Authors: Wesley Chu
“You got it.”
He closed the door.
A man of few words, but he gets to the point.
“I do hit him there quite a bit. I just can't reach anywhere else that hurts him.”
Ella spent another fifteen minutes in front of the mirror trying unsuccessfully to look a little less of a disaster. She didn't have any makeup to cover up the bruises. She wouldn't have known how to apply it anyway.
She left the locker room and walked into the mallakhamba class already in session, feeling very self-conscious. She kept her hair covering her face and her eyes glued to the ground. Manish, threading through the class, gave her a small pat on the back as she passed.
Aarav was waiting for her outside the gym. He looked at her face, puzzled. “What were you doing in there for so long? You look the same.”
“None of your damn business,” Ella snapped. Then she remembered she had promised to be nicer to him. “I mean, thanks for the ice. It helped the swelling.”
“Not really. You still look pretty awful.” Aarav grabbed a set of car keys from the table. “Come on, let's go.”
By the time I ventured out into the terrifying world, tens of millions of years had already passed. The Quasing had scattered all over the planet and, unknown to me, many of them had rediscovered each other and had formed a kingdom of sorts in Africa among the primate tribes. Searchers were sent out to find other Quasing and bring them back into the fold. This was known as the Gathering. I was one of the last found.
A Quasing named Khat, who inhabited a Scandinavian hunter, caught my vessel â a minke whale â while hunting. By then, the world had changed. I had somehow slept through the entire birth and adolescence of humanity. In hindsight, it was probably the right call.
Sometimes, I wish I'd slept through all of it.
E
ven though exhausted
and a little beaten up, Ella had trouble sleeping that night. By now, the bruises over her face and body had turned a ripe purple and were shooting pain up and down her nerves whenever she opened her mouth. She was also having some trouble lifting her left arm above her shoulder. She was plain miserable. Somehow, she'd managed to make leaving the house the wrong decision after spending three days not leaving the house.
Ella, I would like to apologize, and declare a truce.
She crossed her arms. “OK, alien, go ahead.”
What?
“You want to apologize, so apologize then.”
I just did.
“No, you didn't. You said you wanted to apologize.”
Fine. I am sorry.
“For what?”
I am sorry for misleading you about a Quasing's ability to take over an unconscious host.
“And trying to cover it up when I caught you?”
Yes, that too. Technically, you did not catch me. I confessed.
“And you'll ask for permission next time you need to do this?”
Absolutely not.
Ella sat up in bed, and immediately regretted making that abrupt movement. “What's the point in apologizing if you're going to keep doing it?
That is just the way it has to be. I have been working tirelessly at night not only on your behalf, but for the Prophus as well. You do not want to be involved in this sort of grunt work.
“Try me.”
Very well.
Io led Ella to the living room and showed her the laptop stashed under a pile of boxes in the corner. She logged in and watched as walls of numbers and letters scrolled across some colorful boxes.
“This is boring,” she muttered after a few minutes.
I told you. Click Alt-tab to the next window. Open up the report from the network regarding the Iranian pipe line.
“How do I do that?”
The alt key.
“Which one is the alt key?”
That button left of the big one on the center bar and then the second down from the far left.
Their process slowed to a crawl, since Io had to tell her where to click and what to type. Soon, another problem became apparent.
Ella, can you read any English at all?
She shook her head. “Some of the words. I know all the letters and numbers. It's putting them together that can get confusing.”
I can switch the computer's language to Hindi if you prefer, but my Hindi reading comprehension is weak.
“I'm not great at that either, at least not anything harder than third grade.”
How could your parents have been so delinquent in your education?
Ella shot back hotly. “Well, Io, we had a stupid war that bombed Singapore into the Stone Age and ravaged all of India. We were kind of too busy avoiding Chinese kill squads and searching for food to worry about reading stupid letters.”
I am sorry. I never bothered to check.
Ella stayed silent, her face burning.
Would you like to learn?
“Learn what?”
I can teach you how to read. You are pretty adept at picking up and speaking languages, seeing how you can speak half a dozen.
