Jade Prophet

by Sam Abraham

  The captive warrior led them into a broad compound with the roar of distant hydraulics. Soon they came to a junction, and the warrior told them that the professor was around the corner. Ginger peaked around to see four Jade warriors armed with lances and pulsers.

  “Follow me,” Ginger whispered to the warrior they had captured. Then he walked out into the hall, the warrior and Zoe following close behind. When they stood in front of the four guards, Ginger kept his eyes down and said, “Prisoner transfer. The traitor is to be moved for execution.”

  Two of the guards looked at each other. One said, “Orders?”

  Ginger produced an envelope with a green wax seal. One of the guards took the envelope and opened it, finding it empty.

  “Is this a joke?” the guard asked. Ginger lifted his head, revealing his shining eyes. “Throw them in the cage next to the church woman from Wuhu,” the guard barked.

  Jade regulars pushed Ginger and Zoe towards a row of cells. As they marched, Zoe looked through the tiny windows in the metal doors. In one she saw a woman, her face pressed to the glass, looking back. Zoe met her eyes, wondering who she was.

  Then Zoe felt the man at her back release his grip. She turned and watched him scratch maddeningly at his neck and hands. The other guards did the same. Blood began seeping from their hands and necks and faces and they fell to the floor, screaming and writhing in agony.

  Ginger kicked one of the screaming soldiers onto his back and took his keys, pacing the row of cells until he found what he was looking for. He opened a cell door, and Zoe followed him in. There was her teacher, his body emaciated, his arms and legs barely skin on bones. Purple scars and welts crisscrossed his chest and belly. Yang could barely lift his head.

  “Oh my god,” Zoe said. “Professor, what happened?”

  Ginger produced another of the small beads, lengthened it into a necklace and put it on the professor. It was easy to clasp the chain around Yang’s thin neck. “Help me get him up,” Ginger said, and they propped the professor up against the wall. Zoe held him as Ginger slipped out into the hall.

  “You shouldn’t have come back,” Yang said quietly.

  “We’re getting you out of here,” she said. “How long have you been like this?”

  “Six weeks ago,” Yang said, “Sun and his men murdered everyone Shen put in command. He imprisoned that woman, Anmei from Wuhu, and means to make an example of me.”

  The man with shining eyes returned with white robes. It was easy to get Yang’s arms through. “The clothes are too big on him,” Zoe said, trying not to cry at the sight of her teacher.

  “He won’t need them for long,” Ginger said, taking a pill from a bottle in his pocket. “Take this, Professor. You need some strength.”

  Yang held the pill in his hand, examining it weakly. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

  “An agent of your banker. I’ve come with a counteroffer to your current deal. You should be working for someone who appreciates your brilliance.”

  “And who would that be?” Yang said.

  “The Tiger of Shanghai. He will pay you eight times whatever Lao has offered you.”

  “Gangsters,” Zoe said. “Don’t listen to him, Professor.”

  “Better than the murdering lunatics who have thrown you in prison,” Ginger said.

  “How do you know so much?” Yang’s quivering voice came again.

  “They make it their business,” Zoe said snidely, sneering at the cyborg.

  Yang seemed about to say something, but instead he swallowed the pill and felt the pain subside. His head grew light and his malnourished body jazzed into overdrive.

  “Good,” Ginger said. “Let’s make sure you miss your appointment.” He led them back into the hall. The warriors lay silently, their blood pooling on the floor.

  “What happened to them?” Zoe said.

  “Nanomites,” Ginger said. “In the envelope I gave them. The necklaces send out a signal repelling them.” In his vision, a glowing blue sheen covered the walls and ceiling.

  As they walked from the prison they passed the cell holding Jia Anmei. “Shouldn’t we free her?” Zoe said, pointing at the cell, where Anmei’s face was at the glass, her eyes pleading.

  Ginger shook his head. “She’s safer in there. By now the mites are all over this hallway. They’ll eat any nitrogen source they can get their jaws on, including human flesh. My job is to get you out of here, and the Tiger will be displeased if I do not follow orders.”

