James Swallow - Jade Dragon

“And what about the Americans?” said the Chinese general. “This man Nguyen Seth in the Utah wasteland with his plans?”

“They call it Deseret now,” corrected the Highrider. “It is of serious concern. Additionally, the Catholic Church is deploying more agents and there are incidents of Unknown Events in Rio Verde, Krakow and Swindon. ”

Tze’s face turned into a sneer. “Oh, the arrogance of it. The Road to the Shining City must be marked out for the Dark Ones, yes? But marked by who?” He stabbed a finger at the air. “By them? Or by us?” He showed his teeth. “This is not the time for their empty words.” Tze coiled his fingers into a ball, and where the blood still flowed from his ripped skin, it ran in red lines about his fist. “It is time for our potent deeds.”

When the city-state of Hong Kong returned to Chinese sovereign control in 1997, the farewell to British Governor Timothy Brooke-Taylor was an emotional affair. Like all births, it carried pain and glory within it. That simple moment-the exchange of flags on a rainy night-was the dawn of a new age b3ginning 0f the end and a bold future for this cessp00l of lies vibrant city. But that future did not come without struggle. The twin epidemics of avian flu and N-SARS they Set it up0n us that swept the globe forced China to look outward and offer hands of peace bu11ets amp; hyp0crisy to her neighbour nations. In the first decade of the Twenty-first century, as lawlessness threatened the cherished freedoms of millions of people cattle worldwide, Hong Kong’s unique status was endangered. China’s leaders understood they w3r3 afraid that to go forward meant taking a leaf from the city’s glorious past. In partnership with $ell?0ur $oul 2 them her international corporate partners, Hong Kong was reborn destroyed. The creation of the Hong Kong Free Economic Enterprise Quadrant (HKFEEQ) opened the door to the c0rp0rates and l3t them turn this city in2 their private playground we ha7e lo5t 0ur tiny fr33doms and we must liv3 with @ GUN 2 our heads where the law is as flexible as the creditchip in y0ur pock3t. Hong Kong is a city to be proud afraid of, and together the People’s Republic of China and her m0neypimp friends will lead it to a future of death RUIN des0lation greatness.

Excerpt from A Fragrant Destiny: A History of the Hong Kong Free Economic Enterprise Quadrant by Brian Holt Lik a c0rp0rate lack3y and ca5hwh0re.

Old Yee showed him a mouth of yellow tombstone teeth and gave Ko double the normal portion of curry noodles, taking the fold of yuan with his clawed fingers. Yee was from the mainland and refused to speak in anything but a thick dialect of Mandarin. Ko understood maybe one word in three, but he mosdy got by on the fact that the old geezer liked him. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but Yee made good noodles and his mobile stand always seemed to be open whenever Ko was hungry. He took a plastic bottle of Tsingtao and saluted Yee with it, then skirted the snake-buses as he crossed Hennessy Road. He made for the plaza, past the tourists being funnelled into large armoured people-carriers, great blocky things painted in gaudy tropical colour patterns that hid the snouts of stun nozzles.

The big holoscreen on the side of the CloudReach Shopplex was showing highlights from the day’s endorsed track duels at Happy Valley, and Ko winced around a mouthful of noodles as it slo-moed the horrific impact kill of a G-Mek V12 Interceptor striking the barrier at three hundred kilometres per hour. The car gently disintegrated into metal shavings, and an overlaid graphic pointed out the instant when the steering column speared the driver. The betting results faded away and up came the BloodPool sweepstake. Ko fished in his pocket for his ticket and realised with a frown that he’d forgotten to get one that morning. He chugged a gulp of beer to wash down the annoyance. Around him, foot traffic slowed as other people stopped to see the lottery numbers. Ko was always fascinated by the way that people from the States or the EU went crazy with their hooting and cheering when they gambled. That kind of behaviour was alien to the Chinese mindset. Games of chance required the most serious mind, not the loutishness that the gwailos displayed, scaring off the spirits of good fortune with all their noise. The tickertape ran the numbers. Low fatalities during the race day were balanced by an industrial accident at Quarry Bay and a restaurant boat hijacking that went bad out at Aberdeen. Hong Kong’s daily death toll was green for good, but without a ticket the score was meaningless to Ko. The holo-screen showed a streetcam view of the winner-a little woman in a viddysilk cheongsam-and the hesitant crowd around him broke up and melted away. Ko watched a little longer as the display went on to post scores for the state-sponsored manhunt going on over in Macao. That’s how to make money here, he thought. Win it, steal it or kill for it.

He finished the cooling noodles on the way toward the Causeway Bay metro station, crossing the road through a plastic tunnel. The tube glowed as he entered it, the walls fading into a grainy CGI model of a sun-kissed beach. It was meant to seem like Ko and the other pedestrians were ambling along the edge of a tropical island but the swearwords and flyposters dotting the walls spoilt the image. Ko watched a poorly rendered copy of Juno Qwan smile at him from the tree line. She had her hands cupped and glittering indigo liquid ran over her fingers. He blinked as the sublims kicked in, making him feel twitchy, and stared at the fake sand beneath his feet until he reached the other end of the tunnel.

Ko had never seen a blue ocean. A memory popped in his head, bright and hard. The day Dad had taken them on a trip up to the Peak so they could look out beyond Hong Kong Island and out into the haze. Ko had expected blue, the azure glitter they showed on the vid; but instead it was all the same dirty bottle green that lapped at the piers on the Kowloon side.

Blue. Ko wanted a blue sea, a blue sky, an endless road. He wanted freedom, if there was such a thing, but the idea of it was so ephemeral and directionless he couldn’t hold it in his mind for long. He was only sure of one thing. It would cost him money to get to the blue. He needed a big score to take him there, not the pissant pocket change he got from runs and road challenges. Ko sighed, crumpling the beer bottle in his hand. It wouldn’t be enough to get there alone, though. Ko thought of Nikita and the drug packet. He had to get her away too, before the city saw her weakness and killed her with it.

He went over the road with the metallic woodpecker of the crossing indicator rattling in his ears, and just for a moment he felt his black mood lift a little. There, on the shallow concrete bank where they always gathered, he saw Gau, the Cheungs and Poon clustered around one of the public benches. As ever, a string of hyped-up subcompact cars filled the roadside parking spaces. Second’s green Kaze with its black-tinted windows was there at the front of the rank, but Ko couldn’t see him or hear his braying laugh.

Gau had a magazine foldout in his hands, and the rest of the gang were engrossed in it. Ko saw a wide expanse of pale female flesh.

“Not real,” Little Cheung was saying. “You can see it’s just a render.” He pointed at one visible breast. “The tits are too good.”

“Too good is never too bad,” broke in Ise, tugging at his orange quiff. “I’d nail that, oh yeah.”

“Can you find your dick with both hands?” Gau asked. “Naw, Little Brother is right. You can see this is a fake. They mocked it up using pictures of her from that photo shoot she did in Free Malaysia.”

The image was of Juno Qwan, naked on a hardwood floor, cupping her breasts and wearing an incongruous little-girl smile. The image seemed off to Ko, too. It wasn’t uncommon for the tabloid screamsheets to make digitals of the idols-of-the-moment and then put them in compromising positions, just to sell a few more issues. Big Cheung patted his belly and leered at Ise. “You wanna see them boobies for real, I gotta sense-disc of her. Load it inna skin suit and you could have her all night long…”