Winter, ASC 170
...
Survival is simple. If you're not strong, you have to be smart. If you're not smart, you have to endure.
Wei's first coherent thought is: get up, kiddo. Walk it off. If you don't get up, they're going to make sure you stay down.
The world is bright and it sings with pain. He tries to focus his eyes, and discovers that he's in a large room with a high ceiling. There's gym equipment on racks, stacks of boxes, old furniture, forgotten things, the smell of dust.
Wei hauls himself to his feet and puts a hand against the wall; he follows the wall until he finds a door. He concentrates on walking. Each step requires focus. The door leads him to a corridor, and a breeze ruffles his hair. The end of the corridor is too bright to look at.
He can smell the sea, and smoke. He wonders why he has grit in his mouth.
He has no idea where the hell he is.
Has he been drinking? Maybe. That'd explain things.
Then someone grabs his right wrist and pulls like they want to wrench his arm out of its socket, and all he can hear is shouting and the distant wail of police sirens. His body moves of its own accord; his brain is still busy trying to unfuck itself.
He follows a grey-clad figure down flights of stairs. There are so many stairs. A shitload of stairs. Twice as many stairs as he needs in his life right now. Each step sends a jolt of pain up his torso, running right from his ass to the scruff of his neck. His spine feels like it's a telegraph wire transmitting bad news.
The sirens are getting closer; Wei still has a good ear for these things.
Shit, what has he done this time?
Whatever it was, he's not going to stick around to find out.
Finally, he finds himself in the underworld, which is all wet brick walls and stale air. He wants to tell his guide that he doesn't care what he gets reincarnated as in the next life, just so long as it's something poisonous.
Then he realizes that he's in one of the tunnels under the city.
The world lurches sideways, then stops as a hand grabs his elbow. He knocks the hand away and leans against the wall. He can still hear the sirens, although he's not sure if they're real. It feels like there's something embedded in his back. He tries to touch it, but it hurts too much.
"Sir?" says a male voice on his left. Wei can't see very well. "Sir. You're okay, you're okay. Sir, we have to go."
Well, if someone says he's okay, then that's good enough.
Wei makes himself keep moving. He feels like he should be angry about something, but he doesn't know what.
Maybe he'll run into the anger later. Anger is a very patient thing. It can wait.
The world lurches again, and he finds himself sitting on the back of a motorbike. One minute he's limping along, and then: bam, motorbike. The engine is as loud as his headache, and he can't look at the racing tunnel walls without wanting to puke.
Are they running away from something? He'd glance back to see if they bike is being followed, but that'd require moving his neck, which... yeah, no, that's not going to happen any time soon. His neck might be broken. He might even be dead already. That'd be novel. He's never been dead before.
The bike tears along for what feels like hours. Wei wants to close his eyes, but knows that he shouldn't.
Eventually, just when he's starting to believe that he's been stuck on a fucking bike in a shitty little tunnel forever and this is the entire extent of his miserable existence, the bike pulls into an alcove. Wei still has the presence of mind to note that there's already another bike propped against the tunnel wall, even though he feels like he left half his brain and most of his dignity back at... Well, wherever he was a moment ago.
The bike propped against the wall is a different model to the one he's on, but it has the same manufacturer. Future Industries. Hiroshi Sato's company. Wei knows Hiroshi Sato. Sad guy, decent when in a good mood. Good boss. Respected by his people. Kind of unstable, but the smart ones usually are, and... Huh.
Why would Wei know Hiroshi Sato? Because they've worked together. And why have they worked together? Because...
The bike's driver - the driver of the bike that Wei's sitting on - pushes out the kickstand, dismounts, and takes a bag from the back pannier. They then remove their mask. Turns out they're some Earth Kingdom-looking kid with short brown hair and a black eye. Wei knows the kid - he's known him for years - so it's going to be real awkward if he can't remember his name.
"I sent Biyu ahead to make sure the way was clear and tell Lan we were coming," the kid says, then stares at him. "You're not gonna flake out again, are you?"
"Thanks," says Wei. Yeah, Biyu's another familiar name.
The kid keeps staring, eyes large with worry. "You need help getting off the bike?"
"No, I can.." Wei tries to move his right leg over the fuel tank, but struggles. How the fuck did he get on the bike to begin with? Did someone pick him up and stick him on it? Was a hoist involved? "I...Yeah."
The kid offers a shoulder to lean on.
"Where am I?" Wei says, although he's not sure he'll like the answer.
"Tunnel under Thousand Hands street," the kid says.
When Wei doesn't reply, the kid adds, "We're a mile north of the Arena."
And that's when everything clicks into place.
The kid is called Zheng. Zheng is on the third chi blocking team. The third chi blocking team were posted in the east wing of the Arena; they were ordered to go after the escaped airbenders when the Avatar attacked. When the Avatar attacked, Amon went after her. When Amon went after the Avatar, Wei went after Amon, and-
Wait. Amon.
They were at the rally. That's how-
How he-
Fuck.
No.
Shit.
...
Well, that explains why everything hurts.
Wei lets out a very deep breath. He tries to think of something to say, and settles on, "Is there something stuck in my back? Because it's killing me."
Zheng raises his eyebrows, but leans around to check Wei's shoulders. "Your back looks fine, sir."
Wei has trouble believing that, but whatever. He could panic - if his spine is damaged, he's in trouble - but it wouldn't solve anything. And anyway, Zheng is watching, so panicking and throwing a shitfit just isn't a viable option.
