The Deaths of Tao Read online

  “Cute,” was all he said before they engaged again. The rest of Roen’s tricks were decidedly less successful. His Superman punch left him exposed and rewarded him with a bloody lip. His Fanzi fist combination got him popped in the ear, and his flying scissor takedown attempt actually left Lin standing over him roaring with laughter.

  You should break. This is a losing situation.

  Tao was right. Their fighting styles were too similar and Lin was smarter, stronger, and faster. He was able to predict what Roen was going to do before he even thought of it. Slowly, Roen was forced to retreat. He was landing one for every ten against Lin. Every time he tried to break away, the old fox was right in his face. Finally, he made the mistake of overreaching on a left hook. Lin trapped both of his arms, gave him one measured grin, and then slapped him hard across the face.

  “That’s enough,” Lin said calmly. Roen’s face contorted into a snarl before another slap hit him so hard he ended up facing backwards. “I said that’s enough.” Then his master locked him in a choke hold and dragged him to the ground. Feeling himself losing consciousness, Roen tapped Lin’s leg.

  “I don’t know what that means,” Lin’s chuckled. “It’s terrible foreplay though.”

  Just as Roen’s vision darkened, Lin released his grip. Roen collapsed onto his back and heaved huge gulps of air. Lin stood over him and waited for him to recover.

  “Don’t you know that tapping is the universal sign of surrendering during a submission?” Roen gasped in between breaths.

  “Maybe in your professional wrestling, but in combat, we wait until our opponent is dead. I just saved your life by not killing you.”

  And then for the first time, Roen saw something new in Lin’s eyes: sadness. He was actually pitying him! Lin was not one to get emotional, but to show pity was the worst thing he could do to Roen.

  “I have failed you as a teacher,” Lin looked resigned.

  Roen sat up, legs still sprawled on the floor. He gingerly touched the right side of his jaw. “I don’t know. I thought I was doing pretty well, at least for a while.”

  Lin snorted. “I’m not talking about your fighting. You’ve been good at that for years. Never good enough to best a true master, but adequate enough for me to acknowledge you as my student.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  That is the nicest thing he has ever said to you.

  “Really? That’s it?”

  What do you want, a colorful belt?

  Lin put a hand on Roen’s shoulder. “I have given you the skills to be great, but not the mind. Your focus is weak. Too easily angered and you are fighting for the wrong causes.”

  “I’m fighting for the Prophus!” Roen protested. “That’s what you trained me for.”

  “I did not train you to be Master Tao’s puppet.”

  I resent that.

  “Yeah, so do I!”

  “I am no one’s...” Roen snapped.

  “Come,” Lin interrupted him. He turned and walked away, leaving Roen to hurry after him.

  “Where are we going?” Roen asked.

  “I am hungry. I was waiting for you to have dinner but it took you too long to find me.”

  They left the house and walked down the mountain to a line of street vendors in a small market. There, Lin ordered two hot bowls of congee and they feasted on the mushy rice filled with strange-looking herbs and spices. It took Roen a while to get used to using chopsticks with the porridge. Lin enjoyed watching him drop half of his meal onto his lap.

  “Two left hands and ten thumbs,” he smirked.

  “Eating congee with chopsticks is unnatural,” Roen grumbled.

  “Do you have a picture of your son?” Lin asked, mouth full as he slurped the soupy meal.

  Roen pulled out his family picture and showed it to Lin, his chest swelling with pride.

  “Strong legs,” Lin observed. “A good base. Perfect for Hsing Yi.”

  “I’m not letting him anywhere close to the Quasing,” Roen said sharply.

  You do not want to pass me down like an heirloom?

  “I’ll get him a Rolex instead.”

  I come far cheaper. Will only cost your life.

  Lin finished his breakfast and picked his teeth with his fingers in a way only an old person could get away with. “Why not? You do not approve of yourself?”

  “What kind of a father wouldn’t want their kid to fight an alien war. And not only that, they get zero benefits, crappy health care, and a paycheck a paperboy would laugh at.”

