Gently placing the empty cup back on its shelf, Yutai hoisted the straps of his rifle over his shoulder. It nestled into place, comfortable and familiar against his back. The cooling vents were on full blast, just as his parents liked it while they slept.
Yutai crept out of the refreshment room and down the silent corridor. He felt guilty about his short time at his family’s home, barely a night’s stay. But it had become the norm for him.
On the left came his parents’ bedroom. His fingers brushed over the sleek control panel beside the door, expecting it to slide open with a familiar hiss. Instead, it flashed red. Locked. It being locked meant neither of his parents was awake.
No goodbyes this time, Yutai thought.
Pressing his ear against the cool surface of the door, he heard the low rumble of his father’s snores. A small smile tugged at his lips as he continued his journey down the dim corridor.
The living space was next — an area filled with entertainment screens and plush sofas, currently steeped in darkness. He moved through it with practised ease, careful not to disturb the carefully placed furniture. The front door was just ahead, but there was one more room he wanted to check before he left for the tower. He tapped on the little panel on the doorframe and it slid open with a whisper. Warmed air spilt out, caressing his face with a comforting heat that was a welcome respite from the chilled air his parents favoured. Pangfua had the heater turned on overnight in their room. He was cocooned in a blanket, soft snores escaping his lips.
Yutai offered a silent prayer, a plea for the Light to protect his brother before he closed the door once more.
Turning his attention to the front door, he opened it and stepped outside, tapping a small touch-screen panel to slide it shut behind him. The satisfying buzz of the locks engaging echoed in the early hours of the coming work-cycle.
Though Yutai usually stayed in his own home in the Kingmaker cantonments, he still remembered the route to the tower from his old home.
Yutai’s boots echoed softly as he began his trek toward the towering silhouette of Yu Tower, always present above the tops of Yu’s short groundscrapers. The narrow streets of the fourth level, clean and perfectly maintained, stretched before him like arteries and connected to the heart of the district. The smooth sandstone walls of the streets were adorned with intricately designed window frames at regular three-metre intervals. Between every few windows was a sliding door, leading to apartment units where most residents were still sleeping in the early hours of the work-cycle.
The day lamps on the left wall of the street flickered to life, their soft glow signalling the end of the sleep cycle and the start of a new day. The inner-west end of District Yu was home to most of its citizens, families of respectable wealth and status. Unlike the wealthy families of the northern districts, these citizens had generational ties to the Emperor’s royal family. If they didn’t have a son or daughter currently serving as a Kingmaker, they did in the past. Once their Kingmaker connection either died or retired, these families were allowed to remain in Yu indefinitely.
At a fork in the corridor, Yutai chose the right path, the quickest route to the tower. As he ventured into the heart of Yu’s financial district, the corridor gradually broadened. The ceiling rose and arched into multi-levelled sides, revealing a bustling interior where people walked back and forth. Offices and corporate buildings lined the corridor, interspersed with a variety of shops yet to open. The smooth sandstone underfoot gave way to grey-tiled cement slabs, the timbre of his steps shifting subtly with the change. The atmosphere was slow and tranquil, with early risers preparing for the cycle’s business in the heart of the district’s commerce.
Yutai moved unnoticed through the sparse crowds of half-asleep Yu residents. For a Kingmaker, this anonymity was a rare luxury, but in District Yu, it was the norm.
Here, the fascination of the Kingmakers was stripped away; many citizens had immediate relatives within their ranks. This personal connection demystified their status. However, outside of Yu, encountering a Kingmaker was a rare and extraordinary experience. Most Kowlooni’s lived and died only hearing legends of the golden-striped Kings. They were not just seen as highly-skilled militia capable of shifting entire political landscapes with their unique talents; they were also viewed as wealthy, eccentric playboys. Whether making appearances as team sponsors in high-stakes zuche games, or found on the top floor of the Mazu City Star Casino, dominating tables with smug confidence, where fortunes were won and lost in the blink of an eye.
They were the living, breathing essence of Kowloon’s legends and myths, as ancient as the city itself.
Yutai’s mind replayed images of his fight against The Ibilis as he journeyed towards the tower, his sleep stolen by an urgent summon from the Emperor. Yutai was certain it was related to his involvement in the events of two nights ago when he had an unexpected showdown against The Ibilis.