  With that, he wrapped Yang’s arm around his sturdy back and pulled the scrawny Professor down the hall. Zoe forced herself not to look back at the woman who remained caged. They dragged Yang outside, past the fire pits where soldiers tattooed new pilgrims, past charred shells of burnt cars. As they neared the wall, Zoe saw wooden posts adorned with balls of red paint. In the firelight, she realized that the wooden posts were spikes, the red balls human heads.

  Suddenly an alarm sounded. Zoe’s heart jumped as she heard shouts and turned to see Jade warriors running towards them. But the warriors passed them, heading instead for the concrete gate, where they waited. Ginger sturdied the professor and tried to blend in, shining eyes and all, with the hundreds of Jade gathering at the cement slab. Fortunately, the warriors were focused elsewhere.

  “They say it’s Lady Li,” a grunt nearby said in a quiet voice. “She’s come home.”

  Zoe looked at Ginger, who pulled from his sleeve a metal ball no bigger than a coin. He ran a finger over the surface, and dropped it to the ground. The ball sliced in half and tiny rotors lifted the drone into the air, where it disappeared into the sky. Ginger’s eyes began flickering.

  “You are a man of fascinating toys,” Yang said, knowing the drone was showing Ginger the other side of the concrete gate. “What’s happening out there?”

  “It’s her,” Ginger hissed. “Stay quiet.”

  A holo opened in Ginger’s vision, showing him a lithe young woman in a white jumpsuit. Around her were thousands of pilgrims in rags, their dirty hands touching her as she flowed through the crowd.

  There it is, Da Jie, came the noise in Ginger’s holobeads, the voices of a thousand pilgrims. The gate cannot be moved. The man who ran the factory, the traitor, is behind it, in the palace of Lord Sun.

  Through his holo, Ginger watched the girl in white walk up to the concrete slab. The air around her body began to wave, as if pulsed by heat. Bringing her hands to her chest, she blurred forward and sent a deep crash of thunder booming across the valley. When the dust had cleared, the girl’s arms were two feet deep in concrete.

  She had broken stone.

  A rumbling creak echoed as fissures ran through the slab, slicing up the center. Cracks bloomed out from the tear, and chunks of concrete fell to the ground. Her muscles bulged as she gripped the stone from the inside, her fingertips grinding in to find purchase. And with one final heave, she tore a boulder from the center of the slab and flung it to the ground with a resounding thud.

  For an instant all were speechless. Then the praying resumed, chanting filling the air with songs of miracles. Slowly, the pilgrims ventured closer to the broken stone door. It took twenty men, but they forced the ragged halves of the stone gate inward, and flooded into Lord Sun’s compound as lines of warriors spilled out to meet them. No one noticed those who left the camp for the hills, so stunned was everyone at the return of Chang’e.

  “Children of Jade,” yelled the woman in white, remembering the message she had been ordered to deliver. “I have come back to you. This is my city, and the only law is my law.”

  And then something struck the girl as curious. An ever-larger circle was growing around her, a great snaking throng of believers. People sang hymns and danced, and waves of pilgrims celebrated the return of their prophet. Youths set flowers at her feet, and the elderly approached with sticks of incense and bowed their heads, venerating gods old and new.

  A man in rags approached the girl and said, “Lady, I have tried to teach those who wou
ld listen about your miracles. Command us and we will obey.” Others picked up the refrain. “Command us and we will obey!” they chanted, over and over.

  Something in the girl clicked. Remembering her training, she said, “Bring me Dr. Yang.”

  Chapter 37 - Jia Ren (家人)

  Woman And Child Dally And Laugh

  “What do you mean he’s not there?” Lao’s holo shouted. “Where in seven hells is he?”

  “How should I know?” Baiyue complained. She sat in the professor’s office in the longshui factory, which had once held stolen treasure from across the Ghost Lands. Now the tapestries were stained and the porcelain lay shattered, broken by the bandit Sun before he had abandoned it. She had entered the tent city, worshiped by hundreds of strange people. Following her programming, she went to the factory and located Yang’s office, where he was supposed to be. But he was nowhere to be found. She had thought everything would be easy, according to her perfect father’s plan. Now she squirmed. “This is a dirty place,” she said. “When can I come home?”

