The Rebirths of Tao Read online

  However, that was also ten times the number of Quasing estimated to be alive on Earth just ten years ago. It was progress, not the sort Enzo had hoped for, but progress nevertheless. There was another advantage to this: shade teams. Because the threat of extinction was no longer as relevant, the Genjix could afford to take greater risks with their Holy Ones, using them more and more as weapons and spies against their enemies.

  Furthermore, as in the instance of the LDPR, the Genjix could use the currently barely-sentient newborn Quasing to inhabit humans not amiable to the Genjix. After all, how could they object if they themselves were vessels, even if it was forced? Most of the Holy Ones disapproved of this process, but they saw the value of it. This was war, after all, and sacrifices were expected, even from the gods.

  There were side effects to using the non-sentient newborns though. Much like a human baby, the newborns tended to be vocal and uncontrollable. Several of the early vessels who had taken on these newborns were driven to insanity from their constant mewling. It took several years before medication was developed to allow the vessels to filter those sounds out. Even then, they would be dependent on it for the rest of their lives.

  Those Holy Ones are the future, not expendable tools. Do not set a poor precedent and dip into this well too often.

  “Everyone has their place in achieving victory, my Guardian. Myself, the original Holy Ones, the newborns. We will do our best to ensure their safety. However, I believe blessing those in the Russian government who oppose us will help keep the country under our control.”

  We will not tolerate unconcerned casualties among our kind, regardless of whether they are still too young to have become sentient.

  “Your will, Zoras. I will do my best to see to their safety. However, as in the case of all wars, casualties are necessary, regrettable as they may be.

  “All targets blessed by a shade will require twenty-four hour surveillance,” Enzo added.

  The rest of the meeting went more or less as planned. Enzo’s teams were outnumbered badly here in Vinnick’s home region, but this was never a war of numbers. He would defeat the old billionaire at his own game by buying the right people and assassinating the rest.

  “I want a bio of all Federation Council and State Duma members we can purchase,” he said. “Those we can’t, we blackmail. If that’s not possible, we assassinate. Give me a list by the end of the week. As for the LDPR, work the same angle, and then use a shade team if necessary. Is there anything else?”

  The room was silent. Then Amanda looked up at him. “Father, we just received a communication from Councilman Vinnick. He wishes to parlay. This time, while the Russian Parliament is in session. At your convenience.”

  The room was still, with everyone watching what Enzo would do next. He made a fist and cracked his knuckles. The safest thing to do would be to reject any overture and grind out a war of attrition with Vinnick, either politically or through clandestine means. However, it could also be a wasted opportunity. The old man was near defeat anyway. Maybe that assassination attempt was his one chance. When it failed, he realized he had no other alternative and was now truly trying to negotiate peace. Or maybe he was going to try and take Enzo out again.

  How would his people react if he allowed Vinnick to ambush him like a coward, and then give the traitor the privilege of another meeting? No, it would just tell all the Genjix that there were no consequences to attacking the greatest Council member. Enzo’s reputation was more important. He couldn’t show any weakness. There were hundreds of other vessels who would kill to assume his position. He glanced around at the faces looking at him expectantly. How many here in this room?

  None of your Assembly has given you cause. Trust should be rewarded. Distrust likewise. Wandering down that dark path will only make it a self-fulfilling prophecy.

  Zoras was right. The ones in this room were the only ones he should trust implicitly. No one else. Enzo stood up abruptly, masking his grimace and ignoring the pain shooting through his body. “No meeting with the traitor. Set up my first meetings with the State Duma in four days. By that time, I want the names of those in my pocket, and a list of those I need to buy. Warn Vinnick that the State Duma building is mine while I am there. Wander there at his own risk. Get to work.”

  Enzo watched as his Assembly dispersed. These days, it had become almost as dangerous to be part of the Genjix as it was to be an enemy, though he wouldn’t have it any other way. With a world war just on the horizon, and Quasiform nearing its final stages, everyone on the Council was maneuvering for higher standing.

  Conflict bred innovation, after all, and that was doubly true of conflict within. In preparation for the upcoming world war, the aggressive Genjix war machine built up over the past five hundred years had turned on itself, especially now, with the Prophus nearly dormant. Of course the two strongest factions within the Genjix went head to head, and now victory was near for Enzo and his Asian stronghold. However, rules still had to be observed and Vinnick had broken them.

  “Jacob, a moment,” Enzo ordered as the rest of the Assembly filed out. He watched as Jacob walked up and knelt before him. The grandson of a prominent vessel, he had lost his patronage when his grandfather, Sean Diamont, was murdered by the Prophus. He attended the Hatchery late in his youth and was not chosen to be blessed with a Holy One. Instead, he had joined the ranks of the officers and distinguished himself in the war. Eventually, Sean’s Quasing Chiyva, thought to have been lost to the Eternal Sea during the debacle at the Capulet’s Ski Lodge, found his way back to the Genjix and had chosen to bless Jacob.