“You can help?” she said, in a small voice. She had learned to read English and Mandarin as a child, and some Hindi living on the streets, but it was just enough to survive. She couldn't remember if she had ever cracked a book open before. It had always been a bit of an embarrassment for her.
You have to learn to read sometime. Might as well start here.
For the rest of the night, Io taught Ella English, walking her through the alphabet, punctuation, and keys, all while doing whatever work she was doing for the Prophus. It was at the same time hard and frustrating, yet energizing and hopeful.
To Ella's surprise, a lot of forgotten childhood lessons came flooding back to her. Before she knew it, she had a headache, was sweating, and was thoroughly enjoying herself.
It wasn't until the first rays of light began shining through the dozen small holes poking into the container wall that Ella realized she had stayed up all night. She stood up, stretched, and tilted her stiff neck from side to side, and then stared at the beads hanging in the entranceway to her bedroom rattling against the breeze.
She should sleep, but she was supposed to work out, but she hadn't slept all night, but she was supposed to work out, but her body was still beaten up from getting beaten up. Her tired thoughts ran in circles as she debated whether to get dressed or not.
Go to bed, Ella. Your body needs some time to recuperate anyway. I will send Manish a message once you are asleep letting him know you cannot make it. With your permission, of course.
Ella cracked a small smile. She yawned. “I'm going to sleep until tomorrow.”
Actually, we have a job later this afternoon. The deputy minister of Gujurat is giving a speech about a project. Hamilton is going to record it for Command. I want to make sure he is doing his job. After he makes the recording, I want you to take possession of the video.
Ella perked up. “Are you putting me out in the field? Like, am I going to do real work?”
In a way. This should be a relatively safe way to get your feet wet and give you a taste of what an operative does.
Ella paused. “The speech this minister is giving, does it have anything to do with everything happening in Dumas? Everyone there is supposedly up in arms.”
That is what we are going to find out. Because we lost both the field scout and the recon team, Command is not willing to commit any more resources. I told them you and I will gather this information. The truth is, I believe a native of Crate Town will have a better chance than the outsiders we brought in.
Ella stood a little taller. She felt important. She felt like she was making a difference.
You have not done anything yet.
“Stop ruining my moment.”
All right, but the speech is in six hours. If you want to rest before then, go to bed. I will let Hamilton know to meet here first.
Ella hopped under the sheets, her body tingling with excitement. This whole spy thing was becoming more real every day. For the first time in her life, she dared think about life outside of Crate Town, about possibly being able to do more than just survive. For once, she looked forward to it.
“Hey, Io?”
Yes?
“You have my permission to use my body to do your work, but no funny business, OK?”
Thank you.
“And Io? I also accept your apology.”
Go to sleep, Ella.
H
amilton did not look pleased
when he arrived a few hours later. His entrance was precipitated by Burglar Alarm's barking, followed by his now-familiar polite and rhythmic knocking. She could literally tell it was him by how he banged on her front door. As she had done for the past few years, when Ella was woken by her entire container shaking, the first thing she did was reach for the shank on her nightstand. Then she remembered she had a job to do.
Ella jumped out of bed and gathered her things: her shank, two knives, pepper spray, and her best shoes.
Your job today is to observe the minister, not assassinate him. If things go according to plan, you are going to stand in a crowd, record the video, and then go home.
“What if Hamilton doesn't want to give up the recorder?”
Fine, then you can stab him.
Ella touched the sharp tip of her shank with a finger, and, with a wicked grin, slipped it into its sheath in her back waistband. Her thoughts wandered to Bijan and the recon team again, not to mention Emily. Was this all Hamilton's fault? Was their blood on his hands? She quivered with rage just thinking about it.
Keep it to yourself. We have no proof. Otherwise, if he is guilty, he may decide to just run, and then we will never get justice.
She swung the door open and looked at him coolly. “Stop knocking on my door so hard.”
Hamilton's eyes widened. “What happened to your face?”
“None of your business.”
His reply was just as curt. “I don't see why you need to come, but Io insisted, so let's go. No time to waste.”
Ask him if he has the recorder.
Ella did so. Hamilton took out a pair of sunglasses and put them on. He tapped the side of the frame. “High resolution camera here on the right side. We'll need to be within fifty meters of the speaker to pick up audio.”
