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Authors: Wesley Chu

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BOOK: The Rise of Io
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“What do you expect me to do? I can't make them lower their price.”

“I thought they were your friends.”

“The only friend the Fabs have is money.”

Cameron got up and left the gallery. He stopped just outside, looked back at the three Fabs, and spoke in surprisingly decent Hindi. “I don't appreciate being ripped off. You can keep your other substandard crap as well.” He signaled to Nabin and Ella. “Let's go.”

“Wait,” Ella said, but it was too late. She cursed under her breath at the prearranged three percent commission she was about to lose with the Fabs on this particularly large transaction.

Nabin followed Cameron out of the art gallery. Ella froze, unsure if she should leave or not. She wanted to chase after Cameron and tell him to at least get the smaller items. As much as she hated to admit it, only the Fabs had most of this sort of gear in one place. Sure, she could source from several of the other fences but it would be time consuming and a total pain in the ass.

Little Fab turned to her. “Ella, you know we're the only shop in town with this stuff, and you know we'll keep our mouths shut. Have your people see reason.”

“Who are you to talk?” she said. “You're asking for the price of an entire cluster building for that stupid metal box. You're all unreasonable jerks.”

“He's not going to find another,” Little Fab warned.

“Because no one else around here needs it,” she snapped back. “Who are you going to sell this to? The street rat gangs? The Pakistani gangsters?” The two of them came face to face and scowled.

Cameron stuck his head inside the gallery. “Coming, Ella?”

She stuck a finger in his face. “I'll remember this, Little Fab.”

“You're been threatening me for years now,” he shrugged. “I doubt–”

Big Fab, to everyone's surprise, held up his hand. He rarely spoke during negotiations, preferring to let his sons do the talking. For the first two years they did business, he had never uttered one word to Ella. She had just thought him a mute. Big Fab looked at the pile of gear they had negotiated earlier and then waved to Cameron to come back in.

Ella stepped in front of Big Fab's line of sight and crossed her arms. “You speak to me only, Big Fab.”

Little Fab was about to say something when Big Fab waved him off. The senior of the Fabs stared Ella down. She had had dozens of these faceoffs over the years with him, and she had always been the first to crack. Not this time.

He finally spoke first. “You're such a pain in the ass, Black Cat. Now, get out of the way.” He looked at Cameron and switched to English. “Come in, young man.”

That threw Ella off. “Does everyone speak everyone else's language behind my back?”

Cameron took one step into the gallery, and crossed his arms. “I guess we didn't need a translator after all.”

Big Fab laughed. “Is that what you think she was doing? Come, let us speak as businessmen. Please, I like to be face to face with the people I negotiate with.”

Cameron looked at Ella, who shrugged. He pulled his headscarf down to his neck. “All right, let's make a deal.”

Big Fab gave him a small bow. “You need this gear and it's taking up badly-needed space in my warehouse. Tell me, what are you going to do with it?”

Cameron crossed his arms. “That's my business. None of yours.”

“It's my business too, if you're doing it in my backyard.” Big Fab looked at Ella. “The girl's been spying on that construction site lately. Are you going to do something about that place?”

“How did you know?” Ella said.

Big Fab shook his head. “You're not as sneaky as you think, Black Cat. Everyone knows.” Ella's face turned red. Big Fab crossed his arms and stared Cameron down. “You tell me you're going up against those assholes building the site and I'll give you a fair price.”

“As long as my money is good, what do you care what I do with the gear?” said Cameron, guardedly.

Big Fab shrugged. “Usually I don't, but that gods-forsaken site is eating up my Crate Town and no one can do anything to stop them. Besides, they roughed up my monk and have made life hard for everyone.”

Cameron hesitated, and then nodded. “I'm operating in that area, and what's a fair price?”

The final price Big Fab offered was still outrageous, but it wasn't outrageous enough that Cameron didn't accept it. The two men finally shook.

“If you happen to come across that turd minister Kapoor and drown him in the ocean,” Big Fab said as they were leaving, “bring the gear back and I'll give you a full refund. As a reward.”

“Refund as a reward? What an asshole,” Nabin muttered under his breath.

