Chapter 05 - 唔衰攞嚟衰
"S-so I said… hic… Sonzai Ekkusumé! If I had a rifle, I-I'd shoot you right between the eyes."
My life was over. My life was over.
My life was over. My life was over.
'Miss Müller?' said the young healer. 'I'm afraid I have some bad news.'
"W-whoaaa~" slurred the Feline draped around my breasts. "You sure showed that S-Son's Eye guy who's boss! No... hic... surrender!"
"Iwis, for whosoever tholes for aught larger than herself is, parfay, a hero," lamented Pallas.
I didn't know what this Forte lady was saying, but I toasted her anyway. "Exactly! Prost!"
"If I was… hic… If I was you, T-Tanja, I woulda given him the old one-two!" said the Durin hugging my other arm.
"Believe me! If I could hit devils, I-I woulda done more than that!" I said. "I'd have c-crushed…! Hic…! And seen his sheep driven before me!"
I waved a fist. Damn you, Being X!
"You're so intense, T-Tanja," marvelled my new Feline friend. "Even Louisa isn't that… hic… that intense."
Durin threw her empty beer can at the television.
"Another!" she roared.
The door slammed open.
"Francine!" screeched the newcomer. "She's supposed to be on observation!"
Francine's eyes widened and she smiled.
"Louisa! Just in time!" she crowed. "We've got peanuts!"
Louisa—no, Dr. Louisa, she was the one who diagnosed me—exhaled slowly and rubbed her brow.
"I know you've had a rough day, Miss Müller, but I would give your injuries some time before partaking in ethanol. I came here to tell you that Dr. Kal'tsit is leaving for Lungmen tomorrow. She says that if you'd like to return, travelling with her might be your only chance to enter the city. By the time the Rhodes Island landship arrives, we suspect they will have enacted a strict lockdown."
Huh? Lungmen?
I blinked.
"I thought we w-weren't heading to Lungmen," I said. It was the closest city, but there had been no such plans.
Dr. Louisa nodded politely.
"Some circumstances have arisen. Dr. Kal'tsit can explain tomorrow. In the meanwhile, I've had somebody set an alarm by your bedside." She paused. "I must ask you to return to your room in the medical ward. We've closed up your injuries, but you aren't entirely out of the clear."
"G-got it," I said with a nod. Drinking was pretty bad for wounds. I guess.
Suddenly Dr. Louisa's mild expression twisted into a glare.
"And you…!"
I winced as poor Francine was tugged out of her seat by the ear.
"Owowowowowow! Louisa, i-it's going to come off!" she cried.
"What were you thinking?! Not only do you have work tomorrow and training in the afternoon, but to drag a patient into this too?!"
As Dr. Louisa manhandled Francine, Durin and Pallas could only look on in wide-eyed horror. I imagined I looked much the same.
Right. Never annoy your doctor.
"W-we were trying to cheer her up!"
"Hah… You just… I'll deal with you later." She turned to me. "Miss Müller?"
"Y-yes?"
"Can you walk? I'll escort you back to your ward."
I looked at my new companions, but they wouldn't meet my eyes.
Traitors!
In the end I allowed Dr. Louisa to help me stumble out of the room. I probably wouldn't have managed without her.
"Honestly, that girl…!" she muttered. Here, I wisely decided to keep my mouth shut.
The hallways of Rhodes Island were wider and better decorated than those of the landship we arrived on. The floors themselves were more impressive, with sharp prints of their company logo set at regular intervals beneath glass tiles.
It was a pretty fancy place for Infected to live. Back in Lungmen, they'd be living in a ghetto.
"I'm sorry about what happened to you. My adoptive parents were from Chernobog."
Huh?
I raised my eyes.
"My foster father hurt his arm in the riots," she said quietly. "They only just managed to get out safely."
I frowned.
"I'm… hic… sorry to hear that," I said. "Are y-you close?"
"…Not particularly, but they treated me well."
I guess that was how I felt about the aunties at the orphanage too.
"It's not the end of the road, you know?"
"Hic…! Pardon me?"
"The Oripathy." Dr. Louisa kept her eyes straight ahead. "I've got it too. Many of us do. There are still paths open to us. We're more than just the illness."
Yes, I could be a miner in an Ursine death camp, a counterfeit purse merchant in a Lungmen slum, an exploited cotton farmer in Columbia, or a petty shopkeeper in some Leithanian quarantine zone. So many options, I thought glumly.
Better yet, I could be an employee on this landship that regularly drove towards danger.
"It doesn't seem t-that way to me," I finally said.
The rest of the walk back was made in silence.
Before she left, Dr. Louisa showed me the display for the alarm clock.
"It's set to seven hours from now. Dr. Kal'tsit will be departing at 7AM sharp, so you'll have a little over half an hour to wash up before she comes to find you."
