The Deaths of Tao (32 page)

Faust had recovered and was currently keeping watch. He hadn’t drunk as much as Roen and was relatively sober. Eventually though, they would have to sleep. Both were exhausted already. And if they were both caught asleep, it would be the end of them.

As the thirteenth hour approached, there was a knock on the door. Both Roen and Faust stood up, weapons in hand. “What do you want?” Roen snarled at the door.

“Don’t worry about the world coming to an end today,” someone spoke in English.

It cannot be!
 

It took a second for the statement to register, then a wave of relief swept over Roen and he broke into a grin. “It’s already tomorrow in Australia.”

The door knob turned and a large figure stepped into the room. It was dark, but he could make out the outline of a disfigured face. Roen moved forward, and the two embraced in the only way straight military men were comfortable doing, with rough pats on the back and what Roen referred to as the clamp of doom. Laughing, Dylan picked him off the ground and shook him like a rag doll. He then gave Roen a playful smack on the shoulder that nearly knocked him off his feet.

“What the blazes are you doing here? Did you actually come crawling back to the Prophus? Run out of lunch money or did you finally come to your senses about your wife? And why do you smell like you’ve been on a binger?”

“I never lost my senses about my wife,” Roen grinned back. Only Dylan could talk to him this way and not get a rise out of him. “We got a problem here. There’s an army of triad mobsters trying to kill us. How did you get past them?”

Dylan frowned and beckoned him to follow. Together, they walked through the door to the next room where at least two dozen Dragon members in full battle gear waited. This time, Roen saw guns; lots of them. Sloppy Eater was standing in front with murder on his face. For a split second, Roen thought Dylan had changed sides. An angry rumble erupted from the group. None seemed too happy to see them.

Yen changing sides is laughable. It would never happen.
 

“How many times have you said that?”

Too often, unfortunately.
 

Dylan held up his hands trying to calm everyone down. “Da Ge Chang, there seems to be a misunderstanding.”

Chang came forward and jabbed a shotgun into Roen’s chest. “I offer you our support and you attack us!”

“You were moving in on us,” Roen said. “Don’t think we didn’t notice that.”

“We were watching out for Brother Dylan. He warned us the enemy was hunting him,” Chang shot back.

Dylan gave Roen a shut-your-mouth glare. “Da Ge Chang, we will gladly make this situation right.”

“We generously provide you shelter and weapons, and your idiot attacks us!” He emphasized each syllable of idiot with a jab of the shotgun. “One of the injured is my nephew. He is only seventeen.”

“Maybe you should be a better uncle and not steer him toward two-bit thuggery as a career,” Roen muttered under his breath.

The look Dylan gave him could have killed a lesser man. He turned back to Chang and tried to explain the misunderstanding. He shot Roen that same look again when he found out that it was him who had thrown the first punch. Then he finally buried his face in his hands when Chang explained that nine of his men were in the hospital.

Nine in two minutes. Color me impressed.
 

“Half teenagers though. It was like being the only adult in a kid’s karate class.”

I fear teens more than adults in a fight. If I may remind you of your encounter with Jacob.
 

“You may not. In fact, we must never speak of it again.”

If anything, it might actually be a good time to go over it. I doubt it will be the last time we encounter him. I believe him to be an Adonis Vessel.
 

Roen harrumphed at the thought. Of course that punk would be an Adonis Vessel. More and more over the past few years, these young, annoying superhumans had been popping up like weeds among the Genjix ranks. And he hated to admit it, but those kids had been eating their Wheaties, or whatever genetically modified formula the Genjix were feeding them. In the past few years, these Adonis, some barely old enough to drive, had begun to form the backbone of a new generation of Genjix officers. And in every encounter, they had proven to be difficult adversaries.

Finally, it all came down to restitution. Fortunately, Roen hadn’t killed or injured any of them too seriously, or the triad might have been honor-bound to kill him. Instead, because of Dylan’s longstanding relationship with this particular group, Roen was allowed to pay for the damage and dishonor he caused. In the end, it came out to another cool half million Taiwanese dollars. Roen had somehow spent two-thirds of Lin’s money in the first few days. At this rate, they would be broke by lunch. After paying up, the Dragon members ushered the three out and told Roen to never show his face again.

