The Rise of Io

by Wesley Chu

  “Not a very observant man, is he? What is he doing here at the rally?”

  Only one way to find out for sure.

  Shura turned to Amita. “Tell your minister I want to see him right after this event. He has a lot of explaining to do.”

  * * *

  Surrett came by her suite at the hotel later that evening. He must have come directly from the rally. He had the look of a man who had stood outside in the hot, humid day, and he smelled that way as well. His usually perfectly-pressed suit was a mess of wrinkles and stains. A day mingling with people living in slums would do that to a person. Shura watched in disapproval as he tracked faint prints of mud onto her carpet.

  “Adonis, you summoned.” He bowed and moved to sit in the chair opposite her.

  “Stay standing.” Shura looked down at Surrett Kapoor’s bio on her tablet. “I’ve looked into you. You’ve been busy. You’ve risen from a low-ranked operative with little standing to a favored in this region. Rurik didn’t even know you existed a year ago, and now the Genjix are pushing you as the next candidate for prime minister.”

  “Praise to the Holy Ones,” he bowed.

  “Your rise is primarily due to you uncovering several Prophus operations in this region: the listening post in Nepal, the research facility near Kyoto, the Abelard Program, and the location of over a dozen safe houses in the north Thailand DMZ. Impressive. You state in your report you unearthed these Prophus operations by” – she traced the exact wording with her fingers on the tablet – “leading your handpicked expert team of investigators and counterintelligence agents.”

  “I am but a humble servant,” Surrett bowed, a little higher this time. “Adonis, the information–”

  Shura leaned forward. “Tell me, is your team still around? I’d love to meet them.”

  He stiffened. “Unfortunately, they’ve disbanded. They’re needed elsewhere. It’s unrealistic for me to consolidate so much talent in one place when they could do so much good–”

  Shura held up a hand. “Speak truthfully, Minister. I know you’re handling a Prophus double agent. Is he your ‘handpicked expert team of investigators and counterintelligence agents’? Is this how you’ve uncovered all those operations? Are you being fed intel by a Prophus traitor?”

  Surrett adjusted his tie, and coughed. “The Prophus’s code name is Riseevar. I made contact with the double agent nine months ago.”

  “Really? Interesting. And you chose not to divulge this information in your reports?”

  He shrugged. “Does it matter how I’ve come across my intel? My results speak for themselves. My team located the Prophus operative. I turned Riseevar, and the Genjix have completely leveled Prophus operations in this region.”

  He has a point there.

  “This seems like a pretty important piece of information to exclude when I first demanded an account of all your resources.”

  “They are unrelated,” Surrett said. “You are only here to oversee the completion of the Bio Comm Array construction. My other programs are my own.”

  We cannot fault him for that.

  “According to the report you sent the Council, you uncovered operations scattered all over southeast Asia, but none in India.” Shura held up her tablet, which displayed a photo she had taken earlier. “Why was Riseevar standing in the crowd at your speech today?”

  “That’s the arrangement,” Surrett replied. “The Prophus recently acquired knowledge of the Bio Comm Array project. Riseevar is running interference and counterintelligence until India has officially turned Genjix.”

  “And what does Riseevar get for his dedication?”

  “The traitor wishes to join the Genjix and be on the winning side. Riseevar specifically requested to be involved in the Bio Comm Array in a high-ranking capacity.”

  The pieces began to fit. She pulled up another of his reports. “The Prophus agent Emily Curran’s death. That was part of the deal.”

  “That part was botched,” Surrett admitted, “which is why Riseevar is still out there running interference. Curran was investigating another matter here in India and stumbled upon the Bio Comm Array project. She was the one who tipped the Prophus off. I decided that the best way forward was to have Riseevar participate and sabotage their investigation on the Bio Comm Array facility.”

  “The scout and the recon team was the traitor’s doing.” Shura couldn’t find much fault in that. It was a sound plan and was paying dividends in spades for the Genjix. “Why am I only learning about this now after I nearly blew the asset’s cover?”

  He looked her straight in the face. “Would you if you were in my place? Would you offer up a personal valuable asset and sacrifice standing to another?”

  He has a point there as well. However, we need this Riseevar.

  “I suppose not,” she said. “I won’t fault you for keeping this source to yourself.”

  “Thank you, Adonis.”

  “But now that I am aware of it, hand over all of the information. I will oversee how to best proceed from this point on.”

  Surrett didn’t reply. He set his jaw and his eyes darted around the room. She could see his thoughts run as he frantically tried to figure out a way not to lose such a powerful playing piece to her. He took a step backward.

  It was time to pull rank. Shura stood up and stared the non-blessed Genjix operative down. “I am an Adonis vessel, Deputy Minister. Hand it over right now or I will gut you from throat to navel before you step out of this room. And before you die, you will reveal your source because it will be the only way I will stop your suffering.”

  Well, that escalated quickly.

  Surrett’s eyes widened and, for a second, he looked like he was going to run anyway. Then he bowed and took out his tablet, and punched a few keys.

  Shura checked the file and then nodded. “You may leave.”

