Change Agent

by Daniel Suarez

  “Some of our gear will be useful. You can come and examine it, but let me just pull the bags out first.”

  The drone said nothing, but instead edged away from the jet. Durand took the initiative and opened the Lilium’s cargo bay, pulling out the two duffel bags. “Disregarding their instructions is a bad way to start.”

  Frey manipulated an AR interface just outside the jet’s doorway. “You’ve been whining about those bags since we left this morning, but you’ll end up thanking me.”

  The Lilium’s synthetic voice said, “Jet Black here. You have opted to cancel your return journey. I want to be sure you understand that this will end your rental, stranding you here. No refund will be granted for your . . . full-day . . . rental. Additional services and emergency pickup will be charged at triple prime-time rates. Do you still wish to cancel your return trip?”

  “Yes.” Frey stabbed at an invisible interface with his index finger.

  “Let me reconfirm: Do you wish to cancel your return trip, stranding you here and incurring maximum return-flight charges?”

  “Yes, goddamnit!” He turned to Durand. “The very last thing I thought I’d be doing in the Burmese jungle is arguing with an AI about surcharges.”

  “Okay, I’ve processed your request. You have now canceled your return trip for a total nonrefundable charge of . . . five million, two hundred and forty-three thousand baht. Please stand clear of the aircraft, and thank you for flying Jet Black.”

  “Yes, and if I ever need to get royally screwed, I’ll be sure to call on you.”

  Durand and Frey stepped back as the duct fans wound up, splaying the grass in every direction and kicking up debris. Moments later, the aircraft lifted into the sky and peeled away to the southeast, quickly climbing toward the ridge.

  “I’m surprised it can lift off with so much of our money.”

  Once it disappeared over the summit, the jungle returned to relative quiet—except for the ever-present thrum of insects and animals.

  The small drone returned. The synthesized voice said, “Follow me.”

  Durand grabbed the heavier duffel bag and passed the half-full one to Frey. They followed the drone as it slowly drifted beneath the canopy of jungle, moving along a barely discernible path through the tangled undergrowth.

  Almost immediately mosquitoes began eating them alive.

  Frey slapped his neck. “Goddamnit! I can’t believe I didn’t bring bug spray.”

  Up ahead, the drone had turned around and was waiting in a widened section of the path. Artocarpus trees leaned in from either side, concealing the path from the sky.

  As they reached the drone, they both dropped their duffels.

  Moments later Durand noticed a squad of a dozen well-camouflaged men slowly move in on them from two directions, emerging from the bush with long guns aimed and ready.

  Durand elbowed Frey and raised his hands.

  Frey did likewise. “Hello . . .”

  The Shan soldiers wore camo bandanas over their faces, though it was possible to see from their eyes that they were brown-skinned—clearly Southeast Asian. They all wore traditional cinched baggy gray-and-pale-blue pants and tunics of homespun cloth, as well as the traditional conical woven bamboo hats known as kups. But along with these they each wore modern camouflaged web harnesses loaded with spare clips, grenades, radios, and other equipment.

  Their weapons Durand recognized as aging M4s (or at least M4 knockoffs) with holosights and tactical infrared flashlights—so they probably had night-vision gear somewhere. All of them wore low-slung military packs.

  Durand could see no light machine guns with them, so they were probably a fast-moving recon team. Either that or they had overwatch on the ridges above—which on second thought seemed likely.

  Only four of the Shan soldiers came directly up to Durand and Frey; the two on either side kept their weapons aimed, while a man in his twenties lowered his bandana and grabbed the drone from midair, stowing it in his pack as soon as its motors cut off. He smiled and spoke English with a slight accent: “Which one of you is Dr. Bryan Frey?”

  Frey nodded. “I am.”

  The man smiled warmly. “So good to finally meet you in person, Doctor.” He bowed slightly, putting his hands before his chest in a pyramid, offering a wai greeting.

  Frey lowered his arms in relief and wai’d back. “Shan938, I presume?”

  “Only partly.”

