Chapter 8

Shin lugged the big box of produce into the back of the Temple Street soup kitchen. "Anyone call for groceries?"

Mrs. Sakamoto came bustling over and took the box from him. "Bless you, Mr. Shin. We're all in fluster today. I don't know what we'd do without these."

"Ah, it was nothing. I was in the area."

"How much do we owe you?" she asked.

"The grocer said he'd send you the bill."

"And for your time?"

He waved this away. "Ah, skip it. I was on my lunch break anyway."

Mrs. Sakamoto smiled as she pulled a large cabbage out of the box and started chopping it. "Fibber. How you keep that taxi running, I have no idea. I suppose you'd like to say 'Hello,' to your young lady?"

He grinned. "I wouldn't say 'No.'"

"She's in the front," she said with a jerk of her head toward the connecting door. "Just don't keep her from her work."

Shin help up his hands in protest. "Hey, I'm a good boy," he said, heading toward the door.

"Fibber!" Mrs. Sakamoto called after him.

Ru was clearing dishes away from an empty table when he came in. Shin gave a nod to the man at the counter who was filling bowls for a woman with two small children. The younger kid stared at him so he waved and started pulling funny faces. She smiled and ducked her head.

"Didn't your mother warn you? Your face might freeze that way if you do that." Ru shot him a smile as she pushed past, carrying the dirty dishes to the sink.

"Maybe she thought it would be an improvement," he said, following her.

Ru started washing the dishes. Her smile grew mischievous. "Mayyybe," she said.

He leaned against the wall by the sink. "So should I make faces at you when I take you out dancing this weekend?"

She flicked some soap suds at him. "I dare you."

"What do I get if I do?" he asked.

"Uh uh. That's not how it works. Winning a dare is its own reward."

"It was worth a try."

"However," she said, "for coming through for us today, I'll give you two turns in a row picking where we go out. Even if they're both to the fights."

He shrugged. "You don't need to do that. It's just business."

"So if I ask Mrs. Sakamoto, she'll tell me you let her pay you?" He blushed and looked away. "Tough guy," she said with a laugh. "Take the money, or let me do something nice for you."

He leaned in close and she let him kiss her cheek. "All right, you got me. You're a sweetheart. And I promise I won't make you go to the fights twice in a row."

Shin heard the street door of the soup kitchen open. He glanced over in idle curiosity, then frowned and stared. Three men came through the door, and they didn't look like the sort who needed a free hot meal to make it through the day. They all wore dark suits, expensive ones if he was any judge. Shin wasn't the only one who had noticed the men. A hush fell over the room. The woman with the two kids pulled them both close to her. The last man through the door locked it behind him. He turned the sign in the window from 'Open' to 'Closed' and pulled down the shade. Shin noticed that he wore dark green leather gloves.

"What the hell?" Shin said.

Ru had turned around at the disturbance, and now she put a hand up to her mouth. "Oh, no. Not them. Not here."

He stared at her. "You know these jokers?"

She grasped his arm. "Please," she said in a low voice, "don't make trouble. Whatever they want, just cooperate. Please."

Before he could answer, the door from the back opened, and they both turned to look. Mrs. Sakamoto stepped through, looking pale. She was followed by the rest of the kitchen staff and a fourth man wearing the same dark suit and green gloves.

The fourth man closed the door behind him and gave the room a cold smile. "Now that we have your attention..."

Pema was relaxing in her study with a novel when Korra burst through the secret door from the training hall, Ikki close on her heels. Pema glanced through the door behind them. The room was looking less like a gym at the moment and more like an accident in a library.

Korra had arrived shortly after dinner, bearing a cardboard box full of books. At first, she'd dodged answering any questions about her reading material. Meelo had still been up, so Pema had guessed it was Avatar business. Fortunately, Meelo's instinctive view of books as the most boring thing on earth had prevented him from asking any awkward questions. After he had gone to bed, Korra had snagged several more volumes from the archives and set up on the floor of the training hall where she could spread out. Ikki seemed to now consider herself Korra's official research assistant and had invited herself along. It was now technically past her bedtime as well, but Pema was reluctant to discourage this new enthusiasm for study and was trying to figure how to direct at the girl's actual schoolwork.

Now the books were scattered all over the hall floor, some lying open, others sprouting bookmarks like a boar-q-pine sprouted quills. Several scattered sheets of notebook paper and one huge square of butcher paper were covered with notes. Ikki stopped in the doorway, grinning and bouncing on the balls of her feet. Korra perched herself on the corner of Pema's desk. "Why am I the Avatar?" she asked.

