The Lives of Tao

by Wesley Chu

  Watch his left. He is a southpaw.

  “Just out of professional curiosity,” Sonya asked, “what gave me away?”

  The tail smirked. “You’re good, girl. I give you that. You don’t think you were the only one listening in on Mr Tan, do you? I picked up your interference. Our toys are better than your toys.”

  “That is true,” she conceded.

  “What about me?” he asked. “What gave me away? It’d be good to fix for next time.”

  Sonya shrugged. “You just weren’t that good.”

  It was a brief and ugly exchange, and was over in moments.

  When it was over, Sonya stepped out alone from the alley, dusting off some grime that got onto her clothes when she threw his body into the dumpster.

  “I think it’s time Roen quit his job. Going to work is getting way too dangerous for him. And me.”

  I agree. We will arrange to have him laid off. At least then he gets severance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  T’AI CHI

  And for the third and last time, I faltered. My sin against Zhu was great. In order to save what we had built, I destroyed it from within – through him. I betrayed his trust and twisted him into everything he wasn’t. This was done in order to save his people, I told myself. His peaceful reign became one of suspicion and terror. I conceived the birth of the infamous secret police which terrorized his people. I sent his armies forth to suppress all dissension. I destroyed my own dream.

  “Relax your breathing. Feel the chi flow through your arms. Push with your entire body, not just your arms.”

  Roen let Sifu Lin drone on in the background as he focused on the Chen-style form. It always surprised him how much he sweated practicing t’ai chi. It was even more surprising how hard it was to move at a slow and controlled pace. He originally thought moving at a snail’s pace would be much easier than moving fast, but that wasn’t the case. It forced him to pay attention to his body in a completely different manner.

  “I said, not your muscles!” Lin admonished.

  Roen felt a sharp rap on his shoulder from Lin’s stick.

  Roen had avoided sports as a youth and had never developed any athleticism. Sonya’s training improved his conditioning and strength, but she wasn’t able to improve his coordination. She explained that physical coordination required years of practice to obtain muscle memory. Since Roen started training his body later in life, it was a harder lesson for his body to grasp.

  Lin’s teaching was the complete opposite. In fact, the pudgy short t’ai chi master taught him to stop thinking about using muscles altogether. Roen realized then that he had a natural affinity for t’ai chi and his progress had been quick. Lin often commented that it was because Roen was a totally empty canvas with nothing to unlearn.

  “The muscle is only a small part of the body,” Lin continued. “When you punch with muscle, you are using a fraction of the power one can generate; the arm, forearm, or parts of the upper chest, but not all of you.”

  Focus on relaxing. Worry about what to eat for dinner later.

  Tao’s ever-present advice sped up Roen’s development as well. It helped that he had two very demanding teachers. While Sifu Lin constantly berated Roen for every small mistake, Tao was even harder on him, scolding him not only for mistakes he made but for times when his mind wandered. While frustrating, it was one of the few times he heard Tao become so passionate.

  “I am, Tao. Leave me alone. You’re screwing up my concentration.”

  Maybe if you stopped thinking about food every five minutes.

  “I can’t help it. This everlasting diet is killing me. I want some steak and potatoes so badly.”

  Your “Buddha pounds the mortar” looks pitiful.

  “Well, maybe if you...”

  Another sharp rap on the shoulder from Sifu Lin’s long stick caught Roen’s attention. “Stop wasting my time and listen to Tao,” Lin said.

  “Wha’...? How did you know what Tao was saying?” Roen asked.

  “I know exactly what he said, considering your terrible posture and the lazy Buddha-pounds-mortar. Looks more like grandma-slaps-baby’s-butt. And your silk-reeling looks like fairy dancing.” Lin gave him another poke in the ribs for good measure. “Again!”

  Roen gritted his teeth and began anew, working through the form. He reached the same segment he was previously at when he felt the sting of the stick again.

  “Gah!” he yelled in annoyance.

  “Your silk-reeling is awful.” Lin scowled. “Your right arm should move like this. Your left hand should move like that, and it should all flow.” Lin demonstrated the move more fluidly than Roen could ever hope to do.