"Thank you, doctor."
"Sleep well, Miss Müller." She nodded at me and left the room.
I stared silently at the dark ceiling. The alcohol made it easy to drift off.
When I woke up, the hospital ward was still dark, save for the dim light coming from the hallway outside. It was too early in the morning for most to be awake, so my room was quiet except for the hum of the medical equipment. The air was cool when I reached out from beneath the covers to scratch my ear.
I didn't really need to be here. Their medical casters had closed my stomach up just fine after the surgery, and laying in a hospital bed wasn't going to help my— my Oripathy. I was otherwise fine. My gut was a little sore, which I'd been told was the regenerated muscle, but I wasn't even hungover, I noticed.
They had me stay here, apparently to ensure I wouldn't be readmitted as soon as I was discharged, but I wondered if maybe they'd considered me at risk of doing something drastic. Perhaps others in my situation had done so before. As I'd learnt, many of the staff in this company were fellow Oripathy patients, so attempting self-harm for catching it would have been rather rude.
My gaze wandered about the room.
There was a small television mounted onto the wall near the door. A few other monitors were dotted around the room showing various medical data feeds, one of which I could see from where I lay. The last thing I wanted to do right now was stare too closely at a reminder of my illness, so I ignored it.
I sighed and gingerly stretched on my hospital bed.
At least the mattress was soft and smooth. I shifted to get more comfortable, as the floral-scented sheets felt like silk on my legs. It was nice, and made the place feel pleasant despite the clinical equipment. Not as good as home, but I wouldn't be calling that apartment home much longer, whatever my decision.
I checked the time. 5:00AM. Still a little while until the alarm by my bedside was set to go off. I fiddled with the unfamiliar machine until that alarm was cancelled, and then crawled out of the bed. There was a small bathroom attached to the private patient room, so I put on the slippers they provided me and shambled over.
When the door was locked and my clothes were off, I took a long look at myself in the mirror. Despite the life-changing Oripathy, I looked otherwise the same as this time yesterday, save for some bruises beneath my sternum. They had been affected by the Arts used to treat my stab wound, and were already turning green with decomposed haemoglobin.
Dr. Louisa told me that I could expect to see black Originium markings form at the site of the wound over the next few weeks. There was no stopping the progression of Oripathy, not with the best drugs in the world, but it could be slowed. As long as I took my prescribed medicine, it wouldn't advance beyond that stage for a long while. With a shirt on, it would look like nothing had changed, but I was now marked regardless.
I sighed and went into the shower.
After fiddling with the control for a while, I managed to nudge the water into a comfortable temperature.
I allowed the warm spray to hit me in the face while I thought about what to do.
Paths open to the Infected…
Yesterday, in the hours I'd been waiting on my lab results, I was given the chance to chat with the other patients and staff. All of them had been sympathetic, and more than a few staff members hinted at the possibility of recruitment. Apparently Rhodes Island was willing to hire all sorts, in exchange for treatment. Considering they were a prospective employer, it was inevitable that we discussed Rhodes Island's culture and history. To my surprise, Rhodes Island had only been around for a scant two years.
They had thousands of staff, a mobile headquarters, and an impressive security team that boasted veteran fighters who fought with zeal and fervour. None of that came easily, nor cheaply. It was obvious that a lot of capital had gone into starting this company.
Some might consider this a case of a philanthropist concerned with doing good, but after hearing the details, I was less sure that was all. If that was the whole story, there was hardly a need to plant your youngest heir within the charity itself. Even sweaty and dressed in urban warfare equipment, I would be hard-pressed not to recognise the heiress to one of Columbia's biggest players.
A brief chat with some of the medical staff indicated that the security group was far larger than just those I'd seen in Chernobog. Still small in relative terms compared to the company as a whole, and certainly tiny compared to a national military, but still large in absolute terms, and well equipped. It wouldn't have been strange to consider them a dangerous paramilitary force. And nobody kept employees that served no purpose.
I frowned as I unwrapped a new bar of soap.
Well, that wasn't strictly true. Back in Japan there had been plenty of companies that were committed to keeping employees for life, but those could only keep to such a stagnating, backwards policy due to their age, size, and government support. That wasn't feasible or logical in a company as young as this one.
And while it was a welcome surprise to me personally, I was surprised to discover the affordability of their pharmaceuticals, even to people living in decentralised backwaters. These weren't just cheap generics, although they manufactured those too, but also some of the cutting-edge medicines they developed themselves. Stranger still, if some of the medical staff were to be believed, they were only distributing through private channels because the company was 'too small to handle the attention stepping into the public market would bring'.
While they certainly sold medical technology as well, by all accounts Rhodes Island was deeply involved in the development of Oripathy medicine. How was Rhodes Island funding its research if not by making drugs publicly available? Considering the poverty-heavy demographics of the Infected, price gouging only those who could afford it could never be enough.
