by G R Matthews
The Sio Sam Ong had gathered around the stone courtyard. Three of them. Yunru, her bodyguard, a solid looking woman who glared at me so hard I could feel her pupils gouging into my cheeks, and Bojing.
There was no one else. A private match, fight, chance to settle the scores.
Bojing looked, if anything, more nervous than I did. I’ve been in fights, lost quite a few, walked away from some with fewer bruises than my attacker and spent a few days in hospital because of them too. There is nothing glorious in violence. Not real violence. You hurt and get hurt. Violence can kill. One punch can kill. There was no calling it off now. Too much was at stake. My life for starters and, despite everything, I was quite attached to it.
Hai San stopped at the bottom of the steps and I walked on a few paces before I realised. Ahead of me, Bojing also stepped forward. He was dressed in loose fitting trousers and a long sleeved top which was secured by a silk belt tied around his waist. There was a hint of fear in his eyes and I’d bet he could see the same in mine.
“You can walk away,” I said, struggling to keep my voice controlled. “No hard feelings and all that.”
He didn’t answer which was the most unnerving thing in the world. I’m used to people answering back. He stopped, brought a fist up to his chest, clasped it in his other hand and bowed.
“Right,” I said, giving him a nod. “You too.”
It was at this point, usually, someone threw a punch, a shopping basket, a glass or whatever else came to hand. Nothing. He stood there. One leg in front of the other, hands raised and open, guarding his chest and face.
I exhaled, letting the air carry away my fear and thoughts of mortality. Throat, eyes, groin, stomach, and any target of opportunity. Closed fists were fine, but careful, you could break your hand on someone else’s chin or forehead. Keep the thumb in tight, dislocating that would be painful. I struggled to recall all the things I’d been taught. Fights were fights, born of anger and injustice on the streets and in the bars of home. They weren’t planned duels conducted in silence.
He didn’t move. Waiting for me to move first. I hated this.
“You’re food is horrible,” I said. No reaction. I needed anger, his or mine.
“Are you sleeping with Yunru?” I heard her hiss from the back. Bojing did nothing.
“Was your brother?” A slight tightening around his eyes.
“He really wanted to kill me, you know. He tried and I killed him.” A twitch around his mouth and I felt my rage building. The memory of the threats in the toilet on the sub. “He really tried and he couldn’t do it.” The knife, upraised and ready to plunge down into the bodies of a teenager and a five year old. “He tried to kill little girls. What kind of man kills children?” The punches and kicks in the warehouse. “Come on. Give it your best shot.”
And he did. A straight punch that came out of nowhere and caught me in the chest. I backpedalled and he kept coming, punch after punch. Controlled and fast. Rapid strikes all aimed at the same point. I raised my arms, pushing a punch to the side and stepping around. People retreat in a fight, they rarely remember to actually step out of the way. He staggered on a step or two, all his forward motion, all that energy built up, and he couldn’t stop.
My turn. I jumped forward as he turned to face me. My fist caught him on the cheek and glanced off. It was enough to knock him off balance. Bojing stumbled back and I went for the follow up, a looping hook which went wild and missed by a mile. He righted himself, sinking lower and bending his knees as I stepped in, throwing another punch. An arm intercepted my fist, diverting it away, and his fist caught me in my ribs. The recently hurt and mended ones. Fire blossomed in my chest and I gasped for breath.
More fists flew in my directions. Low this time, aiming at my hurt ribs and I saw a feral smile appear on the translators face. I stepped back, keeping my arms low to protect my ribs. Another step back and I turned to the side, putting my hurt ribs on the opposite side, out of sight and range.
A kick this time. Low and aimed at my knee, I felt it snap back and try to buckle under the impact. With no choices, I pushed my weight forward, bracing my foot against the floor. I jabbed out towards his eyes, not intending to hit, but to force him backwards. Up came a blocking arm and this time he latched onto my wrist with a strong grip, pulling me towards him. I let him, adding a push from my back leg, accelerating my way inside his fists.
