The Simmering Seas Page 12
“I killed them for Kai. There are five to go. I won’t stop until they’re all dead.”
He sensed the denial before she spoke.
“You’re pathetic, RJ. Crime scene photos from the Constabulary? Did you think this would work?”
“I took these myself. There weren’t any crime scenes because I removed the bodies. All but one I sent out to sea. Eaten by now, I’d think. Don’t believe me? Throw your hand-comm against the holo and verify their origin codes. I have enough evidence on my device to set me up for public execution.”
“No one is that stupid.”
“I’m the only one who can unlock it. Anyone else tries, the core melts. I look at them once a day. They keep me going. I’m proud of what I did. Kai would be happy somebody stood up for him.”
“Ah. A digital trophy room, is it? So, assuming this gallery of corpses belongs to you, I was right to come for you tonight. You’re a garden variety psychopath. At least when you killed for Green Sun, you made a small difference.”
“And I never turned my back on the cause. After all I did for Green Sun, not one of you believed my story. You were so willing to assume I turned just because I’m not Hokki-born.”
“No, RJ. We came for your head because of the facts. You walked away from that slaughter without a scratch. And your nonsense excuse? Kai sending you outside the Swallows to be spotter?”
Ryllen never blamed Green Sun for their outrage. The ambush represented the group’s worst intelligence failure. Surely, an inside job. The rest of his team were shredded by flash pegs, leaving a gruesome mess for the Constabulary. The news dominated IntraNex feeds. He left Ronin Swallows not understanding how he recovered from his wounds but quickly realized who Green Sun would scapegoat. After he learned the truth, Ryllen retreated into the shadows. Were they supposed to believe he was a bio-engineered immortal who died and was reborn twice that night?
“I deserved better,” he said. “I was always true.” He pointed to the holographic corpses. “I did this for Kai.”
She sneered. “If Lan hadn’t struck a deal with your friend Cortez, I’d have made this right a year ago.”
“I remember your knife at my throat. I also remember what Lan said. No touching me until you proved I was the traitor. He must have had doubt. Why didn’t you?”
Mei didn’t answer right away. Ryllen wasn’t surprised. She’d never admit it boiled down to her feelings for Kai. Though they were step siblings, Mei and Kai spent years orbiting each other with an unfulfilled sexual appetite. At least, that’s how Kai classified it whenever he insisted Ryllen was the only one he loved.
The deal negotiated in secret between Lan Chua and Ham Cortez forced Ryllen’s exile from Green Sun. No one – especially Mei – seemed happy with the deal, and neither man explained why they reached the agreement, but it allowed Ryllen the freedom to pursue his personal crusade.
Mei waved off Ryllen’s evidence. “That all you have to say?”
“Oh, I could talk for hours. But you stopped listening a year ago. Nothing’s changed.”
“No, it hasn’t.”
“Fair enough.” He threw off the hologram and tucked his hand-comm inside his jacket. “I tried. I’m going to take a seat right here.” He slipped into a high-back chair. “I need you to make a promise.”
“For you, RJ? Not a chance.”
“I’m about to make your life easy. You won’t have to kill me.” He jammed the barrel of a laser pistol beneath his mouth. “Promise you won’t leave me alone. Sit on the bed and watch me. Never take your eyes off me. I won’t need ten minutes.”
Her sneer melted away, replaced by dismay.
“What are you trying to …?”
“You told me to shake and rattle your world. I will, Mei. Sit. Watch. Ten minutes. Probably less. Promise me.”
In the last seconds before he pressed the trigger button, Ryllen saw Mei Durin’s resolve crack. She never thought he’d have the courage.
Death. Silence.
Fire and rain.
And then, revolutions growing faster until at last, he saw it.
The abyss.
A boundless well of agony reserved for the privileged. He was not among them.
He felt a familiar tug and opened his eyes.
Mei sat on her knees at his side, locked in an icy, discomforting glare. Was that a tear? Ryllen smiled.
“Will you listen to me now?”