If it is for that reason, Yutai thought, then the rest of Keung’s team is surely on their way, too.A mild headache pulsed in sync with the rhythm of the fight replaying in his mind. His left arm ached intensely from The Ibilis almost snapping it in half. He remembered how it felt pushing against the relentless tide of the masked man’s blows, while he effortlessly repelled Yutai’s best fighting efforts, every manoeuvre perfectly predicted, every attack effortlessly parried.
He retraced the narrative in his mind, seeking a crack in the inexplicable flow of The Ibilis’ movements, a rationale that would satisfy his trained instincts. He tried to connect the style to different schools of martial arts, but nothing came to mind.
The Ibilis had moved like a shadow, his every action a mirror to Yutai’s own. Even the question as to how The Ibilis avoided the gunfire in the room, escape through the door, and then ran past the Tien Tao Rioters who were storming the building at that time.
It’s as if The Ibilis had already choreographed his fight against me. Did I show my hand too early? Unlikely…
Every Kingmaker was a master of misdirection in combat, their moves as unreadable as an encrypted code. The training was rigorous, secretive, and extensive, taught by living legends within the martial arts scene. The average Kingmaker knew more fighting forms than the average person could name. Yet, The Ibilis seemed to predict Yutai’s strikes as if reading an open book. It hinted at something more sinister. Some sensory-base cybernetic implant, capable of outperforming even the best fighters, an unknown fighting style, or perhaps something far more frightening…Kingmaker training itself.
Yutai felt a surge of frustration, knowing that despite The Ibilis coming perilously close to capture or death multiple times, he ultimately escaped and claimed victory in the night’s battle. There had to be an explanation, a detail he had missed in the heat of the moment. But as he searched his memories for something to rationalise his defeat, fear stroked Yutai’s gut.
What if The Ibilis is simply that deadly? Would I have even survived the fight if General Denzhen hadn’t intervened?
Yutai never imagined there could be anyone in Kowloon capable of killing a Kingmaker in single combat. The mere possibility unsettled him deeply.
Kingmakers aren’t supposed to fear death from anyone…
Then why am I fearing death from The Ibilis?
His forehead creased as he walked down some steps to the third level.
Before long, the mouth of the Yu tower loomed before him, a colossal portal that was always open, ingesting and releasing a constant flow of life. He walked into the ground floor lobby, a sprawling nerve centre that branched into the lifeblood of their gang — offices, classrooms, weapons vaults, research laboratories, server rooms, dojos, and dormitories.
Yutai wove his way through the lobby, a solitary figure among a sea of Kingmakers walking in pairs.
Navigating into a corridor, Yutai greeted almost every face that waved at him, but no one noticed his uncharacteristic lack of interest in conversation. His journey ended at the eastern set of lifts where he hailed one and waited. The bustle around him seemed unusually vigorous.
I bet it’s because of what happened in Ho Man Ting, Yutai thought. All these lazy Kingmakers who haven’t seen a day of action since graduation are probably answering calls from the Dragons now.
With a ding, the elevator doors slid open, releasing three formidable Kingmakers. Yutai deftly slipped inside the metallic chamber before any others had a chance to share the ride, his finger stabbing the button for the 28th floor, the sanctum of the Emperor himself.
The ascent was swift, but nothing like the pulsating anxiety flowing through him. This was his first summons from the Emperor himself. Kingmakers were seldom called by Emperor Puyin directly; usually, it was the generals who dealt with them on his behalf.
Reaching the 28th level, Yutai stepped into the lobby of the throne room, where the grand double doors welcomed him with open arms. As he passed through the doors and walked down the narrow, red-carpeted hall, he could see Emperor Puyin atop his throne with three other men facing him. The hall was lined with emerald jade pillars adorned with golden dragons spiralling along their lengths, symbolising the unity of the Kowloon through Kingmaker efforts. His footsteps echoed off the walls and pillars, and as he got closer, he saw the backs of the three men more clearly — they were wearing green trench coats, the attire of the Dragons. He clenched his jaw as the magnitude of this meeting dawned on him.
Rows of the Emperor’s elite Manchukuo guards stood rigidly at precise intervals down the hall, their imposing figures casting massive silhouettes against the dark walls. Overhead, additional guards surveyed him from the balconies, their stoic gazes sweeping the floor below. These Manchukuo guards were Kowloon’s most esteemed warriors, their skills unquestioned, forming the steel backbone of the royal family’s protection. They were former Lieutenant Kingmakers, hand-selected by the Emperor for his royal guard. Accepting this position brought massive privileges: significant benefits for themselves and their families, a steep rise in pay, and utmost respect from every Kingmaker, whose station was now below them. However, their lives would be solely dedicated to the protection of the Emperor and his family. A million Kowlooni’s might perish, but the Manchukuo would stand behind the Emperor.