Once they were outside, Dylan cuffed him on the shoulder. “Really? How did you make this big mess in such a short period of time? I’ve been here for weeks and haven’t made a peep. You haven’t unpacked yet and already they almost put a hit out on you.”

“Sorry?” Roen smiled sheepishly. “How did you find us anyway? What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Dylan looked surprised. “One of Chang’s boys runs to my place saying some guys were looking for me. As far as I know, the only people after me were the Genjix. Then he tells me they locked you in their closet, so I came.”

Roen grimaced. “More like we locked ourselves. So you were working with them all this time?”

Dylan nodded. “Chang and I go way back. I used to help them run guns during our pirating days. So what the bloody hell are you doing here? I didn’t send for you, nor am I dead.”

“Wait, you knew we were here all this time? We’ve been looking for you!” Roen stammered.

Dylan smacked his forehead with his palm. “Wuehler’s team is supposed to stay up north and cause a ruckus.”

“I don’t get it. Why?” Roen said.

I do. We were never supposed to find Dylan. We were decoys.
 

 

TWENTY-EIGHT

NOT AS EASY AS IT SEEMS

We call ourselves your gods, and it is true in every sense. We are the parents who raised humanity, and like any gods, we own your future to use as we feel was necessary. The vessels who follow us do so knowing that those who serve live an eternity through their Quasing.
 

Elevation is not without cost, though, and our will not without consequences. There is a price to pay for our blessing. The humans who serve will be adapted. All others will perish.
–
Zoras

 

Enzo’s first priority was to stabilize the situation until reinforcements came. That had proven more difficult than anticipated. The very next day, Vinnick’s two thousand reinforcements arrived. Its commander, a stubborn vessel named Nguyen, had refused to hand command over to Enzo. He had to be put down and Vuru, his Holy One, given to another of Enzo’s hand-picked men. Genjix forces now numbered three thousand, yet Enzo would not feel at ease until the rest of his men came, for a total of five thousand men at his disposal.

A significant portion of Enzo’s training at the Hatchery since he was old enough to walk was war, be it hand-to-hand combat, planning a coastal invasion, or organizing an underground resistance. He had begun studying historical battles as soon as he finished his alphabets. By the age of four, he had read Sun Tzu’s
The Art of War
. By six, he had memorized it. By twelve, he had an equivalent to a PhD on the history of war, from Assyrian chariot tactics to Lieutenant Napoleon’s first artillery formations to Captain Winter’s assault on German fortifications at Brécourt Manor. Enzo knew his calling and dreamed that if given the opportunity, he would shine at his first command. So far, it hadn’t worked out the way he had thought it would. For one thing, this Prophus commander wasn’t playing fair.

The enemy continually probed the camp’s defenses, even with the prisoners lined along the fence, seemingly willing to risk friendly fire. They would hit a part of the perimeter at its weakest, just as shifts ended or if there was a gap in the coverage. Somehow, they had a way of signaling the prisoners. The guard on duty would be taken out, the gate blown, and then a quick raid would nab a dozen men. And it would all happen before any of Enzo’s people could react.

In the first two days, there must have been at least twenty attacks. It finally stopped on the third day, when Enzo’s men finished burning the forest back a hundred meters. He had cursed that delay. It should have been the first thing he ordered when he got here. However, the constant Prophus attacks forced him into a reactionary role, and he had not had time to assess the situation. He now had a healthy respect for this Prophus commander. Whoever led them was good.

After the no man’s land was burned on the fourth day, the enemy did not have a single successful incursion. By the fifth, the attacks had stopped altogether. This gave Enzo the reprieve he needed to strengthen their defenses. On the eve of his sixth day there, Chow sent Enzo a message begging for more subjects, saying they were desperately close to a solution but had no more prisoners. Enzo was tempted to tell him to use Genjix vessels instead.

