by Saxon Keeley
“He is not here! He is never here. He is never where he is needed.”
“Children are reflections of their mother’s,” he sympathised in a display of humanity unbefitting of his appearance. He takes a knee besides the young man and bows his head in respect for the dead. Despite its age, the blade is not dull and Alexander feels anxious about the sword being so close to him. “I imagine it must be hard for your father to see his lover in your eyes.”
“I was just a child,” Alexander wept. “He left me. For what?”
The shadow sighed, “You may never forgive your father. But our duty as sons is not to replace them, we are to become better. Learn and grow, become your own man and do not repeat his mistakes.”
Then the non-existent wind blows his rain mac again to reveal the shadow’s armband, a white dragon. It is on seeing the dragon that Alexander no longer fears him.
“Is that what you are doing, becoming better?”
“No,” admitted the shadow. “I am keeping a promise. Ending something that should never have begun.”
Not sure if he understands the shadow’s meaning, Alexander thinks it best not to pry into the affairs of soldiers dressed in black carrying swords. With what could only be described as a pitying nod farewell the shadow stands and returns to the dark. Knowing he will never be granted another opportunity to learn the truth, Alexander calls out to him before he completely vanishes.
“Wait, there is something I must ask you. I am not stupid and I know of what happened to the women during the occupation. I guess I know really, but you must have been there or at least you knew my uncle therefore must have been told at some point. But I want to hear it. Please. How did Mother die?”
The shadow stands there, taking a moment to formulate his words. Peering over his shoulder he tells him honestly. “Jung found your mother tied to a chair, she was treated the same as all those other women, if not worse. He ended her suffering, it was what she wanted.”
The flowers around his mother’s grave seem soiled; the very earth beneath him tainted; the heat suffocating; the sickness in his stomach real. A hatred so vast and overwhelming consumes him. It should have been Father, a voice in his head repeats. Ashamed to accept it as his own, this time Alexander is too angry to cry.
“You should return home,” warned the shadow, now nothing more than a voice. “Neo-Shanxi is a dangerous place for your family. There are many who would see you dead.”
*
Alexander had been ready since the sun rose over the city, no matter how hard he tried he could not wake his father from his drunken slumber. It was only when Lin Zongren rang the doorbell did he wake, scurrying around as quickly as possible to make himself in any way half presentable. On the way to the station from his great grandfather’s house, that had been prepared for their stay, his father drank bottle after bottle of water. Although it was only supplies from their ship, the decadence of it disgusted Alexander.
All his young life Alexander wanted to visit Jung Labs with his grandfather, he was disappointed that his first and maybe only time would be with his hungover father. The train over the canyon is empty, being much later in the day than any of them had wanted. He watched out the window at the abyss below, not the rising lake that the founders of this colony had anticipated. Even the mountain tops to the west of the city have lost their snowy tops. It is a reminder of the delicate balance each terraformed environment hangs in.
Lin continues last night’s conversation about the university along the journey, mentioning the close ties it has with Jung Labs. The more the Vice Chairman prattles on the more Alexander is worried that his father won’t be bring him back to Maia. Trying to look for the best in the situation he convinces himself it is because they have little common ground between them and his father is in no state for idle chitchat.
The train comes to a halt and they depart onto the platform. From this distance, the city is a strange metropolis erected on a red plane of emptiness. The Assembly is a pillar that looks as though it holds up the sky, but it has nothing on the TFP the actual pillar that holds the sky. In the city, the air had been stale, warm and in some places unpleasant to breath, not just because of the stench of body odour. Here it is clean, cool and moist.
Inside, Jung Labs are not what Alexander had expected to find. Clinical white halls are impersonal more suited to a prison than somewhere that inspires creativity. As they tour each lab is shut away behind closed doors unlike his father’s facility which is open and invites curiosity. Most of the labs they are shown are improving and developing military grade technology, something that interests his father more than it does him. All the staff showing them around are dull, stuffy and obnoxious. Alexander waits patiently for this part of the day to be over, knowing that getting to work on the TFP will be the highlight.