Yutai’s reverie was broken by a clearer sight of the Emperor, sitting regally on his throne. His lustrous Hanfu robes cascaded down the throne steps, their silken waves converging on the sprawling red carpet that stretched across the room, a path to the throne.
At the foot of the throne steps, the three esteemed figures turned their heads at Yutai’s approach. Generals Denzhen, Han Xi, and General Cao — each carrying their distinct weight of history and fame. Especially General Cao, still at the crucible of his legendary status, was a rare sight within the tower.
The sight of the three generals in the same room was indeed a spectacle seldom seen, a constellation of power rarely assembled. Yutai felt the gravity of the moment. Something was unfolding, something significant, and he was standing at its epicentre. Among the three generals, however, one was conspicuously missing — General Qin Shi.
‘Shehui Yutai!’ General Han Xi softly called out as Yutai took his place next to him on the right side. ‘It’s good to see you!’
General Han Xi was Yutai’s favourite general out of the four, but that was considered the basic preference amongst Kingmakers. Everyone adored the man. An old-timer who remained young at heart and never lost his good sense of humour despite going through the hell of the District Rebellions.
‘Likewise, General,’ Yutai stepped forward and bowed deeply to all three generals and then bowed again towards the Emperor. He took a step back into line with the generals.
Yutai noticed Emperor Puyin draped in his worries like a second skin, the usually smooth lines of his face carved deeper with tension. His long, dark goatee was unusually unkempt, strands straying in defiance of the comb’s order, betraying a rare lapse in his meticulous grooming.
He also noticed the Emperor’s advisor, Grand Chancellor Lin Zexu, was absent. It was most suspicious as he seldom left his masters side.
The soft chime of the elevator echoed down the hall and broke Yutai’s train of thought. The low hum of conversation slowly descended into the hall. Yutai turned his head and spotted the figures of Keung, Cheng, Ushi, Tao, and Shing, accompanied by General Qin Shi, joining their ranks.
So, all four generals ARE here, Yutai thought, goosebumps raising the hairs of his body.
The new entrants aligned themselves in a neat row next to Yutai while General Qin Shi stood beside General Denzhen at the other end. Bowing in unison before the Emperor, the room fell into an expectant silence.
Emperor Puyin’s chin remained propped on his hand, an unreadable expression drawn over his face. Yutai knew something was weighing him heavily.
He looks more worried than I thought he’d be, Yutai thought. Perhaps this is about something else?
Usually, Keung’s team didn’t attend important meetings with the Emperor. In actuality, ever since the team assembled last cycle, they had been solely focused on hunting the Yang. Yutai knew The Ibilis’ speech was the only reason why they could have been called.
‘I bear unsettling news,’ the Emperor’s voice suddenly filtered through the room. A timbre, laden with age and heightened by concern, sent a shiver of trepidation down Yutai’s spine. ‘Earlier yesterday, a few hours before the work-cycle, we received a message…from the surface.’
Collective shock rippled through the room. Eyes widened, breaths hitched. Yutai was jolted into silence, his right hand fighting the reflex to smother a whispered gasp. The room felt as though it had plunged into a deep, icy abyss, silence ringing in his ears as his mind struggled to comprehend the enormity of the news.The surface had always been assumed desolate and inhospitable, every human alive thought to be living in Kowloon. While religions guessed wildly what mysteries awaited up there, Kowloon’s secular sciences always pointed to this fact.
The Emperor continued. ‘The surface has contacted us for the first time in history. Neither of us was aware the other existed until very recently,’ the Emperor continued, the magnitude of his words stirring the still air. ‘They also allege an attack from Kowloon, a plague they believe is of our doing.’
‘But…your grace, how could they perceive us as attackers if we didn’t know of their existence?’ General Han Xi’s query sliced through the stunned silence.
‘I don’t know,’ The Emperor said. ‘The name of the city above is the very same name that Dong claimed existed in the Book of Lumen: Hong Kong.’
