by Sam Abraham
As time inched by, the metal box seemed to crush him. It was almost too much, and Han wanted to scream and beg to be let out. But a Jade sister saw his discomfort, and took his hand, and he took the hand of the man next to him, until all the pilgrims were connected. They took turns reciting in whispers the stories Captain Xie had once taught them.
In time, the leaves of the inner gate parted, letting the tanker barge into the City. Eight barges in all did they fill that night, releasing them into the shipping lanes passing through the locks of the seawall.
So it was that the barges floated up the Taipu River until the estuary grew and became the Huangpu River, that great waterway bisecting Shanghai. As they slid silently towards downtown, Han caught glimpses of the island city, where neon geodesic domes rose over clusters of occuhives. He watched in disbelief as they drifted under exquisite bridges, and the neon grew brighter towards the Bund, and the glass towers of Lujiazui rose up into the sky. And he mused that of the many thoughts he’d had in the past year of returning to the city of his birth, none included sneaking in as a thief.
Drones far above spied every barge, small and large, but there were hundreds and nothing seemed out of place. Under cover of dark, the barges carrying the Jade docked near the city center, just north of Waitan and the Bund. It was New Year’s Eve. Across the city, as drunks counted down in Champagne hazes and December became January, Han watched as waves of Jade emerged onto the land around him. They splintered into groups of eight, leaking along the dark streets, vagrants beneath the notice of anyone who cared to see them.
Following landmarks as he had been instructed, Han soon found the old brick archway. Hidden from the street, the burgundy church rose before him from a courtyard filled with bicycles. He had lived in the city for almost twenty years, and he had never known of this place until tonight.
St. Theresa’s was an old red-brick building, with a glass rose above its double door. A simple white cross stood atop the sloped roof, between two turrets with tall windows. It was a beautiful structure, its holiness exuded through its simplicity, built almost two centuries earlier. Those had been turbulent times in Shanghai, with ten thousand philosophies blooming and just as many alleyways hiding mobsters, junkies, revolutionaries. As days became decades of history, the simple gray hutong around it were razed and tenements erected, later replaced by geodesic occuhives. Domes came to rise over the hives, to protect the air of those within. But no matter how the urban jungle canopied it, the brick church sat quietly in the shadow of progress, welcoming all.
Han and his Jade brothers and sisters stopped in front of hastily hung banners declaring the church closed for construction. The silence of the courtyard was broken only by the distant sound of fireworks. A man came to them, dressed in white coveralls.
“Are you lost?” the man whispered, “Surely you can see that the House of God is not open.”
Han recognized the greeting. “Surely the House of God is always open to the Children of Jade,” he replied, and pulled back his smock to reveal the tattoos on his shoulders. The brothers and sisters did the same, and the man nodded, beckoning them into the church.
As Han entered the nave, he saw a crowd of Jade already packed in the pews, milling under the plaster archways. He caught a glimpse of two priests bound in plastic, kneeling at the altar. “What happened to them?” he asked a fellow brother. He realized that he had met the man before, on the outskirts of Tongling, but was embarrassed to admit that he could not remember the man’s name. Yet embarrassment was the least of Han’s worries. The entire gathering seemed tense, like a coiled snake, the chatter amongst the Jade primed for violence. It all felt very wrong to Han, food for the ghoul of doubt in his belly.
“The Lady in the Moon, brother,” the man said. “I heard she compelled the caretakers to surrender to the Second Coming with a single word. Occuhives across the city have been bribed to ensure we all have a safe place to await our commands.”
Han was about to ask the man if her knew who had crafted such an elaborate plan when he saw Captain Xie enter the chapel. The One-Eyed Captain smiled at Han and others in the pews as he walked to the altar, where he crossed himself, and bowed to a woman in a white veil and gown who had emerged from the sacristy. She removed her mask, revealing the scars stretching across her face.
Han heard many of the Jade moan at the sacrifice she had endured to bring wisdom from Heaven. And he watched hundreds of his brothers and sisters hang upon on her words when she closed her eyes and led the congregation in prayer for all the lost souls they would save.