“That's how we do business here,” Ella said. “Welcome to Crate Town.”

The three of them decided to call it a day and head back to Wiry Madras. They had obtained most of the supplies on the list, and Ella had sent word through to Manish about providing some guns and ammo. Her coach had sent Aarav to say he'd come by later tonight to work out the details. All in all, it had been a productive day.

As they were strolling back toward the bathhouse, a little boy who lived across the street from her cluster ran up to them. “Ella, Ella.”

She signaled for Cameron and Nabin to pause, and knelt in front of the seven year-old. “What is it, Abdul?”

“I've been looking all over for you. Appa sent me to find you. The man, the one who is in those big pictures, went to your place last night.”

She frowned. “Who?”

The boy pointed at one of the posters behind her.

“The deputy minister? At my place?”

He nodded vigorously, his eyes wide. “He came with Inspector Manu and a bunch of his police, and then they shot someone.”

Gunshots? In her home? Who could it be? Had Hamilton been there for some reason? She had disappeared on him for the past two days. Io had told her not to say anything. Maybe he was searching for her. Did he get caught by the Genjix? This was all her fault. Was his blood on her hands?

Ella, face pale, turned to Nabin. “I need to go home.” She took off running.

“Wait, Ella,” Nabin called out. A few seconds later, he caught up to her and spun her around.

“Let go of me,” she hissed.

“Someone could still be there.”

“He's right,” Cameron said, catching up a moment later. “Once we know the coast is clear, we'll go up, all right? For now, we take our time and don't draw any attention.”

Ella nodded reluctantly. They joined the steady flow of traffic toward her cluster. The way back to her home looked just like it did every other day. Half-naked children played in the streets, old women cooked over fires, men smoked pipes and sorted through salvage. Several shot wary glances at the two strangers wrapped up like mummies and their gazes trailed after them.

Everything looked normal, but her gut was telling her something was off. It wasn't until they reached the base of the cluster that she realized what was bothering her. Those folks, her neighbors, weren't staring at Cameron and Nabin; they were staring at her.

Ella's stomach twisted into knots. She stopped at the base of the stairs leading up to her container and drew the long knife from its sheath. Immediately, both men drew their pistols as well.

The walk up the four flights of stairs was excruciating as the three of them crawled up the steps one at a time. Each time they went up two steps, Cameron and Nabin maneuvered into position so they covered each other. It wasn't until they neared the top stair that she realized that her fears weren't unfounded. Right as they came around the last turn, she saw her door ajar.

“Oh no.”

Ella, no. Do not rush in.

Afraid to find Hamilton's body inside, she crept forward. Nabin put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. “They may still be there. Let Cameron and me clear it first.”

“You're right.” She gripped the long knife in her hand. “If they're here, I'm going to gut them. Let's go.”

“No. Stay here.”

“But–”

“Stay here.”

“If I'm missing anything, Io, I'm going to kill you.”

Your stash should be the least of your worries.

Reluctantly, Ella watched as Cameron and Nabin disappeared inside her home. She hoped she hadn't left her clothes lying about. Or the trash. How embarrassing. Fortunately, whoever had busted into her place seemed to be long gone. A few seconds later, Nabin appeared and waved her in.

Ella dashed into her home and realized that all her fears about Nabin finding her underwear and dirty clothes and laundry were completely unfounded, because whoever had broken in had completely ransacked the place. Everything was destroyed. The inside of her home now resembled a landfill. What little furniture she had had was overturned, clothing was strewn all over the place, and what few electronics she owned were smashed. They had even slashed her little mattress to shreds.

She went into her bedroom and gasped. The hidden panel had been removed. She rushed over and pawed the darkness inside. There was nothing inside. Her cash, her music CDs, her few official documents, the picture of her mother. All gone.

Ella fell to her knees and stared into the darkness. Her entire life was in there; her past as well. She was now truly a nobody, a nothing. She might as well not exist anymore. What did Amma look like? The only picture Ella had of her now was in her head. She fought the tears welling in her eyes.

An image of the picture flashed into Ella's head.

I remember, Ella. And because of that, you will never forget.

