Chapter Thirty-Eight

Epilogue

 

I like to think that Ella and I have succeeded. I have achieved my goals, and have provided Ella with a path to hers. The journey to this outcome may not have been anticipated or even desired, but the reward cannot be disputed.

I have regained my standing with the Quasing and am now responsible for our salvation. Ella is alive and prospering, and has access to a life she could only have dreamed of. One day, I am sure she will see the wisdom in all that I have done.

For now, I am content with where I am and insist on remaining with this vessel.

Io, Vessel debriefing to Genjix Internal Affairs after Ella Patel’s defection in Tokyo. Summary judgment leading to allowing Holy One to remain with the vessel. Forced transfer deemed unnecessary as of this time.

 

Roen had been arrested many times in his life, and getting arrested by the Japanese was by far the politest and most pleasant of those experiences. When police reinforcements found them shortly after the Genjix escaped, they were whisked directly to the hospital, where they were treated and seen to humanely for several days. Roen even got fitted for new dentures. Then they were escorted to the cleanest prison cells he had ever seen.

Roen was put in a cell with the nicest old geezer he could ask for in a cellmate. The guy was ex-yakuza, so the two of them had a lot to talk about. It was a good thing Ohta belonged to another family, or he would have been obligated to try to kill Roen in his sleep, he had said. Roen wasn’t sure if Ohta was joking or not. He decided not to pry.

He spent much of his time sleeping, got caught up on his reading, and even took up calligraphy. During the day, he played games and ping pong, and sang karaoke at night. All in all, Roen’s stay in prison was all sorts of pleasant.

His vacation ended two weeks later. Roen was taking his post-lunch nap when there was a polite knock on his cell door. The door being made of iron, the knocking reverberated through the cell. It still took half a dozen polite knocks for him to stir.

He sat up, stretched his arms toward the ceiling and turned his torso back and forth. He stood up, patted his cellmate on the shoulder as he wedged past him, and waved at the officer who was looking at him through the open slit.

“Good afternoon, Souta.”

The guard bowed, so deep that his head disappeared from view. “You have visitors, Roen-san.”

The cell door unlocked with a deep, hollow thunk, and then rattled as it slid open. Roen adjusted his food-stained shirt. Other than the very nice doctor who made sure he didn’t keel over, he had very few visitors. Whoever was visiting him now was probably a government official or attorney, or if he was lucky his favorite person in the world.

Today was his lucky day.

The prize behind door #1 opened to reveal Jill Tesser Tan, standing with her hands sternly resting at her hips. If she was happy to see him, it didn’t show on her face. Roen grinned from ear to ear and gave her an enthusiastic double five-finger-spread-out wave. “Hi honey, thanks for bailing me out.” Then he noticed the large entourage of old men standing behind her. “Who are your friends?”

Jill started from left to right. “This is the United States Deputy Secretary of State, Admiral of the Seventh Fleet, Japanese Minister of Internal Affairs, Minister of Defense, the Deputy IXTF director…” The list went on and on. By the time she was finished, Roen was pretty sure they could hold their own summit right here in his cell.

“All that for me?” he finally said.

“That’s what it took to get you out of jail,” she snapped. “Come with me.”

“Hang on,” he said, hurrying back into his cell. “Let me say goodbye and get my calligraphy.”

“Your what?”

Roen didn’t bother trying to explain. He retrieved his drawings, gave Ohta one last bro-hug, shook Souta’s hand, and left the cell for the last time. As he was being escorted out of the wing, several inmates shouted their farewells. Some told him to visit when he got the chance. Others offered to visit him once they got out. That one glance Jill shot him was enough to know to keep from extending that invitation.

They entered a holding room, where Jill thanked and shook hands with all the dignitaries and officials. It took a little longer for all of them to say goodbye than one would think, since every single one of these people wanted a photo op with her. Although she was retired, Jill was still one of the most important and powerful people in the world.

When they were finally alone, she whirled on him. Before he could say a word, Roen’s wife threw herself in his arms and gave him a bone-crunching embrace.