I didn’t punch, I went for a grab. Both arms out wide and clinching inwards. Bojing wasn’t set to punch or attack, all he could do was defend and he tried, slapping at my right arm with his, an attempt to disrupt the grab and force me off balance. He missed. I grabbed, wrestling him to the ground, my arms wrapped around his.
We fell, him onto his back and me on top. Bojing raised a knee and I turned to the side, letting it skid off my hip. It hurt and there’d be a bruise later on. Even corpses can have bruises. His hands were tied up and so were mine, but I had leverage and I used it. Raising my head, I looked down into his eyes, felt his arms straining to break my grip and his legs kick, push and scrabble at the ground as he struggled to get free.
I slammed my forehead down and felt his nose break. More than that I felt a massive headache spike its way from neck, up over my skull, right round the back of my eyes and into my jaw line. A river of fire. My skull was coming apart. Splitting in two like an overripe melon. Bursting like an over-inflated football. It fucking hurt, but I did it again.
He stopped struggling. Stopped moving. I held him for a moment. More a lover’s embrace than a death grip. When he still didn’t move, I rolled off and onto the stone floor. My face felt warm and my headache was raging behind my eyes. The ceiling lights stabbed down and I had to close my eyes. It didn’t help, but it was something.
“He is not dead,” I heard someone say and I wasn’t sure if they were referring me or Bojing.
Bojing’s body was lifted from the arm I hadn’t realised was trapped underneath him. And I heard the whisper of cloth as someone knelt down next to me. I opened my eyes to see Yunru’s painted face and hate filled eyes staring down into mine. She spoke, a quiet dry voice that carried only to my ears. “This is not over, Hayes. I will get you.”
“Not here,” I muttered. “Not now. But if you’ve got some Aspirin in your handbag, I could really do with three or four.”
Chapter 55
“She didn’t look happy,” I smiled at Hai San.
“No.”
“And she speaks my language,” I added. “Did you know that?”
“Suspected. No one would employ a translator as poor as Bojing. It is a poor cover, but she is bound by tradition as much, if not more, than anyone.” He poured himself another cup of green tea, tapping the table twice before drinking. “Do not assume it makes you safe. She is a traditionalist, her city is built on those lines. You know, you’ve been there. But she is also a pragmatist. If she deems it necessary to break with tradition and the rules, she will do so. I would advise you not to come back to Da Long cities for many years.”
“You’re telling me I’m not welcome,” I said.
“Your presence here is difficult now.” He took a sip from his tea. “You embarrassed a ranking member of the Sio Sam Ong. They will not forget easily.”
“Oh great.” One thing after another. I wasn’t too upset to have hurt Bojing’s feelings and face. He hadn’t shed a tear when they beat me and put me in that prison. “So I’ll have to watch my back.”
“Yes.”
Another enemy added to the list and I didn’t like the fact that the list was getting quite long. “I’ll be careful.”
Hai San remained silent, drinking his tea. A few minutes later the door to the boardroom opened and one of his staff poked her head in.
“All is ready,” she said.
Hai San nodded. “Well, Mr Hayes, your suit is packed and the girls are waiting to say goodbye.”
“I’m going now?” I’d thought to spend one more night at least. If nothing else I had some sleep
to catch up on.
“I think it is best for everyone,” he said, putting down his empty tea cup and standing.
I followed him out of the room into the second courtyard.
“Does she know?” I said in a whisper as I caught sight of the two girls.
“No,” Hai San replied. “She thinks her mother died a long time ago. It was to keep her safe.”
“Right,” I said, and new sadness came to rest in my chest.
“I want it kept that way,” he said as we walked.
“Maybe she doesn’t,” I answered.
“It is my choice, Corin.” He stopped and turned to me. A slight bow and he held out his hand. I took it in my own and we shook. “Respect my wishes. There are many things you do not understand about our culture. It is better this way.”
“She needs to know,” I said, not releasing his hand. It was a firm shake, I didn’t feel the need to exert pressure and, apparently, neither did he.