A thought pops into Wei's head, unbidden, and quiet, without fuss: he wishes Amon had killed him. He tries to push the thought away, but it seems so reasonable.
"Thousand Hands street," Wei says, forcing himself to focus on the present. "That's... We're near Lan's place, right?" People's names and faces are coming back to him. Zheng, Biyu, Lan, Yi Rong, Amaguk, Gansukh, Jiru...
Zheng nods, starts walking down the tunnel, then pauses when he realizes that Wei isn't following. "Uh, this way, sir?"
"Yeah. I know. I know where I am," Wei murmurs, and makes himself put one foot in front of the other.
Lan's place is accessed via a ladder that's tucked away in another alcove. Wei climbs the ladder with Zheng just a few rungs behind; Zheng probably wants to make sure that Wei won't faint again and fall off.
The ladder leads to the basement of a medicine shop, entered through a trapdoor. It's too dark to see much, but Wei recognizes the basement by its smell. He straightens up (aughfuck, it hurts) and gets a faceful of dried mulberry leaves. There are bundles of herbs hanging from the ceiling. The scent helps him focus.
Wei pushes the herbs away from his face, and tells Zheng, "I need a radio."
"Right," Zheng says, and finds a light switch. A single bulb illuminates the basement with a yellow glow, revealing shelves crowded with murky things in jars. Zheng gently pushes against one of the shelves, and it slides back easily on hidden runners, revealing the compartment where the radio is kept.
Just as Zheng hefts the radio out and sets it down on an examination bench, Lan appears on the basement's stairs, arriving in a flurry of skirts and jangling bracelets. Her expression betrays little, and her voice is quiet as she asks, "What happened?"
Wei doesn't know how to answer.
"I think he's got a bad concussion. He kept spacing out on the way here," Zheng mutters.
"I'm alright now," Wei says, on principle.
Lan walks towards Wei and stands on tip-toes so she can inspect his eyes. It's hardly the first time she's had to do this since they've known each other.
"What happened?" Lan repeats.
"I'll explain later," Wei says, stepping away from her. "I have to contact Sato."
He hasn't yet worked out how he's going to explain things to Sato, but hey, he'll burn that bridge when he comes to it, or whatever. Wei shoos Zheng away from the radio set and makes the final few adjustments by himself. Then he dons the radio's headphones and tunes the device to the frequency used by the west airfield.
Very carefully, he taps out a code on the telegraph key, and listens for the response.
There's only the crackle of static.
Wei checks everything - the headphones, the settings, the cabling - and tries again.
The static persists.
Wei feels sick, but that might be the concussion.
He tunes to a different frequency, and taps in a different code, contacting one of their manned relay stations. The relay station respond just fine, so it's not Wei's radio that's the problem.
Wei tries the airfield again. In the privacy of his mind, he bargains with whatever ancestral spirits might still be listening: if you can get Sato to respond, I'll try to be a smarter person. I'll stop doing stupid shit. Please.
Nothing changes, though.
Wei takes off his headphones, afraid that the white noise might be messing up his ability to think, and rubs his temples. He lets himself wallow in misanthropy for a few seconds (Why isn't Sato answering? Why are people so useless? How the fuck did Sato become a millionaire despite being a gormless shitstain who should've been drowned at birth?), then turns to Lan. Lan is standing just a few paces away, idly chewing the end of her braid.
"Hey. Try and raise Sato for me," Wei, tells her. He wants to rule out the possibility that he's doing something wrong, because he can't quite yet believe that both Amon and Sato have failed him today.
Lan takes the headphones and holds one of the speakers to her left ear. She taps out the code (Wei watches to make sure she's doing it right) and holds her breath.
Wei counts ten seconds, and then Lan says, "Um, no one's responding."
Wei is beyond being angry. If anything, he wants to laugh. Laugh, and stab someone. "Alright," he says. "I'm assuming command in the meantime."
Ha ha, they're screwed.
The good news: Lan concludes from a cursory examination that Wei's back probably isn't broken. Maybe. Well, hopefully not. The battery for his kali sticks took the worst of the impact; Wei just has a massive bruise across his shoulders to show for it. Lan says the pain might be due to a herniated disc. She gives him some painkillers and dutifully offers the usual advice that Wei always ignores.
The bad news: there's everything else.
Wei radios a few of the other teams and ends up being bombarded with requests for information. Many of the messages are mis-keyed and incoherent. Wei's understanding of code isn't all that great, but he can still tell what most people are asking: what happened? What now? Help?
Wei has to take his headphones off and focus on his breathing for a moment. He won't be much help to anyone if he lets the fear get under his skin. He looks over at Zheng. "You saw the Avatar at the rally, right?"
Zheng is sitting on the basement stairs, picking at the calluses on his hands. He glances up. "Yeah. Sir."
"Where's the rest of your team?"
"Well, Biyu should be around someplace here, but the rest of the guys stayed at the Arena to help the First and Second teams stall the United Forces."
"What did you see after the Avatar attacked?" Wei asks. He needs to be sure that someone else knows the truth.
Zheng stares for a moment, as if the question is some kind of test, and Wei's heart sinks.
"It's alright," Wei says. "Just tell me what you think you saw."
"There was a lot of stuff going on. It was pretty confusing."
"I'll bet. Don't worry if what you say sounds crazy or whatever."
Zheng glances to Lan - who is a solemn, mute presence lurking in a corner - and seems to resign himself to something. "We were trying to find the airbenders, sir. Then Biyu rushed to the window and started yelling about a huge waterspout in the bay, so I went to look. The spout was there for, what, like ten seconds, and everybody outside just sort of stopped what they were doing to point and yell at it. I thought the Avatar was causing the thing but, uh... It wasn't. It was a guy."