While I'd never worked with pharmaceutical companies in my history with C&H, the Terran business model was largely the same as Earth's. Following the scoping and capital evaluations, there was a large outflow of resources during the R&D phase, in order to create a product that was cheap to manufacture. The returns came from the period in which the developer held the patents, where the price was fixed at a point that maintained a delicate balance between 'cheap enough to remain competitive' and 'expensive enough to recoup the research expenses'.
Whether it was to governments shouldering the price through subsidies, or to the patients themselves in societies with fewer social safety nets, the result was the same. Anybody who wanted to recoup their development costs would be selling their drugs at a marked-up price until the patent period was over, unless they either wanted to go bankrupt, or money wasn't a concern.
And these people weren't even selling them publicly, let alone at a proper price. If funding for the research wasn't a concern, then why? How? The unlucky rich could contract Oripathy, but was I supposed to believe Rhodes Island ran entirely on donations?
As I rinsed the suds off my body, more gingerly when it came to my tender abdomen, I thought through the facts again.
In the end, I suspected it went back to what their private army signified. Medic told me that Rhodes Island maintained their security force because they treated Oripathy patients in areas with poorer public safety.
Plenty of local rulers would be willing to pay top dollar to outsource the messiness of 'Infected management services', and hiring leading experts like Rhodes Island made for great optics. A frustrated Infected populace was less likely to react with hostility to Rhodes Island's own Infected medical staff, and the security force was there to dissuade those who might be inclined regardless. If things got out of hand, the Rhodes Island operatives could do worse than just dissuade, and whatever casualties, it was 'just Infected' to the rulers, anyway.
And if a generous benefactor happened to require a few violent favours, what was more convenient than plausibly deniable connections with a small private army that had a legitimate, humanitarian reason to go anywhere?
If I was correct, that was the reason for their appearance in Chernobog, regardless of the official story. There was coincidence, and then there was coincidence, and it wasn't every day that a group like Reunion took over a city.
As appealing as Rhodes Island seemed to be at a glance, whatever game it was playing was too high-risk for my tastes, even in a non-combatant role. Political purges didn't tend to differentiate, after all.
Of course, I knew better than to test young geniuses like Miss Amiya, but underestimating people was ever a shortcoming of those in power. I didn't want to be there if they eventually butted heads with their shady patrons.
Wherever I decided on, Rhodes Island would not be it.
Feeling refreshed, I stepped out of the shower. I glanced at the mirror again.
In my last life, I wore my hair long. It wasn't my preference, but simply the studious maintenance of military standard appearance. While Special Major Hildebrandt was insistent on certain types of brushes, and even sent her half-sister von Edelreich as a delivery girl, all it really called for was properly-combed long hair.
'In order to promote an awareness of gender differences, female officers below the age of conscription must maintain shoulder-length hair or longer.'
In the era before flight mages, the only female officers were the ceremonially commissioned imperial princesses, and other young girls of the aristocracy. There were countless holdover regulations that only made sense in that context.
It wasn't all bad. Sometimes this worked in my favour; for example, the requirement of special lodging. But then sometimes it led to the ridiculousness of sporting long hair in the trenches of the Rhine.
As a result, I'd long made peace with certain expectations of femininity, and in this life my preference was to wear a ponytail. It cultivated a certain image of approachable professionalism, and to be honest I liked the way it swished.
I still mostly considered myself a man, but who said a man couldn't be an elite businesswoman?
I turned my head side to side and frowned. My antler was still chipped, which ruined some of the effect.
There wasn't much I could do about that, though, so I moved on and began drying myself.
I considered putting the patient wear back on—not a backless gown, thankfully, but a cotton jacket and trousers—but decided that there wasn't much point. I'd have to change out of these soon enough, anyhow. The towel was left neatly folded atop the counter, and the already folded patient wear atop that.
I opened the door and stepped into a room with Dr. Kal'tsit inside. I shot a glance at the clock. She was early.
"Miss Müller. How are we feeling?"
I might have felt more comfortable if this was a bathhouse, and she was naked too, but the situation left me feeling a little self-conscious.
"Like I'd like to put some clothes on."
"That's fair," she said. "Would you like me to step outside?"
I gave my head a furious scratch, but quickly shook my head.
"It's fine, thank you."
She politely turned around anyway, so I hurried over to the bedside and tore open the clean plastic packaging to get to the clothes inside. I hurriedly stepped into the new underwear, and then reached into the closet for my bra. The clothes I'd come in had been kindly washed and dried, but there was no saving my blouse.
Instead, I reached into the packaging again and pulled a nondescript T-shirt on, before stepping into my suit pants. As an afterthought, I put my jacket on properly. The air conditioning kept the ward warm, but we might be stepping outside.