16
T WENTY-FIVE HOURS LATER, RYLLEN drank Senjan whiskey from the same bar where he met Mei. The gold liquor wasn’t as bitter as he expected, but it was warm and settled his nerves. A few tables away, the evening’s main event launched as Kara Syung and her personal assistant sat across from Ham. Ryllen’s left earpiece picked up every awkward word with clarity. He revered the ex-Chancellor’s composure.
These two rich girls had no clue how to handle themselves in Zozo, and their disguises were hysterical. Ryllen grew up among Haansu girls. Arrogant. Naïve. Self-absorbed. How long did these two spend researching the dress and lifestyle of dolls? They were laughable, but Ham did a damn fine job of assimilating them. No one seemed to pay them any mind once they slid to his side. No one, that is, except the three outsiders who arrived on schedule.
Ryllen played it cool, his glances furtive but substantial enough to take stock of the new visitors. Two were teenage strangers, boy and girl. He recognized the third – a woman years older, buzzcut, scar under her left jaw. She trained with Ryllen’s Green Sun team in the weeks before the disaster at Ronin Swallows but was reassigned. Lucky her. Why was she here? How long before she recognized him? The agreement was clear: None of the attackers would be Green Sun. Did someone misunderstand? Or was this a setup? Should he call off the whole damn thing?
No. Ryllen wasn’t going to be accused of running from the fight again. He waited. Drank. Listened. Hoped.
Twenty-four hours earlier, he faced Mei’s questions after returning from the dead for the fifth time in thirteen months. She was furious.
“You could have proved your innocence at any time,” she said in Room 317. Mei opened the casement to breathe in fresh ocean air. “I had you on the ground that night. My knife was at your throat, you shit. You never said a word. Why?”
Ryllen shrugged. “Outcome would have been the same.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ham said …”
“Cortez?”
“He said I’d be exiled from Green Sun no matter what I did. Sure, you’d know I wasn’t a coward, but I’d never be accepted back in. I was created in a Chancellor lab on Earth. Ham was pushing me to join the other immortals on Aeterna.”
“Cortez was right. Why did you stay?”
“This is my home. Plus, I had work to do.” He held up his hand-comm and joined her at the window. “Still got five cudfruckers to kill.”
To the north, a beautiful circus of lights extended a mile out into the sea, the Port of Pinchon never resting.
“I’ll hand it to you, RJ. You properly rattled my world. Question is, why now? You wouldn’t come forward unless you needed me.”
“You’re right. We have an opportunity. Depending on how it goes, it might benefit all of us.”
“Who?”
“Me. You. Ham. Green Sun. Maybe every Hokki on the planet.”
She stifled a laugh. “Tone down your sales pitch, RJ. Less is more.”
“I’m not exaggerating. We’ve known for years what the rings are doing, but the seamasters and the governments have denied it. Ham’s new client is high placed at Nantou. He believes she might be the key to finding the truth, but we need to motivate her.”
“Motivate. Strong word. Who is it?”
“Kara Syung. House of Syung-Low. Know her?”
“Seriously? We don’t consort in the same circles. Even if she’s important somehow, what do you and Cortez need with me?”
“Not just you. Lan Chua. He’s EC of Discipline at Nantou. He knows everything that goes on, and he’s bound t
o be friendly with Syung-Low.”
“No. He’d never take the risk. Lan survives because he keeps his day job and Green Sun in separate worlds.”
“Ham doesn’t agree. He knows something about Lan, but he won’t say. It’s like the deal they struck to keep Green Sun from coming after me. They never explained it. Just laid down terms.”
She retreated inside the room and fell onto the bed.
“Never did understand that one,” she said. “Lan insisted he was protecting Green Sun. He asked for trust. Cud! Cortez must have told him your secret. But why it was so important, RJ?”
“Dunno. That’s why we have to get all this out in the open, and we need to do it before tomorrow night. That’s when Ham is meeting his client. How about it, Mei? Want to help? For Kai?”