Pema leaned back in her chair as she considered the question. "You both look excited, so I'm guessing that it's not self-doubt behind the question. Beyond that, I'm not sure what you're getting at."

"I mean, why me and not someone else?"

"Well," Pema said carefully, "if you're the reincarnation of all the previous Avatars, it couldn't really be anyone else. Are you asking why you're you?"

Korra waggled a hand. "Kind of, but not exactly. What I'm getting at is why was the Avatar reborn into this body?" She tapped herself on the chest.

"Well, the Avatar cycle has turned to Water, which means being reborn in a child of the Tribes."

"Yes, but why the daughter of Tonraq and Senna?" Korra pursued.

Ikki had been fidgeting more and more as Pema and Korra had talked and now burst out, "Korra was born hours after grandfather died. You've got his time of death written down in the archives. I found it."

Korra nodded. "I was born on the same day," Korra said, "so it's not immediately obvious. But Aang died in the morning. I don't remember the exact time of my birth, but I remember my parents told me it was in the afternoon. And the time difference between here and Harbor City just makes it worse."

"There must have been loads of babies who could have been the Avatar but weren't," Ikki said.

"At least a dozen in Republic City alone," Korra said.

Pema nodded, "And then add in the populations of the North Pole and South Pole, not to mention the rest of the diaspora. I see what you mean." She looked up at Korra. "So do you have an answer?"

"I think so," Korra said. She stood and started to pace the room as she talked. "The Avatar gets their power from Raava. What if she needs something special to be able to communicate with the Avatar. Something in the body, not the soul?" She stopped walking and took a deep breath. "What if spiritual sensitivity is biological? Maybe inherited. Something that just occurs in a fraction of the population. Common enough that there will always be a next Avatar, rare enough that Raava needs to be a little choosy."

"All right," Pema said hesitantly. "It's plausible, but why is it significant?"

"The device from Varrick Tower, and the other one from the factory. I think they're some sort of spiritual broadcaster. The M-rays aren't like any normal physical signal because they're not purely physical. They have some influence on the spiritual plane."

"M-rays?"

Unaccountably, Korra blushed. "That's just what the Ghost and I started calling them. 'M' for mystery."

"You could call them 'S-rays,'" Ikki suggested. "'S' for Spirit!"

Korra looked mulish for a moment and then shrugged and said, "Maybe. Anyway, I think that's the connection. We already knew that Jinora is spiritually sensitive, and she got a headache from the first broadcast. I'm not naturally as sensitive as she is, but I am linked to Raava and I got headaches. The Spirits are bothered enough by something to attack where one of these devices is running. If I can show that the other people who experienced the headaches are also spiritually sensitive, that'll clinch it." She grimaced. "I'm just not sure how to do that. I might just have to go without proof. It's at least a guess at what the M-rays are, which gives me a starting place to figure out how to counteract them."

"Can you talk to your professor friend? The one who loaned you the books?" Pema asked.

Korra sighed. "If I can trust him. Building a device like this sounds right up his street. And he had a map of Spiritual hot-spots that included the areas of the first two attacks. I want to be fair to him, but right now he's the only person I know of who has the qualifications to be our bad guy."

"Oooh," Ikki said. "You should try getting close to him and real friendly and make him think you're sympathetic, and then when he thinks you're on his side he'll confide in you about his big plan, and then you can nab him!"

Korra closed her eyes like her head hurt. Pema looked at Ikki and said, "No more spy romances for you, young lady."

The alley door for the Jade Cab Company was unlocked. Asami knew she was expected, but she still entered cautiously and locked the door behind her. She kept to the shadows as she made her way to the garage.

Shin was there, sitting on a stool next to his cab. The driver's door was open, and a play by play account of a judo match came over the vehicle's radio. Shin was engrossed in the broadcast and didn't notice her approach. "Mr. Shin," she called out.

He started and turned around. He was sporting a black eye and a swollen lip, but he grinned as he saw her and stood up. "Now that's service. I only left my report for Medium about an hour ago. She said you were already planning to come talk to me, but I didn't expect you so soon."

"You moved up in priority when I heard you had your own business to discuss. Why don't you tell me about it?"

"OK. It's like this, see? Remember my girl, Ru? She works at a soup kitchen on Temple Street. Place gives a square meal to folks on hard times."

"I know the one you mean."

Shin nodded. "Sure. Anyway, sometimes I run errands for them in my cab. I get to spend a little time with Ru while I'm at it. Well today I'm there dropping off some groceries, and these guys come in. Completely out of place, really nice suits, definitely not hard luck cases. And they're all wearing these weird green leather gloves."

Asami drew in a sharp breath. "Dai Li," she said grimly.