“One day,” he agreed. “I will leave you with the girls. Your submarine leaves in less than an hour. I’ve arranged for an escort.”
“To make sure I leave?” I looked over at the two men dressed in dark suits who stood off to one side.
“To make sure you leave safely.” He didn’t smile, but his eyes were bright. “I owe you those debts, Corin, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call upon them. Goodbye.”
He didn’t wait for my words, but spun on his heel and walked back into the house. Three of the guards followed him.
“You’re leaving?” Chunhua said, approaching and holding Lijuan’s hand.
“Seems so.” I forced my tone to be cheerful even as I noticed the similarities between Chunhua and Qiao. “I have a life to get back to.”
“I am sure there are people who miss you,” she said.
“Maybe,” and probably not too much. I could think of a few muscle men who’d want to meet up with me again for a short chat about past histories.
“You could have left us,” she said, glancing up into my eyes.
“Yes,” I agreed. “But I have this strange compulsion to help out when I see children being treated badly. It’s a character flaw.”
“If you’d found the sword none of this would have happened.”
“True,” I agreed.
“And you know where it is?”
There was something in her tone, too inquisitive, too prepared. My suspicious brain took over for a moment. “No idea at all.”
“But you told Yunru,” she said and stopped.
“I told her enough to wind her up, make her angry.” I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. “Sometimes I can’t help myself.”
“Ah,” she said and then her face brightened. One unpleasant chore done and out of the way, perhaps.
“Corin,” Lijuan said.
“We have been practising,” Chunhua said, smiling down at the little girl with the long dark hair and soulful eyes.
I sank to my knees and took Lijuan’s free hand in my own. So small and delicate. So easy to damage. Fragile like those thin cups Hai San drank his tea from.
“Look after yourself,” I said.
“Thank you,” Lijuan said, her little face screwed up with the effort of pronouncing the constants properly.
“A pleasure,” I answered, gave her hand one last squeeze and stood up.
“Look after yourself too,” I said to Chunhua. “Stay close to Lijuan.”
“Goodbye, Corin,” she said and bowed.
I followed suit and also gave a small bow to Lijuan, accompanied by a wide smile and tiny giggle from the little girl.
“Let’s go,” I called to my escort. “Who’s got my luggage?”
Chapter 56
The beer tasted good. Cold and fresh. Little beads of condensation rolled down the glass to puddle on the reinforced table top. Next to the beer, a glass of whiskey. A single. I had plans.
Tonight was quiet. Tom tended bar with his normal cheerful face on display for all to see. If he frowned much more half of the folds on his forehead would slump over his eyes. The other patrons sat silently, drinking their cumulative sorrows and woes. No game was showing on the Panel above the bar and no one had spent any money in the old jukebox. Peace and quiet, and room.
Stepping off the Sub and back into a NOAH city had been a strange experience. I’d gotten used to being surrounded by a lot of people, to hearing them speak without understanding a word, to the different lighting, the signs and smells. Compared to the Da Long cities, my home looked dirty and badly built. It looked like it had been thrown together without a thought to the past or future. Maybe they had something we didn’t; a deeper sense of time.
I’d reported to Derva this morning and given her a brief account of the job she’d sent me on. I didn’t mention the sword as such, I called it an object. She didn’t seem interested in it anyway. Of much more interest was the talk of Super-Cavitation and the minerals that Da Long were going to extract from the vents and smokers.
“Did they say when they were going to start mining?” she’d asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered.
“What is the mineral called?”
“No idea,” I said.
“Where did they discover it?”
“Near some tectonic area, around some black smokers, I think. They didn’t show me on a map,” I snapped. “Why the third degree?”
“Super-cavitation, Corin. If someone could actually make it work and without all the associated noise from the propellers or whatever propulsion method they are going to use, they could go anywhere very quickly and unheard.”
“Big Fish-Suits? I saw something similar to the mineral when I had to hide out after the whole city falling on my thing,” I said, dredging up the memory of the small mining base.