He hugged her back, with reservation. “Ribs still cracked,” he croaked sharply while his mouth was buried in her hair.

After a solid five minutes of the best hug he ever had, Jill pulled back and gave him the eye. She glanced at his chest and poked. “Is this the cracked rib?”

“No,” he replied. That was the wrong answer.

She poked him again. “Right there?”

Roen bit his lip. That one was a little closer. A wince nevertheless escaped. “Maybe.”

She poked once more. “Serves you right for starting an international crisis.”

“The mission got a little wild,” he admitted, taking his wife’s hands, mainly because he liked holding them, but also to make sure she didn’t poke him again.

“You were supposed to babysit Ella Patel,” she continued. “Not go traipsing off to a foreign country. You not only got tangled up with their organized crime, Roen, you also went to war with the police.”

“That was unintentional.”

“You were supposed to avoid the Genjix at all costs.”

“That couldn’t be helped.”

“You attacked a military base.”

He held up a finger. “Technically, civilian defense.”

Jill jabbed him in the ribs again. “You could have gotten killed, damn it.”

“What about you?” he said defensively. “You didn’t tell me you were going to go off and retire the second I took a mission.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you comparing my retirement to nearly kicking off World War IV in a neutral country?”

“Hardly World War IV,” he muttered. Then for the first time, Roen noticed the tightness around Jill’s eyes. A tsunami of guilt washed over him. He was an inconsiderate idiot. She had probably thought him hurt or dead. Thought of him lying in a ditch somewhere bleeding out from a gunshot wound or a heart attack or falling down the stairs. At his age, all of those were equally likely to kill him.

“I’m sorry, hon.” His voice broke. “You’re right. I got carried away. I should have called for backup or help or anything. I was just a few steps behind Ella the whole way, and thought I could do it.” He bowed his head. “I thought I still had it.”

“Oh Roen, you big lug,” said Jill, embracing him. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

“See, I told you I didn’t need the retrieval team.”

She smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “That’s because you were already in jail by the time they arrived, dummy. The retrieval team wasn’t dumb enough to try to break you out.”

“I would have.”

“Cameron was planning on it if I couldn’t secure your release,” she admitted. “Like father, like son.”

“He’s a good boy.”

They stayed there for a while longer, swaying together as if dancing to a silent song, letting their hearts beat together in rhythm. Roen cupped the back of her head, blew away the stray wisps of hair, now mostly gray with just streaks of brown.

He thought about the decades they had been together, and how the world around them changed, and how they had changed with it. They were unrecognizable now. The world they had lived in when they first met was long gone. Yet through it all, Roen had loved Jill, and she had loved him. No matter how far apart they were, no matter how difficult things got, or how perilous and hopeless the situation became, their love for each other was always there, always strong. It may have been tested, but their love had never broken.

Jill transitioned from their embrace and wrapped her arm around his waist. “Let’s go home.”

Roen rested his arm on her shoulder, and they walked toward the exit. They leaned on each other as they strolled through the prison hallways. Roen waved at the guards, shook hands with the warden, and gave knowing stares to a few hard-looking men practicing aikido in the play yard.

“I taught them a thing or two,” he said smugly.

“I’m sure you did, dear.”

A black car was waiting for them outside the prison. Roen looked back one last time before getting inside. As he climbed in the back, he noticed the reinforced windows and armored lining, the overlapping plating on the floor designed to protect against bombings. This wasn’t just a normal ride, so he wasn’t too surprised to find two familiar and not necessarily welcome faces sitting across from him.

He waved at the one on the left. “Hi, Liesel.”

Jill’s long-time assistant – now former assistant – offered him a curt nod. Liesel never really cared for him. Tolerated him more like it. “Roen.”

He turned to the person sitting next to her. “Hi, Angie. Congrats on your promotion. How’s your first few weeks on the job?”

Angie – the new Keeper – did not return the warm greeting. “Off to a rough start, thanks to you. Nothing like a crisis to kick off an administration.”