  “Adonis,” Surrett begged. “You promised to sponsor a Holy One if I prove myself. Perhaps we can reach an agreement–”

  “Get out.”

  That was inelegant, Shura. The minister has a right to be compensated for a valuable resource. You should have offered him assurances.

  “The only thing the man desires is to become a vessel. In my estimation, he is not worthy and I refuse to lend my reputation to sponsor a Holy One for him.”

  This will come back to haunt you.

  Shura had already forgotten about the deputy minister. She skimmed the dozen Prophus operations, safe houses, and spies that Surrett had uncovered. He had been very public and detailed on all of the victories in his reports.

  The man really does seem to like writing them.

  More interesting to her was how he had gone about becoming the handler of this Riseevar. According to his own private admission, he had not discovered a Prophus double agent as he had claimed. Rather, this Riseevar had come to him because of a past indirect personal connection involving some event in Greece shortly before the start of the Alien World War.

  Shura dug even deeper. Her eyes widened when she came across a ten year-old report. She smiled, a warm memory sweeping over her. She brushed her fingers over the name on the tablet. “Hello, love.”

  That is a name I have not seen in a while.

  “I see it appear now and then in scattered reports. He’s building quite a name for himself. I wonder how he is doing.”

  It is too bad we cannot use the double agent to get his attention.

  She read the old report several more times, noting the relationship between Emily Curran and Surrett Kapoor. Her thoughts lingered on how the report ended and the list of casualties that followed. “That was why the Prophus agent Emily Curran was here in India,” she muttered. “The woman was looking for closure. She was hunting for the person responsible for Greece. That was how Surrett got in touch with the double agent. She was lured.”

  Perhaps there is a way we can use this to our advantage. Listen carefully.

  Tabs’s plan was bold. It required certain assumptions and more than
a bit of luck, but this was the leverage she was looking for. She pulled up her comm and made the call. It took a few jumps through operators to underlings to subordinates to direct reports – her standing was too low to call someone on the Council directly – but she eventually reached who she was looking for.

  The face of a handsome young Korean man appeared in the air above the tablet. “How goes it, daughter? The regular updates from the minister in charge of the project went from annoyingly excessive before you got there to absolutely nothing. What is going on?”

  “High Father Weston, I have a proposition for you.”

  Weston chuckled. “You forget your place, Shura, but I’m amused and a little intrigued. You have five minutes.”

  “I want you to officially title the Bio Comm Array facility under my control. In fact, I want you to give me India, the entire region.”

  “Why would I do that? There are half a dozen high-standing vessels with interests in that country, including my own. Until a Holy One has the strength to conquer and claim it, it stays unclaimed. It is the Genjix way. To just offer you a territory with as much potential as India makes little sense.”

  “Because I can get someone you want,” Shura smiled. “Someone you, or your Holy One Zoras specifically, want badly. Give me India, and I will deliver him to you.”

  Twenty-Five

  The Bait

  Moving from animals to humans was a very rough transition. With animals, I could simply nudge their instincts to get them to do what I wished. Humans possess immensely more independent thought than animals, yet at the same time, were so much more irrational. Your species is just really hard to deal with. They are so random, so erratic, so emotional. And do not even get me started on pubescent humans.

  It took me a hundred years to get acclimated to your species. At first, I had a fair amount of trouble even keeping them alive. I went through my first four human vessels in a span of six weeks. The first lasted less than five minutes.

  * * *

  Ella had finally turned the corner in her training. She was already making quick progress with the knives, and now Manish had begun adding elements of Escrima knife fighting.

  “After all,” he had said, “what if you run out of knives?”

  “Wouldn’t they already be dead, or at least bleeding like pigs?” she had answered. He grunted, then proceeded to dodge six knife throws and box her head silly. Ella got the point. The old man was a slippery target. They spent most of their days now doing exercises that involved short vicious strikes with blades.

  Pull from sheath, slice arm, slice thigh, stab chest. Pull from sheath, dodge, slice the side of the knee. Roll from harm, pull from sheath, stab downward into the top of feet. The emphasis was always on getting to safety, cutting the part of the body closest to her, be it a hand or leg or butt, and then escaping. Rarely did Manish want her to make a killing blow. The repetitions went on and on until Ella felt as if she could do them in her sleep, but they kept going.

  “This is starting to bore me,” she bellowed in exasperation after several weeks of twelve-hour days. “You’re starting to bore me.” As much fun as this was at first, Ella’s attention could only be held for so long.

  “Bored of knives already, eh?” A devious grin appeared on the coach’s face. “Really, that’s too bad.” He disappeared into the back office and came back a few minutes later carrying a black tube of cloth. He placed it on the table and slowly unrolled it. Ella’s breath caught with each unrolled segment as it revealed an assortment of shiny blades of all shapes and sizes. The last to come out of the black bag of goodies were two wicked-looking serrated black knives, each as long as her forearm. They were awfully pretty. She reached for one. Manish slapped her hand away. “Still bored?” He broke into a smile and handed her one of the long knives.

  Ella handled the knife reverently and practiced some slashing motions. It felt wonderful in her hand. “It’s lighter than it looks.”