“They cleared everything out of there,” she said. “We sent investigators. Nothing.”
“Maybe Da Long is not the only corporation working on it.”
“Everyone is working on it,” Derva said with a flip of her head and a change of conversation.
At least we’d arranged to meet for dinner later tonight. Which is why I was here, in Tom’s bar, getting in a few drinks just to settle back into my life. I downed the whiskey in one shot instead of sipping and eking out the pleasure, and dropped the empty glasses back on the bar. Tom gave me a nod and I returned the gesture. No point in ruining the party atmosphere with small talk. I left.
The restaurant she’d picked was in the posher part of the city. It was a place I could now afford to eat, maybe once a month. A big difference to my old life. The retainer and wages were handy, plus the jobs off the board kept me in enough money to be comfortable, if nowhere near wealthy. I’d even bought a new shirt for the occasion, an electric blue one which I’d seen in a shop window as I passed by this afternoon. Not too expensive, but not a shop I’d frequent often. One smart shirt was enough for any man.
“Sorry,” I said absently when I bumped into a fellow city dweller. A hand grabbed my elbow and stopped me dead. I turned my head. “I said I was … oh, shit.”
No-neck and Child-beater, the two muscle mountains that I’d, in a moment of stupid heroics, stopped from picking on a woman and child in a store a few weeks ago had a firm hold on me.
“Do I know you?” The words stumbled out of my mouth as I sought something clever to say.
“We’ve been looking for you,” No-neck said.
“Did you contact my secretary for an appointment? I’m sure I have room on my schedule. Shall we say Thursday at ten?” I looked around for help, there was none forthcoming. In fact, the street was emptying quite quickly. I wasn’t in the city proper so a shout for security would go unanswered.
“The boss wants to see you,” Child-beater said.
“Thursday at ten is still free.” I tried to wiggle my arm free, but no-neck just smiled down at my attempts.
“Now,” he said.
“Now is not good for me,” I said.
“Too bad,” No-neck ch
uckled and started to pull me along.
Which is when three men faded out of the shadows. They were from Da Long, there was no doubting it; skin colour, the way they walked, the almond shaped eyes and the hatchets they carried.
“Really? Now?” My luck was going from pretty bad to fucking awful. Wedged between the gang from NOAH and now the Sio Sam Ong, I was a dead man who had forgotten to stop breathing.
“He is ours,” the leader of the Sio Sam Ong trio said.
“Piss off, tiny,” Child-beater said.
“I wouldn’t do that,” I advised, figuring I had a better chance of survival with No-neck and Child-beater’s boss. At least he just wanted to talk to me, whereas the Sio Sam Ong wanted me dead.
“Shut up, Hayes,” No-neck commanded, taking a step forward. “He’s ours. Our boss wants to see him. Got some business to sort out. Put away your little choppers and piss off back to wherever you came from. You’re in NOAH now. Our territory.” He punctuated his speech, which surprisingly wasn’t written down anywhere, and all those complicated syllables too, by slamming one giant fist into the palm of his other hand.
“Really,” I said, “I wouldn’t be…”
Which was as far as I got. The leader of the Sio Sam Ong stepped in and planted his hatchet firmly in the forehead of No-neck. The large man took an unconscious, a reflex from the lizard-brain, step backward and collapsed to the ground. The hatchet remained in his forehead.
Child-beater wrenched me around and threw me into the wall. My head hit it hard and stars swam blurry in my vision. All I saw were vague shapes moving, dark and swift, jumping back and forth, silver flashes and grunts of effort followed by a squeal of pain.
I took a breath and tried to get to my feet, ready to run to somewhere, anywhere. The Sio Sam Ong were not going to be gentle. The street was spinning, cavorting and leaping about in my eyes.
“Mr Hayes,” the accented voice said and I felt a hand take hold of my arm.
“Not me,” I slurred out.
“Do not worry, Mr Hayes,” the voice said. “Hai San sends his compliments and considers the debt clear. We will take the alive one with us and speak to his boss. You should not get into any more trouble.”