"And what were people yelling?" Wei asks.
"I don't know. I couldn't hear them."
"This guy. Did you get a good look at him?"
"Sort of. He high-tailed it pretty quick, though."
"I see." Wei runs a hand through his hair. There's still plaster dust in it. He feels a pressing need to get very drunk. "Did you see where he went?"
"Not really, sir. Sorry."
Wei is about to ask Zheng if he saw the guy's face, but then someone opens the door at the top of the stairs, and a girl peers into the room. It's Biyu - she's had the sense to change back into civilian clothes, but the mad gleam in her eyes says she's still got a combat buzz.
"I, uh. Sir," Biyu breathes out, "I was watching things from the roof. I just saw Yi Rong's signal light. He says they've definitely lost the west airfield. No one knows where Sato is."
Wei only nods, unsurprised.
Wei's first task as leader is to is to find out how many people are still in the game. It turns out: not many. The defense of the harbor was a shitshow.
As they're all pretty much fucked, Wei's second task is to tell the remaining airships to get away from the city. They can't afford to lose any more vessels. A single airship costs more money than he's ever seen in his life, and it's doubtful they'll have the resources to build new ones any time soon.
As the west airfield is a goner, all the remaining aircraft will be using their backup landing locations. They all can sort themselves out and refuel. Some quick repaint jobs will be in order.
Wei's third task is to tell all the radio operators on the ground to keep sending out a retreat message for the next three minutes before burning their code books.
Once that's done, He leans against the examination bench, and stares at nothing in particular.
He reflects: it's not first time he's lost a fight. It's not the first time he's been lied to. It's not the first time he's been unceremoniously dumped, either.
He starts laughing, which hurts.
"Sir?" Zheng says, loitering by the doorway. Biyu is back up on the roof, watching the skies with binoculars, while Lan is busy cramming a few last-minute things into an old carpet bag.
"I'm alright," Wei says. "Come on, let's get out of here."
Wei leaves Lan's basement and takes to the tunnels again.
Running away never really stops being humiliating. It's not something that gets easier with practice.
But what else can you do? The longer they stick around, the harder it'll be to get away. The current chaos is good cover for a retreat.
Still, there's something Wei needs to do before they leave the city.
Lan insists on going with him, as he's in no state to ride a Satocycle by himself, and she's best qualified to deal with him if he loses consciousness again. Zheng and Biyu will leave separately, taking different routes. Travelling together wouldn't make any of them safer, and Lan's probably the most (dangerous? uncompromising?) effective combatant in their little group anyway; Wei will have to stick with her for a while.
Lan hands him a gas mask - just in case they run into trouble - and says, "Where to?"
"Go down the tunnel south of Camellia Road, take the second turn," Wei says. He's pleasantly surprised that he can remember this, given the circumstances. "I need to get something from there."
Lan nods. She briefly reaches up to pick a splinter of wood out Wei's hair, but says nothing.
They take Zheng's bike, although they have to still make part of the journey on foot so Lan can scout ahead and disarm any traps. Eventually they make it to the basement of a safe house. Wei runs his hands over the walls until he finds some loose bricks. With a bit of work, he uncovers a wooden box, just big enough for him to tuck under one arm.
"You got anything you need to do before we leave?" he asks Lan. He doesn't want to leave the city. He shouldn't have to leave the city. It's his. He fought for it.
"I'm good," Lan says, though her voice suggests otherwise. Her back is turned to him as she keeps keeps watch by the doorway.
Wei tries to think of something to say, then remembers that he's never been very good at inspirational speeches. He heads back out to the tunnel.
From the safe house, it's a long drive north along a storm drain, then out and across the countryside and into the mountains, until the city is just a distant glow on the horizon. Wei stays doped up on painkillers for most of the journey, which is good, because Lan drives like a tiny maniac; Wei has to keep his arms wrapped around her waist to stop himself from falling off the bike. If he had a capacity for fear, he'd be terrified. And even with the painkillers, he still feels like he's being shanked in the ribs whenever Lan goes over a pot hole. He decides that he's too old for all of this. He doesn't want a revolution any more. He wants a bowl of congee and a nap.
They reach a valley some time in the late evening. One of the surviving airships is tethered at the bottom of it; the gas envelope is just visible within a cluster of trees. It's dark, but Wei can make out the figures darting around the airship's bulk, marked by the glow of their goggles.
Lan switches the bike's headlamp on and off a few times to identify herself. From the ship, another light signals back. The bike is allowed to drive straight up into the loading bay. As they pass through the hatch, Wei spots some battle damage on the airship's port side - a few long rents in one of the engine casings - and hopes that it won't be a problem.
Once they're safely inside, Lan quickly dismounts, hopping off the bike with enviable ease and flashing more leg than is strictly ladylike. Wei tries to follow her, but movement requires a degree of planning; he has to pause and try to think of a good way to straighten his shoulders that won't make him want to scream. Out the corner of his eye, he sees Lan stare at him. She then glances around to make sure that no one is watching, and discreetly offers an arm for support.
Wei manages to get upright and on his feet just in time as the ship's captain, Gansukh, jogs into the loading bay. The first words out of her mouth are, "Where's Amon?"
"Missing," says Wei. "Continue with the contingency plan."
Gansukh scowls. "What happened? First Jiru sent us the message that Amon was dead, then Amaguk sent us the message that Amon was captured, then we got something about waterbenders, then we saw the signal that the air field was gone, and then you sent the order to retreat. What's going on?"