Chapter 51 – Zhen (震)
Climb The Nine Hills
Each day when Shen woke on his cot behind the sacristy of St. Theresa’s, he felt the pressure build in the air. Each day he helped Li write her sermons, watched Xie coordinate Jade sleeper cells, and waited for word from the ghost of Lao Jinglai. Each day, before mass, Li asked if they knew when she would meet her daughter, and each day, Shen shook his head and watched her withdraw into silence.
When word of the meet finally came, it was to be three days before the Spring Festival, under the towers of Lujiazui, in a very public place. Too public, Shen decided, for vagrants in white rags to guard him without tipping their hand.
And so, when Shen arrived at the Shanghai Aquarium at the arranged date and time to meet Li’s daughter, his nerves were on edge. Behind glass, spotted whale sharks drifted placidly between tropical fish, sea turtles and well-fed great whites. Shen wondered at the metaphor. The hall was packed with tourists gawking at exotic fish suspended in water, even as the land supporting this fishbowl was suspended in the sea. He scanned the crowd, ignoring his suspicions. Soon he was rewarded as a familiar face approached.
“You Shen?” said a slender teenager in pleather overalls.
Shen peered at the girl in the dim light. She was the spitting image of his student. “Baiyue?”
“Where’s Li?” the girl asked. “I was told she would be here.”
“She’s here,” Shen said. “She’s just waiting for me to give the ok. Will you walk with me?”
Baiyue looked around the aquarium hall and shrugged reluctantly.
Shen led her through an underwater tunnel, beneath schools of grouper and batfish. Wavering light from the tanks washed over them. “I’m sure you’re aware of the danger Lao is putting you in,” he said quietly. “Your mother and I can keep you safe. She just wants to see you happy, you know.”
Baiyue pouted. “I heard she tore up my father’s lab. He’s furious with her. Is that why she sent an old man instead of seeing me herself?”
Shen leaned in. “You know he’s not really your father,” he said, “so why are you following his orders? Name a place you’d like to go. Cape Town? Paris? Your mother and I want you to come with us. Imagine nothing outside your grasp. No drones watching everything you do. You could be free to choose your own future.”
Baiyue sent him an annoyed glance. “I’ve already got my own life, so don’t worry so much,” she said, as they ascended an escalator into the gift shop. Baiyue looked around and cocked her head, as if listening to something in her ear. Then she looked at Shen with contempt. “She’s not coming, is she?”
“Trust me—“
“Don’t come near me again, old man,” Baiyue said, and hurried out of the hall, pushing her way through the crowd.
He tried to follow her, but his way was blocked by four men in black shirts and sunglasses. Shen kept his cool as they surrounded him. “Get out of my way,” he said.
“Lao Jinglai has a gift for you,” the one behind Shen said.
Shen felt something cold at his back and knew his gambit had failed. He huffed theatrically and said, “It seems that Lao has lost the art of subtlety in his old age.”
The man pushed him and said, “We walk as we talk.” And Shen, seeing no other choice, went with them into the park surrounding the aquarium. On the path, one of the men behind him said, “Li Aizhu was supposed to be here, and Lao wants a
word. Where is she?”
“Like I told the girl,” Shen said. “Let me go and I’ll tell her to come out of hiding.” He saw one of the men put a hand to his ear. “Getting orders? Tell Lao that I walk away right now, or you’ll never find Li. Or better yet, let me speak to him, and I’ll tell him my--”
Shen doubled over in pain, pressing his hands to his chest where blood was caking on his shirt. He turned to see the men behind him fire silenced pistols. His body danced as it filled with holes. Then the old Centrist dropped to the ground with his eyes still open, his life bleeding into the earth without another word.
***
Baiyue booted up her holobeads and pinged the only number she ever dialed. Lao was already furious. “Unbelievable!” the voice yelled into her ears. She turned the volume down until her father was a tiny whine. “Wasting our time, trying to trick me! We cleaned up that loose end, didn’t we?”
