by Wesley Chu
Shura leaned forward. “Rurik can’t pay if he’s dead.”
“Then I better make sure he wins.”
You walked into that.
This was pointless. “In this case Abbi, I won’t be wasting any of your time.” She reached for the button to end their communication.
“I want you to know one thing, Shura,” said Abbi quickly. “You think you’re better than me.”
“I am better than you,” she replied. Raised vessels often did not know their place, thinking they were equals to Adonis vessels.
If you are trying to win her over, this may not be the best way to go about it.
“Rurik thinks he is your better as well. What is your point?” said Shura.
“That’s the problem,” the raised vessel replied. “You have a reputation of only improving the standing of those who directly serve you. You also have one of stepping on your rivals. You have never tolerated competition. Rurik, on the other hand, has a reputation of raising the standing of those who deal with him, even if it is unintended.”
“Then serve me,” said Shura.
“You know I won’t do that,” said Abbi. “However, ally with me. I may not be an Adonis vessel, but raise my standing as your equal. My network is extensive. If what you are seeking is in this part of the world, there is a good chance my people have picked it up. Support my claim for all the islands in the South China Sea, and perhaps we can both accomplish what we seek.”
Absolutely not. How dare she make such a demand? It is outrageous and extremely dangerous. Another Adonis would demand her life for such a bold request.
Shura hesitated. The Philippines were a major transportation hub. There was a good chance the Receiver had passed through Abbi’s region. The last known information on the Receiver was that she had fled southeast, likely settling in Prophus-friendly Australia.
It does not matter. Even considering it will disrupt the Genjix hierarchy and turn every Adonis vessel against you. It is not worth the risk.
Shura was raised in the Hatchery, and admittedly carried some of the prejudices that came with a blessed upbringing, but she was not as strident and arrogant as most Adonis vessels. Still, Tabs was correct in that supporting Abbi in her stake for the South China Sea Islands would cause an uproar, and likely make Shura many enemies. The number of Adonis vessels had only grown since the creation of the Hatcheries, with more seeking to lay their claims and raise their standing every day. The number of territories for them to claim, however, had stayed roughly the same or even dwindled as stronger Adonis vessels consolidated their gains. It would be outrageous and outright dangerous to give this position to a raised vessel over an Adonis.
“Good luck in your claim.” Shura closed the connection and turned away. She buried her face in her hands and rubbed her temples. Now she knew what it felt like to be a failed politician cold-calling for contributions. “I don’t think I’ve had this many people turn me down in my lifetime, let alone in a single day.”
She was back where she had started, while Rurik was no doubt focusing all of his energies on locating the Receiver. It was a nearly insurmountable lead. She looked to the side and stared at the map of the world hanging on her wall. She had run out of options within the Genjix network. That left her with only one other choice.
Shura reached across her desk to open the channel. Her fingers hovered for several moments. She closed her eyes. A feeling of deja vu swept over her, and all she could think about was the dreaded weight of making this unwanted phone call.
Shura’s first assignment after she was blessed with a Holy One was to command a reconnaissance company within the 45th Spetsnaz, a brigade that operated exclusively in Western Europe during the Alien World War. Technically, she commanded the captain who commanded the company, but that really was just a technicality. Genjix operatives – Adonis vessels especially – normally functioned outside the normal chains of command.
The position was considered low for someone from the Hatchery. Most of her Hatchery siblings who were activated during the Alien World War operated at the brigade level and commanded generals. This was because her parents had lost the Genjix Council power struggle a generation earlier.
Even though the position was beneath her, Shura took her first command seriously and personally made every death notification for each of her fallen soldiers. Tabs thought it ridiculous that she spent several hours every day notifying the family of her fallen when there was the captain and his lieutenants to perform this tedious, and what Tabs considered meaningless, task. Shura, however, refused to hand that duty off. It was one of the few times she directly disobeyed her Holy One.
Her diligence paid off in the long run as the casualties mounted. Even though it took many hours of her weeks to speak individually with the family members of the fallen soldiers, it fomented a fanaticism among her soldiers that no other Genjix operative enjoyed. Throughout the war, her company earned a ferocious reputation. She became known as Shura the Scalpel, and the division earned the moniker The Scalpel’s Cuts.
Shura had to finally quit personally making death notifications when she was given command of an entire division. By then, late in the war when casualties on both sides were astronomical, death notification had become a full-time job, and she was far too preoccupied trying not to lose the war to handle it any longer.
The memory of making the notifications flooded back to Shura. She pulled her hand away and stood abruptly. She walked to the other end of her office, opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out a decanter with a dark amber liquid. She gave herself a generous pour in a crystal glass and threw it back, feeling the whisky burn her throat and the warmth spread through her body. She considered drinking another, or better yet just bringing the entire decanter back to the desk.
You will need your wits about you.
Shura returned to her desk and banged on the button firmly. A few moments later, an image appeared of a lounging Rurik Melnichenko, dripping wet and shirtless with a towel looped around his waist. Shura really wished she had had that second drink.
He does have a face that begs to be tortured.