  Durand studied the other soldier standing in front—and noticed the eyes above the bandana were clearly female. Her dark eyes met Durand’s gaze—and stared back at him with undaunted intensity.

  He lowered his gaze and his hands, putting them together before his chest as he bowed lightly to her.

  She tugged down her bandana, revealing an attractive woman in her late twenties or early thirties. She did not smile. Instead she gave a cursory bow and barked at the man who’d greeted Frey—who was still smiling.

  “My elder sister, Aye Su Win. She commands. I am Thet Ko Lin. Interpreter. The two of us are Shan938. You have been speaking to her through me. I translate her words. She speaks no English.”

  Frey looked happily surprised. He bowed to her. “Then all these years I’ve been conversing with you, Nan Win.”

  “Bo Win,” Thet corrected. “‘Bo’ means ‘commander.’”

  “Bo Win. My apologies.”

  She eyed him and spoke rapidly to her brother in the Shan dialect.

  “My sister says you did not mention you were a dwarf.”

  Frey smiled diplomatically. “Tell her I did not think it relevant.”

  Thet conveyed this to her, and she looked irritated. A moment later she barked back a string of words.

  Thet listened and translated as she spoke. “We have a cousin with your condition, and walking long distances can be an issue for him. It was relevant information.”

  “Well, surely we’re not walking all the way to Naypyidaw.”

  Thet paused before conveying this to his sister. As he did so, all the men erupted in laughter. She did not laugh.

  Durand muttered, “Charming the locals as usual.”

  Frey whispered back, “I would think five hundred thousand US dollars would at least put us on the back of a truck.”

  She spoke to her brother but looked squarely at Frey—pointing at him menacingly.

  Thet smiled and laughed nervously. “So sorry, Dr. Frey, but my sister says if you withhold any more relevant information from her, she will leave you and your friend behind.” Thet laughed nervously and bowed again. “So sorry, but my sister does not . . . how do you say . . . fuck around. Do you see?”

  Frey nodded grimly. “Yes, Thet. I see.”

  Win stepped forward and between Durand and Frey, moving them aside to look at the duffel bags on the ground. She muttered something in irritation as she tried to lift one.

  Thet translated. “She says you have brought seventy kilos of what, exactly?”

  She unzipped the first duffel to find wads of bank-wrapped Thai baht notes.

  Frey looked to Durand. “I was going to tell you about those.”

  “Were you . . .”

  She found two automatic pistols—both Sig Sauers, with oak handles. She slid the action back to find that they were loaded and cast a dark eye at Frey.

  “Tell your sister that those are intended for much later—after we’ve parted company and are inside the capital. And even then, only for personal protection.”

  She confiscated the guns, unloading them with practiced ease and tossing them to one of her men, who caught them and quickly stashed them in his pack.

  “Of course, you’ll hold on to them for us.”

  She also tossed the wads of baht notes to another soldier, who caught them and secured them.

  Frey kept nodding. “For safekeeping. Good idea.”

&
nbsp; Durand spoke under his breath. “Please tell me you don’t have narcotics in those bags.”

  “Would you stop with the narcotics? You sound like my mother. I’m not on narcotics. They’re nootropics.”

  Thet motioned for silence. “Is there anything else in these bags my sister should know about?”

  Frey sighed, clearly feeling set upon. “Tell her there’s a portable multiplex DNA sequencer with reagents and supplies. A pharmaceutical printer with an array of precursors. A lovely hypersonic music system, and various recreational materials intended as gifts for all of you.”

  Thet listened intently and conveyed this to his sister, who was already going through the final duffel bag—finding the DNA sequencer. She nodded at it appreciatively and spoke to her brother.

  “We will purchase this from you. The price can be taken off your travel cost.”

  Frey stepped forward. “I only need to use it twice, ideally. After that, you may have it. Consider it a gift to the Shan people.”

  Thet smiled as he conveyed this.

  Win studied Frey, and then called out to another soldier sharply.