“Thank you for taking time away from your busy schedule to see me get released from prison,” he said cheerfully.

“This isn’t a social call,” she replied curtly. “We need–”

“How are the rest of my people?” he asked.

Irritation flashed on the new Keeper’s face. She looked as if she were going to dress him down, but changed her mind. “They’re all out. Hekla and her team are rotating off the line for the next three months. Josie is recuperating in a hospital in Sydney. She’s already filed her retirement papers. You’re the last one, Roen.”

“Good. What about Tarfur and Nabin?”

“Tarfur was sent back to Finland. Nabin’s been in cold storage ever since your arrest. We’ve made arrangements to have him flown back to his family in Atlanta.”

Roen nodded solemnly. “I’ll need to write letters to their families.”

Angie shook her head. “That will not be possible or appropriate. You are not even supposed to be here, Roen.”

“But I’m–”

This time she did cut him off. “Shut up, Roen. We have more important things to worry about than condolences.”

He had known Angie since she was a little girl. She had never been the warm and fuzzy type to begin with. She was probably even colder and even less fuzzy now that the Keeper had regained her position as the leader of the Prophus. There was also the fact that the Keeper hated Roen’s guts, and the feeling was mutual.

He crossed his arms and leaned back. “I see you’ve inherited the Keeper’s sunny disposition. Very well, what’s on your mind, mighty Keeper?”

“I trust you did not reveal anything to the Japanese authorities,” said Liesel.

Roen snorted. “Come on, I’m a professional. Ex-professional.”

“If you can call it that,” muttered Angie. She gave a start and withered under Jill’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Jill.”

“I trained you better than that, Keeper,” said Jill.

Roen couldn’t help admiring how beautiful his wife looked, and sounded. God, he loved that woman.

“We need to know what happened to the girl,” said Liesel. “This Ella Patel.”

“She went with the Genjix voluntarily.” Roen became thoughtful. “I’m not sure, but she may have done so only to save our lives. Shura and the yakuza were about to execute us. She made a deal with them to let us live in exchange for her cooperation.”

Angie cursed. “Do you know where the girl is now?”

“Probably in the heart of Genjix territory. Way out of our reach,” shrugged Roen. “Why, what’s her significance?”

Angie exchanged glances with Jill, who nodded, and then signaled to Liesel. “Show him.”

Liesel brought out her tablet and pulled up several files. She handed it to Roen. “It took a while to piece everything together, but we finally found out what the Bio Comm Array does, and how it works. We also uncovered what it has to do with Io.”

Roen skimmed the report. His eyes widened as he handed it back to Liesel. He whistled and put his arm around Jill’s shoulders. “Well, it looks like you have your work cut out for you over the next few years. I for one am really glad I’m retired. Good luck!”

 

Shura stepped through the outer gate of the abandoned estate and scanned the premises. It was quiet, peaceful. A little itch in the back of her head told her this would be the perfect place for an ambush. If it were her, she would put a shooter to her right behind the parking structure, one in the second-story window directly above the main entrance – for additional cover – and the last in the thickets to her left where the ground sloped downward. The ground there formed a tiny ravine that became a stream after rain. Shura used to play Genjix agent there as a little girl.

It was a lifetime ago. Back when she went by another name, one that she hadn’t dared use since her parents had died. No, they were killed, murdered by their rivals. It had taken most of her life, but the deed was done. She had avenged them after all these years. Setting foot back onto her homeland was a sign of her triumph and revenge. Walking through the front gates of her ancestral home was just a victory lap.

Today, Shura not only claimed Russia as her territory within the Genjix, she had also reclaimed her name. She could finally be Alexandra Mengsk again. “I am home, papa,” she said quietly. “Finally free to be my true self. I will reclaim our family’s glory, and then I will take it to heights greater than we could ever dare dream.”

Are you done?

“I am just getting started.”

Finish quickly. Taking an encore after the first act is in poor taste. Act like you have won before.

“Let me have this, Tabs.”

