Ruse

by Cindy Pon

  Instead I only saw little demonic me cavorting beneath my eyelids. It was a long time before I finally fell asleep.

  Restless, I woke at dawn the next morning, just as the gray-smudged city beneath began to take on more distinct shapes and colors. Daiyu was curled against me, her head resting in the crook of my arm, still in a deep sleep. We had both shed our bathrobes in the night, too hot beneath the heavy duvet. I stroked her arm, and she murmured dream words as I tried to go back to sleep. Instead, my mind was filled with the impending trip to Shanghai with Iris, and my lie to Daiyu. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her, I told myself. So why did I feel so crappy about it?

  Giving up, I slipped out of bed and pulled on a black tee and some gray sweats, then headed down to the hotel gym. It was empty so early on a Sunday, and I spent the next hour and a half trying to jump rope, lift, and do chin-ups to the point of exhaustion. But when I finally returned to our hotel room, drenched in sweat, one glimpse of Daiyu sitting up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, confirmed that you can’t sweat your guilt away. She stretched her arms overhead like a languid cat, and I stood near the door, basically just staring.

  “Jason,” she said in a voice still husky with sleep. “For a moment, I was scared you had already left for your trip with Arun.”

  I pulled off the soaked tee and threw it on my pile of clothes collecting on the floor. “I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

  “Come here,” she demanded. Daiyu was staring at me as unabashedly as I had been at her.

  I felt the corners of my mouth tilt up. “I stink. I was going to hop into the shower.”

  “Mmm,” she replied, and waved me over to the bed.

  I laughed but obliged, sitting on top of the duvet. “Good morning.” I leaned over and kissed her on her bare shoulder. “Really, though, I need a shower.”

  “After I give you a gift.”

  “A gift?” I searched my mind, wondering if I’d forgotten some special occasion.

  She reached over and picked up a long rectangular box from her nightstand. “It isn’t the most romantic gesture.” Daiyu appeared almost shy when she passed the box to me. “But it’s been on my mind for some time—your safety. And now, especially since you’ll be traveling . . .”

  It was a black leather case with my name embossed in silver on one end. Curious, I lifted the top, and it creaked open at the hinge. Two silver throwing daggers rested against a black velvet lining inside. “Daiyu,” I said, and lifted one dagger out of the box. The blade was so pristine it reflected my warped image, and a slender calla lily was engraved on its hilt, like the one tattooed above my heart, in memory of my mom. “You’re wrong. This is very romantic.”

  She let out a low laugh. “Do you like it? Is it weird?”

  I felt the heft of the knife; the hilt fit perfectly in my palm. “I love it. I love weird. Thank you.”

  “There’s one more thing,” she said. “There’s a button at the top of the knife’s hilt. If you press it, it’ll release a poison on the blade.”

  I flipped the knife over to look at the top of the hilt. It was so well made, it was impossible to tell you could depress a hidden button there. “Really?”

  She nodded, her expression serious. “The poison incapacitates almost instantaneously and kills within a few minutes after contact.”

  I gave a low whistle. “But why do you think I need this? My aim is usually true.”

  She reached for my hand. “I know, Jason. It’d just give me peace of mind. You’re a target now that we’re together. My father has left us alone so far, but I feel his attention could turn to me at any time—especially after what happened last night. And once he focuses on you, he’s relentless until he gets the results he wants.”

  I shut the box, and it closed with a sharp snap. “And the best result when it comes to me is if I were dead.”

  She didn’t respond, but her gaze said enough.

  I kissed her softly on the mouth. “Thank you. Don’t worry about me. You know I can take care of myself.”

  Daiyu smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “This makes me feel better.”

  “I’ll always carry them on me.”

  “When do you see Arun?”

  And for a moment, I had no idea what she was talking about. That was the danger of lies. “I’m heading out around noon. I need to get a few things from our apartment first.” Sometime in these past months, I had begun to think of my apartment as ours. I averted my face and ran my hand over the smooth box, before slipping it into my open backpack. I hated lying to her.

  She nodded. “You go shower then, and I’ll order room service.”