  The Adonis was a blunt-force instrument, more fanatical than most and possessing a singular devotion rare even among vessels. No one else under Enzo exhibited the same intense will in hunting the Prophus. He blamed the Prophus for Sean’s death and carried a personal vendetta. While that was a useful trait to leverage, the man was often blinded by his hatred. However, give that dog the trail and he would follow it until the ends of the Earth.

  “I have another task for you,” Enzo said, beckoning Jacob to follow him out of the room. “Did you find out anything else regarding our lost Quasiform architect?”

  “Yes, Father. Vinnick was intent on taking Rin to the loyalty haven in Canada. I dispatched a team to intercept her, but she has evaded capture and disappeared.”

  “The Prophus have her.”

  “I had guessed as much. How can you be sure?”

  “Seems some of Vinnick’s faction is still loyal to the true Genjix after all. I want you to take a team to the United States and retrieve Rin personally.”

  That command surprised Jacob. “Father? Have I done anything to displease you?”

  “Not at all, my son. Consider it a favor.”

  “Why would you task me with such mundane work?”

  Enzo pulled up the information in his tablet and showed it to Jacob. The blood drained from his face. “Because it seems Roen Tan is alive, and he has our scientist.”

  10

  Alex

  The entire surface of Quasar is covered by a vast ocean, a primordial soup partially like your ocean and partially like the insides of your bodies. The ocean – I use that term loosely – is thick, almost like quicksand. Quasar is further away from our sun than Earth is from yours, but our sun is nearly twice as large.

  I cannot flash an image to you because sight is a foreign concept on our home world. Quasing inherently do not see. We feel. We absorb. We touch. We merge with each other to create a larger, more singular entity, powered by our individual ideas and experiences.

  In a way, we are not unlike the cells of your bodies that form your whole.

  Tao

  * * *

  Cameron thought mud-walking was stupid. It was the very first Ba Gua Zhang move that Tao had taught him when he was six years old. Deceptively difficult, Cameron had practiced mud-walking counter-clockwise in a circle for two hours a day every day. After three months, Tao felt that his mud-walking was decent eno
ugh to move on to the next step, which was having Cameron mud-walk in a clockwise circle for the next three months.

  Nine years later, Cameron mud-walked with the best of them, flowing through the eight diagram boxing movements as if they were second nature. By now, he had walked this circle thousands – no, hundreds of thousands of times – feeling the energy move up from his dan-tian to the tips of his fingers and then back down through to the ground. He could run through this form unconsciously, in his sleep in fact. He had to, because right now, Tao was lecturing him on Matroid theory.

  If one is invariant, does it have the same or different polynomials?

  “Does it matter if it’s chromatic?”

  Not at all.

  “Tao, I don’t understand why I need to know this.”

  Advanced mathematics opens doors to many fields of study. More importantly, it expands the way you think.

  “Who cares? It’s hard and I suck at it.”

  One day, you might need to draw upon these skills. A good operative must know many things.

  “I’m not going to need to do hard math while on a mission. You even said your Prophus job is to be a secret agent and not someone researching in a lab.”

  In this case, our natural talents are aligned. I think that will be a large part of our success. However, calculus is still basic knowledge you must master. By the way, that was sloppy footwork on that third palm roll body-back.

  “Sorry.”

  What is with that left arm movement?

  “Sorry!”

  Do not apologize, Cameron. Fix it. You are not focused at all. What is wrong with you today?

  Cameron glanced over at Alex leaning on the front porch railing studying him. He looked away, his face turning red. He re-ran that part of the form again, this time with even more force. However, the harder he actually concentrated, the worse he got.

  Stop. We are done for the day. Is that what is bothering you? Alexandra?

  “She keeps looking at me. I don’t know. It makes me nervous.”

  You really are like your father.

  “What does that mean?”

  Never mind. If you want to tell her to stop staring, you should talk to her.

  Cameron stopped in the middle of his form and looked up at her. “Is there something you need?”

  Alexandra, looking inquisitive, walked across the lawn to the edge of the circle where Cameron was tracing. She swept her foot across the worn-out lines. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m training,” he said, suddenly feeling hot and getting the urge to get rid of her as soon as possible. “You’re interrupting me.”

  “That doesn’t look like training to me. You look like you’re doing a funny dance.”

  “I’m running forms, Genjix,” he snapped, saying the last word as if it was an insult.

  That is one way to get her attention, though probably not the kind you wanted.

  “Okay, betrayer Prophus,” she shot back.

  You will never get her to like you if you act so insolent.

  “I don’t like her, Tao!”

  Why do you bother trying to lie to yourself, or more importantly, to me? Ask her what her style is.

  “How do you fight then?” he asked Alex.

  “Samozashchita Bez Oruzhiya,” she replied. “My dad says it’s the best.”

  “No, t’ai chi is the best. My Quasing invented it. It’s the Grand Supreme Fist.”

  “You’re just waving your arms and walking funny.”

  “That wasn’t t’ai chi. That was Ba Gua, and I bet it’s better than Samoz… samsoz…”

  The known name for it is Sambo.

  Their squabble degenerated into a shouting match on the front lawn until Jill and Vladimir appeared from the kitchen. Both of them just stood there and watched as Alex kept making fun of Tao’s style. Why did his mom look amused? This girl was a Genjix! What was she doing here, anyway?

