“I am a resident!” called Sasha Ivanovich. “I have a penthouse on Formosa.”
The gunmen laughed. “Your party house doesn’t count. Do you know anyone in the neighborhood?”
“I do,” called Andrea. “If you let me approach, I have something to tell you.”
“Just you. No one else.”
Andrea slowly walked toward the man then spoke to him briefly in hushed tones. He nodded, then spent a few moments in apparent silence, no doubt communicating with his superiors. When he spoke again, it was only to wave us through.
“Go through, the place you’re looking for is two blocks up.”
Where are we meeting them? I asked.
The Great Wall Art Museum, Andrea replied. Our contact is Tatiana Xiao.
She led the way through the airlock, and we entered the territory of the Black Kuei. I don’t know what I was expecting, but Great Wall wasn’t it. The section was a mess, a place full of crumbling plasticrete scarred up by graffiti, cracked and worn streets, and the shuttered windows of abandoned buildings. Here and there, suspicious faces peered out from dark windows behind broken glass.
Jones sent a message. You’d think the most powerful crime organization on either side of the wall would be a bit more concerned with public relations.
They don’t really need it. Andrea replied. They control this neighborhood completely and have no real need for the public to like them.
I didn’t know about that. The other syndicates had been such a problem for us because of the support they had from ordinary citizens. Ingratiating the people meant that the syndicates had that many more eyes and ears. It had been frighteningly effective, so it seemed odd to me that the Black Kuei wouldn’t bother. Had they made the mistake of believing money and resources would be all they needed? Hoarding their wealth and hoping to buy their way out of any problem while the city rots around them.
I shook my head. I was thinking too much. Great Wall wasn’t worth it, and the sooner we could make the arrangements with our contact to get us out of here, the happier I would be.
There’s the museum up there, Veraldi told us. I looked up ahead, but at first all I saw was a massive temple in the distinctive Russo-Sino style, all pagoda roofs and onion domes in a tackily conspicuous display of wealth and power. Then I realized that was the art museum, and the tattooed young men standing out in front of it with submachine guns in their hands were its guards.
Why do they need all those guys to guard an art museum? I asked the group.
It was Jones who replied. It makes perfect sense, really. Art is an ideal mechanism for money laundering and hiding wealth for later liquidation. This is basically the Black Kuei’s bank, and they’re going to protect it with everything they’ve got.
The guards stepped aside as we approached, although they made sure to stare at us with blank faces as we walked past. The Black Kuei gunmen didn’t favor the flowing tunics or mask-like scarves worn by most of the inhabitants of East Hellas. Instead, they wore black suits with white shirts and skinny ties, with pitch-black glasses that gave them the appearance of insect people.
Why are they just letting us through? I asked. We’re heavily armed.
Look up, replied Andrea. Always look up.
I did as she said, and I saw the cannon tracking our movement from the ceiling. In the open air between, half a dozen drones hovered as quietly as any watchful predator. The Black Kuei had allowed us to enter their sanctuary with our weapons because our weapons didn’t matter.
Thomas sent a message. Hacking the control systems now.
“I kindly ask that you stop,” said Tatiana Xiao, stepping out from behind a T’ang Dynasty horse statue. “We have already detected the intrusion, and if you make it beyond our outer security shell, the drones will open fire.”
Thomas threw Andrea a guilty look, and she sent a message immediately. Abort.
“I am Tatiana Xiao. Welcome to the Great Wall Art Museum.” Xiao’s outfit was identical to that of the men outside. The same black suit and tie in a feminine cut and the same dark glasses. The only real difference was that she carried no weapon, but then she had no need of a weapon with all those drones. Based on her thick Russo-Sino accent, she was a recent Earth immigrant.
“I’m Andrea Capanelli. You know who we’re with.”
“I am afraid not. I must admit, I am rather curious on that point. Still, I think I have a good idea. You are a group of covert operatives. You work for a government, and considering the resources you have access to, that government is most likely the Sol Federation. You do not work for any of the eight intelligence Sections, because your actions are blatantly illegal and could never be publicly acknowledged. A ninth Section perhaps, for black operations?”
Andrea was stunned into silence for several seconds, and so was I. The way Xiao had laid it out, it made me wonder if there was anyone who didn’t know about Section 9.
Xiao laughed. “There is no need to say anything. My curiosity is amply satisfied. We have several things to discuss. If you do not mind spending a few minutes speaking with me, your people can feel free to browse the art collection.”
This wasn’t a request, but a demand from the Black Kuei to keep the conversation limited to as few ears as possible. Andrea took a breath. “Stay where you can see me, everyone.”
I turned to Ivanovich. “Come on. Let’s go look at some art.”
He shrugged. “Why not? It looks like they have some Socialist Realism pieces over here.”
He led me over to the far right, where the museum had a small but impressive collection of 20th century Russian artwork. One piece had a colossal factory worker pouring molten metal. Another had a blonde woman with a sickle, harvesting grain beneath a bright blue sky.
Jones came up from behind us. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for an art fan, Sasha.”
Ivanovich grunted. “You know nothing. Russian people are highly cultured, and the Soviet period was one of the greatest in our history.”