“This way Alexander,” said his father excitedly.
Oscar rushes off down another indiscriminate white corridor with Alexander following at a pace that is just below a jog and Lin waddling as fast as his legs can manage. He takes them to a small lab that seems insignificant compared to the rest but he is keen to show Alexander. The research team stop working and welcome the three of them.
“This was my old lab.”
“Great,” forced Alexander finding it hard to match his father’s enthusiasm. He pretends to be interested until he realises his father is taking no notice. He fades into the background and watches as they dote upon him.
At the back of the group is young woman who does not join in with her fellow colleagues, she has an odd tattoo on her hand of a golden Sanzuwu. The three-legged crow is a familiar emblem however he cannot place where he has seen it before. Noticing Alexander staring she covers it with her sleeve. He follows her with his eyes as she worms her way in amongst the group.
“Chairman Zhang was always very proud of this place,” Lin distracted him, losing sight of the girl with the tattoo. “He and your father achieved great things in this lab. Imagine what we could achieve together. You would have your own research team, access to all Neo-Shanxi’s resources, full support of the Assembly and there are a great many benefactors who would be willing to put their money behind another Jung. It is not right to have Jung Labs without a Jung. Shanxi is where you belong Alexander.”
Stumbling over his words he struggles to find a gentle way to refuse. “It is a generous offer…”
“No. Do not answer yet. You have not seen the TFP nor the university yet. Keep it in the back of your mind during your stay.”
Alexander sighs, not appreciating the added stress. Then a loud blast reverberates around the lab.
Too much happens all at once for it to make sense. He hears two more blasts over the ringing in his ear. Tackled to the floor by Lin, Alexander is pinned down by the man’s weight. He scans the room for malfunctioning machinery. It is then he realises that they were not blasts but shots.
Screams penetrate the chaos. Through the legs of researchers Alexander watches as his father’s body is lowered down. Three holes in his chest. Blood runs off his black coat.
A gun drops, the girl with the golden Sanzuwu tattoo is wrestled to the floor and restrained. She winces at the discomfort. The pain of being crushed by panicking scientist does not negate the satisfaction of closure she has achieved.
Alistair Jung
Alistair had barely begun the meeting on Shambhala when it was interrupted by the news of Oscar’s assassination. Wasting no time, he postponed the meeting and took the nearest boat back to the ship and headed for Neo-Shanxi.
On his arrival, he was met by Lin and taken to his brother’s body. He lay there cold and naked on the metal table with three bullet holes in his chest. The first shot hit his heart. His lips so blue they were almost black and his cheeks ghostly pale. At first it was hard to accept the lifeless corpse even resembled Oscar. The silver ring had been removed by the coroner and along with their father’s coat was given to Alistair.
He found his nephew asleep on the sofa of the
family room in his grandfather’s house, heavily guarded by Neo-Shanxi soldiers. All the windows were left open overnight and the house had become chilly despite the heat the planet is currently experiencing. Quietly Alistair closed the windows then laid the coat lightly over Alexander so not to disturb him.
“So much sadness in one place,” Alistair whispered. “Our loved ones are continuously being torn from us.”
Lin stands at the other end of the room nodding his head. “I can arrange a boat for Alexander.”
“No need just yet,” replied Alistair. He places the ring into Alexander’s hand, sleeping too deeply to be stirred by it. “Let him sleep for a little while longer. I will come and collect him when it is time.”
Reassured that his nephew is safe, Alistair is escorted to the police station in the Political District where they are detaining the assassin. It is a familiar journey from the Imperial Gardens to the station, one he walked many times to have his youngest brother released. He is surprised to see the old sergeant still in active duty, who is none too pleased at the large presence of soldiers. Alistair is lead through the same corridors and down the stairs to the cells, all of which have been specially cleared.