Wei is very tempted to tell her that he doesn't have a clue. "It's complicated. Just continue with the contingency plan."
Gansukh doesn't budge. All she does is take a cigarette box from her shirt pocket, draw a toothpick from it, and pop the toothpick in her mouth. Her eyes remain on Wei's face the entire time.
Fucking Gansukh. She's always done whatever Sato asked, but whenever Wei tells her to do a thing, she gets an attitude problem. (And which bright spark decided that Wei's escape route would involve passage aboard Gansukh's ship? It was Sato, wasn't it? Thank you, Sato, you useless sack of lard.)
"Continue with the contingency plan. That was an order," Wei adds. If Gansukh wants an explanation, tough shit. Right now, he's incapable of explaining how he puts his own socks on, never mind anything to do with Amon.
Gansukh takes a deep breath, then turns away and heads back to the bridge.
Lan is busy making sure the bike is stowed away. She waits until Gansukh is out of earshot, then tells Wei, "You should lie down."
That's not a terrible idea, actually. Wei goes to a corner of the loading bay and sits on the floor. He uses his sleeve to wipe the sweat off his face.
Lan gives one last tug on a ratchet strap, ensuring that the bike is fastened to a bracket on the wall, and then she wanders after Wei. She crouches by his side, hugging her knees. "Will you now tell me what happened?" she murmurs.
Wei can't.
Wei has known Lan for four years, ever since they dealt with the firebender who was 'protecting' the lab where she worked. She's not the only medic in the organisation - heck, she's not even the best medic in the organisation - but she's easily Wei's favorite, given that she's small and quiet and non-judgmental and useful and has managed to pass numerous background checks.
He doesn't have the guts to tell her the truth. He'll break her heart, and then she'll break his by accusing him of lying. And then she'd tell others, and he's not sure if he's smart or charismatic enough to keep them from turning on him...
But if he doesn't tell her the truth, then what? The truth will have to come out sooner or later.
"Boss?" Lan prompts, very quietly.
"I'm not sure, kiddo," Wei says. "I'm sorry."
Lan lets out a little sigh, and stands up, bracelets chiming. "I'm going to fetch you a blanket. What should I tell Gansukh if she asks me what happened?"
"Tell her that, uh..." Of course, Wei can't think of anything.
"I'll tell her that you're high on painkillers and not making any sense."
"Hey, I'm pretty coherent."
Lan just raises her eyebrows. "Look, tell me if you have any nausea, difficulty breathing, numbness in your limbs, the usual, alright?"
Wei's had concussions before, and he's had suspected spinal injuries before. He can't remember his back ever hurting this bad, though. But even if he is horribly fucked up, what can any of them do about it right now? "Yeah, sure," he says.
"If you fall asleep, I'm going to wake you up every so often to check on you," Lan warns, walking to the bridge.
"Uh, yeah, no," says Wei. "That's going to be fucking annoying. Don't bother."
Lan pauses and looks back at him. "I have a responsibility."
"I don't think I'm gonna die in my sleep, but if I do die in my sleep, I'll die regardless of whether you keep ruining my nap or not."
"That's not..." Lan begins, and huffs. "Look, don't die in your sleep."
"I'll try not to."
"Good!" Lan says, and marches off.
Sleep comes easily, though. The hard floor feels good against Wei's back.
Lan, annoying little shit that she is, wakes him several times, and every time she wakes him, he tries to sit up and look for Amon before he remembers what happened.
Lan finally leaves him alone after he starts shouting at her. He's not sure what he says, but it's enough to make her go away.
Then he drifts. He dreams that a wolf has stolen his spine, and that he's chasing it through the slaughterhouse district.
Wei shivers. He swallows (his mouth still tastes like blood and plaster), and his ears pop. It takes a moment for his brain to register that he's still in the airship's loading bay; the coldness of the air tells him that they're at a good altitude. Daylight streams through the portholes. The noise of the engines sounds strange, somehow; a little lopsided.
Wei looks around for Amon yet again, then winces.
He looks around for Lan, instead.
Lan isn't around, though. The only other person present is Gansukh, standing just a few paces away from him - he recognizes her boots before he glances up and sees her scowling face.
What's her problem?
...Oh. Right.
He's sorely tempted to tell her to go fuck herself. He has much more right to be angry than she does, and if she's going to blame him for what happened, then-...
Then what?
He's injured, and he's disposable. He doesn't have Amon's abilities or Sato's bankroll. All he has is his knowledge of the organisation, and that just makes him a liability. Gansukh might as well just kick him out one of the bomb doors. Heck, maybe the only reason why she hasn't kicked him out of the bomb doors yet is because Lan would kill her for it.
"Mornin," he greets her, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders.
Gansukh crouches so they're eye-to-eye, and keeps staring at him, unamused. "We've lost the West Airfield, there's no word from Sato, people are saying that Amon betrayed us, Amaguk's gone quiet, and I've just got word that Yi Rong's dead and half his team is in jail."
Half of this is old news, but the bit about Yi Rong catches Wei off-guard. "Wait. Dead?"
"Jiru told us. The police cut off the escape routes in the Dragon Flats district barely an hour after the rally broke up. Yi Rong's the only death we know about, so far."
Wei last spoke to Yi Rong yesterday morning. He'd been fine just then. The thought of him being dead seems... Well, it seems stupid. If Wei didn't know better, he'd ask Gansukh if she was really sure that Yi Rong was dead, as if there could've been a miscommunication somewhere.