Shura entered the main building, past the large double doors with her family’s emblem, the paint long since flaked off, and into the foyer. She was greeted by the twins, two massive staircases that curved to the second floor. As a child, she had spent hours gazing from the top banister, waiting for her papa to come home after his many business trips. He would always bring gifts, exotic treasures from other parts of the world. She looked up at the ceiling. The giant chandelier she had nicknamed the Glass Moon as a child was gone, probably fallen or stolen over the decades.

Shura toured the decrepit mansion, stepping into her memories back when times were simpler and her worries less lethal. She walked through the overlarge dining room with the long dining table where her mama would host dinner parties. The back courtyard with the garden and the fountain, where the statue of a Cossack stood ready, his curved sword pointing toward the sky. The shooting gallery where Shura had first learned to shoot at the age of four.

She continued back inside the mansion and up one of the twins. She stepped through her bedroom, which was actually three smaller rooms linked together. Her bed was still there, at least the frame. The canopy had caved in years ago, and rats had eaten most of the rest. Her tea set and small tables mostly now rested in tiny shattered pieces. Some of her dolls remained, although they all looked more like decayed corpses than a little girl’s best friends.

Last, Shura went to her father’s study, the true heart of the home and the place where he had run his financial empire, hosted cigar sessions with government officials, where he had strategized with other high-ranking Genjix. She stood in the middle of the room and spun in a slow circle.

This was a place filled with fond memories. That torn high-back chair in the corner was where he used to read to her before she went to bed. The small table next to the wall of bookshelves was where he taught her to play chess. She had written her first sonata lying on her belly on the rug next to the fireplace.

Shura walked to the nook and peered out the window overlooking the mansion’s inner courtyard. The giant beech tree remained, taking up the entire view of the window with its branches extending outward in every direction.

Her father hated that tree. Her mother loved it deeply and spent hours reading under its shade. Shura’s memory of her mama was hazy. She just remembered a beautiful, gentle woman who commanded every room she entered. A woman who moved with the grace of a falling leaf, who was equally skilled dancing the waltz or with the saber. This mansion was her family’s ancestral home.

Shura turned and studied the library once more, taking in each detail as her gaze swept the room. Yes, there were many happy memories here, but this was also a room filled with shattered dreams. In this room, her papa had met and declared his allegiance to Vinnick. Vinnick was going up against Enzo, Zoras’s previous vessel, for leadership of the Council and of all Genjix. That marked the beginning of the end of her family.

It was in this room that Enzo’s men had arrested her father. She walked to the window and looked outside. The weeping willow next to the lake was where they had shot her mother during the family’s escape. And it was inside that gazebo where Shura, newly embedded with Tabs, had killed her first human to save her father’s life.

This estate was the source of all her happy memories, but where her life had fallen apart as well. Shura took a deep breath and let the cold air burn her nostrils. She exhaled forcefully, pushing out of her body the last childish attachments she had clung to.

“Now I am done, Tabs.”

Bury your dead and move on. There is still much to do.

Tabs was right. The past was dead. Dwelling on it served little purpose for the future. Shura hurried down the stairs. She was met at the front door by Bashira Nishiki and a dozen of her newest Genjix Russian direct reports, who were waiting patiently for her orders. They bowed in unison.

“Your will, Adonis?” asked Popov, the lead architect.

“You may begin demolition of the mansion. I want the grounds excavated within the month, and my new headquarters ready for operation by year’s end. Spare the large beech tree. Under no circumstance should it be harmed.”

She signaled to Bashira to follow. Shura had taken the heir of the Aizukotetsu-kai under her wing as her protégée. The next step for the girl was to earn a Holy One, one who would be loyal to Tabs and Shura. The girl was raw but talented. If she had had a proper upbringing, she may have survived the Hatchery. It was too late for that now, but her connection with the yakuza was an important step in Shura’s plans.