Yutai could hardly believe it. Hong Kong was the name of the first mythical city Dong wrote about in the Holy Book. One of Dongism’s greatest criticisms was the supposed impossibility of the prophet’s journey to the surface. His four-year travels were thoroughly documented, but sceptics claimed he simply hid for four years and then reappeared, telling everyone he’d returned from the surface. If people from Hong Kong had contacted the Emperor, it would be the first concrete evidence supporting a key narrative from Kowloon’s most dominant religion.
The Emperor continued. ‘And the man I spoke to alleges that diseased corpses have flooded their lakes and rivers. Tens of thousands of them. And it was tracked to have come from here.’
‘Of course…’ General Qin Shi interjected. ‘We have never been entirely sure where our Memorial Pipes go. Dong claimed it lead to some mythical body of limitless water, where bodies eventually float to the Light. If it led to surface civilisations, it would’ve happened a millennia ago. Why now, is the question.’
General Cao spoke up. ‘I could take the Ditu and investigate down the Memorial Pipes.’
‘That isn’t necessary, at least not yet, Cao.’ The Emperor sat up straighter on his throne. ‘For the time being, we have managed to quell suspicions of ill intention on our part, but their leader of the surface has made a list of demands. They want to better understand Kowloon. Our manpowers, our population sizes, our cultures and beliefs. We hope to maintain peace, and so we will comply. Chancellor Zexu is already compiling the requested information.’ The hint of strain in the Emperor’s voice suggested he was wrestling to keep his composure intact amidst the escalating crisis.
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‘Emperor, why is my team here?’ Keung finally voiced the question that had been simmering in Yutai’s mind.
‘If the Yang find out about this, there’s no telling what they will do. I am making a new demand of your team, seeing how reluctant the six of you are with making progress.’
What reluctance? Didn’t we just catch Jian for him?!
‘Forget any lead you have on minor Yang targets. That masked fool has my city in an uproar, I want you to bring me his head within the next 100-cycles! All your team has to show for in the last cycle is killing Jian and turning every goddamned King sour! I want his mask hanging in the Yau Museum of History before my Zhaisheng reaches its zenith, do I make myself clear, son of Denzhen?’
‘Yes, Emperor,’ Keung replied softly. An internal knot of apprehension formed within Yutai as he grappled with the enormity of the Emperor’s demands.
100-cycles? He’s asking for the impossible.
Looking at his generals, the Emperor continued. ‘In these turbulent times, it’s crucial that we present an image of unwavering strength, at least until my Zhaisheng is complete. Then, everything will gradually align. As some of you may know, the lord of district Pik recently passed away. His son is being coronated as the new Lord. Normally, I would not bat an eye, but the East has a history of forgetting who their Emperor is. Denzhen, I want you to ensure there is a Kingmaker presence at the ceremony. Make it clear that our attendance sanctifies the coronation.’
General Denzhen nodded. The Emperor continued. ‘When Dong returned from the surface 800 annui-cycles ago, his confirmation of people on the surface scared Emperor Hongwu into creating outposts around key points of entry between Kowloon and No Man’s Land. These were manned for about 200 annui-cycles before being deserted. Now that we know the surfacers are a threat once more, we need to reestablish the Hongwu Outposts. Cao, go to the records and find out where these outposts were. Take Kingmakers and local gangs and bolster these locations. Kowloon is under secret lockdown — no one enters or leaves my kingdom. I don’t want to stress about infiltration while I deal with the surfacers.’
General Cao nodded his head. The Emperor looked at General Han Xi.
‘Han, assist Zexu with compiling the data requested by the surfacers. We don’t have everything they seek right now. Contact census organisations, data centres, any group or company with statistics on Kowloon. Ignore any pleas for privacy, this is a critical matter.’
General Han Xi nodded. Lastly, the Emperor looked at the eldest Dragon, General Qin Shi. ‘General, ensure Tong Feng completes the construction of the energy plants and farms within the next two centennial rotations. I want them operational as soon as possible! Now, leave me. I need to ponder over these recent developments.’
Yutai noticed the Emperor’s grim countenance. He tried to imagine the myriad thoughts swirling in his mind but realised he would probably never understand the tensions of a ruler protecting almost a billion people.
Keung’s team formed a single line and vacated the throne hall, with the generals trailing behind.
Outside, generals took the lift down. However, the rest of Keung’s team lingered in the lobby outside the throne room, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on their shoulders.
‘What now, sir?’ Tao asked Keung. All six had formed a rough circle, awaiting orders from their silent lieutenant.