  Things are a little different these days. It seems not all Genjix are bad anymore.

  “That’s not what you always tell me.”

  I do not agree with that assessment either, but it does seem the lines between the two factions have blurred somewhat.

  “I’m going to go finish my training elsewhere,” he said lamely, his ears burning. This wasn’t how he imagined his first conversation with her would turn out. For some reason, since those Genjix came, he had been thinking about her a lot. He hadn’t had a chance yet to talk to her, because the Genjix refugees had stayed locked up in the safe house until this morning. Mom had decided that it was time to trust the refugees and let them upstairs to the farmhouse.

  Now with his dad gone with Uncle Marco, and his mom always running ops, this girl had no one to bother but him. Ten minutes after he had stomped off, he caught sight of her still watching him while he tried to rerun his form. Something about the way she looked at him made him squirm.

  Cameron eventually called it quits and climbed the large tree in the middle of the open field. This was his favorite reading spot. It reminded him of his father. Roen had tried to build a tree house when Cameron first moved here. Cameron had had to remind him that he was no longer eight years old. Still, it made him feel a little better that his old man had made the effort. His father was like that guy whose aim was always a few centimeters off the mark, no matter how hard he tried. But the thing was, he never stopped trying. Cameron appreciated that, even if Roen embarrassed him to no end.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Cameron saw her walking back to the house, and his blood boiled. The worst part was, he didn’t know why he was so mad. For as long as he could remember, Tao had always emphasized being calm and in control. When they were constantly on the run, Tao was there to soothe his many crying nights. When he got pulled out of school, Tao had assured him things were going to be okay. When he was lonely with no one to play with, Tao was there. He had learned to just be calm. His training demanded it. Tao demanded it. And he was good at it. But somehow, this girl – this Genjix – made him so mad just by saying a few words.

  Cameron, it is all right. Perfectly natural, even.

  “I don’t like feeling like this, Tao.”

  Maybe that is what has been missing in our training. I have spent so many years suppressing you. Maybe it is time I try another approach. Stand up and do your form.

  “I’m on top of a tree branch!”

  No kidding. Just do it. Old-frame-Chen. This time, I do not want you to push your emotions down. I want you to keep them close to you. Lift them to your head and let those emotions flow with your qi. Be here but also find the calm in the storm.

  Cameron had no idea what Tao was talking about; he had just proposed Cameron do exactly the opposite of their training. Still, he had been with Tao long enough to know to just follow directions, or at least try to. Standing on the tree branch that was barely wider than his two feet side by side, Cameron began to run through the old form, stumbling a few times on the rough and uneven surface. His form was awful, since he was distracted by his still simmering anger, and the fact that he had to try to maintain his balance high up off the ground.

  After nearly falling off the branch a couple of times, he settled down and worked through the movements. Three-quarters of the way through the form, something unexpected happened; Cameron reached out and grabbed a small branch adjacent to him, except he wasn’t the one to do it. Cameron stopped and stared at his hand.

  “Tao, was that you?”

  Yes, Cameron.

  “How is that possible? I’m totally awake.”

  I think you and I might have found something out, something significant in human and Quasing relationships. This could be a breakthrough. We will need to experiment more. However, this is enough training today. I have another lesson to teach you, something possibly even more important.

  “Yeah? What is it?”

  I want you to climb down and talk to Alex. We are going to practice talking to girls.

  “I don’t –”

  Jus
t go.

  Cameron found her in the living room a few minutes later. She sat on the floor with the pieces of his father’s sniper rifle scattered all around her. She was using a washcloth and a bottle of gun oil to methodically wipe down each of the components. She obviously knew her way around that rifle. He felt a tinge of jealousy when he saw that. That sniper rifle was strictly off-limits to him.

  “Hey,” he said. “What are you doing?”

  Alex didn’t bother looking up. “It’s filthy. You should take better care of your guns.”

  “I…”

  Go ahead. Just like we talked about.

  “Hey, I mean, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

  Alex stopped what she was doing and looked up. There was a long pause. She grimaced, much in the same way Cameron did when Tao told him to do something he didn’t want to do. Finally, she spoke. “Tabs wants me to…” She stopped again. “I’m sorry, too, for calling you a betrayer.”

  He sat down next to her. “Do you know how to put the rifle back together when you’re done?”

  Alex held up the barrel piece. “Your bore is filthy. You have copper fouling.” She held up a rag. “The dagwood sandwich here is bad.”

  For the rest of the morning, Alex helped him clean the family’s entire rifle cabinet. He learned right away that it was one of her pet peeves. She had this urge to always keep guns clean. Cameron thought it was a strange habit, since he always considered gun-cleaning a chore he had to do when he got into trouble.

  “Tell me about your t’ai chi and Ba Gua thing,” she asked after they had finished taking apart and cleaning the last gun. “Tabs says it’s really hard.”

  Cameron’s chest puffed out a little. “It is. Tao says I learned it faster –”

  Easy there. That will not get you anywhere with her.

  “Cameron, lunch,” his mom called from the kitchen. “Get Alex, too.”