Shin stared at her. "That's what Ru called them. Has everyone heard of these jokers but me?"

"I haven't had a run in with them personally before now, but I learned about them when I spent some time in Ba Sing Se in my younger days." Just five years ago, but who was counting? "I daresay your young lady or her people also come from Ba Sing Se or one of the other large cities in the Empire?" Shin nodded. "The Dai Li are the Empress's secret police. They have quite a reputation among the city folk. Less so in the countryside. When the Empress doesn't like how the small towns are behaving, she usually just sends in the army. What are they doing in my city?"

"They're looking for some guy. They locked the street door behind them after they came in. Started showing this drawing around, wanting to know if anyone had seen him."

"Had anyone?" Asami asked.

Shin shook his head. "If they did, they sure didn't own up to it. And everyone in there was pretty spooked. I don't blame them. I ... well, I didn't listen to Ru, and I tried to stand up to them. You can see what they did." He gestured to his face. "And that was just one guy. The others just watched. I didn't give them no more trouble after that."

"That was wise. They're bullies, but they're well trained bullies. And they're not above making an example out of someone who crosses them." She clenched her fist. "Damn it. Out of all the times for them to stick their noses in. But we can't let this pass."

"That's kind of how I hoped you'd feel," Shin said. "Anything I can do, let me know. It's kind of personal, you know?"

"I understand. Just remember today and don't go off on your own. Can you give a description of the men you met? And of the man they're looking for?"

Shin nodded. "I don't think I'll forget any time soon."

"I'll mobilize the network to be on the lookout. I'll need to be able to find them before I can take care of them. In the meantime, I have something to ask of you while I'm here."

"You got it, Boss. What's up?"

"I need to make some modifications to your cab."

"Hey, Wu! Wait up."

Wu turned to see Bolin waving to him from down the hall. He sighed and glanced up at the floor indicator of the elevator. Still three floors away. He didn't have much choice on waiting since Bolin would reach him before the doors opened. Maybe he should have taken the stairs. All eleven flights. He sighed again and shook his head. He turned to the approaching photographer and tried to muster a convincing smile.

"Hello, Bo. On your way out?"

"Not exactly. I was hoping to talk to you for a moment."

Wu glanced at his watch. "Well, I'm on my way to cover a wedding, so I don't have a lot of time." The elevator doors finally opened. Bolin followed him onto the elevator. Wu was stuck with him at least until the lobby.

"Need a photographer?" Bolin asked, although he had to know it was a silly question.

"You don't have your camera with you," Wu pointed out. "Besides, the bride's family hired a private one, and I'm sure they'll be thrilled to provide copies of the official photos for us to print on the society page.

"Right," Bolin said, nodding. They rode in silence for two floors. The Bolin stopped dancing around the subject. "Wu, is everything all right?"

Wu grimaced, and wondered if he'd agreed to bring Bolin along to the wedding if he would have been able to keep him distracted with work talk. Probably not. "Everything's fine and dandy. Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking. You've been in a mood the past few days. Kind of somber. Where's the old Wu banter we know and love? The sparkle? The pizazz?"

"If Moon sent you to have a talk with me," Wu said stiffly, "tell her I promise my next article will 'sparkle' more."

"Moon has nothing to do with it," Bolin said, clearly hurt. "I thought we were friends. Friends watch out for each other."

"Sorry," Wu mumbled. He avoided looking Bolin in the eye.

"So what is going on?" Bolin persisted.

The elevator opened onto the lobby. Wu stepped out, but held up a hand to keep the door from closing right away. "Nothing you can help with. That's not a slight. It's nothing anyone can help with. Just something I need to weather through. But I appreciate the concern." He released the door and gave Bolin a shrug and a wave, before turning to walk across the lobby.

"If you change your mind, you know whereto find me," Bolin called after him, followed by the rumble of the elevator door closing again.

"Yeah, I do," Wu said with a sigh. He made his way out the front door and hailed a taxi. It would all blow over, he told himself. It had to.

Asami had the evening free. Korra had called earlier with a rasp to her voice that told its own story: a summer cold that had come on with unpleasant suddenness. And so their date was postponed again. They hadn't talked long, Korra pleading the need for rest. After hanging up, Asami realized that she really should have at least offered to come over to Korra's place, fix her dinner, take care of her for the evening. But maybe that would have been an imposition. She decided it was better to let the matter lie, instead of disturbing Korra with another phone call.

So she fell back on her usual routine for when she had a night to herself. She was getting kitted up to go out on a general patrol of the city when a call came in to the crime lab.

"Sorry to bother you," the Avatar said on the other end. "I was wondering if you had time to meet and compare notes."

