Sleep evaded me for the first night in a long time and I kept waking up to stare at the water spots on the ceiling. It seemed that every time I was just about to sneak my way into unconsciousness, I walked into half dreams that kept running me through a gauntlet of the past week's events, but with a dark feverish twist. Everything was distorted for the worse – the bald man kept having me terminated, Dark Finders were chasing me everywhere, and I kept getting dragged into fights for Angus. Eventually, I decided that it was only making me more tired and I gave up fighting it. Dropped me feet to the floor with a groan, I rubbed my burning eyes and stretched. My mind was determined to keep me up until I got some sort of answers. It looked like the comment I made about the damn day never ending was coming true.
In the bathroom, I splashed cold water across my face and slicked my hair back to wake me up. The dark bags under my eyes and pale complexion made me look ten years older and the moan I let out sounded like it. As I stumbled back to the bedroom to get dressed, I knew my chances of sleeping tonight were about as good as seeing a dry day.
"I'll sleep when I'm dead," I told the bed as I tossed my weapons and clothes in a pile and sat heavily beside them.
It took a few minutes to clean and load my Blitzer and I slid the snubber into the holster in the square of my back as insurance. I would have preferred to strap on the MAC instead, but I couldn't take it with me where I was going. My appearance already screamed operative but there was no reason to flaunt it, but I had to be well armed. That was when two magical syllables "Cof-fee" came to mind and I knew I had found the holy grail of getting my heart beating again.
Angus was snoring peacefully on the couch and checked his bandages after I started the coffee. After the Kickstart had started to work, he had relaxed and mercifully dosed off. Until then, his blow-by-blow commentaries were really getting annoying and I had considered hitting him too.
"The McLeod boys," I mumbled. "You stupid son of a bitch. What have you gotten me into?"
I scribbled "Take a Shower" on a piece of paper and stuck it onto the crosspiece of his Claymore since that was probably the only place he might find it. He still looked like he had been hit by a gauss train, but the wounds were closed nicely and he was out of danger until the next time came around. As I drank my coffee and pulled on my slick, I mentally patted myself on the back since I had remembered to toss the plastic sheet over the couch before he lay down. I was even more proud that I had managed to beat the urge to wrap it around his head instead.
As I quietly closed the door, the echoes of a distant TV and the rasp of my feet on the were the only sounds. Something nagged at me – what if I was actually asleep? The smell that wafted out of the elevator when I got in proved that I couldn't be happily dozing. No nightmare smells that bad. When the door finally opened, I found that the lobby was as empty as the halls above and I made for the door. There were no giant Frothers here to work me over, but it was probably too early for them to get up anyway. The dull rumble of the rain became a low roar when I stepped into the foyer and swung the doors open.
Part of the awning in front of the tenement had collapsed under the falling rain sometime after I got home, so I got into the cold downpour a lot quicker than I wanted. Battle Taxis hissed by me on the mirrored streets and the ground shook as a pair of green Shiver APCs rumbled up the overpass ramp. Right now, most of my friends were happily asleep, but Mort kept kicking and turning. When compared to Meny, OC, or New Paris, Mort was perpetually vital and vibrant – the ultimate eternal city. At least the coffee stand in the subway had the same idea and I picked up a triple espresso to keep me going. It hit me immediately and I wondered what they had spiked it with.
I took the 405 to the crossover, then got off at 55th and was back in the rain near Taipei Plaza. The thirty-minute ride put me in another world, one where Slayer is nothing more than an obstacle to be quietly dodged. The subway stench gave way to the fragrances of incense, frying meat, and perfume and I breathed in easily. I was in the East side of Changtown on the same streets that I had grown up in and it felt good. Sometimes the best place to start looking for answers is in your past.