Wei knows he'll hear of more casualties over the next few days.
"How many airships do we have left?" Wei asks.
"Just the Wolong, the Kilat, and the Khagan." And they're already aboard the Khagan, so that makes a grand total of three.
They started off with a fleet of thirty.
Wei wants to pull his blanket over his head. "What kinda state are the Wolong and the Kilat in?"
"They're in better condition than we are. Huang says he's got the second and third chi blocking team aboard with him." Huang's in charge of the Wolong, while the Kilat is captained by some pointy-faced Fire Nation asshole called Takamori. They're Sato's people; Wei's never really had much to do with them, though he knows their histories and their habits. He knows where their families live. He knows enough to believe that they can be trusted.
"Has Huang got, like, everyone on the second and third chi blocking teams? Are they all accounted for?" Wei asks.
"Seems that way. No one's injured, they've not ran into any trouble, and the Wolong's making good time. It's already a few hundred miles ahead of us."
Wei lets himself feel a degree of relief.
"And where are we right now?" he asks.
"Somewhere near the Yi Wen coast."
"How long before we land?" Wei says. If Gansukh's sticking to the plan, then their destination is a small island, codenamed Nightjar, in the southern Earth Kingdom. There, they'll meet up with the remaining airships and have an assembly of sorts.
"Around ten hours, because our second port engine isn't working." Gansukh's eyes narrow, assessing him. "How're you feeling? Lan said you were in a bad way."
Heh, cute; as like she reckons he can't can't tell what she's thinking. (Bomb doors. Short drop to the ocean. No one would ever find his corpse.) "Yeah. I reckon I'm still fit to lead for the time being, though," Wei tells her. "Unless someone else wants the job of being the guy who'll get blamed when things go wrong."
Gansukh keeps watching him. "Can I speak frankly with you?"
"What, you're not speaking frankly already?" Wei says.
Gansukh doesn't even blink. "We're... in a bit of a pickle, aren't we?"
Wei wants to laugh. How's he meant to reply to that? "We just need to follow the contingency plan."
"You have no idea where Amon is, do you?" Gansukh asks.
Nope. And Wei can admit this, or he can come up with some bullshit, but he can't decide which would be the lesser evil.
The thing about Gansukh, though, is that she's always been more loyal to Sato than to Amon. If Wei is honest with her about what happened at the rally, maybe she wouldn't accuse him of lying. That's got to be worth something, even though it doesn't mean he trusts her.
He decides to be frugal with the truth, and answers, "No."
She doesn't look real surprised about this. "What happened?"
"What, at the Arena? Amon went after the Avatar, I went after Amon; next thing I know, I'm picking myself up off the floor."
"People are going to want answers," Gansukh says.
"Yeah," Wei mutters, "I'm aware of that."
"So what am I meant to tell my crew in the meantime?"
"Use your discretion. It's probably a hell of a lot better than mine right now."
Gansukh's expression darkens slightly, as if he's just confirmed every suspicion she's ever had about him. "Right. I'm currently trying to make an inventory of our remaining materiel. I guess we'll know how we're fixed once that's done."
"Yeah, sure." They have food, fuel, and a few spare vehicles stashed away as a precaution, but the loss of the airfield will really put a dent in their resources. Even if Amon hadn't turned out to be a subhuman piece of shit, it seems likely that they still would've lost the fight. Wei doesn't want to dwell on that right now, though. "You know how many of us are still in fighting condition at this point? How many arrests and casualties do you think we're looking at?" To say nothing of deserters.
"No idea yet."
"Yeah, it's probably too early to be asking that," Wei says. "Hey, listen - is there anyone on this ship who was present at the rally?"
"Sungchul and Guo were."
"How much did they see?"
"Guo was outside. He says he saw the waterbender, if that's what you're getting at."
"Did he get a good look at him?"
Gansukh's expression actually softens very slightly. "Guo had binoculars."
"I'm betting some of the people in your crew have drafting skills. Can any of them do portraits?"
"Sungchul can. I'll go ask him." Gansukh doesn't seem perplexed by his questions. That's a good sign.
"Yeah, please. Y'know, while things are still fresh in people's memory," Wei says.
Gansukh stands up - only pausing to take a half-chewed toothpick from behind her ear and put it between her teeth - and gives Wei a grudging nod. Then she turns and climbs back up the stairs to the upper deck, taking the steps two at a time.
Well, that conversation could've gone a lot worse.
Wei just sits on the floor for a while, fighting the temptation to lie back down and stay there until someone trips over him.
His back hurts.
Yes, he going to blame everything on that. His back hurts. That's why he's not in his right mind. His back hurts. No wonder he can't think clearly. His back hurts.
He decides that he'd better try moving around. Moving around is always a good idea, because it proves that all your limbs are still functional. With a bit of effort and a lot of swearing, he gets to his feet, leans against the wall for a few minutes, then goes to where Lan's bike is stowed. He hunts through the bike's pannier until he finds the wooden box he recovered earlier.
Then he rests the box on the bike's seat and tells himself to stop being such a fucking sadsack.
Inside the box are a some stacks of bills, a few chunks of platinum, fake identity papers, a cheap carving of a dragon, and a folded-up shirt. The shirt is just a simple, homespun thing, unwashed; Wei picks it up, begins to unfold it, then changes his mind.
What now?
Wei reminds himself that he's been in situations far worse than this and, so long as he manages to avoid prison and the triads, his circumstances aren't that bad. So people have let him down - so what? That's happened before. He's had injuries that were just as bad as this. He can still walk and - so far - he's still free, so he's doing okay, all things considered.