After slipping out of my hospital slippers and into my high heels, I was presentable.
"Thank you," I said when I was done.
Dr. Kal'tsit gave me a once-over, and nodded.
"It's going to be cold in the hangar. Did Dr. Francine explain the circumstances to you?"
I frowned.
"I don't think so, no."
It was possible that she'd done so after the drinking had begun and I'd just forgotten, but I was hardly going to tell Dr. Kal'tsit that.
The good doctor massaged her brows. Ah, the pain of unruly subordinates. I knew it all too well.
After a moment, Dr. Kal'tsit fixed me with a sober look and explained.
"Waves of refugees from Chernobog have been moving towards Lungmen. We have reason to suspect that Reunion will attempt to repeat their success in Chernobog by infiltrating them."
I couldn't help my frown.
"Lungmen is not a jumped-up backwater like Chernobog," I said a little hotly.
The city had been very good to me. Although that was unlikely to continue with my new condition, comparing it to Chernobog of all places?
"The reports from Rhodes Island's operators were concerning. Teams of well-trained personnel within Reunion, undoubtedly ex-military, and at least three particularly highly dangerous individuals. An assassin, as well as a marksman and medic pair that you encountered."
I must have been wearing a blank look on my face, because Dr. Kal'tsit elaborated.
"It wouldn't have been obvious to a civilian like you, but together, the marksman and medic pair proved to be remarkably formidable commanders."
Dr. Kal'tsit tilted her head in thought.
"I suppose this may seem like a farce to the woman who ran one of them down with a truck and escaped unscathed, but this evaluation came from trustworthy combat veterans."
Oh, this was starting to sound familiar.
It was a little difficult to believe that anybody so supposedly dangerous had been defeated by a delirious businesswoman in a civilian vehicle. If any of the 203rd had let that happen, I would have gotten in the truck and run them over a second time.
Rather than try to convince me further, the doctor simply shook her head.
"Nevermind. We should have some time before anything happens. It won't be too late to change your decision after some time in Lungmen to gather your thoughts. You will be coming, correct?"
I nodded.
"I appreciate the ride," I said.
Dr. Kal'tsit nodded impassively.
"I'm heading to Lungmen to speak with the governor. Hopefully he'll come to a different conclusion than you did."
I wasn't sure what to say, but that turned out to be fine, because Dr. Kal'tsit made for the door and gestured for me to follow.
"Are you ready to leave?"
A quick pat of my left breast reassured me of my ID documents, so there was really nothing else left to take.
The walk to the helipad was made in silence, but plenty of Rhodes Island staff were already working. I had been too distracted with my own thoughts to notice yesterday, but the personnel were really quite diverse.
A Goliath engineer here, an Archosaurian over there.
Come to think of it, I had been drinking with a Durin yesterday, hadn't I?
When we entered the hangar, there was a young woman fiddling with a helicopter.
"Closure."
The so-named Closure turned around with a hop.
"Kal'tsit!" she beamed. "And who's this?"
"The young woman from Lungmen that Amiya rescued in Chernobog," Dr. Kal'tsit said, with a wave in my vague direction.
Closure stood with arms akimbo and eyed me up and down.
"Is this another one of those ducklings for your 'Abduction and Conversion Procedures for Infected Prisoners'?"
"It's 'Acquisition and Cultivation Procedures for Infected Personnel', Closure," Dr. Kal'tsit said humourlessly. "And no, Miss Müller is just sharing a ride with me."
Closure eyed Dr. Kal'tsit with an exaggerated rise of the brow. With a shrug, she turned around and presented the rear door of the helicopter with a grandiose flourish.
"Well, whatever. Behold, the newly refuelled 'Bad Guy', ready for all your flying needs! Wow! Incredible!"
Dr. Kal'tsit huffed. "Are we ready for takeoff?"
"Dylan's just waiting ahead," Closure confirmed.
"We'll leave now then," Dr. Kal'tsit decided. Without another word, she stepped into the helicopter.
"Thank you, Miss Closure," I quickly added as I followed her in.
"Did you hear that, Kal'tsit?!" she exclaimed. "I'm a 'Miss Closure', now!"
The helicopter door shut in her face.
"Let's go now, Dylan," Dr. Kal'tsit said through the door to the cockpit.
Not long afterwards, the VTOL began to take off.
I did wish I'd gotten a chance to say goodbye to my new drinking companions. It was very kind of them to try cheering me up. Rhodes Island would be heading to Lungmen too, but I doubted I'd ever see any of them again.
Something I hadn't noticed when ferried out of Chernobog was that this VTOL was pressurised. Why? Who would bother on a low altitude aircraft?
"We'll be arriving in Lungmen shortly," said Dr. Kal'tsit.
"Thank you," I said.
I suppose it was time to decide on a course of action. As much as I enjoyed my stay in Lungmen, there wouldn't be much of a place for me now.