“I’m not an expert,” I commented. “But weren’t they radicals? Liberate the people from their oppressors and so on, like Hafidi’s people?”
The scientist shrugged. “Every empire has some faith to peddle. That’s what keeps the scum working so hard. Like our hero here, slaving away at a foundry while his betters run the empire. That’s what went wrong here in East Hellas. The company never created an ideology, they just expected people to do whatever they were told. But with a good ideology, they would want to do it. It was a stupid oversight.”
I didn’t have anything to say to his cynical speech, and I stood there silently as we both looked at the art and saw different things. A few minutes later he moved on, wandering slowly along the wall in search of more Russian items. When he’d exhausted their collection, he drifted over to the other wall to grimace at the Chinese works: T’ang Dynasty jade figurines, Sung Dynasty landscape paintings, and Ming calligraphy.
Even back on Earth, there weren’t many museums left with such a deep collection of ancient Chinese items. The combined value of all this artwork was probably more than the property values of every building in Great Wall combined. Outside these walls, people lived and died in crumbling plasticrete block housing, while men with guns stood guard around this gallery filled with pretty pictures from long ago.
I looked around, taking in the sheer opulence the Black Kuei had slathered over every inch of space—glittering crystal chandeliers and bright silk tapestries, huge paintings worth more than I would make in my lifetime, an emerald necklace, a collection of porcelain.
I heard nervous laughter and realized too late that I was the one who was laughing. Tatiana Xiao came wandering over with Andrea just behind her.
“Something amuses you?” Xiao didn’t sound offended, but something told me she never would. She didn’t seem like the sort to wear her emotions on her sleeve. Quite the opposite, I imagined. She’d be inscrutable even if she had already decided to kill me.
“It’s the contrast.�
�� I gestured around the room and she nodded slowly.
“If we were in a story, this would be the part where I explain my criminal philosophy to you. Something pretentious and nihilistic. Yes?”
I raised my eyebrows, and Andrea flashed me a warning look.
Xiao continued. “I will not do that. We live in hell here, and the syndicates are the only means out. Do you understand?”
I understood, but I wasn’t at all sure it applied to her. I was certain she wasn’t even a native Martian, so how could this ever have been her only way out?
Andrea stepped in. “My colleague has had a long day. Please forgive his impertinence.”
“There is nothing to forgive. The Black Kuei is truly monstrous; we are all in agreement on that. Every member of the Black Kuei is well aware of it. No one likes it, everyone does it. That is the way of things.”
She shook her head as if to clear it, then she strode rapidly to the guest information table in the back of the hall and opened a drawer. She pulled out a black bag. “Travel documents and pocket litter to support your cover, along with a selection of clothing and accessories to alter your appearance. You are no longer spies from this point, but simple refugees in need of asylum. Please get changed then we will go up to the roof. Our private train is waiting.”
18
Once again, I was in a stupid outfit. We were posing as refugees, foreign contractors deported by Ares Terrestrial as scapegoats for the uprising. Under East Hellas labor law, protections and benefits were only for citizens and did not apply to precarious workers hired from off-world for short-term projects.
To ensure that such workers didn’t forget their place, they were required to wear one-piece neon work uniforms stating their place of employment. Mine, for instance, said TOBOL GAS WORKS and was a sickly shade of bright orange. Jones was a fellow employee of Tobol, while Young was a low-level engineer for the Brixton Sand Refinery in a bright purple outfit. Andrea wore the yellowish-green uniform of the Sanitation Corps, and Bray’s arms and legs jutted out ridiculously from the not-quite-huge-enough pink uniform of the Medical Waste Disposal Unit. Veraldi’s pink outfit was a much better fit, but Ivanovich was grimacing awkwardly in the extremely yellow and baggy work clothing of one of Ares Terrestrial’s cafeteria staff.
“They’re mocking us intentionally,” I muttered to Jones, but all he did was shrug and grin.
“You look…fairly convincing.” Xiao was looking us up and down with an expression that suggested we weren’t fooling anyone. “Please follow me, and we can complete your extraction from East Hellas.”
She led us up a white marble staircase, the drones trailing behind her like obedient dogs. They must have been tethered to her dataspike, and I suspected they were programmed to kill everyone in the room if anything critical happened to her vital signs. When we reached the top, she opened a door and led us out onto the museum rooftop. Just as she’d said, there was a private maglev waiting for us on a track that curved all around the district before eventually disappearing from sight in the direction of the Wall.
“This is our VIP maglev. It’s typically used for special guests of state. We do not want StateSec to think you are VIPs, though. It would attract too much attention.”
Andrea was looking at the train with some trepidation. “So what’s our cover story?”
“We have already sent three loads of genuine refugees to establish that cover story. It is a humanitarian campaign by the Black Kuei to assist noncitizens threatened by political oppression. It will not be questioned.”
“Are you sure about that?” asked Bray, looking nonsensical in his uniform. “This gun doesn’t look like something you’d use to clear medical waste.”
“I agree. It will not do to have you approach the border control gate as heavily armed as you are. West Hellas sentries will not allow you to pass while armed at all. For this subterfuge to succeed, you must surrender your weapons.”