She was impressed. “That is so cool. Can I try?”
Hamilton handed them to her, and the sunglasses slipped off her face as soon as she tried them on. She felt the tiny bridge of her nose between her eyes and then grimaced. She handed the glasses back to him. “They need to make these my size.”
“Of course,” he shrugged. “There's also the matter of us standing in the crowd. At your height, we may have some problems getting a good shot. The minister's speech is starting soon. By the way, this job shouldn't be difficult, but in case we run into any problems, I need you to follow my explicit instructions.”
The two walked down the stairs of her cluster and made their way west to Dumas. On the way there, Hamilton bossed her around, telling her how to act, what to do if they got caught, and where to go if they were separated. It was almost as if he thought he was the host or something. The entire way, Ella kept her hand close to her shank.
Sea creatures live pretty basic lives. They spend their days eating, sleeping, breeding, and then dying. Usually by being eaten. But then, is that not how all creatures on this planet live? That was what I thought until I occupied my first human.
Let me be perfectly clear: humans are nowhere as intelligent as Quasing, especially someone as formerly highly-regarded as myself. However, yes, you are all much, much more intelligent than even the smartest fish, and much, much more complicated and harder to influence.
S
hura scanned
the large crowd that had gathered in the field for Surrett's announcement. By now, most of the major businesses and residences in Dumas were gone, but hundreds of transients and beggars remained since they had nowhere else to go. They just ended up squatting in the now-empty containers and looting whatever was left behind. There were still too many for Mogg's people to run off, so she devised a way to flush them out all at once.
All it required was bait. She had the minister announce a major speech today, and with it, as a gesture of goodwill toward the people of Dumas, the government would feed all who attended the rally. Surrett arranged to truck in several tons of food and, after spending the entire morning showing his face and feeding the masses, he was going to give a speech about how this construction site marked a new era for Crate Town. He would tell them how it would bring jobs and economic stimulus and security to all of Gujurat. Some of it would even be true.
While the people were busy stuffing their faces and hearing empty promises, Mogg's people would sweep through Dumas, rounding up stragglers and anyone still left in these mostly-empty streets, and throw them into jail. By the time the rally was complete, the people would discover a new perimeter fence cordoning off the entire neighborhood. Then its demolition could begin.
Except for the center of the neighborhood, she remembered, as her gaze fell on a cluster of people sitting near the back. A squint of her eye and an upturn of her nose was the only thing that betrayed her irritation. One particular man, a spindly shirtless old man who looked to be almost more hair than person, drew her attention. Indu the Jain priest was surrounded by five hundred of his flock. At first, she was surprised that he had chosen to attend this speech, and then, the second he moved his flock up near the front, she knew exactly what he was going to do.
She had spent the past few days watching his building from across the street. Unfortunately, it seemed he rarely ever left his temple. In fact, today was the first time in a week, at least that she knew of, that he had ventured out of his ziggurat.
Shura watched as the minister walked onto the stage. She scanned the crowd of three thousand or so from Crate Town, who were probably here more for the free food than anything else. No matter the reason, the bait seemed to have worked. At the very worst, they should be able to clear enough sorely-needed land to keep them on schedule.
The chatter became louder, and the decibels climbed as Surrett appeared. He waved at the crowd and strode with confidence and purpose to the center of the stage. The temperature of the audience, numbering several thousand, was a mixture of anger and curiosity. Nobody was happy with Mogg's gangs running amok, and nobody wanted to have to sell properties, yet they weren't upset enough not to eat his food.
“Welcome, people of Crate Town, citizens of Gujurat,” Surrett boomed through the loudspeaker. “I hope you have all had your fill of vada and jalebi, quenched your thirst with tasty lassi. First of all, I'd like to thank an honored and elder citizen and philanthropist of Crate Town, Mr Faiz Mustafa, for organizing this event and bringing all of us together, although I have to take some credit for today's success. Originally, he wanted to serve just murukku, but I told him, Mr Faiz, how can we⦔
Shura tuned him out. To be fair, Surrett was pretty good at working the crowds. He was a gifted orator, had a natural presence, and a way of connecting with his audience. Pretty soon, the mood in the crowd changed. He had transformed their simmering anger to chuckles and smiles, and had melted the tension that hung heavy in the air. She could see why the Genjix had chosen him as their politician to prop up in India.