Regardless of the hour, the tight streets are choked with people arguing and pushing between the stands or rifling through piles of wares. I wove my way through probably a dozen New Parisians and Uptowners with their chic clean rain gear and cameras as they tried to out haggle the stand owners. Those guys live to haggle and I couldn't help but smile as an old woman used the "no money, no money" line to hit the sympathy angle. Every tourist to Mort is drawn to Changtown's streets like a moth to a blowtorch and a lot of them vanish in its streets. For their sakes, I hoped this group stuck together and kept their eyes open.
I passed through a cloud of smoke from a food kiosk and remembered the popular saying that you can follow a fragrance to your true desire. It makes it easy to find the brothels and drug dens if that's your interest– you just follow a particular scent with your nose until you find the signs. I'm not sure if the air just seems cleaner here or if the scents are just so much stronger. Outsiders think this makes it easy for Shivers or ops to stage a raid, but that's not the case. Changtown has its own special rules that seem to defy the regular order in the WoP - no Shivers walk its narrow streets, no Red BPNs are ever issued, and vice is open. It's funny if you compare it to the rest of Mort, but I'm sure that's the way Slayer wants it.
As I pushed past an aggressive vendor trying to sell me jewelry, I thought about how they say that the real power drifts through the streets and around its people like a dragon made of smoke. "You can't see it, but you can feel its eyes burning into you", the old men say. Then there's the old saying that "everything that happens in Changtown is seen, but no one sees anything" and that's pretty true also. The truth is that it's seen by those who matter and that means Slayer's eyes are a little more subtle here. I tend to get poetic when I get tired and shook off the line of thought as I concentrated on why I was here.
When I was in the Wah Chang, they told me that if you want to find out something - nearly anything, you can come into these streets. The flipside is that it's like a poorly organized library and you're wasting your time unless you know how to ask the right questions. Even though I'm a gwailo, or "ghost man", I know the rules of the game well enough to navigate and look for the right people. It helped to speak the lingo and I hoped that my accent wasn't completely trashed from disuse. It had been a long time since I had been back and it showed.
Cutting between a pair of stands, I passed through the doors of an apothecary shop filled with the rich smell of herbs and old paper. Across the street was a wide Mah Jong hall and I peered through the ornate wooden slats of the wall as I passed. Scores of people were hunched down playing as men in suits circulated and one of them saw me. He stopped and stared until I vanished from sight, but I figured there would be a welcoming committee waiting on the other side. This was such a different world than the rest of the city and I smiled to myself, wondering how K'rth would feel. As I came around the back of the hall, there was no group of men waiting. Instead, there were just two young men guarding the back door to the building and I walked up to the one on the left.
He was about eighteen but had the eyes of an older man that were cold and hard. A lot of the gangers like the Wah Chang are groomed to become "Hung Kwan", or enforcers for the Trang and learn to use violence as a first resort. Very few live to make it to their mid twenties because of it, but the ones that do are serious bad asses. As his eyes looked into mine, there was no fear and no emotion. I wondered how many years this one had left.
"Whahchuwah, Gwailo?" he asked in heavily accented Killian. There are times to play the dumb outsider and other times when you have to drop the pretenses and talk to them like you know what you're doing, but you always have to be respectful. I remember this one op that tried to get rough with the crew I was in and what we did to him. I'm sure this guy would love to leave me in a gutter.
"I need to see Tony," I said in Chang. Although I still know the words, my accent had definitely gone to the dogs and he frowned with disgust. It only supported what many of the Chang think - that a gwailo mouth wasn't made to speak the higher tongue. After a moment, he rapped the door with the back of his knuckles without turning his head. A man poked his head outside and looked me up and down.
"Get Tony," the first man said in Chang and the second nodded and vanished.
It had been a couple years since I'd seen my "big brother" and I wondered how he would react. Wei Hun Fai, or "Tony" Wei was what some people term "born into the life" but he never acted like it. His father held the important rank of "426" or "Red Pole" within the Raging Dragon Trang and it only made things rougher on the son since he had higher standards to reach. Old man Wei kicked him into the street when he was about ten and told him he could come back once he proved he had worth. The last time Tony and I saw each other, he was about to be initiated into the Trang and I was going to be an op. Things must be good for him and I got really lucky that I found him here. I expected to take the whole night to find someone who knew him, but someone must have smiled on me and I found him in the first place I checked.