Kai never brought Ryllen to Mal’s Drop, but if he had, the night would have consisted of more than drinks and listening to the band in the rear gallery. In their final months together, Kai made love as if he’d never have another chance. As Ryllen ordered a second shot of whiskey and awaited Ham’s next move, he decided: Yes, this might have been a nice hangout if Kai were given more time.
The threesome who worried Ryllen split up. The teenage boy stood at the bar’s end, while the other two – including the Green Sun veteran who wasn’t supposed to be here – occupied a table halfway between the bar and Ham. They showed no outward interest in anyone else, per the plan, but Ryllen knew they were paying close attention.
At last, Ham took the next critical step. He escorted his “dolls” through the front gallery, arm in arm. They walked with the confident swagger he insisted upon. Ham beamed like a man about to receive the night of his life. Ryllen tried to keep his back to them, but his eyes made contact with Kara Syung, even if for an instant. Would seeing another off-worlder nearby spook her?
He sighed relief when Ham took them inside Room 317.
“Have a seat on the bed and tell me your story, Miss Syung,” Ham said through the earpiece.
Ryllen finished off the second shot. Now to waiting.
If the threesome in the front gallery followed the plan, they’d hold until the signal. Ham needed time to extract the necessary details. Yet “the signal” was out of Ryllen’s control. A concession to Mei.
He kept a cautious eye on the trio and listened as Kara Syung related the story of her dead brother, his warnings, and his travel records to other islands. The discussion turned to the rings and the theory about acenomite poisoning the land. Ryllen became so engrossed, he almost lost track of time.
The signal.
He looked over his shoulder, shading his eyes.
The threesome was on the move. The boy at the bar passed him first. The females followed. Ryllen avoided eye contact, although hiding in a crowd of Hokkis did little to keep him from standing out. If the Green Sun agent recognized him, she offered no hint.
Ryllen swiped his hand-comm and sent an order to the hopper. The timing would be about right. He hid the device away and tapped a code into his wrist-melded bicomm to send Ham a pre-recorded message.
“Trouble times three. I got their flank. Pickup is on the way.”
He gave the threesome fair distance, waiting until they disappeared past the first flight of stairs before he followed. He scaled the opening steps without worry, the squeaks overwhelmed by the din rising from the bar. Then he took a more cautious approach. They were quiet, these three, as ordered. Whatever you do, they were told, approach the third floor with discretion. Listen for voices. The job is terror, not murder.
It felt all wrong. These three were not intended to be assassins. Why send a veteran Green Sun killer? Had she finagled her way into this scheme without consent? If so, what was her agenda?
Ryllen’s paranoia worked overdrive as he approached the third floor. The discussion inside Room 317 stopped when Ham received the pre-recorded message and took up his own bit of scripted theater. He told his clients to hide behind the bed.
Ryllen came to the top of the stairs and reached for his Goodboy. He peered around the corner, expecting to see three would-be thugs about to burst into 317. Instead, he looked into the hazel eyes of a woman whose name still escaped him.
“Good to see you again, RJ,” she said.
The woman shot him point-blank.
As the pain of a laser knife seared his chest and Ryllen lost his balance, the shock came with a stark realization:
This was not the plan.
The actual plan took shape before sunrise onboard the Quantum Majesty, a Sonning Class deep-sea trawler docked at Quay 95. The ship was undergoing a three-day shakedown before its next voyage. In the meantime, silent owner Lan Chua convened a summit of his highest-ranking Green Sun officers and special guests.
Lan, dressed as always in an off-white suit with flowered neck scarf, welcomed Ham Cortez and Ryllen to his personal suite, fronted by a selection of wines, fruits, and Kohlna rolls. Mei stood by his side. Lan remained seated as he sipped rose.
“Hamilton,” Lan said with a patented half-smile that gave away nothing. “Respect. As always. And RJ, welcome back. You’ve been a desolate man far too long. And bloody, from what I’ve been told.”
Ryllen and Mei shared an awkward stare. When Mei agreed to help, she made one thing clear: She’d hold nothing back from Lan. He was a second father, and his vision for a “pure Lagos” was hers as well.