Cameron walked up behind her. “I'm sorry this happened. I'm sorry I brought this down upon you. Did anyone else live here?”

“No,” she sniffed. “It was just me and… No, no.”

Ella got up and dashed out of her home. She ran around to the side of the container, and stared. A trail of blood smeared the ground leading to Burglar Alarm's nest. She took two hesitant steps forward, and saw a patch of fur hidden in the far back corner. Ella went onto all fours and crawled inside. She found Burglar Alarm sprawled out, laying on her side. There was red everywhere. Dried blood streaked down the side of her head. In the center just above the eyes, was a single gunshot wound.

This time, Ella didn't bother holding back her grief.

Thirty-Six
A Lead

I finally made my mark on the world in the summer of 1842 when I inhabited a three year-old boy named George in a place called Ohio. He was my first attempt at joining with a human at such an early age, and will likely go down in history as my most significant achievement. I originally feared I had once again chosen the wrong host when George attended West Point and graduated last in his class. He also held one of the worst conduct records in the academy's history.

As fortune would have it, the Civil War broke out and provided George with a clean slate. He enjoyed an up-and-down career, but survived the war as a major general. Afterward, he continued serving on the frontier, most notably in the American Indian War. George died at the Battle of Little Bighorn, which is now better known by his name, Custer's Last Stand.

E
lla didn't know
what happened after she found Burglar Alarm. Everything was a blur, like a bad dream. She remembered traces and flashing images. The trail of dried blood streaking across the ground. The dog's broken and bloodied body in her nest. The sticky fur as Ella cradled Burglar Alarm in her lap. She heard sobs and the cries of “sorry” over and over and over again, not recognizing her own voice.

She felt Nabin's hairy arms wrap around her waist, dragging her away. She remembered letting go and saying goodbye, telling her best friend in the entire world that she loved her. She just never realized how much until it was too late.

Cameron and Nabin had bundled her up and practically carried her like a baby back to the bath house. Nabin tucked her in the cot in the back room where she passed out in between fits of tears. She still had enough presence of mind to tell him to tie her arm to the bed frame before she fell asleep.

Honestly, Ella. That is not necessary. I promise I will not do anything. If it means anything, I am sorry about your friend. I have inhabited dogs in the past. I know–

“Go to hell, Io!”

When Ella woke up a few hours later, she felt even more drained. She never realized that bawling her eyes out was such exhausting work.

Her mind wandered back to the mangy brown and black mutt, her tail wagging every time Ella came home. She remembered all the times Burglar Alarm would nuzzle her and just beg for a morsel or to have her ears scratched. Ella would shy away, because the dog was caked in mud or covered with ticks and fleas. Now, all she wanted to do was throw her arms around her friend, fleas or no fleas.

There was something about death that put everything in perspective. Ella didn't have many friends in the world, and now there was one less.

Now Burglar Alarm was gone.

Ella wiped the fresh tears streaking down her cheeks and looked around the room. Thank gods she was alone. She peered out the only window in the room. It was dark outside.

It is just before midnight.

“I wasted the whole night.”

Ella sat up and nearly fell off the bed. She looked at her arm tied to the bed frame. She began to pick at it. “Damn, that Nabin ties a tight knot.”

“Need help?”

Ella looked up and saw Cameron at the door. A blade appeared in his hand as if by magic and with a quick flick, she was free. As quickly as it appeared, the blade was gone again.

She stared. “Teach me that.”

“What?”

“That thing you do with the knife.”

Cameron pulled his sleeves back and showed her a flesh-colored band on his forearm. He jerked his wrist up and the blade appeared. He made another motion and it retracted.

“That is so cool,” she said.

“You want one?” he grinned. “We'll see what we can do about getting one your size.” He held up the rag. “Let me guess. You just found out she can control you while you're unconscious and you're not happy with it.”

Watch what you say carefully.

Ella huffed. “My alien does not have permission to control my body. Ever.”

He nodded. “I went through that phase with Tao during puberty, but my Quasing is pretty good with controlling a human body, so knots don't work on him.”

“Sucks to be you.”