“Uh-uh.” Bray shook his head. “No way. I had to fight some mythic shit just a couple of hours ago. There’s no way in hell I’m giving this gun up.”
“I understand your concern.” Xiao frowned. “Yet there is no other way. Please, take a moment to consult with your commanding officer. Discuss the matter among yourselves. I would not have you do anything you would feel uncomfortable with.”
She went back through the door to give us time to talk, but the drones were still hovering directly above our heads. It was obvious to me that if we refused to comply, it would be just as easy for them to kill us all.
Andrea looked around at us. “Opinions. Tycho first.”
“Why is Tycho going first?” asked Jones.
“Because he’s the most opinionated. Easiest thing to do is to let him say his piece and get it out of the way.”
I glanced up at the drones as I started speaking. “I’m not sure we have a choice. If we decide to refuse, they could give the order for those drones to kill us. We can’t just hack them because of the security failsafe. We can’t just shoot them down, not even with Bray’s cannon, unless we’re willing to take some casualties. If we decide to refuse, there’s no way out without losing some people.”
“And no guarantee we wouldn’t lose everyone,” Veraldi added. “But I don’t know. If they’re planning to kill us, then disarming us first is their safest option. Which implies that they aren’t so confident we wouldn’t survive the drone attack. This is a lesser of two evils problem. The only question is which one is the lesser?”
Andrea nodded. “Bray?”
“I vote we shoot everything.”
“Always a valid option. Young?”
“We hack their drones. The notion that I can’t figure out a way around their detection systems is frankly nonsense.”
“That isn’t the question we’re deciding here. Jones?”
Ivanovich scowled. “You’re not going to ask me my opinion, are you?”
“Fuck no, we’re not,” Jones replied. He turned back to Andrea. “We’ve been in worse situations than this before. Are those drones more dangerous than August Marcenn’s androids? More dangerous than a cyborg chimera? I don’t think so. On the other hand, Tycho may be right that we would take some casualties. Our safest bet is to get on the train then reassess when we’re no longer under the gun.”
Andrea nodded. “Agreed. We accept the train ride.”
As soon as she said that, Tatiana Xiao stepped out onto the roof. She must have heard every word we’d said, including Bray’s cheerful vote for shooting “everything.”
“You have come to a decision then?”
“We have,” replied Andrea. “And we thank you for your assistance. The people we work for will not forget what you’ve done for us.”
“I should expect not. We will hear from you, should the Sol Federation choose to target our operations, yes?”
This was a dirty business, but the deal we were making was grimy. Telling the Black Kuei about a law enforcement operation was something I didn’t think I could stomach. Andrea must have seen the look on my face, because she sent me a message.
Lock it up.
She smiled at Xiao. “Of course. One good deed deserves another.”
Xiao returned the smile. “The maglev is yours. It will take you directly to a West Hellas border control checkpoint. I wish you the best of luck in all your endeavors.” She bowed slightly with her hands together.
“Come on, team. Leave your weapons here.”
Nobody looked happy, but Bray looked more miserable than anyone else. He was giving up a weapon so powerful that it made him the equal of any cyborg the company could throw at us. We stacked up our guns, all of which would no doubt be going straight into the armory of the Black Kuei. Without another word, Andrea led us into the private train. It started moving as soon as the door closed, and Vincenzo turned to Andrea with a nervous expression. “Do you think we can trust Tatiana Xiao? Or the Black Kuei, for that matter?”
“I do not. I just wanted to get us out from u
nder those drones. There are dozens of methods to cross the border, but Xiao chose the one with the most exposure, the least egress, and of course the one that would leave us completely unarmed. There’s no doubt in my mind that this is a trap.”
The maglev was smooth, speeding around Great Wall on a dedicated track. The rail took us past the rooftops of luxury hotels, high-end restaurants, and trendy nightclubs. Every syndicate hot spot in the otherwise dreary district of Great Wall.
Bray put a hand up to his head. “I’m confused. We walked into a trap on purpose?”
“No time to talk about it. You can criticize my decision over beers later if you want. The important point now is to get out of the trap. Tycho, do you still have that skeleton key of yours?”
I nodded. That thing had come in handy so many times, I was hardly likely to give it up.
“I need you to go up front and see if you can disable the train’s AI. Think you can handle that?”
“He did it before,” said Veraldi. “When we jumped off the train.”
Thomas frowned. “You’re joking, right Andrea?”
Andrea sending me on a hacking job must have really offended him. It would be like asking me to take Raven’s place as the team sniper, or Veraldi’s as the close quarters combatives expert.
“Not at all, and I don’t have time to argue about it. Get going, Tycho.”
I walked down the aisle as the train streaked past its usual stops. On one of the rooftops we passed, I caught a glimpse of a syndicate gunman watching us through a pair of binoculars. As I headed for the door, I heard Andrea giving Young his instructions.
“I need you to do something else, something that should be more of a challenge for you. Can you falsify the rail sensor data and make it appear as though the maglev is doing exactly what it’s supposed to be doing? To anyone watching those sensors, it needs to look like the train is on course at all times and operating normally.”
Sol Arbiter Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 66