That, and we had a very limited candidate pool.
“You're just being critical, Tabs. It's not his fault our recruiting here is practically nonexistent. That will all change soon. For now, this man is an asset. He's actually not doing too badly. Most of the peasants here are eating up what he has to say.”
“Adonis.” One of her operatives hurried over and bowed. “The Penetra scanner picked up something during a security sweep of the crowd. We triangulated the target at my three o'clock, approximately a hundred and fifty meters.”
She did a quick once-over on the crowd. “The tall white man with the sunglasses?”
“Or within two meters of his immediate proximity. We've verified he's not one of ours.”
The crowd here was at least a quarter non-Indian, which was expected, since the remnants of half a dozen armies now called this area home. Even then, that man stood out. He was easily a head above most others and several shades lighter than those around him. The Prophus must really be hard up on operatives if they had to send someone like him into this region.
Because you blend in so well.
Shura harrumphed. “I'm different. In this situation, I'm supposed to stand out.”
She turned to her operative. “Pick him up. We'll beat the truth out of him, or at the very least eliminate another Prophus.”
“Your will, Adonis.”
Shura stared at the tall white man. The Prophus shouldn't be operating in this region. India was a dead zone, a no man's land in terms of international affairs, and they'd had the entire region cloaked from satellite surveillance ever since the project kicked off. It would take another decade at the very least before the country got back on its feet, so what could they be doing here? Unless, of course, they had somehow gotten wind of the Bio Comm Array. That would be unfortunate, since the project was still so secret and new that a leak this early could be catastrophic.
A commotion erupted among the crowds. And there it was. Twenty minutes into Surrett's speech about the future of Dumas, Crate Town, Surat, Gujurat, and all of India, Indu's entire flock stood up in unison and began a deliberate march toward the back. Never mind that they were taking the long route. No, they parted the crowd to let all of Crate Town know what Indu thought of Surrett and his speech.
Shura glanced at the minister. To his credit, he didn't miss a beat. She could tell the sudden exodus rattled him, just a little, as the pace of his words increased by a tick. It was a very public display and would lay to rest any chance of the two sides reaching middle ground. Not that she was looking for it.
Shura had been trying to find a way to kill the man with an accident for a week now. She was running out of time. If she couldn't figure out a way to do it quietly, she'd have to just do it messily and deal with the fallout.
Find a way. A public execution is not an option. I guarantee you do not want to have to butcher the rest of his flock as well. It will undoubtedly draw the media's attention.
Shura would deal with him later. For now, she had this Prophus agent to contend with. She caught sight of the Genjix team closing in on the tall white man, pushing through the crowd toward him.
Within twenty meters, they dispersed into the crowd. A few seconds later, five spread out to surround him. The Prophus operative stood blissfully unaware, still staring straight at Surrett.
Amita came sprinting up to Shura. “Adonis! Adonis!”
“What is it, girl?”
“You gave orders to pick someone up in the crowd. You have to call them off. Please, Adonis!” She was stuttering so hard the words barely came out.
“Why? It's a Prophus spy. That's what we do when we find one. We pick them up, we pry off their fingernails for information, and then we cut off their heads. And if we're lucky, we take a flamethrower and fry the Holy One when he tries to escape.”
“Not that one, Adonis.” The words began to tumble quickly out of Amita's mouth, things that were likely classified that no one should know about. Shura's hands curled into claws in frustration even as she sensed an opportunity.
This is an interesting development.
“I can't believe that idiot Surrett didn't tell me about this earlier.”
We never asked, and he is a Genjix agent with his own standing to consider. Would you if you were in his shoes? Regardless, it does not matter. We know now.
“I guess not.”
We can take advantage of this new resource. In fact, it complements our plans rather well.
Shura pulled up the comm and reached the Genjix lead when he was less than five meters from their mark. “Stand down.”