  He is right, you know. You are making San-Feng roll in his grave right now.

  “The move doesn’t seem to have any purpose, Sifu Lin. I feel like I’m just waving my hands in the air,” Roen protested.

  Now you asked for it. Why would I invent a move that has no purpose?

  “You think ‘silk-reeling’ is frivolous?” Lin sounded like a four year-old discovering the truth about Santa. “Here, grab my wrist.”

  Facing him, Roen grabbed Lin’s right wrist. Then, before he could react, Lin performed the same smooth silk-reeling motion and suddenly, a sharp pain shot up Roen’s arm as Lin escaped Roen’s clutch and reversed the hold. “I can also do this to your fingers.” Lin demonstrated that. “And your shoulders.” He slipped his right hand under Roen’s armpit and flipped him onto his back. “And if I get my hands on your head, well, it might snap off. The only reason you cannot make it work is because you are doing it wrong. Don’t presume these moves are worthless because you’re too incompetent.”

  Someone started clapping. Roen looked up from the floor and saw Sonya smirking as she walked up and embraced the wizened old man. Roen’s face turned a slight shade of red, and he picked himself up from the floor.

  “What brings you here today, child?” Lin said warmly.

  “I have the intelligence reports from the Tibetan underground you requested. I told them I’d deliver it personally. I have a date with Roen after you’re through with him. We’re going to learn to block throwing knives. How is his training coming along?” she asked.

  “Block knives?” Lin chuckled. “His brain talks too slow to his hands to block knives. He’s a clumsy oaf. He forgets things right after I tell him and whines like a little girl, but he’s much further along than I expected.” It must have hurt Lin to say that. It almost sounded like a compliment. If Roen didn’t know better, his master almost sounded proud. “He could be adequate one day, once he stops being such a slow-witted buffoon.” Lin smiled at Sonya. “Why, child, are you afraid he’ll one day surpass you? Are you ready to try t’ai chi again?”

  Sonya shook her head. “I tried it three times already, Master. It’s just not for me. Besides, I’ve never met a t’ai chi practitioner besides you that could take me on.”

  “Really?” Lin grinned, with a conniving look on his face. “That sounds like a direct challenge... to Roen.”

  “What?” Roen said, startled. “No it didn’t!”

  Sure sounded like one.

  “Shut up, Tao! You just like seeing me get beat up.”

  I admit I find a perverse enjoyment in that.

  “Show some respect to your family art, boy, and defend its honor,” Lin growled. Sonya grinned, took off her jacket, and cracked her knuckles.

  Roen sighed and met her in the center of the circle. He’d thought his days of physical abuse by her were over.

  The two bowed and circled each other. Roen had sparred with Sonya dozens of times now and was familiar with her techniques. She utilized Krav Maga’s aggressive style to batter through her opponent’s defenses. She was also fast and had few real weaknesses. She utilized angles, her legs were quick, and she did not have a dominant hand she relied on.

  Roen thought the only real weakness she had was her defense. Sonya did not like to retreat. The few times he was able to set h
er back on her heels, she would disengage to look for a new angle.

  Not a bad analysis. Utilize your superior weight. Watch her kick to your chin. She is flexible and likes to sneak it high once in a while, which you often fall for, I might add. Remember that she likes to go forward, sometimes a bit too much. Take advantage of that. And watch out for that right hook!

  Roen measured her footsteps as she moved, feinting to the left and right, until she suddenly leaped toward him, throwing a jab as she closed in. Roen twisted and countered, throwing a combination of his own. She blocked his attack and kneed him in the stomach. He grunted and retreated, managing a grazing punch to her chin as he moved backward.

  If she had any reaction from his blow, she didn’t show it. Immediately, she went on the offensive again. Roen rolled with the punches, squatting low and dodging, keeping his elbows tight to his ribs. Then – right as she overextended herself just a smidgeon – he launched himself toward her. The attack caught her off guard and he slammed into her, knocking her off her feet.