  The man rushed forward, opening his pack to withdraw electronic equipment.

  Thet knelt next to Frey. “Do not be alarmed, Dr. Frey. This will only take a few minutes. It is quite painless.”

  “What is quite painless?” Frey tried to move away but soldiers grabbed him by the arms.

  Durand raised his hands but stepped forward.

  Two guns were immediately aimed at him from a meter away.

  Bo Win shouted, and everyone froze.

  Durand looked to Thet. “I won’t allow you to harm my friend, Thet. Please tell me that’s not what’s about to happen.”

  “No.” He turned to face Durand. “We have not been introduced. So sorry.”

  Durand bowed slightly to Thet, peaking his hands. “I am Kenneth Durand.”

  Thet bowed as well. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Durand.”

  Behind him a soldier placed what looked like an encephalograph cap onto Frey’s head. It rather comically resembled a tanker’s helmet.

  Durand nodded. “Near-infrared.”

  Thet smiled. “Yes. You’ve seen this?”

  Durand turned to Frey. “Relax, Bryan. They’re just going to interrogate you.”

  “Why would I relax if they’re going to interrogate me?”

  “It’s a portable unit—like we used in the Horn of Africa back in the ’20s. With suspected insurgents. It uses near-infrared light to penetrate a few inches into the brain and examine blood flow. It’s like an fMRI unit, but lower-powered and portable. The software on the handheld unit has algorithms that detect brain activity associated with dissembling.”

  “You mean lying.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why the hell didn’t you just say ‘lying’? You world policemen are always using five-dollar words. No wonder there’s a deficit.”

  “I said, relax. It’s not going to hurt you. Just don’t lie to them. You have nothing to hide, right?”

  Frey was getting his breathing under control as they sat him down.

  Thet listened as his sister spoke quickly, then turned to Frey. “My sister wants to know if you are a spy for the Tatmadaw or the central Burmese government, Dr. Frey.”

  Frey sighed again. “No. I am not a spy for the Burmese army or government, or any government. I’m not keen on central government, frankly.”

  Win looked at the display on a unit being held by the system operator. Satisfied, she asked another question.

  “Do you intend to harm the SSA or the Shan people?”

  “No, I do not.”

  Win watched the display, then spoke again.

  Thet turned to Frey. “Is your companion a spy for any government?”

  Frey turned to Durand and shrugged. “I don’t know, ask him. If you think I’m suspicious, wait until you hear his story.”

  “Thanks, asshole.”

  Thet relayed this information to Win as she watched the display. She turned to Durand.

  The soldiers took the sensor cap off Frey’s head and pushed him toward Durand.

  As Frey walked clear, brushing himself off, he glared at Durand. “All yours. I’m kind of curious, myself, to see if you’re full of shit.”

  Durand ignored him and walked up, bowing to make it easier for the smaller Shan men to place the cap on his head. The soldiers were clearly keyed up around him; he looked decidedly dangerous in close quarters. Several M4s were aimed at him.

  Once the equipment operator was ready, Win spoke quickly to her brother.

  Thet turned. “Mr. Durand, are you a spy for any government?”

  Durand spoke calmly. “I am a spy, but not for a government. I work for Interpol as the lead geospatial data analyst of their Genetic Crime Division. I search for illegal genetic editing labs.”

  Thet blanched and turned to his sister—who looked unperturbed by the readings on the machine. Thet spoke to her.

  The soldiers murmured among themselves. Bo Win looked darkly at Durand and barked a stream of words at her brother.

  “My sister wants to know why you are here. Are you here to disrupt the Shan cause or the Shan people?”

  Durand looked directly into her eyes, not Thet’s. “I’m not here in an official capacity. I came here on my own—because of what a cartel named the Huli jing did to me. I came here to destroy the Huli jing. As a personal matter.”

  As Thet related this, the other soldiers again murmured. Win studied the machine’s screen.