As if his brother’s ghost lingers within these cells a soft whistle echoes one of his favourite songs. Strapped to a chair the girl sits with a gleeful grin across her face. Alistair turns to Lin and requests that they be left alone, the only one to show any reluctance is the old sergeant. Once alone he drags over the warden’s chair and sits opposite her. She continues whistling the song.
“You are a Separatist assassin,” he asserted. “Which colony reached out to you? How much did they pay you? What could they offer you that we could not?”
The girl remains silent, not a single question gets so much as a flinch. He had been told of the tattoo on her hand and continues pressing.
“The golden Sanzuwu, I do not think you realise the insensitive connotations that symbol holds here on Shanxi.”
She rolls her eyes and begins whistling again.
Frustrated he strikes her with his knuckles leaving a pink mark. Clamping her face between his fingers he closes them tightly, using all his strength to crush her jaw. There is no room for her to wriggle out.
“What is your name?”
Spit blinds him. She laughs as he wipes away the insult. It is enough to make him snap. Grabbing her hair, he holds her head still and brings down his fist. Again and again he lays into her until his knuckles are swore and she goes limp.
When he lets go she hangs in the chair, blood dribbling onto her lap. He takes a seat and waits for her to sit back up. Raising her head, she greets him with a bloody smile, her lip split and nose broken. She is numb, nothing can touch her now.
“Du Yu-Yan,” she spluttered.
“Du?”
“Granddaughter of Du Jianguo, who you executed.”
Suddenly it makes sense. The violence was an act of vengeance. He leans in closer, close enough he can smell her blood. “Du Jianguo was a criminal. He was part of the Gang of Four who orchestrated and collaborated with the occupation. Your grandfather was directly responsible for the deaths of hundreds. Justice was served.”
She laughs at his attempt to ‘re-educate’ her, only to receive another slap. “Executed without a trial and buried in a shallow grave. Is that your idea of justice?”
“More than he deserved, more than you shall receive.”
“I care little what happens to me, I have taken a bit of what you owe. More blood will follow,” she threatened, sitting back to resume the song.
“Stop,” he warned. “Stop whistling that fucking song.”
She whistles even lounder.
Her impudence sends Alistair into a frenzy. He is aware of the first strike and the last, stopping when she has lost consciousness. Lin, the sergeant and a few soldiers come racing down to the cells to see what all the commotion is about. Even the war-hardened soldiers are unnerved by the Chairman’s crazed state, too afraid to intervene.
“Chairman,” said Lin shocked.
He pants like a beast, feeling the rage pump through his veins. He gestures for one of the soldiers to hand over their side arm. Nervously they look to the Vice Chairman for confirmation. With Alistair’s patience wearing thin Lin gives the go-ahead.
Snatching the pistol Alistair swings around and unloads the entire clip into the unconscious girl. After the gun has stopped firing he continues to squeeze the trigger. The empty click repeats over and over.
Lin prizes the gun away from him and hands him a clean handkerchief to wipe the blood from his face. Slowly he ushers him out of the cell. Alone the sergeant stares at the mess that needs to be cleaned up.
Maia
Jessica Jung
Snow covers the roof tops of the city, below, the canal is frozen solid. Snowflakes twist in the wind making them impossible to catch. The clouds are so thick they cast a veil over the colony hiding Thule away from sight. Shimmying closer to the icy edge Jessica peers over at the fall. Hitting the water now would surely kill anyone who jumped, even if the ice did break then the temperature would send you into shock. Lifting her foot, she dangles it over the edge tempting fate.
“Don’t jump,” whispered Jack’s voice in the wind.
Startled she almost loses balance and quickly stamps her foot back firmly on the ground. She sighs in relief. Cautiously she spins around happy to see him. He removes his coat as he approaches her, careful not to make any sudden moves.
“If you jump then I’m going straight in there after you,” he said, pulling off a shoe.
“Jump? I’m not going to jump,” she said puzzled. She turns back around to the view of the city and takes a deep breath. “I’m saying goodbye.”
“Goodbye?”
“Yes, to Maia.”