The two "Hung Kwan" had decided that I was alone and kept their eyes on me as I waited under the awning. Even though I was armed, they didn't disarm me or take any extra precautions. Their overconfidence was more testament to the fact that they probably wouldn't live to see twenty-one. There was movement and muffled voices behind the door, then it slide back with a low rattle. A person I hoped never to see again came out instead of Tony and I fought the irritation rising in my throat.
His name was Feng Tze Ho and he hadn't changed very much, except for adding a little weight. Ho was the soft-faced, effeminate kid in the crew who was everybody's friend, right up until something really bad happened to you. Slick enough to dump the blame onto others, he never got the payback he deserved. He stared for a few seconds, then his face widened into a grin as he recognized me.
"Alex! How nice to see you again!" His voice was syrupy sweet and his eyes were bright with enthusiasm.
"Hello Ho. Is Tony here?" I asked. The shorter I could cut my time around him down, the less chance I had of catching a disease.
"I'm very sorry, but Tony isn't available. Perhaps there is something I can do for you?" At that, he reached out and touched my shoulder and I glared. Wincing like I had swatted him, he pulled away and said in a softer voice, " It really is so good to see you."
Right, I'm sure it was. Ho was only interested in helping when it benefits him. Since I had obviously become an operative, his curiosity was peaked and I could imagine the wheels turning behind his eyes. I once overheard him say that the only thing worse than a gwailo in the Wah Chang is a gwailo operative, so I had two black marks against me. After all, the Chang are God's chosen people.
"I'm here to see Tony, not you." I said. The tone of my voice had become frosty and the two enforcers noticed. A long time ago, someone sold out several people I cared a great about to Shivers and I never found out who. The only reason Ho is still breathing is that I was never sure he was the one responsible and he probably knows that I'd still kill him if I were given proof today. I don't forget things like that.
"I understand, but you see Tony is very busy and doesn't have time to speak with everyone, not even old friends. It's my job to help out in things such as this and I'm simply trying to-"
"Get Tony. Now." I said and kept staring. He was becoming more uncomfortable and started to shuffle his feet.
There's an old bit of wisdom that if someone can't meet your eyes when you're talking to them, you can't turn your back on them. Now if they try to meet your eyes and are constantly looking around, that means they're up to something. Ho was guilty of both and those little gems of knowledge, compliments from my father, were dead on. It was from one of the few conversations I had with him when he had warned me about guys like Ho.
Ho nodded and looked down as he tried to come up with a different approach. Apparently, this gwailo had a good memory and wasn't very forgiving. I decided to interrupt his thinking since he used to hate that.
"Either get Tony now, or I make this official."
His eyes brightened and another smile spread across his face, this one laced with both threat and amusement. I let him step closer and he leaned forward to whisper.
"Your laws don't apply here, Operative Alexander, "he said, gloating. " This isn't 'Slayer's world and you don't have any power here."
"Maybe not," I whispered back. "But if I decided to snap your neck, these 'lei haai' won't be able to save you or themselves."
He recoiled and the color drained from his face. I had just called the two killers children and he wasn't sure how to react. His eyes fluttered as he tried to compose himself. Since I'm not that frightening of a person, I figured he just wasn't used to being threatened anymore.
"Now Alex, there isn't any reason to become hostile," he said as he backed up "After all we're old friends and I'm just trying to keep you from wasting your time."
The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I figured he was going to tell the two soldiers to pull and fire. I didn't come looking for a fight and wasn't looking forward to another one before I called it a day. Someone, somewhere must really hate me.
"What's going on Ho?" another voice asked. Ho had backed up until he was nearly at the door and ran into someone coming out. He flinched and stepped forward and away from me while the fear slipped behind his smiling mask again.