  You took too many hits setting that up. That only works on smaller opponents anyway, and you will not be engaging many her size.

  Sonya picked herself up and looked impressed. “Very well done, good sir. I see you have learned something, though you had to block several of my punches with your head for that.”

  Roen gingerly touched his eye and blinked. There would be a beautiful black eye in the morning. “Part of my master plan.” He grinned. It hurt a little to smile.

  She put on her game face and launched at him again, initiating the attack with a left-right combination. Instead of blocking, Roen spun to his left and her blow just missed him. He kept spinning until he made a full turn and was now behind her. She was precariously out of position, and he went to work. He grabbed her in a bear hug. Sonya grunted in surprise as he lifted her up. Even sweating, she smelled good.

  He grinned triumphantly. “I got you this time. You can’t get out of this. Give up and...” She kicked back and caught him in the knee. His legs buckled; she threw her head back, striking him in the forehead. “Ahhh,” Roen cried, dazed, but he held on.

  On the side, Lin laughed. “I didn’t teach you t’ai chi so you could become a professional wrestler, stupid boy.”

  That looked painful.

  “Thanks for the useless observation, Tao.”

  Sonya took the opening to squirm out of his bear hug and kick him in the face. Roen’s head snapped back, and he crumpled to the floor. She stood over him, panting and grinning. “Not bad. This was your best effort yet. You move like a t’ai chi practitioner already. You don’t hit like one, but you’re starting to move like one.” She offered her hand.

  “I think I need to lie here for a few minutes.” He grimaced. “I’m feeling light-headed.”

  “Come on, you big baby.” She grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet, ignoring his groans. Roen leaned on her as they walked back to Lin. She felt very soft.

  “You did not win, but I was not disappointed.” Lin nodded.

  Roen wasn’t sure, but that could’ve been the second almost compliment he had ever received from Lin. Twice in one day. What was this world coming to?

  “Well, this was fun, but we have to get going,” Sonya said as she wiped her face and grabbed her jacket. “Get dressed, Roen. I’m taking you out to dinner, my apology in advance for what I’m about to put you through tonight.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  AWAY GAME

  To make matters worse, the plague found its way to these lands anyway. The turmoil I had created set the tone for the next three hundred years until the dynasty fell. When Zhu died, I had my fill of empires and dreams, and decided to return west. This part of the world deserved to be free of me, for I had brought nothing to the people here except death and tyranny.

  Exactly seven months into his life as a host, Roen was laid off from his job when his company found contractors in India who did the same work for a quarter of the price. It was a mixed blessing of sorts. Tao had no choice then but to put him on a Prophus stipend, meaning his official job from that point on was to not screw up his missions too badly. The stipend, though, was pitifully small.

  “No wonder Marc defected,” he said, gaping at the first check that came in.

  You start at the bottom of the totem pole like every other rookie. Why do you think I told you to keep your job?

  “How can I afford anything with this? I get more collecting unemployment!”

  Bullets are expensive. Learn to shoot better.

  “Do I ever get more?”

  You mean like a raise? Sure, start killing Genjix or better yet, invent Quasing membrane reproduction in this atmosphere. Command would probably buy you a tropical island then.

  “I’d like Moorea please.”

  You will have to get in line for that one.

  Much to his chagrin, Roen immediately began to miss his old job. It was one of the last pieces of his normal, prior life he had left. A year ago, he would have rejoiced at being laid off and becoming a full-time agent. Now, it made him sad. He spent his first few unemployed days waking up early and staring from his balcony at the hundreds of people bustling off to work.

  “I used to be one of them. I don’t know if I like the new me.”

  There is a period of adjustment, Roen. You are simply maturing into your new role.

  “Period of adjustment? Is that what you call it? I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  Since Roen no longer had disposable income to do much else, he found himself spending more time training with Sifu Lin. Lin seemed to have finally warmed up to Roen, which wasn’t saying much. The stick was still there, as were the constant verbal punishments, but more and more, Lin spent his time teaching rather than punishing.