Both India and Russia were now hers. Soon Japan would be as well. That would mark her within the top ten – perhaps five – most powerful and influential Adonis vessels in the world, well within a stone’s throw of the grand prize. To climb any higher at this stage, however, would be a much more difficult task. Standing at this level was a different sort of game, one that required more than territory and brute force.

One step at a time. You have surpassed my already-lofty expectations, my daughter. Take this time to consolidate your domain. The next phase of our ambition can wait.

A small smile emerged on Shura’s face as she walked by the bulldozers rumbling past. A moment later, the loud crashing of falling walls and caving roofs began to sing through the otherwise quiet morning.

“We shouldn’t wait too long, Tabs,” Shura thought to her Holy One. “Weston knows we’re coming for him next. Unlike Rurik, he will not underestimate me. He’ll be ready.”

 

Ella hated to admit it, but the life of a Genjix vessel wasn’t half bad. In fact, it was positively posh. After the events of Tokyo, she was whisked away to Shanghai. Within a day, she was given a bonkers apartment on the 109th floor of the Shanghai Tower, and a complete staff waiting on her every whim. A security detail was attached, although she suspected that had more to do with keeping her in line than it did with protecting her. This was the heart of Genjix power, where vessels were looked up to as almost divine beings. From that moment on, there was very little Ella wanted for. All she had to do was make Io available for whatever work the Genjix required of her.

As for Io, to Ella’s extraordinary surprise, the Quasing had blossomed right before her eyes, figuratively. Ever since they had met, Ella had known Io to be insecure, indecisive, pensive and – to be honest – sort of an asshole. However, as soon as she was placed in her element, working with the massive bio-comm receivers, which honestly looked like green and purple organs the size of buildings submerged in gooey red liquid in gigantic glass vats, Io became an entirely different alien.

She became decisive, competent, self-assured. The Genjix had provided her with a veritable army of scientists and engineers, and she organized and commanded them efficiently, like a captain of a battleship. Within the first few weeks, Io had all of the raw organic data of the bio comm facilities sequenced. Ella was shocked to learn the subspace communication signals were living creatures, their raw data imprinting onto the mindless Quasing living within the giant vats in each Bio Comm Array facility. Once imprinted, these Quasing were aggregated and then sent to Io in Shanghai by the tankers to compile into plain messages. The first message, less than two hundred words in Mandarin, required one oil tanker and six thousand Quasing to decipher.

This process went on for months. Io explained that in the past, she would work with thousands of other Receivers to process the data rapidly. Now, working by herself, it would take years. Still, that dribble of information gave Ella the chills, the exact opposite reaction from the rest of the Genjix.

As the weeks turned to months, Ella grudgingly became comfortable with her new life. She got used to the luxury of her position. She came to enjoy being important and special. Most of all, the awful reality of humanity’s future became normalized, an aftereffect of her everyday life. Part of it was because of Io. The Quasing was so euphoric and focused on her work that it bled into Ella. There was a joy and satisfaction radiating from her that Ella could feel every single day. Io was now fulfilling her destiny as a Receiver.

Being Genjix almost felt natural and normal.

Almost.

On the eve of their one-year anniversary as Genjix, Ella decided to go on vacation. It was well-earned. Io had forced Ella to work twelve-hour days for months trying to catch up on the mountain of raw organic data that the subspace communications were imprinting onto the live Quasing at each center. By this time, Io had earned enough trust from the Genjix Council for this to be allowed, as long as she stayed within their domain of control.

That trust and freedom apparently only went so far. No sooner had Ella checked into Lebua in downtown Bangkok than she received a call not three steps into her penthouse suite.

“Thailand is beautiful this time of year,” said Shura, her huge head floating in the air in the center of the living room. The Adonis vessel had blond hair again. It was now cut into a bob. It looked better this way.

“That’s what I hear.” Ella did her best to keep the edge out of her voice. She had only seen Shura twice since Tokyo. The Adonis vessel was now a very important person and was spending all of her time in Russia. That was probably best for both of them. “I figure, if I don’t get to go now before the rainy season, I won’t be able to for another six months. By then, the Western Hemisphere cache will be ready for processing.”