"Oh, nothing at all. Just helping a tourist to-"
I smiled as Tony came out and wondered if I looked as unusual to him as he did to me. Two ex-gangers all grown up and dressed like adults. He smirked and shook his head while Ho began to waffle. The two enforcers relaxed, but kept watching.
"Oh! I just realized this is our old friend Alex. Why, I'm so embarrassed," Ho began. He's as adept as a cat when it comes to improvising.
Tony shook his head as he began to smile. It had been a long time and we had both done the impossible. We had survived.
"I'm not too surprised that you made it!" he said as he stepped forward and hugged me. "I guess your hard head is good for something."
"I was just about to tell Alex how great it was to see him and invite him in," Ho began and stepped forward. If nothing, the bastard is as persistent as a cockroach…
"Tony, I need to talk. Away from the 'hau'," I said and the three of us laughed. Ho's was far less enthusiastic but he leaned forward, still trying to include himself in the conversation. He had earned the nickname "hau" or "mouth" pretty quickly because he never shuts up. The only reason he didn't get a worse one is because he would have complained about it until he drove us crazy.
"Go back inside," Tony told him as he waved him off and led me away. I think Ho said something else to my back, but I ignored it and turned my attention to the three "Hung Kwan" that were trailing us. So Tony had become important enough to warrant bodyguards. That was funny considering the tough guy image he always cultivated. He noticed my look and waved them back to a more discreet distance.
"Everything changes Alex," he began. "Even I have to have bodyguards follow me. You'd think I was someone's grandfather."
In the tailored white New Parisian suit with a watch big enough to hide behind, he looked like a playboy instead of something more serious and I wondered what his rank was now. A 49? No, he had to be higher than that considering his dress and the guards. I wondered if he was a 415 but there was no way to tell without asking. Even considering the current day, the Trang are a pretty superstitious group and assign a title and a number to designate their ranking. The numbers always start with a 4 and are divisible by three, which is considered a lucky digit. It's not so unusual considering K'rth's race bases everything around the number 7.
"No, you're not quite old enough to play that role yet. I'm surprised to see that you have Ho around. Why?"
"It's better to keep him close where I can watch him. Besides, I promised that I'd take care of him for his grandmother."
Neither of us liked the bastard, but sometimes obligations are a bitch. Tony always placed a lot of value on them, but I never bothered. Promises from some people aren't worth the air used to voice them and I have better things to do with my time.
"It's good to see you. You look healthy."
"Good to see you too, little brother. So how's it feel to be an 'oper-a-tive' now?" He had the same polished smile and glint of challenge in his eyes that I remembered. Tony is only a few months older than me and pretty much adopted me after I was recruited. He's the only brother I've ever really respected and I have even taken a bullet for him.
"It's a way of life," I began. "I take it that things are better with Mr. Wei?"
We always referred to his Father as "Mr. Wei" and I've never met him. He had less of an opinion of gwailo than even Ho and it wouldn't have done their hostile relationship any good to introduce his "white devil little brother" to him. Tony laughed and patted me on the shoulder as he stopped walking. The guards casually spread out to cover the area and gave us some space.
"Only as well as things can ever be," he said. "You ever talk to your old man these days?"
I shook my head. Why in the hell was he continuing to pop up? It was like I was still in a bad dream.
"I don't have any interest in seeing him. Don't even know if he's still alive." I was being honest. I really didn't give a damn about him one way or the other, and the thoughts about him earlier had been uncomfortable.
"He's alive. I check on him occasionally and make sure he's all right. He asks about you and if I've seen you."
I began to feel something unpleasant and dark welling up in me. There are no good memories of him and I don't like to talk about him. He wasn't exactly a nominee for Father of the Year.
"It's funny that you show him more face than I do."
"You know little brother, one day he's going to be gone. You should visit him sometime and try to talk things out before it's too late."