  “I see,” Lin replied thoughtfully. “You fight for your wife and son?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why did you leave them?”

  Roen felt his anger boiling up inside again. “First of all, she left me. And second of all, because I had to. Tao told me–”

  “Why is Tao dictating your life? Isn’t that what the Genjix do?”

  Hey, I resent that even more. Tell Lin he is dead to me.

  Roen opened his mouth to tell Lin exactly what Tao thought of his words but his master had already finished his meal and stepped away from the counter. Roen looked down at his three-quarters eaten bowl and then back at Lin already walking back up the hill. Finally, he scooped one last mouthful of congee, paid for both meals, and hurried after Lin.

  “That’s the final lesson you must learn,” Lin said without turning when Roen caught up. “A true master must know when to do the right thing. You are lazy and just listen to Tao.”

  “Shouldn’t you be on his side?” Roen asked.

  “I’m on humanity’s side,” Lin replied. “Always have been. It’s just that the Prophus usually fight with us. Now go away. I am tired.”

  “What about that final lesson?”

  Lin grinned. “That was it.”

  “What does that have anything to do with Tai Chi?”

  Lin shrugged. “It doesn’t. Your Tai Chi is good enough. The lesson is about being a good person.”

  They stopped at the intersection and Lin held out a hand. Surprised, Roen shook it. “After this mission, boy, go home. Your family needs you more than the Prophus do. No matter what, they should come first.” And with that, Lin turned to go.

  “Hey, Master,” Roen called out. “You know, we’re a little short-handed. Think you’re up for helping your old pals out one more time? You know, for old time’s sake?”

  Lin turned around and for the first time that Roen could recall, his smile was genuine and warm. And then he shook his head. “My fight is over. I do not expect to ever see you again, Roen Tan. Good journey, my son. Honor your ancestors and Master Tao. Now, you have a war to fight and I have a retirement to enjoy.”

  Before he could leave again, Roen tapped him on the shoulder. “One last request, Master,” he said as formal and deferential as possible.

  Lin gave him a wary look. “Yes?”

  “Can I borrow some money?”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TIBET

  Huchel, one of our brightest, once inhabited a scientist named Charles Darwin. His vessel claimed to discover evolution, but the truth is, all he discovered was our kind’s millions-year-old methodology. Humans are our children, and are only alive by our mercy. We made them the fittest to live, and for that we are owed everything.

  Zoras

  Enzo looked out the window of the Mi-171 transport as it buzzed over the canopy line of the thick Tibetan forest. Having grown up in the mountains of Costa Rica, he was reminded of his Central American home by this land. Sure, the trees looked different and the sharp biting edge of the Tibetan mountain air was a sharp contrast to the humidity of the jungle, but both were a far cry from the oppressive steel, concrete, and smog of Qingdao.

  You miss your sheltered life at the Hatchery?

  “Incubation had its pleasures, but Hatchery life was no life at all. I am now truly alive, fulfilling my destiny.”

  We shall see. Your actions have been bold and successful to an extent. However, you assume too much risk.
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  “My apologies, Zoras. I shall work harder to earn your favor.”

  A few minutes later, the dense forest opened into a clearing, and the tops of the internment camp buildings appeared. As the transport hovered in the air, Enzo took the time to study the camp below. The entire place was a mess.

  He had assumed the internment camp was run like most Genjix facilities: controlled, uniform, and clean. However, the scene had no semblance of order. The buildings were a sad-looking bunch, made from wood and plaster. Several showed the blackened burns of battle while others seemed decrepit from lack of maintenance.

  The center building was in much better shape than the smaller outlying facilities. It was a two-story structure reinforced with steel beams and riot control windows. Enzo watched as groups of men congregated at the western fence. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that some of the buildings on that side still smoldered. Approximately twenty meters of the fence had been torn apart as well.

  We seem to have come at the right time.