  Win answered and Thet translated. “This Huli jing is well known to us. They have done unspeakable evil to our people. And yet you and your dwarf friend plan to—all by yourselves—destroy them?” She sighed in irritation. “There are enough crazy foreigners in my country already. I will not import more.”

  Thet smiled and bowed slightly. “So sorry, Mr. Durand. So sorry. I merely translate.”

  “I understand, Thet. I don’t blame your sister for being skeptical.”

  Thet relayed this to his sister.

  Durand kept his gaze locked on her. “It sounds crazy, I know. But of all the people on this earth, I am uniquely equipped to infiltrate the Huli jing, to gather evidence of their crimes and bring the condemnation of the whole world down on them.”

  Thet relayed Durand’s words.

  Win studied Durand and spoke.

  Thet said, “The outside world has abandoned us for decades. What makes you think you will make them care about what’s happening to our people?”

  “Because the Huli jing created something that will disrupt the foundation of all civilization. I just need to get into their genetic labs and obtain evidence of it.”

  Thet translated.

  Win answered. “Huli jing labs are secured by hundreds of soldiers. You would not get within kilometers of them.”

  Durand focused on her eyes. “I disagree. I think I will get into their labs. Because genetically I’m identical to the leader of the Huli jing—Marcus Wyckes.”

  Frey winced. “Oh, dear . . .”

  Thet was momentarily speechless, but then translated at the urging of Durand. Meanwhile, Durand pulled off his shirt.

  As Win’s translated words reached their ears, Durand concentrated—willing his tattoos to surface on his skin. And seemingly without effort, the chromatophores began to appear, spreading across his chest and shoulders and neck. He looked up to face the group—now the warlord of the Huli jing. The Fox with Nine Tails.

  Cries of alarm went through the men. The entire squad of Shan raised their weapons, and hurled threatening commands at Durand in the Shan dialect.

  Bo Win silenced them all again with a terse command of her own. She looked at the intricate and extensive tattoos that seemed to have magically appear
ed across Durand’s muscular frame. Then she spoke.

  Still in shock, Thet translated as she did so. “She would think you a demon if she believed in such things. My sister asks, what are you?”

  “I am a victim of the Huli jing’s genetic experiments.”

  The men and Bo Win listened to Thet’s translation.

  “If you have an Internet connection at all—via satellite or otherwise—you’ll discover there is a massive manhunt for the leader of the Huli jing. You will find this face on those news reports.” Durand pointed at himself. “I’m wanted in a hundred and ninety countries as Marcus Wyckes. But I am not Marcus Wyckes.” Durand stared intently into her dark eyes. “The Huli jing have discovered a way to edit a fully grown human being. They edited my DNA to transform me into Marcus Wyckes—hoping I would die in the process. And they gave me these marks . . .” He extended his arms. “Genetic tattoos that they use to recognize each other. But I didn’t die, and now I’m coming for them.”

  Durand had to nudge Thet to take the shocked look off his face and have him convey the message to his sister. Again murmurs of confusion went through the soldiers, which Win silenced with another command.

  She barked orders at a soldier who had antennas running from his backpack. The man was already working a large-screened, flexible phablet. Moments later he passed it to her with a grave look on his face.

  Win held up the phablet screen to see an image of Wyckes in the news compared to the man in front of her.

  Whispered comments were already moving through the squad.

  Win growled for silence and got it. She glanced again at the interrogation-system screen. The operator shrugged at her. His expression said, He’s telling the truth.

  She approached Durand with the phablet still in her hand, holding the screen right up next to his face. Her face only a foot away from his. Her men held their weapons ready.

  The resemblance was undeniable. She flipped from major newsfeed to major newsfeed—BBC to Xinhua to Reuters. Finally she lowered the phablet and spoke to Durand while Thet translated. “If this is true—that the Huli jing have acquired the ability to edit the living—why would they edit your DNA to match their leader?”

  “I was doing work for Interpol that was responsible for shutting down hundreds of Huli jing labs. That’s why the Huli jing transformed me. Now my own people are hunting me, and if I die, the manhunt for Wyckes will end.”