Sword

by JC Andrijeski

  The Emperor and his family, on the other hand, were escorted out.

  Behind them, the gates remained locked.

  I knew some of the Seven believed the Lao Hu had abused their position with the Chinese, likely pushing the humans into compliance. Others thought the Lao Hu would be the seers to survive the Displacement, thus evolving to the next stage of development as the First Race had done all those generations earlier.

  I didn’t really have an opinion, frankly.

  Looking around the pristine landscape of the palace, I had trouble seeing the locked gates as a bad thing, however.

  Mao’s bet paid off, too.

  No other country had such a large number of seers, nor so many willing to fight out of sheer loyalty. Lao Hu infiltrator training was unique––and conducted wholly in secret––so also much more resistant to anti-seer security measures employed in the West.

  The Lao Hu provided the Chinese government some of their strongest military leverage in the world. As a result, the Maoists enfolded the seer presence into their philosophy of collectivity and brotherhood and left the Forbidden City alone, as a “respectful residence” run by their beloved seer cousins, the Lao Hu.

  I hadn’t yet figured out how the Third Myth fit into that shared philosophy, but everyone in the City seemed to know who I was.

  On the fifth day there, I decided to look for a garden Jon told me about.

  It took me a few turns and blind alleys to find it.

  Even then, I almost walked right past the walled corridor Jon had described. Looking up, I studied the high arch leading to the garden’s only entrance, and decided I must be in the right place, especially after I noticed the tree canopy beyond the ornate wall.

  As I passed through the circular entrance, I heard water flowing somewhere up ahead, and a large-sounding bird with a long, high call.

  Walking the gravel and stone path, I passed a few structures, most of them sitting in the middle of man-made ponds. I saw the stone maze Jon told me about, where they floated drinks in some game the Emperor’s family used to play back when they had garden parties here. Smoothing my hands over the carved stone, I looked around the small covered area, then headed further back, deeper into the wooded area of the park.

  The sound of water got louder.

  Rounding a corner by one of those oddly tall rock sculptures, I came up short when I saw Balidor and Voi Pai sitting on a stone bench under a dark purple plum tree.

  They sat with legs touching, their heads close together.

  Around them flowed another of those reconstructed landscapes with a high waterfall. The sound of the water was loud here, almost deafening. Trees surrounded the area where they sat, along with a small lawn, strategically-placed lanterns, sculptures and painted vases.

  I studied Balidor’s face as he frowned, lips pursed, at something Voi Pai said.

  I saw him nod then, meeting her gaze.

  When she smiled, he smiled faintly in return, but the serious look never left his eyes, nor did the even fainter layer of scrutiny he trained at her.

  But she was talking again, and he, listening.

  He touched her arm a second later, leaning closer to murmur something in her ear. I found myself flinching a little, in spite of myself.

  Unsure if I should approach, I finally decided against it and backed up, thinking I would just go back the way I’d come, visit the rest of the garden a different day, now that I’d located it in my mental map. At that precise moment, Balidor turned.

  His gray eyes locked on mine.

  Studying my expression briefly, he made a hand gesture that I took to be reassuring. At the end of it, he pointed at his throat, indicating he’d speak to me later. I nodded, then realized Voi Pai stared at me, too, those cat-like eyes holding a faint hostility. Still watching my face, she laid a hand on Balidor’s thigh, massaging it deliberately up to his groin.

  Even collared, I felt him react, just before he glanced at her.

  Smiling a little tensely at both of them, I nodded to Balidor, then stumbled backwards, leaving a little quicker than I probably should have done.

  I would visit this particular garden some other time, I told myself, loudly enough that they would hear it, too, well past the collar and whatever else might be going on in my light.

  It wasn’t until I’d left through the gated opening that I let myself wonder what the hell Balidor was doing.

  26

  NEGOTIATION

  REVIK APPROACHED TIAN’ANMEN Gate, the Gate of Heavenly Peace, walking slow.

  Strolling across the avenue from the tree-studded stripe of land separating the City’s main gates from the rest of Beijing, he glanced up at the twin guard towers without turning his head. The road made a slow curve by the entrance, where a large portrait of Mao hung from the middle of the wall, a blatantly proprietary statement about the contents of the City beyond.

  The road itself was gated, too, the newer walls curving out in a protective crescent moon, flanked on either side by the older stone columns known as huablao. As if to emphasize the point, armored military vehicles flanked the wings of those walls and the metal gates, which barricaded the roads on either side.

  Revik glanced at the line of human soldiers in the same pass of his eyes, then returned his focus to the gate.

  White metal fencing blocked passage by the curious. The size and height of the walls sent a strong message of their own, rising to absurd heights on either side of the much older gate hinging them in front.

  Revik could feel seers up there, as well as humans.

  He knew they had high-powered rifles, possibly a few modified M2’s and Gat-guns along with organic explosives in the event of any threats to the outer gate itself.

  The real protection, however, remained the dense construct he already felt himself touching with exploring tendrils of his light. Within seconds, his aleimic body could be surrounded by a few dozen Lao Hu infiltrators; he could be immobilized and drained to unconsciousness in under two minutes, he was guessing––three, tops.