‘Sir?’ asked Yutai. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘100 work-cycles?’ Ushi said frustratedly. ‘The Emperor must think we are the granter of miracles!’
‘I can’t believe it,’ Cheng remarked. ‘The surface…they’re actually up there. Not some Dongist metaphor for heaven, there are actual civilisations above us.’
‘Next, it’ll be dancing sewer rodents,’ Shing remarked.
Keung activated his holocommunicator and initiated a call. All six pairs of eyes hovered over the holographic display that shimmered above his wrist. It was a call to Han Shizhou, the Tai Li commander from Yau.
‘Lieutenant? How did the meeting go?’ A digitised voice crackled through the tiny speaker on the holocommunicator strapped to Keung’s forearm.
‘Could’ve been better. Meet me in lecture room 40 on the 13th floor of Yu Tower, an hour before the daylight lamps dim. And bring Jin with you; we have a lot of work ahead of us.’
‘Sounds good, Lieutenant. We’ll see you there. Good day.’
The comms line was cut, and Keung looked up at everyone else who listened to the call.
‘You all heard me. We’re holding a meeting to follow up on this lead in Ho Man Ting an hour before the dimming. Let’s pray to the Light that it leads us somewhere,’ he said, his voice resolute.
Everyone nodded in acknowledgement.
‘Now, get some rest. Steel yourselves mentally. Be prepared for a long, sleepless night ahead.’
With that, they all dispersed towards the various elevators at the end of the hall, some in pairs, others alone, each wrapped up in their own thoughts about the daunting task that lay ahead. But right now, they all wondered how they might kill time until the meeting started, an hour before the dimming.
Before Dong’s birth, Kowloon never slept. The hundreds of thousands of lamps strung across buildings never turned off. People would sleep whenever they felt the need to and stayed awake for as long as their productivity demanded. Each individual was a moon unto themselves, setting and rising on their own accord, depending on their own work and daily needs.
When the great prophet and philosopher Dong Songzhu returned from the surface, he spoke of their universal sleeping times, dictated by a single mystical light that shone on the world. Emperor Hongwu fell in love.
He was fascinated by the enchanting tale of an omnipresent and divine Light governing the rhythms of life. No company-mandated sleep cycles for workers, no cultural and tribal sleep times, no longer sleep cycles for the rich and shorter sleep cycles for the poor; just one single cycle for all. A realm where all beings would rest and work in harmony, unencumbered by the whims of status or circumstance. The collective beat of a single, shared rhythm resonating through every heart.
And so, Emperor Hongwu set out to bring this vision to Kowloon, replacing chaos with unity, disparity with cohesion. He wanted this for his world, and within the year, all lamps were programmed to turn off after a full waking work cycle of 16-hours, and turn back on after a 10-hour sleep-cycle.
In 1026 A.T. 3, not long after Dong’s great return from the surface, all of Kowloon had their eyes open at once and gathered below the thousands of hanging lamps throughout every district. Every level of every street of every groundscraper in Kowloon was filled, everyone looking up at the lamps they had always seen shine brightly and constantly.
They witnessed it dim to a soft orange light, and Kowloon experienced its first twilight. The cityscape, which was once a vibrant tapestry of relentless activity, was now suspended in hushed silence. As the lamps dimmed, so too did the world, its vibrancy giving way to a serenity that seemed almost foreign. It was a major turning point in the public perception of Dong, now taken seriously as someone who could potentially transform Kowloon forever.Everyone made their way back home that night, and for the first time ever, all of Kowloon slept together.
****
‘Have you searched the homes of her immediate family? In-laws, cousins?’ Yutai intoned into his holo, holding his wrist near his mouth for clear communication. Opposite him, Shing lounged nonchalantly, his outstretched legs crossed atop the table of the smoky dama den. He toyed with the smoking pipe in his hand, exhaling slow rings of smoke that danced lazily in the dim light. In the middle of their table was a slim, tall glass fixture. Smoke spiralled upwards from a clear liquid in the bottom, feeding into flexible pipes for passing around.
‘My Black Jackets have turned every district and sub-district upside down. I’m up to my neck with these bloody doctors.’Shing listened on the conversation about another scientist from the late Dr Chinh’s team, gone missing.
‘I’m certain Dr Jode is dead, Yutai,’ the Aunt continued. ‘Dr Chinh went missing the exact same way until he was found the way he was.’