“Where are you going?” he asked unconvinced.
“Not sure yet. I have seen so little of the Charted Systems, I would like to see it all. See Earth if it is possible,” she said with a sense of optimism.
“Earth would be nice,” he kept the conversation going to get closer to her, putting his shoe back on so his toes don’t freeze. “Kolob too, they say it is a world covered by one single ocean. Or Elysium, a colony where fields of golden wheat grows.”
“Why must we be stuck on Maia when there is so much out there for us to explore?” she asked, realising how close Jack is standing. She laughed, “You’re that worried I might jump?”
He takes her hand. “I would hate to lose you.”
She rests her head on his shoulder trying to think of ways to convince him that these aren’t just childish musings of a brat but something she must do without telling him the truth about her brother. “My uncle was murdered on Neo-Shanxi.”
“Alexander’s father? Is he alright?”
Hearing his reaction, she decides that was not exactly what she wanted to say. “I don’t know. Father is to arrive on Maia with him soon, I want to be gone before they get here. That way he cannot stop me.”
“Why?”
“You said you wouldn’t pry,” she reminded him.
In the distant sky through the heavy snowfall navigation lights blink as boats launch and prepare to land. Jessica’s plan is to smuggle aboard whatever ship and go wherever it takes her. Her plan is not especially well thought out, no runaway’s plan ever is.
“You’re really going to run away?” asked Jack.
“Yes. As far away from Maia and Shanxi as possible,” she said putting her arms around him, scared it might be the last time she does.
He thinks about it for a while, she is certain he will try and convince her otherwise. “There is a war going on you know, it would be dangerous. And you’re the Chairman’s daughter, if anyone were to discover who you are...”
“I know,” Jessica interrupted. “Nothing you could say will dissuade me. My mind has been made.” Facing him she pulls him in close looking deep into his eyes. “What do you want to do?”
“Me? W
hat do you mean?”
“Come with me?” she tenderly asked. Certain this is the end for them she pushes her lips against his. Feeling his warmth; his heartbeat. Savouring this final moment.
Bringing her in again he holds her close, not letting her go.
“I wish to be with you until the end. The mountains will lose their peaks; rivers will run dry; the sun will shine through Thule; and the sky will meld with the earth before I leave you.”
Alistair Jung
Twisting the key in the lock Alistair opens the door for Alexander to enter first. He’d slept the entire voyage from Shanxi yet he is still shattered. Gormlessly his nephew trudges indoors. Alistair has held himself together since the interrogation and hopes now that they are home both will have space to grieve. The need for a stiff drink nags at the back of his mind, but first he needs to make sure Alexander is comfortable.
“Nicholas? Jessica?”
Appearing from the top of the stairs Nicholas makes his way at his own pace, not concerned for the tragedy that has befallen the family. His hand is wrapped in bandages, but Alistair has no time for that now.
“Could you make up the spare room for Alexander?” asked Alistair.
His son gives him a smarmy smile and begrudgingly obliges. “Of course, Father.” Waiting for his cousin to follow dragging his bags behind, Nicholas leads him in the direction of the downstairs guestroom.
“Where is your sister?”
“I do not know. She has not been home for some time, a couple of weeks perhaps. Jessica has been seen with one of the boys from The Academy,” he said in a manner that was reminiscent of his grandfather, only less well practiced.
“Weeks, why have you not called anyone?”
Nicholas turned to his father and lied, “I did.”
He watches in disbelief as his son takes Alexander down the hallway. Worried sick Alistair rushes up to Jessica’s room in case there is any chance she’d left something behind that would indicate where she has gone. In his head, he makes a list of who he needs to contact then where he should begin searching. Although the city is vast most of it would be unfamiliar to her. How many places could she be? The worst kind of thoughts plague his mind. Who is this boy? What if she was taken? What has happened to Jessica? There is a naïve chance that he clings to that he will open her bedroom door to find her sitting at her desk, nothing more than a horrible trick played by his son.