“Yes, father,” she said. “Can I get on with the job?”
“Of course,” Lao said. “I will contact Dr. Yang’s partner at ORS. Protocol will be transferred while you’re on route. And Meimei?”
“Yeah?” Baiyue said.
“Don’t fail me again,” the voice said, and hung up.
“Whatever,” she said.
***
Baiyue was in the metro, heading east, when she felt something brush her back. She turned and saw a woman who was her mirror image, except for the scars curling up her neck and face. The disfigured woman smiled at Baiyue as the train slowed. When the doors slid open, her damaged elder beckoned as she left the subway car.
Baiyue could barely believe it. Her father would be furious, as he was no doubt tracking her location, but she pushed her way out of the escaping train anyway. She chased her doppleganger down the holo halls of the rendidao, and out under a dome barely visible against the overcast sky. Baiyue saw the woman look back at her as she entered Century Park through the rings of a rose garden. Soon they stood face to face as warped reflections.
“Mother?” Baiyue said, “Our father is looking for you. You look terrible, by the way.”
Li contemplated her daughter. Bai’s heart-shaped face and slender neck were a purer, more perfect print of herself. “I’m glad we got a chance to talk,” Li said. “I’ve been dreaming of you.”
“I only have a few minutes,” Baiyue said with distaste, looking away from her mother’s burnt skin.
“I thought you would be happy to see me,” Li said, her voice shaking. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you. But now we are together. We can be a family.”
Baiyue wanted to listen. But all she could think to say was, “Father says you were a mistake.”
“You must stop this nonsense with Lao at once,” Li said, “He’s dangerous. He is the one who did this to my face. Come with me and Uncle Shen before he hurts you too.”
“Go with Shen?” Baiyue scoffed. “I can’t believe you rejected Father for that creep. I have to say, Mama, I am quite disappointed in your taste in men.”
Li swallowed her anger, forcing herself not to lash out. “Do not speak about Shen Laoshi like that. He is a great teacher. He will make sure we have a home where we can be free.”
“Doubtful. Father says Shen’s headed to the morgue.”
Li grew pale. “You wouldn’t.”
Baiyue laughed. “It’s already done. I’m not like you, raised as a human. I cherish Father’s love.”
“How could you do that to Shen Laoshi?” Li snapped, in disbelief that her teacher could be gone. It’s not her fault, Li thought, grasping at what a good mother might do. She’s been a slave. “Lao is not our father. We’re nothing but disposable toys to him. Now,” she said, shaking her head grimly, “we only have each other.”
Baiyue made a bitter face. “What do you have, aside from shame? You and your dead teacher are criminals.” She decided that she felt disgusted. “You are a traitor, just like Dr. Yang. Father says that because of you, Yang is working for the Mayor of Shanghai now. He says I alone can restore our family’s honor.”
Li wondered how many women had been so rotten to their own mothers. “Baiyue,” Li said bitterly, knowing that her daughter would have to be taught by force, “I promise that I know what’s best.” The words felt strange, as if uttered by a different person. “You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not.”
Li reached for Baiyue again, but her daughter was faster, swatting her mother’s hand away. “Don’t touch me!” Baiyue said, her eyes fierce. “You know I’m stronger than you, don’t you? Your cells are already starting to fail.”
Li’s disbelief turned to rage. “Baiyue, if you do not come with me, you will meet the same fate as your grandmother. Dr. Yang has programmed us to die young. I am going to force him to extend my lifespan. Come with me I will do the same for you.”
Her eyes sparked as she lunged at her daughter.
But Baiyue blurred to the side and slapped Li’s face hard, sending her mother sprawling into the dirt. Li groaned, holding her head. No one had been able to lay a hand on her in quite some time.
“Enough of your lies,” Baiyue hissed. “If you want to help me, keep the police busy,” she said, and walked away through the trees.