  “Shut up and let me think,” the hologram said. “Cell Line Three, go to Shanghai and bring me Eli Warner. There must be records of his location somewhere in Yang’s factory.”

  “I thought I was called Baiyue?” the girl said.

  “Yes, yes. Meimei,” it said, emphasizing the endearment for ‘youngest daughter’ with only a shard of sarcasm, “you must do as I say. If we cannot secure Yang’s code, you will be the last of your line, and we will have no hybrids strong enough to save the Ghost Lands.” The translucent face expanded. “You will find Yang or you will be disgraced, just like your mother.” And the holo evaporated.

  Baiyue sulked as she explored the factory, searching for any clues as to where this Eli Warner might be. Soon she came across a hall of locked cells. She went from door to door, peering through the windows. In the last cell, Baiyue found a woman. The woman’s eyes went wide, and she began yelling. It took Baiyue a moment to realize that she was saying the same word over and over. Yang. Yang. Yang.

  Baiyue pulled on the door, finding it locked. In a rage, she ripped the door from its hinges.

  Jia Anmei emerged from her prison and considered the girl who had helped her. “Thank you, Lady Li,” she said. “Wuhu is in your debt. I can see why many swear you come from beyond this world.”

  “Yes,” Baiyue said. She knew that she was the mirror image of her mother, and that her father would want her to keep up the ruse. “I am the Lady in the Moon. Who are you?”

  Anmei was about to speak, but pain shot across her belly. She grabbed at her side, wincing. Instinctively, Baiyue caught the woman, held her up. “You’re hurt,” Baiyue said.

  Anmei smiled wanly. “It is just hunger. A cup of tea and some rice would clear things right up,” she said, attempting levity. She winced again. “And maybe a soft place to sit.”

  Twenty minutes later, Anmei was sipping tea in the professor’s office. The girl in white sat in the professor’s chair, spinning as if she were a GPS that had lost its satellite connection.

  “Thank you for the tea,” Anmei said, “and for the hospitality. Your Captain, the one called Shen, did he return with you?”

  “Who?” the girl said guilelessly. “How did you end up in a Jade dungeon, anyway?”

  Anmei could not keep her eyebrows from arching. “I did nothing. Sun is a madman. Now that Yang is gone, this place is done for.” Anmei could tell the girl was trying to decide whether to trust her. “You were looking for Yang, were you not?”

  “Yes,” Baiyue said.

  Anmei smiled and slid the trap into place. “We should tell Captain Shen that his brother-in-law, Dr. Yang, is gone and that we should all go find him together,” Anmei said.

  “I didn’t know Yang was married,” the girl said, wondering why her father omitted that detail. “So, you think he’ll want to see my Captain, uh, what did you say his name was again? Shun?”

  Watching the girl squirm, the minister said, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I properly introduced myself. I’m Jia Anmei, a volunteer for the Three Self Church in Wuhu. What is your name?”

  “The Lady in the Moon?” said the girl across from her. “Oh, ah, I – I’m Li Aizhu.”

  Anmei smiled broadly. “That’s sweet. But you are not Li Aizhu. And yet you look exactly like her. A moment ago I would have said you were unparalleled. And now there are two. Fascinating. Shall we try again? What is your name?”

  “How do you know?” the girl said, suddenly defensive. “I could be Li Aizhu.”

  “Aizhu would know that Dr. Yang is not the brother-in-law of Shen Lingrui. Girl, you are trying my patience. If you tell me the truth, perhaps I can help you find Yang.”

  Baiyue pouted. “I don’t need to find Yang. Not anymore.” But she considered Lao’s recent orders, and in the next moment said, “Do you know where Eli Warner is?”

  “Eli Warner?” Anmei exclaimed in honest surprise. “Of ORS incorporated? I know his name from the Macao accounts.” And suddenly she saw her own fate in the girl, that both of them were lost in a game. “Whoever you are,” Anmei said, “I am not the only one who will confuse you with Li Aizhu, eh? Well, each woman must find her own path. At least you have a choice in that. What should I call you? Do you really want to be Li Aizhu?”

  Anmei’s smile was so disarming that Baiyue felt a peace that she had never felt with her father. The girl smiled at the idea of choice. “No,” she decided, “My name is Baiyue.”