  I went into the bathroom, then ducked my head out, wanting to say something more.

  Thanks again.

  I love you.

  Daiyu had already settled back into bed, voice-commanding through the hotel’s extensive menu on our wall screen.

  Instead, I turned on the shower without saying anything more.

  I left the hotel a few hours later, giving Daiyu a quick kiss, not wanting to linger.

  “I’ll see you in a few days?” she asked.

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Message me when you get there?”

  I nodded. “I’ll have your knives on me.”

  She smiled. “I always carry my taser.”

  I opted to walk back to the 101 from the Shangri-La Hotel. At noon, the streets were filled with families and pedestrians enjoying the day off, almost everyone wearing a mask to cover their faces. But not many meandered on the streets, because the heat and humidity were too much this time in August. Everyone headed for air-conditioned spaces: food courts, restaurants, department stores. The 7-Elevens were filled with customers getting iced drinks and parents buying their children ice pops and ice creams. The automatic doors kept sliding open, emitting a sudden whoosh of cool air as I walked past, before closing again.

  The sun hung overhead—a dirty orange—and the skyline was blanketed in a thick brown smog. I stopped to buy some candied yams, which the vendor scooped into a clear plastic bag, pushing a toothpick in one for me to use. I pulled down my face mask and enjoyed the warm treat even as I felt the sweat slide down my neck. The doorman, Xiao Huang, greeted me when I entered the building.

  My apartment felt empty without Daiyu there, and I packed without much thought, throwing some black T-shirts and jeans into a leather bag. Vic had protested when I said I didn’t need any luggage cases, so instead, he got me two beautifully made brown leather duffel bags for my travels. I smiled, remembering our argument. “You can’t claim to be a you boy and be half-assed about it, carrying your clothes in a plastic bag like you’re homeless,” he had huffed, more angry over a topic I hadn’t given a second of thought to in my entire life. The next week, he presented me with the hand-sewn leather bags.

  I carefully slipped my new knives into the duffel. As much as I liked to have a knife on me at all times, security would only hassle me at the airport. Checking through my pockets, I came across something in my jeans. Curious, I pulled it out. A note, folded into a triangle. I opened it and recognized Daiyu’s writing; her written characters were elegant, even when she was just using a pen.

  I will miss you.

  She had written only those four words, then doodled a few hearts and blossoms around them. I grinned, feeling a surge of emotion that I didn’t want to dwell on, and tucked the note back into my pocket. Glancing at the time, I requested that Xiao Huang hail a taxi for me downstairs for the airport, before grabbing my bag and heading out.

  It was a fast drive without much traffic to the Taoyuan airport. I gave the taxi driver a generous tip on my cashcard and spotted Iris’s silver hair near one of the entrances right away. I raised my chin in greeting, and she nodded once as I navigated my way between cars and travelers toward her.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d show,” she said when I was within hearing range.

  “Don’t you know me well enough to know that I a
lways keep my promises?” I asked.

  “I thought I knew you—”

  I brushed past her. “I’m the same, Iris. I haven’t changed. Now let’s go find Lingyi.”

  I checked my duffel, as I had all my knives carefully packed in it. Iris also checked her small luggage, and I didn’t bother to ask what she had in it that she couldn’t walk through security with—you never knew with Iris. She had booked us first-class tickets; I suspected for the convenience and lessened scrutiny from officials and security alike as opposed to the luxuries it offered.

  We waited to board in Empress Air’s “Elite Lounge.” I wasn’t sure if its classist branding was a case of lost in translation or totally deliberate, but it lived up to its name. There were private luxury pods for sleeping, as well as showers and even one oversize whirlpool tub claiming the best and newest in water-jet technology. An extravagant buffet featuring light appetizers to full-course meals was laid out for guests, with two bars on either end of the opulent lounge. Empress Air waitstaff dressed in silver jackets were ready to assist at the wave of a hand.