  With the helicopter still five meters from the ground, Enzo jumped out and landed gracefully on his feet. “You,” he called to the nearest officer directing a squad of men clearing wreckage. “Report.”

  Looking irritated, the officer turned and stopped, his mouth dropped open. A man young enough to be his son was barking orders as if a general, and carrying himself as if a god. And in this case, he was right on all accounts. The officer looked him up and down and then noticed the helicopter still hovering in the air.

  He did the rational thing and saluted. “Father.”

  Enzo noted the tiredness around his eyes and the trembling in his hands. His left hand was wrapped hastily and blood seeped through the bandages. This man, a career soldier by his bearing, probably had not slept in over thirty-six hours.

  Enzo saluted back. “What happened here?”

  “Latest attack fifteen minutes ago, an explosion on the western perimeter. Six confirmed enemy dead, thirty friendlies. Seventy prisoners escaped.”

  “Seventy!”

  Newgard has lost control of the situation. That or it is much worse than we anticipated. You were right to come.

  “How many of the escaped were vessels?” Enzo snarled.

  The officer averted his eyes only for a split second. “Fifteen. The Prophus knew exactly where to hit us.”

  Then Enzo frowned and scanned the field. Many of the buildings were damaged, and the ground was scarred from battle, but this couldn’t have been all from one attack. The Prophus had to be precise in their assaults to avoid injuring their own.

  He assumed a softer tone to the officer. “How many attacks have there been?”

  To the officer’s credit, he didn’t bat an eye when he spoke. “Sixteen in the past forty-eight hours, Father.”

  Relieve that fool Newgard at once!

  Enzo reached out and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Your performance is commendable. Get that hand seen to and stand down. Relieve the men in similar states. The remainder will be relieved in a few hours when my men reach the base.” He patted the officer one more time and watched as a wave of relief passed over him.

  “Thank you, Father,” the man breathed before jogging to the fence and calling half a dozen men to follow him to the central building.

  Your die has been tossed. Now take ownership. There is no backing out now. Expect blowback from Vinnick.

  “Palos,” Enzo barked sharply. The head of his bodyguards approached and bowed. “Assume command of this rabble and clean this mess up. Send the men who are injured for medical care and have your team take their place. Seal this section by nightfall, and station guards at twenty meters. Pull all able-bodied men to establish a defensive perimeter until the rest of my forces arrive. Reallocate non-military personnel to double duty that the guards would normally have. I want fighting men to do nothing but fight, guard, and sleep. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Father,” Palos bowed again and signaled to one of his men.

  Enzo stormed into the main building, followed closely by his entourage. The startled guards at the front door stood frozen with terror. The building was just as chaotic inside as outside. Personnel scampered around as if they were still under siege. A quick image flashed in Enzo’s head of Chateau Gaillard. Zoras’ host at the time was one of twenty knights who had held the castle for eight months before it finally fell.

  The right wing of this building was a makeshift infirmary. There must have been fifty men lying on the floor, bloodied and battered. Enzo clicked his tongue in disapproval. This entire triage was a mess. Near the front, officers barked orders to soldiers and engineering crews in a large room serving as a makeshift command post.

  An uncomfortable-looking aide approached him and bowed. “Father Enzo, we heard you were coming at the very last minute. Unfortunately, there have been several unforeseen–”

  “Newgard,” Enzo said in a low, soft voice. “Where is he?”

  The aide stepped aside and gestured down the left hallway. “In the war room, Father. Allow me to–”

  Enzo strode past him down the hallway and barged into the war room, startling the fool commander of this sad camp. Newgard and the three men with him froze hunched over a map.

  Enzo looked each in the eye and spoke one word. “Out.”

  The herd nearly stampeded out the door. Enzo kept his face neutral, but a small piece of him was enjoying the intimidation and terror he inspired as a vessel of the Council. Only Newgard stood erect before him, simultaneously defiant and cowed.