“Hello, brother,” she said, with just a hint of deference. As much as she hated it, it was necessary.
He scowled. “What do you want, Shura?”
She mentally added one more grievance to his docket. Rurik had never accepted her as his equal, especially after she stole India from him, and made a point to show his contempt publicly and loudly at every opportunity. One day, she was going to collect on this very large and still-growing debt.
Stick to the task at hand. He affects you the same way. The two of you are simply playing the game differently.
Shura stuck to her mocking formality. “As you are no doubt aware, dear brother, High Father Weston has tasked us with locating the Receiver, no doubt putting us in competition with each other. I’m sure you’re aware that locating the Receiver is probably the most important thing either of us will do in our lifetime in service to the Holy Ones. I propose we set aside our differences and work together on this important matter. What do you say, a truce?”
He broke into a nasty smirk. “I see you’ve tried to access our spy network. Failing that, you now come crawling to me, begging on your hands and knees.”
Shura locked her smile on her face. “I’m just looking out for the greater good. Regardless of our personal relationship, we are both still Genjix and serve the Holy Ones faithfully.”
“You are bold, sister.” He shook his head. “What makes you think I need you at all?”
Shura had an ace up her sleeve. “As you are well aware, I have recently come into a surplus of catalyst reaction rods. An embarrassment of riches. I hear that you recently had to close down several of your Bio Comm Array facilities for lack of these rods. I am prepared to offer from my existing supply in exchange for cooperation in finding the Receiver.”
Rurik’s face contorted in shock. His mouth fell open and stayed
that way for a good while. For so long, in fact, that Shura had thought for a second that their connection had frozen, or better yet he was suffering an aneurysm. Finally, he laughed, a high trilling whine that grated on her ear.
Perhaps you read his reaction wrong.
Shura feigned innocent puzzlement. “Care to share the humor, brother?”
It took him several moments to settle down, though by the end his mirth came out a bit forced. Their acting coach back at the Hatchery would have rolled her eyes at that performance. He shook his head. “Trying to barter the very rods that you stole from me. I have to admit, Shura, you always had the biggest pair in the Hatchery.”
“Think of it as my atonement for our misunderstanding the other week,” she said mildly.
Rurik disappeared off-screen and returned a few seconds later with a drink in his hand. He took a long, slurpy sip and shook his head. “This is what’s going to happen. I’m going to tell you to go to hell, and then I’m going to enjoy watching you flail blindly looking for the Receiver. After I hand-deliver her to the High Father, I’m going to watch you die, Shura. I will even beg to strangle you myself.”
Shura forced a smile onto her face. “Is that how you think it’s going to play out, brother?”
“I do. That is, of course, unless you cede India to me, renounce your standing as an Adonis vessel, and serve under my leadership. I could use an able commander in my Siberian holdings.”
Shura’s calmness broke, just for a flash. “Then may the best Adonis vessel triumph. Remember, we are exempt from the Hard Peace. You will be wise to not cross my path.”
“That’s fine,” he replied. “You won’t be anywhere close to mine when I find the Receiver. I will get to her first. I will be the one who presents her to the High Father. Remember my offer, Shura. It’s your only hope of surviving this.”
Rurik’s projection faded, leaving her alone in the room. She was in grave danger; she knew it. This was also the most uneasy Shura had ever felt Tabs. Not when she was the little girl Alex escaping through the United States wilderness. Not when she was convinced to murder her father. Not during the global war that nearly broke the world. Tabs truly thought Shura was going to die. Even though most Holy Ones cared little about their vessels – just specks in their long existence – she knew Tabs cared about her. Strangely, Shura stayed calm, in control.
Your only option is to assassinate him. Make sure his Holy One has someone to transition to. Take your chances with Weston. Perhaps his fondness for you and your general competence will earn you some leniency.
Shura drummed her fingers on her desk and stared out the window again at the harbor in the distance and the ships passing down the river. She could continue to try to access a spy network, perhaps even the Chinese government’s, but she knew Rurik would likely have those avenues covered. He was a very thorough man. She was loath to show weakness and beg Weston for a favor. No, he wouldn’t give it. Not when he had already walked her down this path.
Perhaps we should consider Rurik’s offer. You fell once and fought your way back. You can do it again.
Shura turned her attention to the map on the wall, looking for a way to unravel this conundrum. The drumming of her fingers increased in tempo until finally she was rapping her fist on the table. Then it stopped. The solution was clear. The drumming still echoed in her ears. Sometimes, the only way to solve an impossible problem was to do the outrageous.
Shura tapped on the comm and opened a new channel. A moment later, Abbi appeared on the screen.
“Yes, Adonis?”
“I’ve reconsidered my position.”
Chapter Thirteen
Consequences
The first sign of problems at the Prophus Training Academy was on Ella’s first day. She was placed in shared housing with a young woman named Amy Ng, whose parents were career Prophus operatives. Ella had not shared a space for many years, and did not take well to it.
Ella immediately took a dislike to the bubbly teenager from Yorkshire. She kept her feelings under wraps, and, because she was on her best behavior, managed to bear it for all of two weeks. Her restraint surprised me.