  Iris and I retreated into the farthest corner of the lounge, to hide on a high-backed sofa that faced the wall-to-ceiling windows, away from everyone else. A woman delivered the two shots of espresso I had ordered soon after we settled onto the velvet cushions. I downed one shot at that critical moment when it had cooled enough not to scald, but was still hot enough so that its rich, earthy aroma was at its finest. That was one thing I’d gotten used to living the life of a you: enjoying as many expensive espresso drinks as I wanted.

  “You didn’t tell her,” Iris stated without preamble.

  I swirled the second shot of espresso, watching the steam rise. “I didn’t. But you had no right to ask me to lie to her.”

  “Even after what happened last night?”

  I met her sharp gaze, trying to pinpoint what she was referring to.

  “The donation from Jin himself at your girlfriend’s fund-raising gala? It was blasted through all-media news.”

  “Oh, that,” I said. “Daiyu didn’t even know her dad was going to make a donation. It’s what Jin does—he can’t pass up an opportunity to make himself look good. They haven’t been in contact since he fled to China.”

  “They have been in contact, Zhou. Since day one.” Iris gave a shake of her head.

  I felt the blood drain from my face. “What? How do you know?”

  “Lingyi hacked into Daiyu’s Palm—”

  I placed the remaining espresso shot onto the table in front of us, but it clattered against the glass, because my hand was shaking from anger. “You had no right—”

  “You wanted us to trust her, Zhou. But your safety—our safety—came first. It was the only way we could know for sure if she could be trusted. . . .”

  I wanted to slam my fist down on the tabletop, but instead crossed my arms, gripping them with tight fingers. “What did you find?”

  “They’ve been messaging each other about once a week.”

  “And Daiyu has been conspiring with him? On whatever he’s trying to start in China?” I swallowed hard; the taste of espresso was too bitter in my mouth now, revolting.

  “Nothing incriminating, exactly,” Iris said. “But we were only looking through her messages. Who knows what sort of communication they might have had through face chat?”

  “Let me see,” I said. Iris passed her Palm, and I scrolled through boring and innocuous exchanges between Daiyu and Jin, whom she had labeled “the Father” on her end. “If it’s nothing incriminating—”

  “She lied to you, Zhou,” Iris cut me off. “About keeping in contact with Jin. Can you fully trust her not to lie to you about anything else?”

  I clasped my head between my hands. “I can.” My words were directed to the floor. “After all that we’ve been through, I trust Daiyu with my life.” But my stomach still felt sick. Iris was right—why had Daiyu lied to me?

  “Well, I don’t trust her with ours,” Iris replied.

  Before I knew how to respond, her Vox chimed. She glanced down immediately.

  “It’s Arun,” Iris said. “He said he tried to contact you, but you didn’t respond.”

  I had turned off my devices as soon as I left Daiyu, not wanting her to be able to track my movements. But how long could I avoid her without explaining myself?

  “Daiyu tried to get ahold of you, but when she couldn’t reach you, she messaged Arun, since you were supposedly meeting today for a trip.” Iris showed me her Vox.

  What the hell is going on? Arun had messaged in orange text.

  “Zhou and I are headed to Shanghai,” Iris dictated into her Vox. “Don’t tell Daiyu. Cover for us.”

  He responded with giant red exclamation points. !!! Why?

  “To find Lingyi,” Iris replied. “We’re staying at Les Suites on the Bund if you need to reach us. We might be offline.”

  Her Vox chimed then to take an incoming call from Arun. Iris dismissed it.

  “That’s cold,” I said.

  She shrugged. “The less he knows, the better. And he’s your cover.”

  I shook my head, feeling the effects of the espresso course through my bloodstream. A pleasant female voice announced the boarding for our flight, and Iris and I rose at the same time.

  Somehow, it didn’t seem like a fortuitous start to the trip.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I had never been on a plane before, and although the flight was short, I still hated it. I hated feeling trapped in a machine in the sky with a bunch of strangers. I hated that we had basically handed our lives over to a faceless pilot droning on about the weather and time and the landmarks below us if we looked to our left. I hated the surge and plummet of my heart and stomach with the plane—an entirely different feeling from flying an airped, because I had no control over anything that was happening. When our plane finally jounced onto the runway, then parked at our gate, I was the first to deplane, grateful to step on solid ground again.