“Just two weeks?”

Ella nodded. “That’s all the time Io can spare. The Sector Six Bio Comm Arrays will have finished sequencing their Quasing by then. I’ll get back just in time to start extrapolating the message.”

“Very well. I hope you enjoy yourself.” Shura paused. “I trust you, Ella.”

She nodded. “Praise to the Holy Ones.”

“Praise to the Holy Ones.”

The screen went dark.

After settling in, Ella left her room and proceeded to the suite’s private elevator. The numbers on the elevator began to descend. It was a long journey down.

Are you sure about this?

“That was the deal.”

It was. I will honor it. I am just saying. There is nothing wrong with changing your mind. If you get caught, your life is forfeit.

“I’ve made up my mind, Io. What about you? What happens if I get caught?”

A gurgling growl grew out of the Quasing. Ella had long recognized that as Io’s way of chuckling. I am untouchable. No matter what you do, the Genjix and Prophus must now embrace me. I am the only Quasing on this planet who can decipher the organic imprints.

“So if I get caught, you can tell them to pardon me?”

If you get caught, they will execute you. Nothing can be done about that. They will then assign a fanatic to be my new host. Religious fanaticism in a host is obnoxiously tiring. I enjoy our independent streak and still prefer you as my host as long as it does not take me away from my work.

“Aw, that’s the nicest thing you ever said to me.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to the ground floor. Ella put on her sunglasses and strutted out into the lobby as if she belonged there, because she did. It was amazing how quickly one could adapt to this highfalutin’ lifestyle. All a person needed was to be free from hunger, violence and need, and they too could easily change their outlook and demeanor.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ella caught sight of Peng, her handler, falling in line a dozen or so paces behind her. Peng was one of those fanatic Genjix operatives Io was so down on. His job was to protect Ella at all costs. Well, that was part of his job. She was pretty sure the other part of his job was to make sure she didn’t escape. The second part was easy. It was incredibly difficult to escape or infiltrate any area that was now considered the Genjix heartland, of which Thailand was definitely a part.

Ella stepped out onto the bustling Bangkok street and casually meandered across the intersection and through the busy shopping district. The crowds parted before her like the sea – the diamond emblem on her coat signifying her position and importance saw to that. Every citizen in Genjix territory recognized that emblem, and no one would dare bother or impede her path. She could shoot someone on the street without any problem.

The thing had been a novelty at first, but now it just made her feel lonely. Ella fought the urge to hide it. Peng would notice that for sure and grow suspicious. Out of habit, she glanced back; he was just outside of arm’s reach. Unobtrusive enough to never get in her way, but always close enough to protect her.

Peng was actually the thirteenth bodyguard assigned to her security detail over the past three months. For some reason, Ella had recently become very particular with her personal protection.

Fourteenth actually.

The first four were women. Ella had problems with all of them and requested a new bodyguard after only a few days with each. The next nine were an assortment of both genders whom Ella found varied reasons to replace. Peng, the fourteenth, however, was the right guy. It wasn’t that he was nicer to Ella or more lenient or more accommodating; far from it. Peng actually was sort of a droll grump. He was very good at his job. The Genjix spared no expense or resource to protect her. He had one specific trait, however, that Ella was looking for. One that made him acceptable where the other bodyguards were not.

She picked up the pace and turned the corner toward the night market. A cacophony of noise hammered her ears: vendors hawking, shoppers haggling and music blaring. Underneath all of it was the low buzz of a community going about their evening. Something spicy wafted into her nostrils. It was followed by the smell of something rotten, which was soon covered up by the sickly sweet scent of musk. A smile broke on Ella’s face and all her senses perked up. It felt like home.

She reached her destination at the dead-end of a busy street at the edge of the market and looked up at the glowing neon sign: Spirit Hands. The door jingled when she walked in. She didn’t know how Peng did it, but the guy somehow slipped in with her.

She walked up to the counter where a young-looking old woman or old-looking young woman was watching a Thai drama. She coughed.