  “High-grade carbon steel. Here.” He handed her one of the smaller knives. “Balanced throwing knives. They’re a little heavier than what you’re used to, but they’ll fly true.”

  Ella oohed as she took one and flung it across the room. It lodged in a wooden beam with a solid thunk. She took another knife and spun, throwing it in the other direction, puncturing the back of a plastic chair. “These are so nice.”

  Manish handed her another knife to play with. “Been sitting in my closet ever since I retired. Thinking maybe you’ll put them to better use.”

  Ella’s eyes widened. “Coach, I can’t.”

  He waved her off. “It’s all right, girl. They’re all yours. I’ll charge the Prophus a premium for them anyway. Just take care of my babies and promise to use them on the Genjix. That’s all I ask.”

  Ella plucked two more knives out of their pockets and held them in each hand. She pretended to pull them out of an imaginary sheath strapped to her thigh. “I’m going to need to get Ando to make new sheaths for these knives.” She broke into a wide smile. “I feel like a real badass, a real knife expert.” She practiced more slashing motions.

  “You think you’re an expert with a knife?” Manish laughed. “At best, you are a good beginner. I’ve taught you enough that you won’t cut your skinny toe off. Five more years and I maybe will admit you are my student.”

  “Five more years?” Her voice climbed an octave. “I’ve already been doing this forever.”

  “You’ve only been training for four months.”

  “But all day every day!”

  “Maybe if you weren’t so adamant about guns, you could switch it up a bit,” a voice said from the door. Ella only knew one person with a British accent. Her face scrunched and she squeezed the knife in her hand tightly.

  Remember. Give nothing away.

  She turned to face Hamilton. “What are you doing here?”

  What did I just say? Be nice.

  “I can’t help it.”

  Ella hadn’t seen her auxiliary since they recorded the minister’s speech. They had spent most of the day there, blending into the crowd as they snapped photos and recorded videos of the minister, and tailed him as he walked through the event.

  After he left, they spent the rest of their time taking photos of anyone who looked important. Besides the minister, Io had Hamilton and Ella snap photos of all of the minister’s assistants, personal bodyguards, and this out-of-place but pretty blonde woman.

  She thought it was all a waste of time. After all, the minister was always on television and had his face on posters all over the city. Couldn’t they see what he looked like on the Internet? Hamilton had explained it had something to do with facial recognition software or blah blah something something with their special secret equipment. He also explained the advanced electronics they used recorded much more than video and sound. Ella wasn’t sure what that meant and assumed it was just some spy stuff.

  What made Ella suspicious most of all was, after they were done, he had balked at handing the raw data to her, as Io requested. The man actually tried to disobey Io’s orders and keep it all to himself. They got into a shouting match inside her home and it got so bad Ella had to bar her door and threaten him with her shank. Her auxiliary finally relented, but any trust she had for the man was shattered, and things had only deteriorated from there. After all, as Io had confirmed, the one common thread between all the recent bad things that had happened lately was the Brit. He was jealous of Ella having a Quasing and had the most to gain from betraying them.

  “Hello to you too, Ella.” Hamilton looked over at Manish. “Greetings, coach.”

  “Did you get me my raise?” Manish waved back. “I’m putting far too many hours into this ungrateful runt.”

  “You said you thought of me like a daughter,” she shot back.

  “I said that because I needed someone to help with the chores.”

  “Is she still refusing to learn how to use a gun?” Hamilton asked Manish.

  The coach shook his hea
d. “I’ve given up trying. You want her to shoot, you teach her.”

  “How utterly stubborn and foolish,” Hamilton said.

  Ella threw her knife and sunk it into the soft mud in between Hamilton’s feet. “Don’t talk to me like I’m not standing right here.”

  Hamilton approached Ella and leaned in. “Message from Command. Wyatt wants to know if we had any more raw data from our surveillance. He said it wasn’t as useful as Command had hoped.”

  Tell him we sent everything.

  “Are you sure?” Hamilton pressed when she replied.

  “Of course I’m sure.” Ella didn’t actually know. She remembered plugging the thing into the laptop, punching a bunch of keys, and dragging and dropping files from one folder into another. She remembered watching some bar move until it hit one hundred, and then that was it.

  Ella had taken to using the computer, and within a few short weeks under Io’s tutelage, had picked up reading English rather quickly, but she still had a way to go. Her Quasing had said she was already reading at fourth-grade level, which honestly didn’t sound so great. Still, it was better than nothing.

  One step at a time. I am proud of you.

  “Would you mind if I stopped by tonight to take a look at them?” he asked. “I thought we went over everything rather thoroughly. Just as a precaution.”

  Do not let him. He may be trying to delete something important.

  Ella shook her head. “Sorry. I’m busy.”

  “Oh? With what, may I ask?”

  “None of your business.”

  “I’m your auxiliary. If it’s Prophus business…”

  “It’s not,” Ella replied hastily. “It’s personal.” She looked across the room and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I am hanging out with Aarav.” She began kicking herself immediately.

  “Oh?” Hamilton looked over at Manish’s nephew and smirked.

  That only pissed Ella off more. “Hey Aarav,” she yelled, so loud her voice carried across the room. “Where are we going tonight?”