  He didn’t know their exact reaction times, but he wouldn’t bet on them being long.

  Maybe long enough for him to kill a handful of them, and possibly destroy the two armored vehicles guarding the gates.

  He already felt ripples of attention on him from the seers above.

  They must have some kind of active Barrier field to pick up seer light signatures once they got within a certain proximity to the gate itself. He knew they’d already ID’d him as being not one of theirs. They must put some kind of key or structure in the aleimi of their own people––a not-uncommon practice in any group of isolationists.

  Still, he couldn’t tell yet, if they knew who he was.

  He kept his steps casual, his hands free, visible.

  He kept his light polite, too. He didn’t try to assess the boundaries or security features of the construct itself. Or, more accurately, he did so only overtly, where they could see exactly what and whom he was looking at––the same as any seer would reasonably be expected to do to ensure their own personal safety among unfamiliar seers.

  According to seer etiquette, overt was polite.

  A few dozen human tourists clustered around the white-painted fences, gazing up at the gates and Mao’s portrait above. Revik saw them being shepherded past by white-gloved, green-uniformed soldiers of the People’s Liberation Army (PLA), who only allowed them to look for so long before pointing at the “No Loitering” and “No Pictures” signs in multiple languages on the shrub-dotted lawn. A cloth-covered table stood at the end of the assembly line, where visitors, most of them Chinese, left flowers, amulets, trinkets and baskets of food, most of them purchased at nearby kiosks as offerings to the seers and their ancestors.

  Since the soldiers concentrated their attention more on covering the areas to either side of the main walkway, Revik made his way right up through the center, wading into the thickest part of the crowd.

  As he did, he handed an object to a
human at random, pushing him gently to use it.

  Eyes wide in surprise, the tourist smiled at him gratefully, then pointed the image-capturing device up at the main gate.

  Sensors went off, followed by a high-pitched alarm.

  A flurry of shouted Mandarin and waving white gloves followed as the soldiers descended on the hapless tourist. Two of them grabbed his arms, handcuffing him roughly as a third confiscated the device he likely hadn’t had time to do more than point at the high gates. One of the soldiers smashed it under a booted foot as the others led the human away towards the nearer of the two sets of armored vehicles standing on either side of the bridges.

  The alarms cut off in mid-wail.

  The signal went through the human network that the threat had been neutralized.

  Revik continued walking, aiming his feet for the center footbridge leading to the main gate. Because of the excitement around the camera, no one noticed for a few seconds.

  Then he heard more shouts in Mandarin, calls to halt.

  He kept walking, his strides casual.

  A human guard ran around in front of him. He shoved the muzzle of his rifle into Revik’s chest.

  “Stop!” the man broke out, in heavily accented English. “Stop now!”

  Revik pushed the human easily with his mind, a blown kiss.

  Confusion softened the man’s features. Revik extended the push to the soldiers on either side, as well as those holding rifles on him from the wall above, and those in the armored vehicle. Using the mobile construct he’d woven with his infiltrators prior to his arrival, he extended his influence over most of the small army guarding the fortress gates, his eyes still focused on the one in front of him.

  Still, he did it overtly. Politely.

  Symbols all over his mobile construct flashed at the construct walls of the Lao Hu in the same breath. They proclaimed him harmless. Peaceful.

  He didn’t want to give the Lao Hu the wrong idea.

  The human lowered his gun.

  “Apologies, sir,” he said in Mandarin.

  The human saluted him, clicking his heels. He rejoined the others guarding the entrance from tourists. Revik felt the seers up on the wall reacting to what he’d done.

  They were calm though, utterly unthreatened by him.

  He felt humor on a number of them.

  They thought him an idiot, most likely, for exposing himself as he had. The thought didn’t bother him; on the contrary, he hoped he amused them. He intended his approach to come across as playful. He intended to charm his way in, not cause offense.

  He felt them make a decision to leave the humans under his control, at least briefly, to see what he would do when he reached the main gate.

  Revik scanned the human who stood there in ceremonial garb.

  He hadn’t bothered to push him; the man was unarmed. He was also there for show, a ritualistic tie between the old culture of the City and its newer trappings. Revik felt others behind this human, though, and behind the two humans he saw in similar clothes, guarding each of the round portals that led to the interior walls.

  He also felt the seer paired with the human guard begin to scan him in earnest, working from the other side of the stone wall that formed part of the doorway.

  “I’d like to request an audience,” Revik told the human in Mandarin.

  The human blinked at him, his eyes showing confusion.

  Then he glanced back at the seer Revik still felt scanning him. Getting nothing from them, the human looked hopefully at the soldiers who had gone back to guarding the three stone bridges.

  “Your partner will know who I am in a minute,” Revik added. “While she double checks that with her pals up on the wall…” Revik glanced up at the red-painted stone stretching over where he stood. “…I’d like to request an opportunity to negotiate with a representative of the Lao Hu.”

  The guard’s mouth fell open.