Oripathy was largely a poor person's disease. Catching it excluded you from most job markets, and if you were poor already, many of the jobs available put you at much greater risk of Oripathy.
Having said that, accidents did happen, and the rare wealthy person could catch it too. But in Lungmen, as I imagined in most places, the resulting lifestyle couldn't be more different.
While nobody liked the Infected, in the end, people made exception for family. The unfortunate rich man who found himself with Oripathy was likely to see his relatives set him up in luxury. Unlike the poverty surrounding him, he could be expected to be tended to by servants in protective equipment, and Infected hired for cheap. Life as a princeling of the slums would continue until he was cut off from that wealth, or he died.
I was an orphan, and had nobody both willing and able to do that for me, nor did I have assets that could last me a lifetime.
While my salary classified me as 'wealthy', that was an indicator of my potential income. I still had to work in order to be worth anything, and that was just not going to happen now that I was an Infected. My mentor, Qiying, was a pragmatic man, and nobody would tolerate an Infected in their head office. Even if Qiying was willing to overlook it on behalf of my competence, my rivals, not to mention his, would not.
And while Lungmen didn't explicitly forbid the Infected from workforce participation, the jobs that were actually available to me were slim pickings if I didn't want to struggle with poverty.
So if not Lungmen, then where?
I suppose my best choice was to go home to Leithania. To distance themselves from the previous regime, Leithania under the Twin Empresses was adamant about treating the Infected like humans. Infected still weren't equal; the state was careful about where they lived, and in the end it would always be a poverty trap. I could claw myself into middle class at best. But at least it was a life free of danger and unreasonable exploitation.
I eyed Dr. Kal'tsit.
Yes, Leithania was the right choice. As mentioned, Rhodes Island distributed its best medicine affordably, and hadn't billed me much for their care. The Leithanian branch of C&H was ostensibly cooperating with my Lungmen branch, so ideally I could transfer to one of their minor offices. Whatever effective demotion I could work out, at least I wouldn't lose my employee veterancy.
Alternatively, if I was forced to leave the company, I could start up a small business in Wolumonde. I was originally saving up for a better apartment in Lungmen. While those funds weren't enough to retire on, I could buy a small storefront in the quarantine zone with enough start-up capital to get things moving. Perhaps I could get registered as an accountant. Oripathy wouldn't get you out of paying taxes in Leithania. Or I could provide wealth management advice. Having to pay for Oripathy treatments would just complicate retirement plans, after all.
It was nothing like the life I was aiming for, but it would be enough to pay for my treatment.
There was always the risk of the Witch King Loyalists finding me but, well, there were more realistic risks I had to contend with these days.
"Have you considered what you'll do going forward?" asked Dr. Kal'tsit. "It's going to be a harsh life, now that you're on the other side of the wall. We at Rhodes Island do what we do for the Infected, if you would like to join. We are always looking for talented personnel, and you would have a place where you could live without discrimination."
It wasn't exactly a trap. Although I was almost certain they were being funded as a political catspaw, the sad reality was that Rhodes Island was still a better lot than most Infected were handed.
Still, I had no interest in entering the company, but it would be impolite to so thoroughly burn bridges while they were giving me a free ride.
Everyone was being awfully persistent, though. Don't tell me I really was an Arts genius, and they wanted to train me for their private army?
I stilled. Was that part of the 'Acquisition and Cultivation Procedures for Infected Personnel'?
I sold my talents, not my body!
"I don't know," I lied. "Everything has changed so fast."
The enigmatic doctor hummed to herself.
"Rhodes Island will dock herself at Lungmen soon, if all goes well in my negotiation. You'll have time to decide."
Having come to a decision on what I'd do now, I suspected I would be on a flight back to Leithania by the time Rhodes Island arrived, but I nodded at Dr. Kal'tsit anyway.
When the VTOL began to descend, the pressurised rear door started to open up. The wind began blowing in, but it wasn't too cold.
It was still dark outside, but that was a function of the rain rather than the time.
Even from this low in the air, I could see the bright neon lights of Lungmen shining through the haze. It was funny. Even in weather like this, the low altitude of Lungmen's preferred circuit meant that it was warmer than it had any right to be.
If I ended up back in Wolumonde, near the Winterwisp mountains, I would be lucky to feel this warm on a sunny spring day.
When we landed, the rear door unfurled as a ramp onto the wet concrete of the hangar. Two masked Lungmen Guards were already awaiting us below.
"This way, please," one said curtly.
Dr. Kal'tsit did say that they were expecting her.
We were led into a spartan but civilian hallway, before I was gestured down another path. I suppose Dr. Kal'tsit must have communicated my circumstances in advance.