  Iris and I followed the crowd of people who seemed to have done this a million times before toward the immigration area. Some spoke in Chinese dialects I couldn’t understand, and others spoke Mandarin tinged with an accent I wasn’t used to hearing. Luckily, we made it through immigration without incident. We grabbed our bags, and Iris hailed an airlimo for us. “It’s faster,” she said. I never knew Iris to be loose with her spending, even with her cut from the ransom money. I had a feeling she was eager to reach our hotel, so we could set out and find Lingyi as soon as possible. My last airlimo ride had been to Jin Corp with Daiyu months ago, and I tried not to think about it. I kept my devices turned off, knowing there would be messages from her waiting for me. I didn’t know how to deal with the information Iris had shared.

  Lost in thought, I hadn’t even been looking out the window until Iris said under her breath, “There it is—the Bund.” Our airlimo swept past in an arc, giving us an expansive view of Shanghai’s famous skyline, recognizable on both sides of the Huangpu River. The stately and ornate buildings lining the Bund were almost all historical landmarks that had previously served as banks and trading houses from all over the world. They said that someone familiar with the Bund from centuries ago would be able to recognize it today. I believed it; because looking at these architectural landmarks felt like a glimpse into a time warp, the low buildings dwarfed by the modern steel-and-glass giants across the river.

  It was late afternoon, and the sun’s hazy light gleamed off the glass windows on the tall buildings. Throngs of people were walking on the Bund along the river; boats and barges of all sizes drifted slowly on the water.

  “And there’s Jin Tower,” Iris said, pointing at the tallest building, a curving silver shard piercing the polluted skies.

  I studied the structure. It was beautiful if not grandiose—exactly what Jin loved. “Of course it’s the tallest building in the world now.”

  “He’s got to make money somehow, since the suits are not back on the market yet.�
� Iris smirked.

  We had done exactly what we had set out to do in bombing Jin Corp, but we’d paid a high price for it. Was Victor’s life worth what we’d accomplished? Sure, there was a moratorium on Jin suits production, but then they’d be back on the market, newer and better than ever. In the meantime, Jin continued to use his wealth, network, and power to expand his reach in China. Had we done anything to deter him in a significant way? Or was it like ants fighting gods? Had we lost Vic for nothing?

  The airlimo glided into the garage of one of the buildings near the end of the Bund, and we took the elevator down into our hotel lobby. Iris had booked us into Les Suites, a small and modern boutique hotel. We checked into a large two-bedroom suite overlooking the river. She made a clean sweep of our accommodations, noiseless as a panther stalking prey, searching for hidden bugs and cameras. Vic had left us with one of the best detectors on the market—at least half a year ago. I felt his presence again, stronger than ever, now that I was reunited with Iris. And damn, I missed him.

  Iris nodded at me once when she was done. “We’re good,” she said. “Lingyi knows we’re staying here.”

  “So she’s coming to us, instead of us having to find her?”

  Iris nodded. “Ideally. That’s the hope.” She walked to the windows and glanced out toward the city near dusk, a truly magnificent view, even if swathed in smog. The Pearl Tower’s neon lights had already turned on, and a commercial played across the entire length of Jin Tower, before firework images erupted, and then an announcement of the opening ceremony for Jin Tower appeared in gold characters. “That must mean he’ll be in the city, if he isn’t already,” Iris said.

  “Jin’s in town, all right,” a familiar, quiet voice replied from behind us.

  And our suite door, which neither of us had heard open, snicked shut.

  In spite of the familiarity, I had already pulled one of Daiyu’s knives out, palming it for a throw. But Iris ran toward the door, flinging her arms around Lingyi. Lingyi drew a shuddering breath that sounded like a sob. “My heart.” The two girls hugged, and I felt a knot of emotion rise in my own throat. Over these past months, Lingyi had tried reaching out to me, messaging to check in, gently suggesting we might meet to talk. I had agreed once, but then bailed at the last minute. I wasn’t ready to face her—to apologize for leading Victor to his death.