He chuckled. “Actually, Tao and I have a really good working relationship. He's been with me for as long as I remember. He's as much a part of me as this.” He held up a hand and wiggled it. “I'm sure in time, you and Io will come to an understanding.”

“Not a chance,” she grumbled.

“It wasn't always that way.” Cameron sat down on the bed next to her and tapped the side of his head with a finger. “When I was a teen, I chafed like hell against this third parent in my head. Once, we were hunting a Genjix operative in Oregon. I was scouting the forest line when I found her camp. Tao ordered me to go back and get Dad, but I wanted to prove how much of a man I was. After all, she was an unarmed little elderly woman, kind of reminded me of my nai nai. I thought I could take her no sweat.”

“What happened?”

Cameron chuckled. “Do you know what kendo is?”

“No.”

It is a Japanese style of sword fighting.

“Well, she was really good at it. She found a branch, disarmed me, and then busted my noggin. She kept me hostage for three days.”

Ella's eyes widened. “Three days? What happened?”

“She got away, but not before she took all my savings out of the bank. I was saving for a new video game console.”

“Wow, she robbed you too?”

Cameron chuckled. “Damn straight she did. Not only that, that mean grandma slapped me around for intel and put me to work digging latrine ditches. While traveling, she kept me on a loose leash, blindfolded and wrists tightly bound, and used me as a pack mule. Told me if I escaped, I would die by myself this deep in the forest. That grandma knew how to tie a knot.” He picked up a pebble and threw it at the opposite wall. “Tao knew about this Genjix and warned me, but I didn't listen. Moral of the story is, as much as we think they're up in our business, Tao and Io and most Quasing have been around for a long time, and mostly they're looking out for us because they're looking out for themselves, and the two usually go hand-in-hand.”

Ella scowled. “So you're saying I should just let Io boss me around?”

“Nah. You should still be you, and do what you think is right. However, just realize that life isn't always black and white. There's a lot more nuance to everything than we know.”

“I guess,” she grumbled.

“Anyway, I wanted to check up on how you're doing.”

“That asshole minister shot my dog,” she said, the hot rage returning in a flash. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. “I'm going to kill him.”

“Yeah, well, get in line,” Cameron said. “That asshole minister also got three of my friends killed.” He grimaced. “Four. I'm pinning Dubs's death on him too.”

The two sat in silence. Ella stared at the wall, the image of Burglar Alarm seared into her brain. “He's also a Genjix, right?”

“And there is that.”

“Then maybe we should do something about him.”

Cameron nodded. That's what I came in here to talk to you about. Have you been to that construction site they're building? The one that got our other people killed?”

She nodded “I recor–”

Ella, do not tell him about your surveillance work. If he looks and cannot locate the data you supposedly sent to Command, he will become suspicious. Remember the consequences if they think we are Genjix.

She hesitated. “I know the site really well.”

“Can you show me?”

“Sure. When?”

He looked out the window. “It's pretty dark outside. Moon's hidden by cloud cover. How about now?”

Ella had been intent on staying in bed and wallowing until hunger drove her out, but revenge was also a worthwhile pick-me-up. “Let me get dressed and strap on my knives.”

“Need a gun?”

“No guns in Crate Town.”

“Suit yourself, I'm bringing two.”

“Hey, Cameron,” she called, as he was leaving.

He looked back. “Yes?”

“How did you escape the mean old grandma?”

“First chance I had to run, Tao made me take it. I covered over twenty kilometers blindfolded with my wrists bound, with forty kilos of supplies strapped to my back.”

“How did you do that?”

“Tao memorized every step we took and backtracked.” Cameron smiled and then left the room.

“Now, that is a super power,” Ella whispered to herself.

The takeaway from his story is we should work together.

“The takeaway from this story is Tao helps Cameron to do the right things while you try to trick me into doing the wrong things.”

Like he said, things are not so black and white.

“Your friends killed my dog, you jerk!”

I am sure that is an unfortunate–

“Don't you even say it,” Ella snapped. Fists clenched, she unrolled her stash of weapons and decided to vent her fury toward arming up for her outing. She took the first knife and jammed it into its sheath.