Fighting back tears, Li felt failure in her bones. Throughout the entire metro ride to Puxi, she saw only black. Other passengers recoiled from her, looking with derision at her ragged pants, disheveled hair and scars. She had not felt this much shame since the day she lost her mother’s holobeads, long ago in another life.
Her mood was dark when she reached St. Theresa’s, slipping through the brick archway into the courtyard. The crowd inside recognized her and began bowing. She pushed past them and entered the occuhive that straddled the church. But as she waited for the lift, the crowd gathered around her, asking for her blessing with dirty hands, begging to receive her Communion. She felt as if she was drowning in their pleas and fled, running up seventeen flights of stairs to a flat that had been set up as a command post. She burst inside to find warriors laughing as Captain Xie told them battle stories.
Li sent everyone in the room an acid look and all of them left, except her lover. When she was alone with Xie, the ferocity melted from her face. She sank into a chair and put her head in her hands.
“Do you know what she did?” Li said, tears welling in her eyes. “My own daughter. She murdered him. Shen Laoshi is…”
“Shen is dead?” Xie said. Elated, the One-Eyed Captain went to Li and took her hands in his. “He died righteously in your service. Surely he has ascended to Heaven.”
Li’s eyes were red, her mouth set in a pathetic frown, as she replied, “I can’t play this game right now.”
“Game?” Xie hissed, shocked that she could be so cavalier. He was tired of her moods, and had to admit that he was starting to doubt whether God truly inhabited her body. “As the Gospel says, ‘Children will rise up against their parents and cause them to be put to death.’ How can you, who drowned the evil city of Anqing, call the wickedness of the world a simple game?”
“It’s always been a game,” Li spat. “That flood was nothing but a—“ But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that the Holy Lake had been nothing but a parlor trick. She turned away from him and went to the window, reeling that her teacher was gone forever. That her daughter had turned away from her. “Yang has gone to work for the Tiger of Shanghai,” Li said, forcing calm into her voice. “Please,” she said, turning to Xie, “help me get my daughter back. You are the only one I have left.”
“You do not have me,” Xie said, more than merely unamused by her machinations. He regretted his love for her, and knew that she would never save him. “After all I did to defend you to Jia Anmei,” he said, shaking his head, “to keep the Jade strong while you were gone, it turns out that you are just another false idol. All you care about is a girl who hates her own mother, your daughter from another man.” Xie saw her start to speak and shouted, “Don’t expect me to believe that she is immacu
late! I accepted you as my savior, and now look at you. How human you’ve become. Perhaps, as you have told us all along, the Jade should rely on our own miracles.”
“Please,” Li begged, “My daughter will die if we don’t help her.”
“What about my wife and son?” Xie asked regretfully. “How many others like them have died because we kept your miracle a secret? I buried my revenge for you, to help you create a better world. You promised us Heaven on earth! Now I see that all your promises were lies, like how the wealthy deceive the poor. Be honest, is there any more longshui?”
Li shook her head with a sour frown. “No, only the last remnants you took from Shen. I am sorry about your family, Xie, but the world is hard enough. Don’t make it worse by turning your back on me.”
“The world is not hard,” Xie said, shaking his head. “It is wicked. There is enough food in this city to feed every starving farmer in the Ghost Lands. You probably don’t remember that when we first met, Shen told us that the cause of my suffering was not a few men, but the way of our world. Those were the only true words I ever heard him speak. If you do not find such imbalance unpalatably evil, so vile that you cannot feel the breath of God in its presence, then you are as wicked as this city.”
Li seethed at his zeal. “The Jade will come to my aid,” she said, “with or without you.”
Now Xie laughed cruelly, and as Li heard him she knew that she had no friends among her own people. They were cattle to her, the means to an end. As if reading her mind, Xie said, “Can you name a single pilgrim? Do you know their families? The villages they abandoned for you? I know them. I was their rock when you left. After all of your sermons about choice, so many of them just want to be told what to do, to be saved. Well, I know how to save them. Perhaps I should tell them the truth, that you are a demon who has poisoned them all. Even your powers cannot defeat thousands.”