  November 15th became a day that Roen considered as important as his birthday, or whenever Jill’s birthday was. That day was the first time he successfully landed a blow on Lin. Roen didn’t know which of them was more shocked.

  The strike resulted from a complex series of feints and sidesteps – that started with Roen getting punched four times – before he caught Lin out of position, and popped him on his chubby cheeks. It was a satisfying punch. Very satisfying. Lin blinked once in surprise before he howled with laughter, and with what Roen could only presume was pride. Then Lin actually stopped training early to sit and enjoy several bottles of Lin’s favorite beverage: Taiwan Beer.

  Roen should have known it was a trap. After he had gotten drunk, Lin insisted on continuing their lesson. What happened afterward wasn’t pretty.

  The new year rolled around and Roen had just returned from a six-week-long string of assignments, culminating in a security detail escorting a prominent host. He was in Iowa as part of the protection detail for a Prophus presidential nominee. While the Secret Service officially managed the nominee’s security, a dozen Prophus agents worked around the clock to ensure her safety from the real threat of Genjix assassination.

  Intelligence had found a Genjix sniper team on top of a building outside the nominee’s hotel. The Prophus came down in full force on the sniper team and neutralized them just before the nominee left her car. During the exchange, Roen startled a sniper trying to escape, and the sniper tripped and fell off the side of the building. The rest of the team thought enough of Roen to give him credit for the kill. Their nominee lost the Iowa primary by thirty points.

  “We really know how to pick them, don’t we?” he muttered as he drove back home.

  We knew she was a long shot, but we had to try. Getting one of us in the White House is a real game changer.

  “Still, thirty points? Stalin could run in the Iowa primaries and do better than thirty points.”

  Regardless, there was an attempt on her life, and we stopped it. I consider that a job well done.

  “I guess. I think the Genjix could’ve just waited until after the primaries and saved themselves some bullets.”

  Roen stepped into his apartment, exhausted
from the constant travel. Antonio, as usual, was working the night shift at the hospital and wouldn’t be home until tomorrow morning. It was too bad. The two hadn’t spent much time together recently and Roen missed him. Roen turned on the television and surfed through the channels, pausing on CNN and ESPN. It was the usual news: the Bears weren’t going into the playoffs, the Bulls’ offseason was terrible, and there was an SEC investigation at two firms for securities fraud.

  He tuned out the rambling commentary as he logged onto his network system and perused through Prophus news. He didn’t anticipate another job for at least a week or two. Still, he diligently checked his messages and was about to log off when a new message popped up. Roen sighed and opened it, skimming over the background and going straight for his actionable items and timelines. He had thought he’d have a few days of rest at least.

  Roen leaned back onto the couch and picked up his cat. The poor creature had been feeling neglected for months now and hissed as he tried to escape. He held on to the tabby as he squirmed and dug his claws into his arm. “Now, now, pussycat,” he murmured.

  Have you decided on giving him a real name yet?

  “Nah... Meow Meow’s a fine name.”

  No, it is not. That is like calling a dog Bark Bark.

  “Actually, it would be more like Woof Woof, but I think Meow Meow sounds cuter.”

  Your naming habits will get your kids beat up in the schoolyard.

  “Well, Roen’s a pretty good name then. I got beat up quite a bit in grade school. In fact, I think I will go Freudian and blame my problems on my childhood. Was Freud a Quasing?”

  No, just a con man. You should get some sleep. The briefing for the mission is tomorrow morning at the safe house.

  Roen frowned as he finished reading the email, dropping Meow Meow unceremoniously off his lap. This seemed to be a more complicated mission, not like the typical low-level work he’d been doing the past year. He must be moving on up the ranks. He shrugged, went to the bathroom and stared at the mirror. His once chubby face had been replaced with a gaunt one, with dark bags under the eyes, and sunken cheeks. His hair had been cropped short months ago to keep it out of his eyes. Roen was unshaven, but not in the 5 o’clock-sexy way. He barely recognized himself. “What happened to me?” he muttered. “I don’t look so good. I go from cute and fat to ugly and skinny. Why can’t I just have the best of both worlds?”