No one's entitled to a life free from misery. The world is filled with all sorts of horrible shit, and its only luck that keeps you out harm's way. A broken heart - and that's all it should be, really (not something soul-destroying, because that's giving Amon too much credit) - isn't that bad.
But is it enough to keep him going: the thought that, hey, it could be worse? And he's got a pretty clear idea of what 'worse' would entail, and it doesn't exactly make him feel better about things.
And now he's like an idiot teenager again, asking questions that can't be answered. He imagines how dumb he must look: some stringy old guy clutching an unwashed shirt and sulking.
Eight years, though. He'd been with Amon for eight years.
(He's going to castrate that bastard.)
He's fairly sure that he's incapable of being any more pathetic than he is right now, although the day is young.
He puts the folded shirt back in the box.
Then he stands up, wipes his face on his sleeve, puts the box back in the bike pannier, and begins to climb the stairs to the upper deck.
He hopes more than anything that Amon is still alive.
Once he's got the materiel inventory from Gansukh, Wei reads over it in the quiet of the loading bay. He's already starting to think of the place as his turf, while the ship's bridge belongs to the Khagan's crew. It helps that the loading bay is relatively roomy. He needs space.
He reads Gansukh's impeccable handwriting, and takes notes. He calculates how long their fuel reserves will hold out if all the surviving airships travel so many miles per day. Then he calculates how long their food rations will last. He gives it about two weeks.
(They're going to need help. Problem is, the only person who's likely to help them by this point is the shipping magnate, and Wei would rather eat his own fist than talk to the shipping magnate.)
They have three airships left, and eight planes. The airships aren't carrying much kit because their main priority was the bombing run. Fuck knows where most of the other vehicles have ended up. A few teams have sent word that they're okay despite still being stuck in the United Republic, but it looks like most of the chi blockers are either 1) captured or 2) (hopefully) sensible enough to ditch their equipment and go incommunicado.
There are extra supplies and vehicles stashed in various places, although it's only a matter of time before someone reveals their locations to the police. If the authorities have Sato, then Wei has to assume they know everything he does. People usually crack sooner than you'd think.
Wei sits on the floor of the Khagan's loading bay, and wonders how long Amon would last, if the United Forces got to him.
He wonders how long he'd last, if if the United Forces got to him.
Actually, fuck it, no, the prospect of getting caught isn't even up for consideration. Getting caught is not an option. It is not a feasible eventuality. It is not an acceptable outcome. Getting caught is not something that will happen to Wei during his lifetime.
There's no point thinking about it.
Instead, maybe he'd be better off worrying about the threat posed by his fellow Equalists. The moment he opens his mouth and starts claiming that Amon is a bloodbender, a lot of them are going to go lose their shit. He wouldn't blame them for it, either.
Should he ditch everybody as soon as they reach the mainland? That'd be the cowardly option. But if he stays, what does he have to offer? All he'll do is create controversy.
Controversy seems inevitable, though.
If he's honest, he can admit that the organisation is probably screwed, and he hasn't got the brains or resources to salvage anything from this whole mess. Despite what people say about him, he does know how to pick his battles. There's no point in trying to hold the Equalists together. That'd be a fool's errand. And already has another fool's errand that he'd rather pursue instead: he wants to find Amon.
In the meantime, he still needs to figure out how much he should tell the others.
He tries to compile a mental list of people he knows he can trust. It's a short list. All the people he considers 'loyal' are the same people who'd react badly if he told them Amon was a bloodbender. There are a handful of individuals who wouldn't be angry if he told them the truth; they'd just think he was confused. Though, hell, maybe he's underestimating them. Maybe some of them would believe him if he made a good case. But he doesn't know. It's a risk. And if they call him a liar, he'll has to live with that. He'll have to look them in the eye and be honest with them, then stand there and take it when they accuse him of being a traitor.
What if he is wrong about Amon, anyway? What if the guy who attacked him wasn't Amon at all?
...Nah. It'd take a lot of rationalization for him to believe that the guy wasn't Amon. It's not like he hasn't had suspicions about Amon before. Which is further proof that he's an idiot: he had doubts, but he didn't do anything about them. Maybe he brought all of this on himself.
Dwelling on this shit isn't helping. He's already too quiet, too passive. He's meant to be in control of things. The organisation has suffered under enough bad leadership already. People will be looking to him for solutions.
He wants to get very, very drunk.
"Boss?" Lan asks, out of nowhere.
Wei flinches, caught off-guard. He didn't hear Lan approach; she must've removed her jewellery. (Why? What's she up to? Why does she need to sneak around?) Lan is now standing a few paces away, chewing the end of her braid again.
"Yeah?" Wei says.
Lan looks over her shoulder, then crouches in front of him so they're almost eye to eye. "This is going to sound paranoid, but..."
Nothing would sound paranoid to Wei any more. "What?"
"I don't like Gansukh," Lan says. Her crew keeps watching me, like they think I don't notice."
"Oh." Yeah, that figures. Gansukh would have to go through Lan if she wanted to get to Wei, and the risk of a mutiny seems pretty high right now. If Wei claims that Amon is a bloodbender, people can use it as an excuse to kick his ass. However, if Wei doesn't admit that Amon is a bloodbender, then they might just as well kick his ass anyway.
It all depends on how smart people will want to be about things, though. If people are sensible, then they won't try anything just yet. It's going to look suspicious as hell if something happens to him while he's aboard Gansukh's ship. Gansukh doesn't have anything to gain by attacking him at this point; she can afford to be patient.