"This coming from you, the guy who wanted to knock off his old man?" I laughed uncomfortably. After one particularly bad fight with Mr. Wei, he got the crew together to whack him. We were about fourteen or so and pumped up enough to try, but Ho talked us out of it. That was the only good thing Ho ever did for either of us and it probably saved our lives. Looking back, I knew that he had done it for his own interests because he was afraid to die.
"When hell freezes over," I added. "But not until then."
He nodded and looked down as he composed his thoughts.
"Are you becoming old fashioned or something?" I asked and he just shook his head, looking more pensive. When he raised his eyes to me, I felt like I was being browbeaten and knew that at least one of us had matured in the past few years. Apparently, he still liked to give lectures…
"Maybe, but I've come to understand that we only have a finite amount of time and then – pow!- we're gone." He made a hand gesture like a clam then opened them like a firecracker. "Alex, you have to make the most out of every second, even if it's just giving face to a relative you don't like. You might not get the chance if you don't do it soon."
"I'd rather have an appendectomy. I've got better things to do."
"I know, but think about it, ok?" he asked, letting it drop. "Now, how did you find me?" His tone had shifted to something less serious and I relaxed.
"I knew that your Father used to run two or three of the halls around here and I decided to ask around. This was the first one I came to, so I got lucky."
He nodded and began to look paternal and serious, but the effort was too much for him. He switched to Killian with a really bad stereotypical Chang accent "Sooo, whatchuwah GWI-0?"
I laughed and shook my head. Any outsider that tried that crap would get kicked into a gutter, but it was okay for him to do it. Tony could make a great anti-Chang racist if he put his mind to it.
"I need information outside of official channels and I thought you might be able to dig it up."
"That's it?" he asked, spreading his arms. "I thought you would've come here needing someone killed or something! What do you want to know that someone doesn't want to tell you?"
I told him about Cloak and their BPN and described the trail I'd been following that ended in the promotion. I left out any mention of the glyphs since I didn't think they were really important. He listened carefully without taking any notes. Tony's memory had always been incredible and he seldom missed details, so I wasn't concerned.
"I want to know what Bayer's real connection to Cloak is, and why they chose me for this," I concluded. "There's something going on that I've only caught a glimpse of and I need to know the big picture. Is this too much for you?"
"Smoke dragons again, eh? It'll take a little time, but I'll find out what I can," he said as he straightened up. "So, why did you think I could help?"
"You told me once that if I ever wanted to know everything about any conspiracy, ask the Chang since they invented them."
"So you did learn something from me!" he said, smiling.
"Yeah. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be alive right now." I said back and he looked proud. He had saved my life more times than I could remember both through action and lessons. Far more than I could ever pay back.
"I'll get what I can and give you a call. Got a cell?" he asked.
I gave him the number and we stood and watched the rain splash the colored lights for a while. In the distance, you could hear the bustling market street and the sound of the gambling hall as it was muffled by the falling drops.
"You know, it's a damn shame that the New Years celebration might be called off because of rain again," he said with a straight face.
He said it with a straight face, but broke into a goofy smile and we both laughed. I had really enjoyed the hour or so I got to spend with him but there was no way to know if I'd live long enough to see him again. With Cloak Division watching me, every extra hour of life seemed like a borrowed time. When I left for the subway and home, I reminisced about the good times when I was growing up. Not everything in the Wah Chang was bad, just a lot of it.
I mulled Tony's comment about the smoke dragon around in my mind. A lot of Chang sayings revolve around hidden dragons or smoke, but this particular one was a little more obscure. It says that a conspiracy is a smoke dragon in rain that fades and reappears, hiding secrets behind the raindrops in front of your eyes. The point of it is that you can only see what is going on if you're involved in it so you can't be afraid of getting wet. You just have to hope you don't get in over your head and drown.
As I left the lights and crowds of Changtown for the subway, I thought about how I walk in Mort's rain all the time. I'd love to know what conspiracy I've become part of.
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