“We are booked for the evening,” said the strange madam of indeterminable age. She gave Ella a lazy glance. Her eyes widened and she straightened. “My deepest apologies, mistress. I can kick one of my other clients out.”

“That won’t be necess… good, I mean. Kick them out now. I expect nothing less.” Ella still was not comfortable wearing the skin of someone important. She waited patiently as the madam kicked a half-dressed patron out of one of the back rooms and shooed him from the massage parlor.

A different woman, one definitely old, walked out a few moments later, bowing profusely and averting her eyes. “This way please.”

Ella eyed the woman up and down. She shook her head dismissively. “Those aren’t spirit fingers.”

Surprise and fear flashed across the madam’s face, if only for an instant. She probably hadn’t expected that phrase from someone like Ella. The pause was only a breath long, and then the madam shooed the old woman away. “Yes, yes, you are correct.” She held out her own hand. “These are spirit fingers. I will see to you myself.”

She motioned for Ella to follow. The madam glanced uneasily as Peng silently fell behind them. Ella was escorted to the room in the far back. Before she could enter, Peng pushed past her and did a thorough search of the premises. When he was satisfied, he stepped back into the hallway and motioned to her that it was safe to enter. Then he placed himself directly in front of the door outside.

A small smile crept onto Ella’s face. That was why she had chosen Peng as her bodyguard. The man was so modest. All the rest would have waited in here while she got the massage.

Ella entered the room and closed the door. She let loose a long sigh, not realizing that she had been holding her breath the entire time. She shed her clothes and climbed onto the massage table. She waited. The next minute was the longest of her entire life. Finally, after forever, part of the wall swung open and a shadowy figure stepped out.

Ella sucked in her breath. “I didn’t realize you would come personally.”

He offered his hand. “Hello Ella. It’s been a long time.”

She threw her arms around his waist. “Hi, Cameron.”

“Are the Genjix treating you well?”

“Better than the Prophus ever could,” she joked. Ella glanced at the door behind her and then removed a small data chip hidden under her tongue. “We don’t have much time. Here is the newest cache of raw data from the Bio Comm Arrays. I included the aggregates this time.”

The chip disappeared on Cameron’s person so quick she didn’t even notice where he hid it. “What we really need is to shut down the Arrays. Can you give us the locations of the facilities? Can you provide those? What about access codes and logistics?”

Remember, Ella.

Ella hesitated, and then shook her head. “I can’t give you that.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

Someone was shuffling just outside the door. She jumped back on the massage table. “Just put that information to good use. No matter what, though, you have to leave the facilities alone.”

“But…”

“That’s the deal,” she hissed. “Use the data any way you like, but the communication link has to stay open.”

Cameron looked as if he were about to say something else, and then nodded. Someone knocked on the door. His hands flashed to the gun at his hip.

“Mistress?” said the madam. “Are you ready? May I come in?”

“Just a minute,” called Ella. She shooed him away. “Go. Tell your dad hi for me.”

Cameron was about to leave when he stopped. He put his hand on her wrist. “Come with me. We’ll figure a way to smuggle you out.”

That is not part of our agreement.

Ella closed her eyes. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if that was even what she wanted. She shook her head. “I made a deal. I have to keep it. I have to stay with the Genjix. At least for now.”

“Why are you helping us?”

Ella’s face took a hard turn. “This is for Nabin.”

He nodded and squeezed her arm. “I miss him too. If you ever change your mind. Whenever you’re ready. You give the word. I’ll come for you.”

A moment later, Cameron Tan was gone and the secret door closed, as if he had never been there. The knob squeaked and turned, and the door swung open. Yellow light from the hallway flooded inside. The madam poked her head in. Relief flooded her face when she saw that Ella was alone. She became all business.

“Please lie on your stomach, mistress.”

Ella did so, catching Peng standing outside, averting his eyes from her naked body.

The madam began to knead her shoulders. “You are so tense. You need to relax more.”

Ella grunted and sighed. “Tell me about it.”