"I'll go talk to her," Wei tells Lan, and stands up, very carefully. (Why did he ever think it was a good idea to sit down? He feels like his entire spine got slammed in a door.) Lan offers him a shoulder to lean on, and he has to take a moment to compose himself.
He catches Lan looking at him, and her face is pale and sad.
And, well, shit. If he's going to be telling the truth to anyone, then Lan should be the first to know. (He's meant to trust her, isn't he?)
"Hey," he says, "You know earlier, when I said I couldn't remember what happened?"
"Yeah?" Lan replies, cautiously.
"I lied."
"Ah."
"I got attacked," Wei says.
Lan waits for him to elaborate, eyebrows raised.
Wei can't do it. He can't tell the truth.
It's like someone's jammed a wrench into one of the cogs inside his skull. He can almost hear grinding noises.
"Hey, Lan," he says, quieter now.
"Yes?"
"Slap me."
Lan eyes him.
"Just... Just slap me, alright?" Wei says. You know when you have a machine that's not working properly, and you hit it? Maybe that works on people.
Lan takes a small step backwards, raises her left hand, looks at her left hand, looks back at Wei, then gives him the saddest little slap he's ever received. It's like being swatted by a kitten.
"That was pathetic," Wei says.
"Sorry."
"Try again."
Lan tries. This time, it actually stings a little.
"Oh come on, Lan," Wei laments. "Do it properly. Don't try to hit me; try to hit through me, like you're trying to slap something that's over my shoulder and my head just happens to be in the way."
Lan now squares her shoulders. "No. You have a concussion and you're being weird."
"Dammit, Lan."
"So who attacked you?" Lan asks.
"What?"
"A moment ago, you said someone attacked you."
"Yeah, I..." The more he talks, the more absurd he sounds. "Look, how much have you heard already? What're the rumors going around?"
"I don't know. I've been listening to Gansukh's crew. They say Amon went missing after the Avatar turned up at the rally, and that we lost contact with Hiroshi Sato at around the same time."
"Did they mention what the Avatar said at the rally?"
"Something about Amon being a bloodbender."
"Well," Wei says. "I got bloodbent."
Lan stares at him, long enough for Wei to count three breaths. Then she looks over his shoulder, chews her upper lip, and shifts her weight from one foot to the other.
"Okay," she replies, in one drawn-out breath. Okaaaay.
"Look, don't..." Wei begins, about to say 'don't look at me like I'm a whackjob'. In all fairness, he probably IS a whackjob, but that doesn't mean he's a liar. "...I really did get bloodbent."
Lan keeps staring.
"I know what I'm saying," Wei tells her. "And I know what it sounds like."
Now Lan looks thoughtful. "Did you get a good look at your attacker?"
"Lan. Listen. If I had any doubts about this, I wouldn't be talking about it. Why would I be saying this stuff if I didn't think it was the truth?"
Lan holds up both her hands like she wants to ward him off. "Okay, okay. But, with all due respect, that's the thing: you think you're telling the truth. I mean, what did you see, exactly?"
"Right. There's the rally. We're on stage. The Avatar turns up, right? The Avatar and the, I dunno, her boyfriend, y'know, that kid with a head that's shaped like a zongzi. They attack, the airbenders get loose, Amon goes after the Avatar, I go after Amon," Wei says. "Anyway, I'm a few steps behind, a few paces away from the storage room, and everything goes quiet. I stop running. I get all paranoid that maybe the Avatar is being used as bait, and that maybe I'm walking into an ambush. I walk right up to the storage room, and there's the Avatar getting bloodbent."
Lan's expression remains blank.
Wei adds, without pausing for breath, "I'd recognize Amon anywhere, right? I know we're talking about a guy in a mask, but if I thought I saw an impostor or something, I'd say so. Saying that I saw an impostor and not Amon would make things easier for me. And look at all the shit that's just weird. Look at all the coincidences. Like when we went to apprehend Councilman Tarrlok, and we all got bloodbent except for Amon. And then Amon goes and keeps the Councilman separate from the other prisoners, and no one was allowed to have any contact with him because he was 'a special case due to his involvement with the Task Force' or whatever; whenever I tried to talk to him about it, he just shot me down or changed the subject. Amon was always good at changing subjects, but anyway... Then the Avatar turns up and claims that Amon and Tarrlok are related, and... Fuck it, I don't know, but if it walks like a bloodbender, swims like a bloodbender, and quacks like a bloodbender, I'm gonna assume it's a bloodbender."
Lan takes a moment to process that last sentence. Probably imagining a quacking bloodbender.
"So you're saying Amon attacked you?" she asks, slowly.
Wei wants to kick something, but pauses to consider the question. "Actually, I tried to attack him. I must've got about three steps before he just picked me up and threw me, I guess."
Lan doesn't immediately reply, but sits down on the floor, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on her hands.
Eventually, she says, "This is... I don't know. If anyone else was saying this stuff except you, we'd have to... uh, do something about them."
Wei laughs uneasily. "Yeah. I know."
"Like, if I thought Amon bloodbent me, and I came to you and claimed that Amon was a bloodbender, then... It'd be a much shorter conversation, wouldn't it?" Lan gives him a hard look.
Wei grimaces. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else I can tell you. You want to call me a traitor or a hypocrite, go right ahead."
Maybe the organisation should deal with Wei as they'd deal with any other dissenter. Maybe that would only be fair. Maybe he deserves a mutiny.
"I can't believe he'd attack you, though," Lan murmurs, glancing away.