Out of the question! I do not care how close we are to our goal. Is that understood?
 

“Of course, Holy One. It was just a thought.”

Enzo walked out of the war room and signaled to Palos. “Prep the transport. I want a full security team on board. Get a line to the Chinese military and have two more helicopters delivered. Larger ones this time. We’ll never finish this project if we shuttle prisoners ten at a time.”

After a slight pause, Palos nodded and left without a word. Enzo watched him disappear around the corner. He was starting to believe he had made an error giving Zauw to Palos. His first was loyal, but would he remain so after being blessed with a Holy One whose loyalty lay elsewhere? Zauw must be incensed with Newgard’s death. Who would Palos follow if their orders contradict?

Your decision was not wrong. Palos was best qualified to become a vessel. The vessel follows the Quasing. If Zauw chooses to continue with Vinnick, you must let him go.
 

Enzo grimaced. He had come to rely on the older commander. To let that valuable resource go to his opposition felt like defeat. But if it was the will of the Holy Ones, he would not question their way.

That night, under cover of darkness, the Mi-171, laden with an equal number of prisoners and guards, took off and headed north toward Lhasa Gonggar Airport. Enzo watched it take off and hover just above the tree line, and then thought no more of it. After all, Genjix controlled the airspace in this region. Fifteen minutes later, however, the base received a distress call.

Enzo was shocked to discover that the Prophus had shot down a transport filled with their own people. He didn’t think the Prophus had it in them. They found the wreckage fifty klicks from the camp. All fifteen Genjix operatives were accounted for: nine bodies inside the helicopter and six outside, the furthest nearly a hundred meters away. He was shot through the head.

None of the prisoners’ bodies was present, so he could not tell how many had died. This complicated matters. It was clear now that the commander of the enemy would rather kill his own people than let the Genjix experiment on them. Enzo was impressed. He did not think the soft Prophus had the fortitude to make these hard choices. It was what he would have done in their place.

This delay is unacceptable. Send another shipment by morning. Two if necessary.
 

“Your will, Zoras.”

Enzo spent the rest of the night devising an alternative. This camp was so remote that there were few options available to him. Helicopter transport was easiest, but that idea was off the table now. Land convoys proved too vulnerable. The next option was a plane. However, the airport in Lhasa was five hundred kilometers away, and the Prophus controlled too much of the land between the camp and the city. The alternative was to build a landing strip in the camp. Materials and engineers would have to be flown in, and it would take time.

There is another option. Cross the border and use the Langtang Airport in Nepal. It is a scant fifty kilometers from the camp.
 

“We have no jurisdiction in Nepal.”

The Genjix have jurisdiction everywhere. If we order the Chinese government to speak with their government, we will not be refused.
 

Enzo’s eyes traced the route heading south to the airport from the camp. It was a much shorter journey but would be over mountainous terrain. It was doable, though dangerous. The important thing was to get the convoy out into open space. It was a risk they had to take.

Enzo sent off a quick email to Amanda to arrange the clearance with the Nepalese government. For now, he had to sit tight until reinforcements came. The logistics of sending two thousand men to a remote region of the world was a task the Genjix rarely undertook. The Quasing war did not usually resort to these types of engagements. He was pulling in men from as far away as Europe. That was the only way he could fortify the camp and adequately guard a convoy.

A loud explosion suddenly rocked the camp. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling. While such things happened regularly, this explosion seemed larger than usual. After the dust had settled, Enzo dusted off his shoulders and studied the map again. Then a series of bigger explosions erupted from every direction, and perimeter alarms began to howl.

“Father,” an officer ran in and bowed. “It’s a full coordinated attack. All sides.”

Get the vessels into the main building. None must escape.
 

Enzo began giving commands, setting up the defenses for an all-out attack. There was another explosion: west side again. He left the building and waved his personal guards forward as they rushed out into battle. The floodlights on the towers had been taken out, and the northwest corner tower groaned as it lit up the night. It would collapse any minute. The no-man’s-land between the camp and the forest was ablaze with bursts of muzzle fire.