‘You said she had lapses in her sanity during the expedition? Can you elaborate? Because I suspect she ran away, not that she was killed,’ Yutai suggested.
‘Dr Jode was Chinh’s harshest critic during their time at the dam. Recall how I mentioned Dr Chinh thought the dam might fail within a few annui-cycles? Well, Dr Jode’s calculations made her believe they had at least a hundred annui-cycles. This difference led Jode to sway many others in the team against Chinh. In the end, only Chinh believed his own calculations, while the rest of the camp rallied behind Jode. But there was another problem: Jode stopped taking her medication during the expedition. It kept her schizophrenia in check. God knows why she did that. When she returned, she was on the verge of stage five No Man’s Paranoia, and unfortunately, her mind has been resistant to therapy. After Chinh died, she became convinced she was next, and that the Black Jackets couldn’t protect her. She screamed and shouted every day from her guarded safehouse that she needed Kingmakers. Then, poof. Yesterday, during a guard change, she went missing.’ ‘Ask her if a Black Jacket could’ve helped her,’ Shing mouthed to Yutai, barely above a whisper.
Nodding, Yutai fixed his gaze to Shing as he relayed over the line, ‘And you’re absolutely certain none of your Black Jackets helped her escape?’
‘I’m certain,’ Aunt Tong explained over the line. ‘I’m not saying that my ranks are immune to compromise, but if there’s someone Dr Jode wouldn’t trust, especially in her paranoid state, it would be one of her Black Jacket guards. She never hid how incompetent she thought they were. She practically hated them!’
‘I see…’ Yutai responded while Shing was deeply absorbed in the fragrant smoke from his pipe. Shing met his gaze briefly, shrugged non-committally, and then tilted his head back, releasing another plume of smoke into the air.
‘There’s one thing I thought I may ask,’ Yutai probed. ‘Did the doctor have any connection to district Ho Man Ting? Or more specifically, Ho Man Ting University? A professor friend, a former student, colleague even?’
‘The doctor had connections to professors in her field from every major university. I can’t say who she specifically knew from HMTU.’
Yutai sighed. I don’t think the Aunt will know much more.
‘Okay Aunt, thank you. We’ll be back in Kam Shan very soon to track down Dr Jode. She may know more about Dr Chinh, too.’‘My best bet is that she was headed towards District Yu to search for your tower,’ Aunt Tong said.
‘Well, it’s been less than a work-cycle since she vanished, I don’t think it’ll be too hard to catch up to her. We’ll see you soon, Aunty.’
‘Lovely. Thank you, handsome.’
The holographic image on his wrist flickered and compressed back into its small recess, the final fragments of the digital voice fizzling out. Yutai sighed deeply, his arm dropping to rest on the table as he extended his other hand to receive the pipe from Shing, who put his legs down off the table and leaned forwards to hand it to him. Yutai pulled deeply from the pipe, his lungs expanding with the fragrant smoke, burning the back of his throat. The room seemed to pause momentarily as he exhaled two hefty plumes of smoke through his nostrils and mouth, which coalesced in the air above them before gently fading away.
‘So,’ Yutai began, his voice curling through the smoke-filled space above the table. ‘A group of scientists go into No Man’s Land to investigate Chuan Wan Dam. They come out with fractured minds, everyone seemingly contentious with Dr Chinh. Why? Because they all thought he was a madman, saying Kowloon will be destroyed very soon because of the dam. Scientist-turned-doomsday preacher. Is something sounding familiar about this?’
‘No.’ Shing shook his head as gestured with his fingers for the pipe.
Yutai handed it to him, resting his head on his fist, deep in thought. Shing glanced at him, raised a brow, and took a long pull from the pipe.
‘Dong’s mythical lost canon. What do you know about it?’ Yutai asked.
Shing’s brow raised even higher. ‘Dong’s lost canon? I know that it’s a myth. A legend that many adventurers have perished searching for. And according to these legends, Dong wrote a trilogy of Holy Texts before his death, renouncing everything he wrote in the original Holy Canon. The legend says the manuscripts were hidden deep in the Huang Wildlands, where the Yang supposedly found them after the rebellions.’
‘Precisely. This mythical canon is said to be vastly different from the Book of Lumen, the Book of the Redeemer, and the Book of Memory. The trilogy we know speaks of optimism and hope that God will one day forgive us and return us to the surface. The Lost Canon, however, speaks of Dong’s hopelessness and God’s abandonment.’