"I can meet you at the safe house in half an hour, if that will work," Asami said.

Exactly half an hour later, Asami was letting the Avatar in through the upper floor window she seemed to have chosen as her favorite. They got down to business right away.

"I've got two mobile versions of the detector up and running," Asami explained. "One in my sedan, one with one of my agents. There's a third model for the Medium to operate. I've fitted them up with directional antennas. The precision isn't what I'd like, but triangulating from three different locations around the city should allow us to narrow the location down pretty well. The Medium has instructions to relay the location to you, in case that's faster than you tracking it down on your own."

The Avatar nodded. "Thanks. It's good to have the option."

"I've passed on what we've learned so far to my contact in the police," Asami continued.

"The one I saw you with that first night we actually met? Makes sense. Do we know much that they didn't?"

"Only what you'd expect. The fact that we faced an actual Spirit at the Cabbage Corp factory was news. And I gave him technical details of the device, since they've never seen one intact. Unfortunately, they also haven't learned much that we don't already know. I got a report today that they confirmed there was another fake employee at Cabbage Corp like at Varrick Tower. Probably the same man, judging by the descriptions. Which might make it difficult for him to pull the same trick a third time."

"Which is good as long as he's working alone," the Avatar said. "Care to take odds on that?"

"No bet," Asami said. "You're right. This is too elaborate for one individual. Well, that's my side of things. How about you?"

"I'm afraid my progress isn't as impressive," The Avatar began. She then proceeded to outline her theory that the M-rays were in fact some form of spirit energy. Her researches into what it did and how to counteract its effects. Her possible discovery of a suspect and probable discovery of a map that provided a guide to future trouble spots. Asami listened and tried to figure out how the Avatar's report could possibly not count as "impressive."

"Would it be treading on your toes if I broke into this professor's office?" she asked. "I doubt he has anything incriminating just lying around, but I wouldn't mind a look at that map myself."

"Knock yourself out," the Avatar said. "Covert entry is more your skill set than mine. I just wish I knew if I could trust him or not. If he's not involved, his advice could be really useful."

Asami considered this. "You could try approaching him anyway. You're prudent to not to take your personal intuitions as fact, but don't ignore them either. You've shown good instincts where people are concerned, and your first instinct is to trust him. Go in with your eyes open. If he's crooked, you might lull him into a false sense of security."

The Avatar laughed. "I got similar advice earlier this week. It sounds a lot more sensible when you give it, though. Of course, I think my other adviser pictured me going in my civilian identity and acting the femme fatale."

Asami nearly choked. "That's... an interesting suggestion."

The Avatar shrugged. "She's twelve."

"Twelve?"

"The Order of Raava is kind of hard to explain. Anyway, it's worth a shot, if I can figure a way to approach him that won't make him suspicious of my true identity."

"In that case, I'll hold off on the break-in," Asami said. "We don't need to complicate things."

"Keep that idea in your pocket," the Avatar said. "I don't like how much time is passing. The Voice is going to want to keep public attention focused on him. He's going to make another move soon. And we still don't have a better strategy than find his device and smash it as fast as possible. Can you figure out a way to jam M-rays, the way you would jam a radio signal?"

Asami shook her head. "Jamming's not a matter of eliminating a signal. It's a matter of drowning it out with something... stronger." She trailed off.

After a pause the Avatar said, "What? What is it?"

"I just had an idea. I don't think you're going to like it."

Opal's desk phone rang. She picked up the receiver and tucked it between her head and shoulder so she could keep typing. "Opal Beifong speaking."

"Miss Beifong," said a familiar voice. "Do you have time to talk?"

Opal stopped typing immediately. "With you, definitely. Do you want to meet somewhere?"

"Over the phone will do for now," the Avatar said. "I was hoping you'd be interested in another exchange of favors."

Opal grinned as she got a pad an pen at the ready. "Yes, I think you could say I was very interested. What can I do for you?"

"I'm interested in finding people who experienced headaches or other physical discomfort during the incidents with the Voice of the Spirits. I know some of them talked to the papers. Perhaps you have some names you could share?"

She scanned her desk trying to remember what folder that information might be in. "Most of them are cranks, I'm afraid. I should be able to find a few names of people who I think were being honest. They'll be the ones from the first night. There were still plenty of people who jumped on the bandwagon once they knew something strange had happened, but some had convincing stories. No one who's come forward claiming to experience anything during the second broadcast has a story that passes the smell test."

"You'd want to look for people who didn't experience anything until after the end of the broadcast. If they're telling you it happened while he was yakking on the radio, then yeah, they're lying."

"Now that's an interesting tidbit from my perspective. How do you know that?"

