James Swallow: Jade Dragon

Ko said nothing as Fixx bent down and placed a single tarot card against Juno’s tombstone. He didn’t need to look to know there was a priestess with a beatific face upon it, head turned to the sky and smiling.

“Ko.” Lam approached him. He looked different out of the spidersilk suit, in casual clothes. Ko saw the hollowness in his eyes, the sadness and the loss, and felt a pang of sympathy for the man.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “If I had got there quicker-”

Lam shook his head. “It’s not your fault. You dealt with that bastard Tze. You have nothing to apologise about.” He nodded up to where the road snaked through the graveyard. There were a string of vehicles up there, among them Fixx’s black Korvette with Nikita dozing in the back seat, her head resting against the window.

They were almost alone in the cemetery. The other cars belonged to a group of shaven-headed Durdenists, chanting their death rites over a lost member of their number a few plots down the hillside. Ko let his gaze wander over the cityscape.

All across Hong Kong the streets were sparsely populated. The population stayed at home and held close to those they loved, finding solace in simple human company. There would be nightmares for a long time to come. Church congregations of all kinds would swell, as would the lines at psych clinics and Doktor-Shrink™ franchises across the city; in a few years, someone would estimate that a full eighth of Hong Kong’s citizens suffered permanent psychotic breaks in the wake of the catastrophic “Wyldsky Incident”.

Lam indicated the Korvette. “How is Nikita?”

“No better,” admitted Ko, “but no worse either. I guess when the whole thing fell apart, the pain stopped.” He tapped his head. “Up here. But she’s gotta long way to go before she’s better.”

The other man nodded. “This might help her some.” Lam produced a thick folder from a pocket in his jacket and opened it. It was a wad of share certificates from minor league multinats like Buell Tool, Inverse Smile and Titancorp. “Take these,” he said. “They’re as good as cash. You never did get paid for bringing me the truth about my brother.”

Ko accepted the bundle. “This has gotta be, what, worth twice as much as we agreed?”

Lam shrugged. “Something like that. When I bailed out from Yuk Lung, I set some contingency plans in motion, which involved wide-banding certain corporate secrets my brother had been gathering together. Before I did that, though, I made sure I channelled a big chunk of yuan from Tze’s discretionary funds into a sealed Swiss account.”

Ko chuckled. “That’s a fair enough revenge. Yuk Lung Heavy Industries will be history before the end of the week.” He pocketed the folder and produced something from his coat. “Got something for you too. Your phone.” Ko handed it back and paused, thinking. “Remember what you said, when we were on the expressway? That you used to be like me?”

“I remember.”

“I think I believe you now. Only someone Street would do what you did. You might have lost your octane for a while, but you got it back, neh? It’s in your blood, man, the need for speed.”

“Yeah,” said the other man distantly. “Listen, could you… give me a moment?” He looked at the grave.

Ko nodded and followed Fixx toward the trees. “Sure, man. Say your goodbyes. ”

“Thanks, Ko.”

“You’re welcome… Francis.”

He reached out a hand and let his fingers wander over the stone. It was cool and solid, and the action made his eyes prickle with tears. Frankie had hoped that his fingers would pass through the marker, ghost-like, that perhaps he might suddenly realise that all this was in his head. He wanted so much for it to be some horrible dream, a broken fragment left over from Tze’s invasion of his thoughts.

But no. Juno was gone, the dancing, laughing sparkle in those haunted eyes snuffed out. The tragedy of her life brought to the inexorable closure that had been written into her DNA from the start.

Numbly, in the hours after he and Fixx escaped from the tower, Frankie paged through the reams of data he had drained from Tze s computers. There, bereft of the security lockouts that had blocked his path before, was the scope of Project: Juno in all her synthetic glory. Yuk Lung and RedWhiteBlue had manufactured her from raw flesh, manipulated and changed her to make the perfect idol. With callous precision, they adjusted her look and personality to touch a baseline of human attraction across the broadest spectrum. She was made so everyone who saw her, everyone who heard her voice would find something to like about Juno. Something to love.

He recalled Tze’s words: Quite something, isn’t she? It’s hard not fall for a woman like that.

It wasn’t enough that they had used the girl, and not just her but a whole rank of clone-sisters, treating the Junos as disposable assets just to sell records; Tze had perverted her further, making her the face of his scheme, using her to spread the use of Z3N.

Frankie took a shuddering breath. Tze was correct; Juno was created to make people fall in love with her, and Frankie had, harder and deeper than ever before. But did she love him too? Perhaps, he told himself, perhaps she was so carefully machined that he only thought she cared for him. It was obvious now that the Hi woman and Tze had brought the two of them together to keep Frankie distracted from what was really happening. So easy to see it now in hindsight.

His vision blurred a little, and for a second there was the ghost of her face before him, smiling up from the silk sheets, meeting his lips in a kiss.

In that moment, he knew it for sure. Frankie gave Juno the one thing she had never found in her lonely, sad existence. Truth, and she loved him for it.

Frankie bowed his head and wept silently.

Fixx put the cat on his shoulder and the animal made a short purr in its throat. “Hush up, Pinkeye,” he told it.

“Cute pet,” said Ko, in a way that showed he didn’t mean it.

“Just walking him for a friend. ”The op pulled a small metal rod from his pocket. “Here.”

Ko took it and his eyes widened. “The key to the ’Vette?”

“Yeah. It’s just a loaner, mind. Get you over the boundary into China, to someplace where you can use those jet tickets and not get spiked. She’s pre-programmed, just let her go when you’re done and she’ll find her way back to me.”

The youth weighed the key in his hand, studying the little chrome skull dangling off the ring. “What you gonna do without any wheels?”

“Ah, don’t worry ’bout me.” Fixx took a deep breath of the morning air. “I kinda like this place. They do things different ’round here. Gonna stay put for a while, rest up. See how the cards play.”

After a moment, Ko said, “I’ve never been out of Hong Kong, not really. Trips to Bangkok, a week here or there. I don’t know anything else.”

“Yeah, you do,” said Fixx. “You got what you need to get by, slick. Never doubt that.” He tickled the cat under the chin. “Me and Pinkeye, we’re gonna take a stroll. You look after your sis, now.” He turned and walked away down the gentle slope.

“Hey,” called Ko, “maybe I’ll, uh, see you around?”

Fixx spoke without looking back. “Never can tell.”

Feng sat cross-legged on the bonnet of the Korvette, watching the skyline. Ko found a smile unfolding on his face at the sight of the swordsman; after taking Tze’s head in the statue park, it had felt like something had gone missing from his soul. He hadn’t seen the warrior since.

“Hey,” he began, patting his pockets, “you wanna smoke? Think I got a pack of Peacefuls here-”

“I quit,” said Feng. “Filthy habit.”