“Adonis?”
“Stand down. Leave one to tail.”
The five operatives that were seconds away from apprehending the spy melted into the crowd immediately. Fortunately, the spy seemed none the wiser.
“Not a very observant man, is he? What is he doing here at the rally?”
Only one way to find out for sure.
Shura turned to Amita. “Tell your minister I want to see him right after this event. He has a lot of explaining to do.”
S
urrett came
by her suite at the hotel later that evening. He must have come directly from the rally. He had the look of a man who had stood outside in the hot, humid day, and he smelled that way as well. His usually perfectly-pressed suit was a mess of wrinkles and stains. A day mingling with people living in slums would do that to a person. Shura watched in disapproval as he tracked faint prints of mud onto her carpet.
“Adonis, you summoned.” He bowed and moved to sit in the chair opposite her.
“Stay standing.” Shura looked down at Surrett Kapoor's bio on her tablet. “I've looked into you. You've been busy. You've risen from a low-ranked operative with little standing to a favored in this region. Rurik didn't even know you existed a year ago, and now the Genjix are pushing you as the next candidate for prime minister.”
“Praise to the Holy Ones,” he bowed.
“Your rise is primarily due to you uncovering several Prophus operations in this region: the listening post in Nepal, the research facility near Kyoto, the Abelard Program, and the location of over a dozen safe houses in the north Thailand DMZ. Impressive. You state in your report you unearthed these Prophus operations by” â she traced the exact wording with her fingers on the tablet â “leading your handpicked expert team of investigators and counterintelligence agents.”
“I am but a humble servant,” Surrett bowed, a little higher this time. “Adonis, the informationâ”
Shura leaned forward. “Tell me, is your team still around? I'd love to meet them.”
He stiffened. “Unfortunately, they've disbanded. They're needed elsewhere. It's unrealistic for me to consolidate so much talent in one place when they could do so much goodâ”
Shura held up a hand. “Speak truthfully, Minister. I know you're handling a Prophus double agent. Is he your âhandpicked expert team of investigators and counterintelligence agents'? Is this how you've uncovered all those operations? Are you being fed intel by a Prophus traitor?”
Surrett adjusted his tie, and coughed. “The Prophus's code name is Riseevar. I made contact with the double agent nine months ago.”
“Really? Interesting. And you chose not to divulge this information in your reports?”
He shrugged. “Does it matter how I've come across my intel? My results speak for themselves. My team located the Prophus operative. I turned Riseevar, and the Genjix have completely leveled Prophus operations in this region.”
He has a point there.
“This seems like a pretty important piece of information to exclude when I first demanded an account of all your resources.”
“They are unrelated,” Surrett said. “You are only here to oversee the completion of the Bio Comm Array construction. My other programs are my own.”
We cannot fault him for that.
“According to the report you sent the Council, you uncovered operations scattered all over southeast Asia, but none in India.” Shura held up her tablet, which displayed a photo she had taken earlier. “Why was Riseevar standing in the crowd at your speech today?”
“That's the arrangement,” Surrett replied. “The Prophus recently acquired knowledge of the Bio Comm Array project. Riseevar is running interference and counterintelligence until India has officially turned Genjix.”
“And what does Riseevar get for his dedication?”
“The traitor wishes to join the Genjix and be on the winning side. Riseevar specifically requested to be involved in the Bio Comm Array in a high-ranking capacity.”
The pieces began to fit. She pulled up another of his reports. “The Prophus agent Emily Curran's death. That was part of the deal.”
“That part was botched,” Surrett admitted, “which is why Riseevar is still out there running interference. Curran was investigating another matter here in India and stumbled upon the Bio Comm Array project. She was the one who tipped the Prophus off. I decided that the best way forward was to have Riseevar participate and sabotage their investigation on the Bio Comm Array facility.”
“The scout and the recon team was the traitor's doing.” Shura couldn't find much fault in that. It was a sound plan and was paying dividends in spades for the Genjix. “Why am I only learning about this now after I nearly blew the asset's cover?”
He looked her straight in the face. “Would you if you were in my place? Would you offer up a personal valuable asset and sacrifice standing to another?”