  “Baiyue,” Anmei said. “May all parents be so lucky as to have a daughter so graceful.” She sipped her tea again and looked down on the courtyard below. Hundreds of men and women wearing white were dancing and praising the return of Chang’e. Braziers glowing with coals were brought to warm the evening. Shadows flickered across gifts that had been brought by the poor, silk and incense and the skulls of horses.

  “Well,” Anmei said finally, “I have taken up quite enough of your time. Did you still want me to help you locate Mr. Warner? Is he supposed to be near here?”

  “Shanghai,” Baiyue said, and for all the talk of choice she still itched to obey her programming. “I need to go there to look for him. It is a big city, and Lao-Ba is impatient with me already.”

  “I could learn where Warner was from the professor’s notes, if you can help me access them. It is your choice, of course.”

  Baiyue paused, unsure, for Anmei's promise of choice was as unfamiliar as childhood. When Baiyue nodded in spite of herself, Anmei smiled and said, “Come with me.”

  They slipped deeper into the factory. The lights were dark, the giant steel tanks of longshui no longer bubbling. Anmei found the security door, and stepped aside as Baiyue peeled back the steel. Beyond was the core, still as stone, its mechanical arms frozen in the circuit walls. Soon Anmei found the controls, her fingers dancing like a concert pianist’s. She called up a holo and scanned through logs until she found a folder called Project Longshui.

  Baiyue watched as Anmei pulled up a holo of a spidery capsule. As it floated before them, characters beside it described it as some kind of virus.

  “What is that?” Anmei wondered, as she downloaded every bit of data. “Ah, but we were locating a man for you,” she said, searching the professor’s files. There was nothing on Eli Warner, but she did find a holo of a woman named Zoe Chou, looking studious in glasses. And there was an address, in the Shanghai Pudong Innovation District.

  “You say Eli Warner is in Shanghai?” Anmei said to the girl in white. “If I tell you where to find him, will you take me to Nanjing on your way? I have some business with the man who imprisoned me.”

  Chapter 38 - Kui (睽)

  A Wagon Full Of Demons

  This is the story of how Xie came to see.

  It was quiet in the City of Heaven on Earth after the Lady in the Moon left. The empty fullness of a cleansing fast was felt among any who had taken Communion. But with Li gone, many felt as if the heart of the Jade had disappeared.

 
Xie dealt with the Lady’s absence in the only way he knew. He prayed. Early each day, at first light, he would go to the great square, ascend the wooden dais, and sit, and breathe.

  Just as Li had taught, he listened to the breath of God enter him with each inhale, and his spirit leave with each exhale. He contemplated the light he had seen during Communion, and struggled with the idea that the ritual might be nothing more than a famine vaccine. He listened for the messiah inside, though it was elusive.

  And though he felt that he was not wise, many Jade pilgrims knew that he was the consort of the Lady in the Moon, and joined him. Soon, thousands who had journeyed to the City of Heaven on Earth sat with Xie and felt the breath of God.

  So it was that Xie found himself, day after day, opening his eyes to a tribe of souls looking within for salvation. Warriors in white sat calmly, cross-legged in meditation, dotting the rolling hills like pearls. They were a nation of pure beings, transformed beyond the base hunger of animals, reflecting on the holiness of the world. And to his surprise, Xie found himself wondering whether Li’s promise of paradise was within their reach. All they needed was more longshui, and they would spread peace across the Ghost Lands.

  But new pilgrims came as well, many who had never received the Communion of Chang’e. Those who had only recently joined the host watched the Jade wearing white meditate in peace, and wondered what it would be like when they took their first sacrament. For it appeared to them that receiving Communion, tasting of the body of the Lady in the Moon, was the most wonderful bliss imaginable.

  One day, as dark clouds opened in rain, Xie saw an old man with a cane hobble over to him through the rows of meditating Jade. The man stood before him, shaking, as many pilgrims rose to take shelter. “How are you, Uncle?” Xie said, using a term of respect.

  “In pain, my lord,” the man said. “I came from Xi’an because I heard that if I accepted the girl Li as Chang’e reborn, I could eat of the body of God, and be healed. When can I receive this boon?”