  Then it snapped shut.

  “You cannot come here!” he said, his voice nearly a stutter. Surprise colored his words, covered over in brusque outrage. “There are no requests here! You must petition!” He pointed at the soldiers. “Go back! Go back now!”

  He gestured for Revik to leave, using seer sign language.

  When it didn’t work the first time, he gestured more emphatically.

  Revik just looked at him, waiting for the seer behind him to complete her scan.

  “I think your mistress will make an exception,” he said.

  Just then, the seer herself stepped out from around the stone wall. Wearing a silk dress that fell to high-heeled, embroidered shoes, she bowed deeply to Revik, lowering her face so that her eyes were below his. A black sash cinched her waist, with the gold mark of the Lao Hu on one draping end of the dark cloth.

  Revik nodded to her. “Hello, sister.”

  “Please wait one moment, sir,” she said politely.

  Revik returned the bow with the appropriate countersign. He watched as the seer gave the human blunt instructions in Mandarin.

  “…be polite,” he heard her hiss. “It is the Sword. Syrimne d’Gaos.”

  The human turned, staring up at Revik in shock. The fear in his eyes grew palpable. Revik smiled at him faintly, then folded his arms, glancing down the length of the gate while he waited for the female seer to finish relaying his message.

  It didn’t take long.

  Within minutes, he heard someone running in shoes across the stone courtyard on the other side of the gate.

  Seconds later, two seers stood there, in addition to the female who first greeted him. One, a male wearing the same black sash, looked at him in some curiosity, his head lowered so that his eyes remained below Revik’s.

  The other wore ceremonial dress. Sweating under the elaborate headgear, his face and eyes were bright with exertion as he lowered his head. Revik couldn’t help but find his speed impressive, considering he’d clearly dressed himself prior to running across some not-insignificant portion of the grounds to reach the front gate.

  The man in the ceremonial garb bowed so low his fingers swept the ground.

  “Illustrious Sword,” the Chinese seer said in accented Prexci. “We are very honored to welcome you here, to our humble home.”

  “Thank you, brother.” Revik bowed in return. “The ceremony is appreciated, but entirely unnecessary. I come as a friend. I would like to speak to your mistress––”

  “Of course, sir. Of course. She is quite pleased that you have honored us with a visit.”

  Revik’s lips quirked. “Thank you,” he said, keeping his true thoughts from his light. “I confess, I have always wished to visit your City… since I was a boy. This is a very great honor for me, so the hospitality is warmly received.”

  “She wishes me to express some distress that she has not had the time to prepare for your visit adequately––”

  Revik waved this off also. “I would prefer an informal discussion, if that is pleasing to her.”

  “Of course. She indicates that she would like you to accompany me inside… if you are agreeable to that, Illustrious Sword.”

  Revik bowed again, gesturing his assent.

  “Most agreeable,” he said.

  The seer slid to one side in painted leather shoes so Revik could pass through the gate in front of him. His guide’s head remained low, his eyes looking up from only a few feet above the cobblestones as he walked rapidly just behind him.

  Revik bowed again at the courtesy, but felt his patience ebbing somewhat, even as his eyes once more scanned the high walls.

  This was going to take a really long time, if they followed every one of the ceremonial forms outlined in the Myth’s commentaries.

  Again, he kept his thoughts to himself.

  “Thank you, brother,” he murmured.

  Unfolding his arms, he walked through the gate and entered the Forbidden City.

  The construct enveloped him, surrounding him in a liquid-like membrane as soon as he passed the boundary of
those walls.

  His escort continued to walk swiftly behind him, head low, moving smoothly so that Revik wouldn’t have to adjust his pace.

  “Brother,” Revik said finally, motioning with two fingers. “This bowing, it is not necessary.” When the man smiled at him, raising his head from its awkward angle, he added, “I would prefer it much more if you simply told me where we are going.”

  “We will pass through the Meridian Gate,” the seer answered at once. “Where our leader, the graceful Voi Pai, has asked that you be escorted to her own place of greeting near the Hall of Literary Glory. She thought it a comfortable place for you to meet… informally… as you requested.”

  Revik didn’t respond, but felt his jaw harden a little.

  She didn’t want him anywhere near Allie, in other words.

  Still, she’d let him walk through the gate. Was she trying to avoid war? Or did she plan to sell his wife back to him?

  His frown faded somewhat as he looked around.

  He couldn’t help but be fascinated by the vision that unfolded as they left the front entrance behind. Within a few turns around a secondary structure, lush gardens appeared to either side of a pearl-white, stone road leading to a U-shaped gate, barely discernible at the opposite end. He knew from Barrier imprints that the walls of the Meridian Gate used to be considered quite impressively high prior to the outer walls being built, which dwarfed those of the original structure.

  Revik scanned buildings as they passed.

  Most were barely visible through the trees, set back from the road and enclosed in stone walls. He felt exotic animals and livestock, aviaries filled with birds. Gardens and crops were planted with flowers, vegetables, grains and herbs. He glimpsed a small lake where he felt an abundance of fish, turtles and water birds.