Fifteen minutes and sixteen knives later, Ella led Cameron down the dark streets of Crate Town. The slum at night was an entirely different beast than it was during the day. It was at the same time quiet and active. The tension from the recent riots and the increased police presence had quelled the usual nightlife.

It was replaced by something else. Now, drums of loud footsteps, marching almost, filled the air. It had to be now-regular patrols. No criminal worth her salt would make so much noise walking at night. Luckily, these plodding half-wits were fairly easy to avoid.

Unless they are carrying a Penetra scanner.

Ella avoided the few pockets of life and led Cameron down narrow alleys that seemed to meander around poorly laid out container clusters, sometimes forcing him to squeeze between misaligned containers or go underground through sewers. To her surprise, Cameron didn't bat an eye as they crept through ankle-high sewage.

They reached the southwestern end of the construction site by midnight and slowly made their way north around the perimeter. Along the way, she pointed out specific buildings and locations she thought important, like the main administration building, the power station, the desalination facility, and the weird domed building with the needle top in the center. She never figured out what that was for.

“Do you know by chance, Io?”

That I will not tell you.

They continued to the part of the site that used to be the Dumas neighborhood. By now, most of the buildings and clusters had been demolished or torn down. There were still stacks of containers and piles of rubble being cleared, but it little resembled the thriving community that had once been here.

Through Cameron's night-vision binoculars, she showed him the storage warehouse for the raw supplies, where the foundation for another large structure was being dug, and the pipeline that was being laid out across its entire length.

“I have no idea what they're building,” Cameron said. “Tao thinks the design layout of that cluster over there looks like Quasing housing facilities, but that would mean they plan on housing hundreds of thousands of them in there. Why?”

“I thought these aliens couldn't survive outside of living creatures,” she said.

“It's a recent development,” he replied. “Twenty-five years ago, the Genjix figured out how to replicate the environment on their home planet, their Eternal Sea – basically this gooey liquid that they could survive in without a host.

“That has allowed them to start reproducing. Until then, they were slowly going extinct. Unfortunately for them, the newborn Quasing are barely sentient, because they learn either by millions of years of experience or by osmosis. Back on their home planet, their Eternal Sea housed trillions of them, so the newborns were able to learn and develop quickly.” He frowned. “Could this be what they're doing? Trying to educate newborn Quasing through large osmosis tanks?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Ella said.

“It doesn't matter.” Cameron shook his head. “Tao said doing something like that would still require hundreds of years, and several thousand older Quasing to help distribute that information. So what is it for?”

“Does it matter? I thought we were just trying to stick a sharp object into the minister and bleed him out.”

“So vicious,” Cameron murmured. He looked at the docks to their right. “That area is lit up like a Christmas tree. It's too risky. Let's call it a night. Thanks for the tour.”

“Anytime,” Ella said.

“Know a place around here we can get a drink at this hour?”

Ella checked the streets. “Yeah, I know a place that never closes, although I'm not sure how happy they'll be to see me.”

“Caused some trouble at that establishment?”

“Something like that.”

Ten minutes later, they reached the Cage. The bar was packed even at this hour, although the clientele reflected the types of people who would still be up at this time of night. A low rumble of voices and unintelligible conversations underlined the Indian hard rock filtering through the pipes. It was surprisingly quiet in here considering the crowd.

Wary eyes glanced at them as they walked in. No police or suspicious-looking foreigners, mostly locals. There was a group of union guys sitting in the corner. They'd been on everyone's shit list since they started doing the minister's dirty work clearing out some of the residences, but they had been quiet lately.

“Rough-looking bunch,” said Cameron.

“The Cage is popular. This is where a lot of folks in Crate Town conduct business. It's a good place to get a job and catch the latest gossip.”

Congee, the bartender and owner, scowled when he saw her. He folded his arms and puffed up his chest, as if daring her to order a drink. She didn't blame him for being pissed. The last time she had stepped foot in his bar, she had lobbed half a dozen smoke grenades and nearly caused a riot. Ella threw on her widest, most plastic smile, worked up her courage, and strolled up to the counter.

BOOK: The Rise of Io
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