The walk to the processing office was quiet. My LGD escort hadn't said a thing. The curt one had gone with Dr. Kal'tsit, but it was hard to tell if this one was any friendlier. I suppose that was the point of the masks. Not all officers wore these, certainly not the ones I was used to seeing downtown, but I suppose they were either trying to intimidate Dr. Kal'tsit, or they were otherwise afraid of being Infected.
That was fair enough. Apparently person-to-person transmission of Oripathy was close to impossible in regular interactions, but that was true of lepers and AIDS patients as well, and I wouldn't want to get too close to them either.
The process for registering myself as a new Oripathy patient was thorough and arduous. When she realised I was a local, the Feline case worker was sympathetic, in an awkward, unsure way, but the process had still been excruciating in its level of detail. She went through my last recorded stage of Oripathy and Originium blood content—yes, it had been tested within the last month—and then went through everything from my place of birth to my criminal record.
Applications for a change of residence were going to be much the same thing, she warned, and I would have to leave my current zone of residence within the month. Thank everything I was planning to take the first flight out to Leithania tonight. Doing all that work, just to move into a slightly less pretty rooftop slum was not my idea of a good time.
My LGD chaperone had watched me the whole time, but that was all right. It was their job to be suspicious.
After obtaining my digital Oripathy certificate, I was finally able to leave. At least I didn't have to announce my Oripathy when hailing a taxi. There were plenty of places that would refuse service to any Infected.
"Where to, Siu Ze?" the driver asked as I stepped out of the rain.
I hadn't really decided, I realised.
"I'm heading Uptown," I said after a moment, and rattled off an address.
"Ah, the C&H building? Running late for work?" he asked with a smile, leaving the curb to turn into the traffic.
"Not quite. Do you take many passengers that way?"
"Not many, exactly," he said. "But it's a hard place to forget."
I suppose it would be. The street was designed to be imposing, and the corporate headquarters there much the same.
It didn't take long until we were on the highway. The lights of the traffic signs were a blur through the rain and windows.
The driver hummed. "Looks like taking the Blue Spire Link might be a bust."
I looked up at the holographic traffic indicators. Ah, congestion. Probably truck drivers making their deliveries, given that the rush to get to work was long over by this time of day.
That was probably not going to be an issue wherever I ultimately moved to.
"I'll take the West Dragon Highway, instead. Should be quicker," he said, changing lanes.
"Thank you."
I was almost going to miss this. Almost.
I thought about what I was going to do. One thing I was sure about was that I didn't want to be here if Reunion attacked. While I had full confidence in the LGD, an attack was an attack, and I imagined that Lungmen wouldn't be too kind to its Infected population after something like that. I'd rather not get caught up in a pogrom.
I was going to get my work affairs in order—whether that meant leaving the company or a transfer, I was yet to see—and depending on that, buy a ticket to somewhere in Leithania. If my ultimate destination was Wolumonde, I would probably pick the first nomadic city in the north, and then take a bus home.
As for my belongings and my apartment, thankfully there were plenty of things you could delegate to agents around here.
Soon enough, the taxi driver pulled over at the drop-off stands in front of the office.
"You take care now," he said.
"You too, uncle."
I paid with a swipe of my phone, and stepped out of the car, back into the wet.
With a hand over my brow to stop the rain, I beheld the towering skyscraper.
Coopers & Harding was a centuries-old Victorian firm that had truly grown in prominence during the 50s. Of course, it was only centuries-old if you counted the constituent ancestor firms of the merger, but that didn't sound quite as impressive to some of our aristocratic clientele. It was an ironic position to take, considering many of their lineage trees, but I was happy enough to describe it however would land us more clients.
The company had ridden the Victorian expansion to prosperity, and then declined along with it. When Kazdel occupied Londinium, the true head office fell out of prominence, while the branches, actually subsidiaries for tax purposes, began to compete.
Thankfully, the Leithanian branch wasn't too hostile to the Lungmen branch. At least, it wouldn't be too difficult for my mentor Qiying to pull some strings on the other side. I just wasn't sure about his willingness, now that I didn't have much to offer.
Still, if worst came to worst, and I was forced to leave the company, at least I'd see Wolumonde again. I didn't have the fondest memories of it, but I would like to revisit the orphanage. After all, I'd like to see where all my donated money had been going.
I stepped through the foyer, and ignored everybody inside. The conversation would just be awkward, anyhow. Qiying's message said he wouldn't be in a meeting for another forty minutes or so, so it was perfect timing.
When my elevator came, a swipe of my pass granted me access to the highest floor. Nobody else got in on the trip up, so I was undisturbed as I used the mirror to brush raindrops out of my hair.
The elevator doors opened to an opulent hallway.
A pond sat in the middle of the otherwise tiled floor, bordered by moss, small plants, and rocks. The centrepiece was a large garden stone, or artificial mountain as they called them in Yan, shaped like the karst-mountains the nation was known for.