  His eyes met Enzo’s and did not flinch, but the nervous quiver in his voice betrayed him. “Father, this is a pleasant surprise. I thank you for your support. However, everything is well in hand.”

  “Well in hand?” Enzo kept his voice so soft that Newgard had to strain to hear. “How many prisoners have been lost?”

  “Six hundred and thirty–”

  “I don’t care about the humans,” Enzo snapped. “How many vessels?”

  Newgard averted his eyes. “Eighty-four.”

  “And yet you believe matters are well in hand? Even after losing three convoys?

  “Yes, Father,” Newgard stammered. “The Prophus have been raiding us continuously with the aid of the Tibetan Underground. Then a few days ago, they began making incursions into the facility. I have contacted Father Vinnick for additional support, which should be here in a few days.”

  “At the rate you’re going, in a few days, you won’t have any prisoners left,” Enzo replied. “Newgard, I am relieving you of duty. You will report to Commander Palos.”

  Newgard’s eyes flashed, and for the first time, Enzo saw real defiance in them. “Apologies, Father, but I will not abdicate my command. I report to Father Vinnick of the Genjix Council and am out of your jurisdiction.”

  Careful how you tread. Push too softly and you will undermine your position in the Council. Push too hard and you risk conflict with the Council. If you take command of the facility and fail, Vinnick will have every right to remove you from your position and assume your holdings.

  How dare this man question his order! Enzo took a step forward. “I’m on the Council, Newgard, and you will hand over your command.” He turned to Palos. “Send the rest of your men out.”

  Palos bowed and complied. A moment later, it was only Enzo, Newgard, and Palos in the room. Newgard was still standing at attention next to the table while Palos guarded the door. The tension in the air was thick as each waited for someone to back down.

  Perhaps it is best to hedge your bets and allow Newgard to maintain official capacity while you operate in the shadows. That way, a loss will not reflect badly upon you, but neither will a victory. However, a refusal to a member of the Council cannot stand. A lesson must be taught. You must act.

  A line must be drawn. If not, Vinnick and the rest of the Council would believe he was a lion without claws. He could have Newgard detained, but what would that prove? He could order Palos to beat him. That would be humiliati
ng to a vessel to have a human take him to task in such a matter, but the other vessels would disapprove.

  The Blessed Ones would look down upon that and somewhere down the line, it might give humans ideas. If anyone was to do the deed, it had to be Enzo. But would this lesson be clear enough? Strong enough? Would the rest of the Council respect his standing then? Would they fear him? There was only one thing he could do to prove his might and resolve. Without taking his eyes off of Newgard, Enzo took a step back, drew his sidearm, and shot the man through the head.

  No! What are you doing? There are lines that you must not cross!

  “He insulted you, Zoras! I will not tolerate it!

  Madness! Newgard and Zauw are not without rank, and have proven themselves in the past. There will be a reckoning for this.

  “So be it. I will not be handicapped by the Council to do what needs to be done.”

  You are walking on the edge, vessel. While I agree that the Council plays things too safe, there are other factors to consider.

  “Those factors are irrelevant. You even said yourself. Only the final goal is important. The time for half measures is over. Politics should not affect our decisions.”

  Your single purpose of mind is noble, but with experience, you will understand there is more to victory than just winning.

  Enzo holstered his sidearm and watched as Zauw left Newgard’s body and floated just in front of his face, as if trying to scold him. Enzo averted his eyes respectfully. “I offer you the vessel of my trusted commander,” and gestured to Palos, who stood frozen by this sudden boon. Nearly all Genjix operatives hoped to be a vessel, but this must have come as a shock.

  Slowly, Palos knelt. “I serve the Holy Ones,” he said, head lowered.

  Zauw passed by Enzo and flitted around Palos, as if inspecting the flesh of a new horse about to be purchased. Then finally, he moved on top of Palos’ head and sank into his body. Enzo closed his eyes and waited while Palos gagged in pain.

  When he finally recovered, he bent a knee to Enzo. “Thank you, Father, for this blessing.”