"I can," says Wei - and as he hears himself speak, he gets a nasty little insight into just how bitter he is. It occurs to him that he's pretty much a dried-out cat turd of a human being and there's nothing in him except hatred, and then dismisses that thought, because it's not real helpful right now.
Lan shakes her head. "You're really sure it wasn't the Avatar who-"
"Yeah. Like I said, I saw her getting bloodbent. I don't think she could fake something like that. You know that, uh, that poison you make from trees?"
"I, um - which one? Most of my poisons are made from trees."
"The people that makes people contort into weird shapes and start shaking. That one. Y'know, the one you used on those triple threat goons last year, and then you said you'd never gonna use it again because it gave you nightmares. That's what bloodbending looks like. That's what the Avatar looked like. Normal human beings don't move that way. Spines aren't meant to bend like that. Look, I remember this shit vividly. I'm not just confused 'cos I hit my head."
Lan lets out a huge sigh. Wei wishes she'd stand up, because she looks especially small and mousy and pathetic while sitting down. Wei feels like he's a parent who's just had to tell his daughter that, sorry, mommy and daddy don't love each other any more because mommy ran away with the door-to-door brush salesman. Great, he thinks, there's no way she'll grow up to be a well-adjusted young woman now, and he has to suppress a nauseous chortle because Lan is all of twenty-six years old.
"So what now?" Lan murmurs.
"Now I got to go talk to Gansukh," Wei says.
Lan stands up, and smooths down her skirt. Her eyes look a little vacant. "Okay. Right."
"Can you keep your shit together, Lan?"
Lan looks up at him, and nods once.
"Good." Wei says.
Lan seems to focus slightly. "You're not... I mean, you're going to tell Gansukh that Amon's a bloodbender, aren't you?"
"I'm gonna have to say something about Amon, and it's always easiest to tell the truth. Why?"
"I don't... I don't know."
"You still think I could be wrong?"
Lan's expression goes vacant again.
Wei smiles a little. "I'm kinda asking you to choose between me and Amon here, aren't I?"
"I wasn't at the rally," Lan says. "I didn't see what happened."
"Yeah, I know. I'm not mad at you. I'd probably say the same if I was in your situation," Wei says. "I still need to tell Gansukh what I saw, though."
"What if she uses it against us?" Lan asks.
"I doubt I'll be telling her anything that she doesn't suspect already."
"Yeah, but if you tell her Amon's a bloodbender, then that's an actual admission of..." Lan pauses, and seems to lose her train of thought. "Of something."
Wei shrugs. "Hey, Lan?"
"Yeah?"
"If things turn ugly and I get scapegoated for all the bullshit that's gone down over the past few days, then I want you to focus on your own survival. Side against me, if that's what it takes." Wei isn't sure if he's saying this because he means it, or if he's just gauging her reaction.
Lan scowls, which is an improvement over the glassy-eyed look she had a moment ago. "Seriously? That's horrible. You think I'd do that?"
"I don't know. But I wouldn't blame you if you did."
Lan is speechless for a moment. She looks like she's about to slap him (properly, this time). Then she angrily sticks a hand down the neck of her dress, digs out a rectangular object, and shoves it at Wei. "Here! Take this."
Well, that's uh... What is she offering, exactly?
Wei stares at the... whatever it is. It looks like a cigarette lighter - one of the fancier wind-proof ones with the maker's name embossed on one side - but... Wait. Wei's seen similar devices before. It's not a real lighter, it's just a flashbang grenade that's disguised as one. You arm the things by spinning the flint wheel. "What the fuck, Lan," Wei says. "Why are you still keeping explosives in your under-things? We had a conversation about this already. I told you. One of these days you're gonna blow a titty off."
"I just figured you might need a grenade," Lan says, "Just in case."
Wei takes the grenade from her, partly for her own safety. "I'm not gonna throw grenades at my own people."
"Hold out your hands," Lan snaps.
Wei sighs, and does so.
Lan reaches into her left sleeve. She takes out: a pocket watch, a tube of lipstick, a pack of cigarettes and a cigarette holder, and some candy wrapped in colorful foil. She dumps the items on Wei's palms.
"I'm guessing I shouldn't eat the candy," Wei mutters.
"The green ones are okay. The red ones aren't."
"Why not?"
"Because they're aniseed flavor. Also they contain a heavy sedative."
"What about the green ones?"
"They're lime. They're alright."
Wei just pockets the candy. "And the rest of it?"
"The cigarette holder is a dart gun; there's a dart inside that's tipped with a muscle relaxant. Don't smoke the cigarettes; they trigger psychosis. Um, except for the cigarette in the back, the one that's a different way around to all the others. That one explodes. The lipstick has a hidden compartment with a powdered sedative in it. The watch... also explodes. But only if you turn the dial to midday."
"The watch explodes?"
"Yeah."
"The watch doesn't release a toxic gas or fire needles at people's eyes or anything like that?"
"No. It just explodes."
"Just checking." One has to be sure of these things. "Do you have any other explosives on your person?"
"Only a few."
Wei looks up at the ceiling of the loading bay as if he'll find the courage to be strong up there. "You know, Lan, don't you ever worry about what'd happen if you... tripped and fell downstairs or something?"
Lan's scowl is replaced by a thoughtful expression. "That hasn't happened yet."
Wei sticks the items in the pockets of his pants. Maybe this is a bad idea, but then again, it's hardly the first time he's had dangerous things way too close to his crotch.
He squints at Lan for a long moment, then trudges up the steps to the bridge.