The whole thing was arranged to evoke the imagery of a great natural lake below a misty mountain range.
Honestly I was kind of numb to it by now, but I pulled out my phone and took a photo regardless. I suppose it was something I could brag about later on.
I wasn't really looking forward to breaking the news of my Oripathy, but it wouldn't do to dawdle further. A few turns here and there, and I reached a small waiting room.
Before I could even ask anything, his assistant sent me in.
Stepping into the office, I found Qiying wearing a victorious expression, tending to that massive ginseng ficus bonsai of his.
"And she returns," he said with an upwards nod. "When I heard about what happened in Chernobog, I was honestly worried. Whatever would I do without my vicious little junior?"
When he stood, he did so with a spin, and leaned back smoothly against the window.
"But then I saw your message earlier, and I knew that the heavens were on my side."
He shot me a grin.
"Wanna do a line?"
I grimaced. I hadn't expected him to be so cheerful about my return.
"No thank you, Qiying. I…"
"Haha, I'm just messing with you. I know how uptight you get about drugs, Tanja. Tea, then."
Qiying reached under his desk and produced a gourd-shaped thermos and two small tea cups.
I fidgeted. "Qiying? I…"
Qiying didn't seem to hear me, pouring me a cup with an easy smile.
"What happened in Chernobog was out of anyone's control, so forget about the deal." He cocked a brow. "I told you that Wang was the one who put his weight behind the proposal anyway, right?"
"I— Yes, you did, Qiying."
"You should have seen the look on his face when I talked Old Liang into sending you there instead of his little cocksucker apprentice."
In retrospect, I would have greatly preferred that.
"That little slut kept talking like you died in Chernobog, you know?"
"Haha…"
"It's why I told you not to stress before you left. Deal goes well, that's good for us. Deal goes bad, too bad for Wang. Either way, we win, right?" Qiying held out my cup of tea.
I accepted with both hands and took a polite sip.
The well-dressed Lung was a large part of how I managed to climb the ranks so quickly.
I had demonstrated countless times that I was the right person for the job, but I wasn't in the habit of shying away from the truth. It would have taken years longer to climb the ranks if Qiying hadn't propped me up as his answer to Henderson Wang's own protégé.
Hopefully he'd help me land a new position before he found a new answer.
"Listen, the truth is—"
"Just wait until I tell him you're back. I can't wait to see that smug dickhead's face during the board meeting later."
Qiying smirked at me, and swept his hand through the air like he was showing me some great panorama.
"One day you'll get to see it yourself, Wang's famous look of constipation when things don't go his way."
"Qiying, I caught Oripathy!"
The air froze. You could hear a pin drop.
"…What?"
I swallowed thickly.
"In Chernobog I was accosted by members of an Infected terror group. They infected me with Oripathy."
Qiying's mouth was moving, but he seemed to struggle to find the words.
"No. No, no… if you're Infected then how are you supposed to get on the C-Suite, huh?!"
I wasn't sure what to say. I hadn't expected him to be this upset about it.
But before I could get a word in, he swept everything on his desk to the floor with a crash.
"What about my plans, huh?!"
I watched splinters fly as he lifted his chair above his head and shattered it on his beloved bonsai.
"I…"
"Fuck!"
After the third swing, he tossed the chair aside and started destroying the ornaments instead.
That vase was two hundred thousand dollars…
"Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit! Fucking shit fucker shit! Fucking diu nei lou dau ge sei tsat, fuck!"
I stood frozen in shock as my mentor continued to go through the stages of a mental breakdown. Qiying was an abrasive guy, but I'd never seen him lose his cool like this before.
He turned around and seized the calligraphy scroll on the wall, tearing it to shreds, before moving onto the decorative bamboo plants. Before long, all the pot plants in the office had been snapped in twain.
When I saw what he did next, I almost went to stop him. His legs trembled as he struggled to lift his favourite bonsai, but lift it he did, and then he slammed it into a sandalwood divider.
The pieces went everywhere. Some of the soil spilled onto my shoes.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Ham gaa tsaan, Wang, you motherfucking lan dak tsik piece of shit! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"
The screaming continued for another minute.
Qiying supported himself on his zitan wood desk, panting raggedly. I stood rooted to the floor as he eventually recovered and brushed his gelled hair back.
"And of course, you have my thoughts and prayers in this trying time, Tanja. Rest assured, Coopers & Harding won't hang you out to dry."
Nothing about what I'd seen left me feeling at all assured…
I frowned. If I wanted my favour, it'd be better to improve his mood first, I decided.
"It was a group called Rhodes Island that saved me," I said. I cleared my throat. "It was their operatives that carried me out of Chernobog, and their medical advancements that stabilised me."
Qiying was still panting, but didn't interrupt me, so I continued.