One day, Amy brought her boyfriend to their room and asked Ella to sleep outside. She finally snapped and threatened to stab them both. She would have made good on her threat if I had not stopped her. Needless to say, the roommates’ relationship went downhill from there.
Ella and Lee reached the main street leading into the Kabukicho District. Rush hour had mercifully ended so the time it took to drive there wasn’t too bad. The night life in Tokyo was just coming alive. The rest of the outfit was waiting in the shadow of an awning at the busy intersection. Ella jumped out of the truck and met up with her grim-faced crew. Lee came bounding from the other side a moment later, a traditional bo staff slung over his shoulder. Hinata, bouncing a lead pipe in his hand, waved them over. Kaoru had her rubber mallet, and behind her stood Daiki with his… Ella squinted. “Is that a tennis racket?”
“Racquetball.” He looked crestfallen. “My brother has baseball practice.”
“I should send you home.”
He stammered. “What for?”
“For bringing a stupid weapon.” She took a quick head count. “Where’s Pek?”
Remember his test?
“Right. Good day to ask for time off, I guess.”
Pek had a history exam today. Ella had promised his big brother that, no matter what, the crew’s work would not interfere with their grades. She really should stop meeting everyone’s family. It was affecting her business. Then again, she would rather Pek not be involved in something like this anyway.
“How many?” she asked.
“Five,” said Hinata. “Pretty even.”
Not even close to even with this sad bunch. I told you to recruit that big Mung boy. You need the muscle.
“We’re not supposed to ever have to fight.”
And now look at where you are.
“Where’s Asao?” she said aloud.
“He’s hiding in the shaved ice cafe across the street,” said Kaoru.
“Coward,” muttered Ella. “Where are the yakuza?”
“In the back loading up our goods,” said Kaoru. “They found our stuff while ransacking the bar. They took a break to fetch a van.”
“What’s the plan?” asked Daiki.
I do not recommend a frontal confrontation. The gangsters are all likely older, stronger, more experienced.
Ella reviewed her scrawny, undersized team. Io wasn’t wrong when she said that they were not built for a fight. She wasn’t confident that the Burglar Alarms could even put up much of one. Definitely not against the yakuza. Perhaps not even against the junior team stealing their stuff.
When Ella put this team together five months ago, she wanted to avoid confrontations and violence. She went through great pains avoiding danger, scoping jobs where no one would get hurt. It had limited their options but also kept the outfit out of harm’s way. She had aborted entire week-long jobs at the slightest hint of something going wrong. Her outfit had complained about her cautiousness, but after Crate Town, she knew better.
This time was different. This time they had no choice. Confrontation was not only at their base of operations, it was stealing their stuff.
You can cut your losses and just abandon the goods and this base of operations. Start all over. The goods are not valuable enough to risk everything. If you insist on fighting, this should be our strategy. We have the element of surprise. They will be clustered in the back room and guarding the alley. Use the clutter in the bar to our advantage.
For a split second, Ella entertained giving up all their loot and abandoning the World-Famous. Her face blackened, and then the split second ended. She began to rack her brain trying to come up with a plan where no one got hurt. There really wasn’t one. A fight was inevitable. Unless…
Ella grabbed Hinata by the sleeve and pointed at the entrance to
the alley. “I want all of you to stick together. That’s the only way in and out. Stay near the entrance. Get their attention and distract them. Don’t fight though. If they come at you, run away. I’m going to go around the bar and hit them from behind and try to take down one or two of them to even up the odds.”
What? This plan makes no sense.
“If I get caught sneaking up on them, just get out of here.”
Daiki ticked off his fingers. “But we have the same number of people.”
Hinata frowned. “You’re going to go in alone? That’s the dumbest–”
Ella took off before the rest of her crew could protest further. She weaved through the busy crowds, packed with curious tourists and the sordid locals who frequented the Kabukicho District at this late hour. If anything, the constant assault of glittering lights and cacophony was the perfect cover, far more effective than darkness and silence.
You will get yourself killed if you do this alone. The odds are already bad with all of the Burglar Alarms helping. This is suicide.
“I don’t want the others to get hurt.”
This is what they signed up for. This is part of being a crew. It is not too late to just walk away from this.
Io was right. Going as a team heavy and hard was the right way to fight these thugs. However, she balked at sending the Burglar Alarms into danger. In the past, it had never bothered her when people she worked with got hurt, maimed, or arrested while on a score. Everyone knew and accepted the risks. It was part of the job. These kids, though, might have said they accepted the risk, but she didn’t think they truly understood it.
Back in Crate Town, danger was part of survival, part of everyday living on the street. Life was cheap. After a person accepted that truth, they could overcome their fear of dying. Only then could they be free to take the risks they needed to survive. Ella had learned her lesson early. There was barely a week that she didn’t hear about someone getting robbed and stabbed and left to die in a ditch, or someone starving to death or dying from getting rust in their blood. It was just the way things were. Everyone knew and accepted the stakes.