‘Yeah, so what?’
‘Come on Shing, haven’t you figured it out?’
Shing took another drag from the pipe, blowing the smoke into Yutai’s face. ‘Nope.’
Yutai crinkled his nose, waved the smoke away, and leaned over the table.
‘Shing, you idiot. These are the myths the Yang obviously believe. And one of these myths is that Dong prophesied Kowloon’s imminent destruction. The controversy comes from what Dong said we must do: immediate evacuation. No prayers, no spiritual enrichment, no begging God for forgiveness. Straight action; exodus to the Light’s domain on the surface. And that’s what the Yang have been running around telling people.’
‘Okay, I’m starting to see what you mean. The Yang believe we must escape to the surface to fulfil Dong’s true prophecy. Okay, I’ll bite, it does seem like Chinh and the Yang have common motivations. So, are you saying the Yang didn’t kill the doctor? Because that also doesn’t sit right with me.’
‘We’re too early to write anyone off our suspect list. But I think what happened to the doctor is not as black and white as we thought. That guy who picked up my call thinking it was Dr Chinh obviously knew him, and expected him in Ho Man Ting Square. But the doctor had already been dead for almost a cycle.’
Shing stayed silent for a moment. He looked around the outdoor area of the dama den. Various patrons milled about, conversing and laughing from nearby tables and booths. The shop owner, a small lady who had been running the establishment for many years, was behind a counter talking to a group of five friends who were paying for a table to sit at. They were at a dama den in the south side of district Yu. Kingmakers were regular patrons here, and so Yutai and Shing’s presence went unnoticed.
Yutai’s holocommuncator’s timer rang. It was an hour from the dimming of the lamps for today’s work cycle.
‘Alright Shing, let’s go to Keung’s meeting. I hope he’s cooked up some strategy.’
‘If he did and it’s actually good, we’ll know it was Cheng’s idea.’
****
‘AH! My finger!’ shrieked Tao for the fourth time.
‘You okay up there?’ Ushi asked as he looked up at the lower half of Tao’s baggy pants as he stood on the top rung of the ladder, the top half of his body above the ceiling and inside the attic. The tile panel Tao removed to gain access to the space above the ceiling stood leaning against the bottom of the ladder.
‘Oh, thank the Light for you two beautiful souls!’ gushed the young store owner. ‘It’s been so hard working in the heat since the cooling systems stopped working! I am glad you Kingmakers passed by when you did, I thought I’d just about start melting,’ The young lady clasped her hands together in appreciation as she stood beside Ushi, watching Tao’s lower half standing on the ladder. There was sounds of metallic banging from the darkness.
‘FUCK! My finger!’ Tao shrieked again, his voice echoing from within the attic.‘Quit your squawking and get on with it, Tao!’ Ushi reprimanded, his deep voice bouncing off the store’s ageing walls. ‘If it weren’t for the fact I’d probably get stuck climbing through that hole, I’d be up there myself.’ He tossed a sideways glance at the young woman to see her reaction, his muscles flexing in a somewhat exaggerated display of strength. His theatrics went unnoticed by the store owner as she remained looking up at Tao.
‘Whatever, brother,’ came Tao’s muffled retort from above, punctuated by clanging noises. ‘I doubt you have the cognitive capacity to comprehend, let alone repair, a G53 cooling system. These machines are ancient! No offence miss.’
‘Actually, the Emperor has offered all the shops free upgraded cooling systems. But since we’re on the 7th floor, the terrace above needs to be taken apart to install the new one. The cooling company quoted me 100,000 Hongs for the installation. I can’t afford that!’
‘Bastard cooling companies…’ Ushi muttered to himself, forcing a sympathetic comment, just loud enough to make sure it was within earshot of the lady.
‘AH!’ Tao shrieked again. Ushi rolled his eyes. ‘What is it this time?’
‘I-I think there’s a nest of sewer rodents up here!’ Tao’s voice stuttered, disgust palpable in every syllable.
‘Yeah right, we’re not in Eastern Kowloon, fool. You probably just found a mirror.’
The young shopkeeper couldn’t help but stifle a giggle, her eyes gleaming with amusement. Seizing the moment, Ushi turned his charm to full throttle. ‘Apologies, I have no clue how my friend here sees sewer rodents in the cleanest shop in the district. I swear, the only sewer around here is his mouth, and the bullshit factory inside it!’ His words were met with a chorus of laughter from the shopkeeper. A sense of satisfaction unfurled in Ushi’s chest.