“I owe you a tiny debt,” Mei had conceded before they left Mal’s Drop. “I’ll arrange a meeting with Lan. After that, I go where he says. If he thinks working with you and Cortez is a sorry deal, I’m out.”
Ham did not appreciate being dragged out of a good sleep, but he was in midday form by the time they arrived at the port.
“We should move quickly to business,” Ham said, taking a seat. “Sunrise will bring suspicious eyes upon mixed company.”
“Agreed.”
Lan, a tall and broad-shouldered man with a pencil-thin mustache, focused on Ryllen, who stood. Green Sun etiquette during Ryllen’s tenure was clear: No one sat without Lan’s permission.
“Please, RJ. Join Hamilton. And before we launch into our business, allow me to apologize. You’ve been hurt more than anyone by this affair. However, the deal I struck with Hamilton was for your good as well as ours.” He turned to Ham. “Care to explain?”
Ham faced Ryllen, now seated. “Lan and I worked together for many years, kid. We developed mutual concerns. The Lagos and the rings, among others. After Ronin Swallows, you came to me to learn about your past. I offered you a way out, but you chose vengeance over Aeterna. I contacted Lan. He thought you betrayed Green Sun. I told him what you were. And then, we talked at some length.
“We decided you might best serve everyone’s needs if allowed to pursue your vendetta … with my help, of course. You’re a survivor and you were alone. Being immortal meant you might take extraordinary chances, which you have. No one sees you coming. On the other hand, Lan and I have had to move carefully the past year, especially in regard to the seamasters. RJ, something is afoot. Its true form is elusive, but we believe it poses a global threat. Strange though it seems, your madness the past year has prepared you for the next stage.”
Ryllen might have felt insulted if he was surprised, but he never fully trusted either man. He learned his lesson from within his own family; the Jees threw him aside at first opportunity. If his mother, brother, and sister were capable of disowning him, why did he think a power broker or a former Chancellor garnered absolute fealty? Men like these doled out the truth in strategic doses.
He stared down Ham. “Was that the long way around to say sorry? Don’t answer. Nobody ever really means that shit anyway. You promised me a prize by the end of the week, and I want it.” He pivoted to Mei. “It’s why I came to you, because I knew you’d go to him.” He faced Lan. “Can you get me Shin Wain?”
Lan motioned to one of his officers, who grabbed a glass of wine and handed it to Ryllen.
“A difficult catch, RJ.”
“Many complications. Tough to move against him without his awareness. He has many eyes and far more protectors. And then there’s the matter of his … work.”
“He’s off island. That’s what I was told. So, he’s still close.”
“Not necessarily. If my reports are accurate, Shin Wain doesn’t spend much time on Hokkaido these days.”
Ryllen checked his rage as he turned to Ham.
“You said by the end of the week. Were you lying?”
“A lie is an unfulfilled promise,” Ham said. “The week is far from over. We are not here to discuss Shin Wain. As you said, kid, he is only one man.”
Lan stepped in. “He will be caught in our net if we succeed. RJ, you don’t know how important Kara Syung’s contact with Hamilton may be. We are here to ensure his meeting with her sets in motion a necessary chain of events. For now, put aside your vendetta and consider this a critical step along the path.”
As if he had a choice.
Over the next hour, through fits and starts, they devised the plan and all elements of the timing. Lan instructed his officers to scoop up three low-level mahali dealers who worked freelance for Green Sun on the side. Their task: Rob an illegal immo smuggler and his wealthy clients. Add a few flesh wounds for special effect. No killing.
These poor sods were never going to leave Mal’s Drop alive. They were to burst into Room 317, weapons aimed. Ham and Ryllen would do the rest. At least, that was the plan.
It worked with brutal efficiency until Ryllen took a laser blast in his chest from a woman who most definitely was not supposed to be there.
Ryllen knew the wound was fatal. He had minutes at best, but he wasn’t going to allow this interloper to trash his best opportunity at tracking down Shin Wain. He regrouped before tumbling downstairs and moved with catlike dexterity.