"From everything I've seen, Rhodes Island is an astonishingly capable startup, and they've only been around for two years. If we can get in early before they've already established lasting partnerships, we could stand to reap significant returns."
I paused for a moment, and added in a small voice,
"The youngest daughter of the Brinley Group appears to be stationed there to audit their movements."
My mentor fixed me with a sharp look.
"Tell me more."
While I had no doubt Rhodes Island was also a cutting-edge pharmaceutical company, I expected a lot of their income came from their other identity. I was hesitant to come right out and say it, but Rhodes Island was probably a wetwork outfit, occasionally for hire, but funded by a patron too. Almost certainly the Brinley group.
I leaned in and whispered to Qiying what I knew about their structure, operations—both pharmaceutical and suspected—as well as the assets I'd seen them boast. Finally, I told him of their field tactician Doctor, the enigmatic Dr. Kal'tsit, and most significantly, Miss Amiya.
No patron wanted a black-ops unit that they couldn't control. Rhodes Island was walking a tightrope between being dangerous enough to use, dangerous enough not to cross, but also not being too dangerous to permit. Any fourteen-year-old Cautus who could not only thread such a needle, but command the fervent loyalty of her operatives had, as they said in Yan, 'unlimited potential'.
When I was done, Qiying's expression was thoughtful. Now was my chance!
"S-so… I was thinking that I could introduce them to you." After all, if they ever had that falling out with the Brinley group, I'd be in Leithania somewhere. It was going to be somebody else's problem. "I've just forwarded you Dr. Kal'tsit's details. You could see if they'd be interested in some of our services long-term, or if perhaps they'd be willing to accept some investment."
"Hmm."
Qiying sat down on his desk and began that annoying tapping thing he did when he was thinking.
He was biting!
"Anyhow, I was thinking that you could help transfer me to a branch office in Leithania and…"
"Okay, you've convinced me." Qiying dusted his hands. "You said they extended an invitation to you, right? I'm going to get in contact with this Kal'tsit, and appoint you as our liaison."
Good, I somehow managed to— …Wait, what?
"I'm going to…?"
"It might not be quite what they expected when they invited you to live on their landship for treatment, but I think we can work something out."
…Had I oversold them?
"You know, you've always had a great eye for people, Tanja." Qiying slicked his hair back. "Almost as good as mine. If you say that this Amiya girl is a good horse, then I trust that she's a good horse. Get us, me and you, a foot in Rhodes Island's door. Butter them up. Spread their legs wide open."
"B-but, my transfer—"
Qiying snorted.
"I know I can be all business, but people aren't pot plants. After having you by my side all these years, you think I'd let you take a demotion in all but name and waste your ambition away in some sleepy Leithanian shithole?"
"No, but I never meant—"
"Don't think I don't see what you're trying to do by bringing Rhodes Island up. You'll get your wish. And none of that polite refusal nonsense either, you know I hate that shit." He hummed for a moment. "I might have to get a bit creative, but you'll be keeping your salary too."
No, no, I never meant that I wanted— I'd be keeping my salary?
"In return, I expect some results. Risk analysis, financials, logistics, legal hair-splitting, I already know you can do it all, so make yourself indispensable to them while they're still growing. And if you can get them amenable to selling us some of that 'special medicine' they're peddling, all the better. The enemy of my enemy, and all that, and some of those arseholes in the Columbian HQ could do with a fall off a balcony."
Before I could sort my thoughts out, Qiying waved his hand.
"All right, all right, now get out of my office. I still need to figure out what the fuck I'm going to do now."
With that, I was dismissed.
I found myself standing numbly by the curbside, contemplating the human condition.
A/N: I didn't really like this chapter but my beta-readers seemed to find it okay, so I've come around to it. I was so close to changing my plot outline to Tanja leaving the company to start a café in Wolumonde where she meets a nice Infected girl and strikes up a sweet romance. For six months. Then, due to some poorly chosen words she is declared an 'honorary Caprinae' and made leader of the 'Winterwisp Rebellion', which succeeds to her dismay.
Unfortunately, I'm too intimidated to even try writing romance. People who do shipfics are so bold.
1. Lungmenese translations:
Ham gaa tsaan - I hope your whole family keels over
Diu nei lou dau ge sei tsat - Fuck your dad's impotent dick
2. Yanese idiom: People are not plants (人非草木) - Humans are inherently sentimental creatures
3. My American friends kept trying to change 'pot plants' to 'potted plants'. I doubled down and added more instances of 'pot plants'.
4. Artificial mountain: Just google 假山. It's just a part of designing rock gardens to resemble landscapes.
5. Folinic is my favourite character. The angry, sad, angsty Japanese voice acting is the best. Especially when she goes off at you. And then apologises, but says that it's basically your fault.
I kept accidentally using her codename in the story, and a few even slipped through my proofreading. Oops.