"I felt it myself. Both nights." Opal gave a low whistle as she took notes. "I'd appreciate it if you don't make that detail widely known," the Avatar continued. "I'd rather not give anyone any bright ideas."

"Fair enough," Opal said. She frowned in puzzlement. "What do you want to talk to these people for? They don't sound like they'd be suspects."

"More like witnesses than anything else. Here's where my half of the exchange comes in. I can tell you what I know, although I've got to warn you it will sound pretty far-fetched. You might not want to print it just yet, since I can't give you much in the way of proof."

"Having too little to publish yet is a normal phase in investigative journalism. I'm happy to take what you can give me."

"The Voice of the Spirits isn't the friend to Spirit-kind he pretends to be," the Avatar said. "He's using some machine to torment Spirits. They attack where the machine is to stop the pain. That's what happened at Varrick Tower, that's what happened at Cabbage Corporation."

Opal sat up straighter. "Wait a minute. Is that the machine Mr. Varrick gave you on the first night?"

"Ah, you know about that. Yes. I've got to admit, getting that intact has been a big help. Fortunately, destroying the antenna was good enough that first night, although I'm not sure why. Something still doesn't add up there."

When it sounded like there wasn't any more to come from that train of thought, Opal steered the conversation back on track. "I'm still not clear how this connects with the people who suffered during the attacks."

The Avatar was quiet for a moment as if marshaling her thoughts. "My theory is that they're all people with an innate sensitivity to the Spirits. The machine doesn't just do something natural that the Spirits don't like. It's projecting some sort of spiritual energy that's been adapted to hurt them. I don't think the people are the target, but they're getting hurt anyway." There was another pause on the line. "To be honest, I'm grasping at straws here. I don't have the background to understand the technology. My only thought is maybe I can figure out what it's doing if I understand more about its victims. And I can't really interview the Spirits."

Opal chewed her lip. The Avatar's remarks had struck an unexpected chord. "I can get you some names of people to take to, sure. I might have something better to offer you, though."

"Oh?"

"I... know a guy who's studying this sort of thing. Studying Spirits from a scientific perspective. Honestly, I always thought it was a bit crazy. Until now. Right now, he sounds like just the man for the job."

"That sounds really, really useful," the Avatar said, although there was a definite note of caution in her voice. "But how well do you know this 'guy'? Is he someone you trust?"

"To be honest, he's my oldest brother. So I mostly trust him. Do you have siblings? Never mind, don't answer that."

"If he'd be willing to help..."

"I'm pretty sure he'd be thrilled to meet you," Opal reassured her. "I'll get it arranged as soon as I can. It might be a few days. He'll probably have a lot of questions of his own, mind you."

"I can't promise to answer before I know what they are. But anything within reason, sure."

"Great! Mind if I sit in when it happens?"

"That sounds only fair. Thank you. Anything else I can do for you?"

Opal laughed. "Pictures of Spirits would look really good on the front page."

"I don't know that I'll be able to help you with that," the Avatar said apologetically. "I wouldn't know how to find one unless a new attack was happening. And then I won't have time to alert you. The best I can do is try to be a little extra visible when I'm on my way to wherever its going down. It would be up to you to follow if you could."

"I was kind of kidding."

"Oh."

"But if you could do that visibility thing without much trouble, that would be really nice."

The Avatar snorted. "Keep your eyes on the skies," she said, and hung up.

Opal leaned back in her chair in thought. "Watch the skies." She grinned and got up to head back to Moon's office. Maybe with her editor's help, Opal could get Varrick to do something useful toward getting the big story he wanted.

Korra paced the rooftop of the Empire Bank. Opal Beifong had come through and arranged a meeting between the Avatar and her brother. Korra felt a little guilty for manipulating the reporter to take advantage of a family connection, but that wasn't the worst of it. Baatar wanted to meet tomorrow night, after giving his public lecture. And Korra was supposed to finally have a night out with Asami then. This would make three broken dates now, and so far Korra had nothing to show for it but guilt and frustration. Asami was always understanding. Too understanding. She'd agree to reschedule, make out like it wasn't a big deal. But Korra could hear the stress in her voice. Asami was worried, and who could blame her when her so-called girl friend kept avoiding seeing her. Korra had her duty; she had to meet with Baatar. If Asami forgave her, it would be more than she deserved.

"Whoever you are, Mr. Voice-of-the-Spirits, if you've messed up my private life, I'm taking it out of your hide," she muttered to herself.

When the pain flared in her head, it was almost a relief. Finally, a chance for action. She took three deep breaths, concentrating. The pain retreated, not gone but pushed into the background. She snapped her kite open. "Show time."