However, their momentary mirth was abruptly cut short. A strangled cry from Tao filled the room, this time tinged with genuine fear. Ushi’s heart leapt as he watched Tao’s black-gloved hand whip down from the ceiling, snatching his holstered hand-cannon and hopping into the inky blackness of the attic.
Ushi’s brows pressed together as the store became quiet. ‘Tao?’
The shopkeeper took a step back. ‘Is your friend okay?’
As they both stared within the void of the removed tile panel, bursts of white light erupted and pulsed from above. It was the discharge of Tao’s RS4 hand cannon. Ushi took out his hand cannon and lunged for the ladder, his free hand seeking purchase on the cold rungs. ‘Tao! What’s going on?! I’m coming up!’
The store turned into a whirlwind of action as Ushi began frantically climbing up the ladder. The storekeeper was already back behind the counter, hiding.
He’d ascended half way when Tao’s head emerged from the darkness above, looking down at Ushi with a mischievous smile. The light from the visor of his cap shone brightly into Ushi’s eyes, blinding him. ‘Fuck, man! Turn those floodlights off!’
‘Oh, sorry,’ Tao tapped on the side of his peaked cap and switched it off.
‘Sorry about that Ushi, but there really were sewer rodents. Freaking huge ones, too! Here, look,’ Tao reached out his arm somewhere from the darkness and dragged out a massive dead sewer rodent by the tail, waving it near Ushi’s face. Smoke trailed from the cauterised wound on its seared head, half of it missing.
‘Disgusting, Tao! Get that thing out of my face!’ Ushi recoiled, gagging. He jumped off the ladder as the shopkeeper noticed the rodent and squealed from her hiding spot behind the counter. Tao chuckled from the attic. At last he stopped waving the massive rodent and studied it, his delight at his discovery incongruous with the grim nature of the find.
‘Look at the size of this thing, it’s huge! I’ve never seen rodents even half this size in East Kowloon. Even in Tai Sheung, rodent central!’ Tao’s voice dripped with morbid fascination. He looked amazed. But Ushi wasn’t sure if this was cause for intrigue, or worry.
‘But we’re not in Tai Sheung. We’re in Yu, the Emperor’s district, away from that shit. This isn’t meant to be here, Tao. Let alone something that size. Yezu Christ, what have they been eating?!’
‘I don’t know, but I know why the cooling system is busted,’ Tao looked away into the darkness of the attic, Ushi even forgetting about the cooling systems they were here for. Tao vanished once again into the abyss, the sound of his grunt echoing, followed by the rhythmic pounding of his tools on metal.
Ushi stared up at the black void blankly, the young woman was peaking from over the countertop warily. He was about to assuage the terrified shopkeeper, ready to suggest calling an actual G53 technician instead of a pair of wayward ruffians, but the comforting sound of the cooling system turning on silenced him.
kkkzt… MMMMM…
A low, grumbling purr reverberated through the tiny shop as the cooling vent spluttered to life. Ushi expelled a sigh of relief, feeling the tension bleed from his shoulders. Tao’s head reappeared through the opening of the ceiling.
‘Rodent was jammed in one of the gears at the back,’ Tao explained to his partner. ‘I’ve cleared out the nest, although it’s too cramped for me to check for openings. Best to call a professional about this,’ Tao projected his voice to the counter where the shop keeper was still hiding. ‘Or else the shop may have more unwanted guests.’
He began climbing down from the ladder. When his head was just below the ceiling, he gestured to Ushi for the ceiling tile. With one hand, he grabbed the removed tile leaning against the ladder and raised it to Tao, who at first tried grabbing it with one hand as Ushi did. It almost slipped from the weight, but Tao quickly caught it with his other hand and heaved it through the ceiling. Aligning all corners, he softly dropped it into place and let out a sigh.
He hopped off the ladder as silently as a dusk-cat and brushed the palms of his gloves, creating a small storm of dust in front of him.
‘Ma’am, it’s safe to come out now,’ Ushi announced, his tone light. ‘Your cooling systems are working. And damn, are they loud! If you do get a new system, try the Hiyazaki models. They don’t rumble as these do.’
‘Okay, calm down you salesman,’ Tao said. ‘Look at the time, we’re five minutes past the dimming. Let’s get to the tower before Cheng gets mad at us.’