The Refugee Sentinel (23 page)

For the second time Li-Mei had let stupidity get the best of her. She turned to Natt, still sound asleep, then to Colton. In the lamp’s forty-watt glow, an empty chair stood where Colton had lain before the nurse’s grand entrance. The front door swung on its hinges, revealing the street with a yawn. Li-Mei sprinted outside and up and down the street – nothing but the blinking hazards of the prowler. She went back inside and closed the door. She locked it too, just in case, then walked to the center of the warehouse, closed her eyes and attempted to meditate. Useless... Instead, her rage flowed at the two unmoving bodies. And of course, most of all, it flowed at herself.

On the floor, Sylvya twitched. Her battered body oozed blood and her broken wrist had bloated like unnatural origami. Li-Mei looked at the nurse, this creature who had foiled the mission, when everything else was wrapped. With black spots dancing in front of her eyes, Li-Mei hit the woman’s face with a fist. The woman’s nose caved like a ripe fruit and her lips muttered a sequence of tangled sounds. Why bother, Li-Mei thought, the nurse couldn’t feel the payback.

She headed for the cop next, his half-open mouth snoring at uneven intervals. Li-Mei unholstered his gun, unbelted his uniform and pulled his pants down to his ankles, like a hammock connecting two hairy tree trunks. The Seattle PD Chief slept on, with the type of naked erection only the deepest slumber could sculpt.

Li-Mei dragged the nurse’s unconscious body to an open water pipe on the wall and let the cold water run over Sylvya’s head. At first, Sylvya didn’t register that she was drowning then a glimmer lit up inside her retinas followed by full-on sloshing underneath the rushing water. Li-Mei returned the coughing woman to the policeman and pressed the cop’s gun against the nurse’s forehead.

“Suck on him,” Li-Mei said.

A string of coughs bracketed Sylvya’s reply, “No.”

Li-Mei fired the gun at the ceiling, the warehouse groaning with a reverberating echo, then pressed the smoking muzzle against the nurse’s forehead, burning the skin with a perfect twenty-two-millimeter circle.

“I will not ask again. Suck on him.”

Sylvya wiped her broken nose with her broken wrist. “I hope you die,” she said.

“Death comes to us all, darling… starting with you unless you put him in your mouth.”

In her good hand, Sylvya continued holding the cop. He was harder than before.

Li-Mei moved the gun to the nurse’s temple. “Now bite it off,” she said.

Sylvya shook her head no.

“You see how easy I pull the trigger. Don’t make me do it again.”

With eyes of a caged animal, Sylvya withdrew her lips and grinded her teeth. The cop’s unconscious eyes flew wide open, driven by agony that the human brain was not wired to withstand. Blood filled Sylvya’s mouth. “You are an animal,” she sobbed at Li-Mei.

“And you are welcome,” said the Asian. She caressed Sylvya’s temple with the gun’s muzzle and pulled the trigger. The nurse’s last thought in life was about Colton – how wonderful it would have been if he had met Sadie and Dallas and how much he would have loved them.

Li-Mei wiped the gun clean and tucked it in Natt’s hand then collected the syringe and needle from where the nurse had attacked, careful not to leave her fingerprints, next to Sylvya’s. She ruffled Natt’s hair, glistening with a sleeping person’s sweat and plunged the needle in the back of his skull. For a moment, she held the syringe still, then spun it for two rotations. A biology class memory from when she was six, washed over her, when she had lobotomized a dozen of unsuspecting frogs. Pithing was the correct scientific term, she recalled, and it worked as well on cops as it had on frogs. The syringe stuck out of Natt’s head like a plastic mullet. He rolled his eyes and died in his sleep. Defiance Day was two days away.

Defiance Day Eve descended upon Seattle with clemency, reducing the wait to one final morning. Colton had turned himself in but this time it was different. He wasn’t seeking shelter or bailing out. Defiance Day was tomorrow and he was reporting for his lawful obligation.

He had run from the warehouse and Li-Mei, without looking back, until reaching the first police precinct on the way. He had completed the digital check-in form, filling out “Sacrifice” in the “Vote Designation” box and thinking he had to be the only Sacrifice vote in Seattle coming from a deserter. He sat on the bunk of his detention cell and asked for a visit from his Vote Recipient: a legal right of a Sacrifice voter on Defiance Day Eve.

Yana arrived before ten-pm, accompanied by four ULE embassy guards who waited outside the cell. When the door closed, she gave him a hug and sat next to him on the bunk.

“Mom told me about it,” she said and pressed Colton’s fingers against her cheek. He held his breath, as if afraid not to break any part of what was taking place. She looked at his motley eyes and smiled. “Your eyes are the same color as mine,” she said, “or is it the other way around?”

“I see your old man amuses you.”

“You’re not that old.”

“Thank you for the second chance, patte,” he said, lost in the geography of her face and reverse-engineering her features, from the toddler he remembered, to the girl sitting next to him.

She nodded in the blue-ink silence. “You afraid?” she said.

“A little… How about you, Ms. Would-Be-Teenager? You all right? When I get up there, with the other guys who sacrificed,” his eyes shot upward, “don’t embarrass me by getting pregnant until you’re at least sixteen, OK?”

Yana punched his shoulder. “You’re gross. No wonder Mom dumped you.” She rested a hand on top of his and it made him feel like she was protecting him somehow. “When you head out tomorrow and when you sit in their… chair, their pump or whatever it is, will break and they’ll have to postpone until a different time. I know it… and by then… people may have grown tired of killing.”

“You’ll be fine without me, patte,” he said. “The world will get better by trading someone like me for someone like you.”

“I don’t want you gone… and I don’t want today to end.”

Colton cupped Yana’s cheeks and straightened her eyebrow. Then, in the darkness of the cell, he wiped her tears. “You should know,” he said, “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. In the whole world. All the days I have left in my life I would have traded for your forgiveness.”

Yana’s head shook. “My forgiveness is yours… there’s no need to trade for it.”

“You’re like this beautiful sketch that will turn into a painting, one day. I won’t be around when that masterpiece is done, but looking at you now, I see a scientist or an inventor – just like your Mom. And if they vote in the future for who’s the best in whatever field you decided to pursue, you could count on my vote. It would never be that close. But my vote will always be yours.” He squeezed her hand to feel her touch for as long as possible after letting go.

“Fight for your hope,” he said, “like you’re fighting now, because if something bad happens… too bad to fix, hope does live on. You think it dies, but it doesn’t. It turns dark, with nothing to lose, if you would only fight for it.” His face glowed with the light of what he believed worthy to live for, like love and courage and hope. He patted his chest. “Look at me. All these years, my one hope was to see you. Not in a hundred lifetimes did I dream you would give me a second chance. But you did. And now… I’m a king.”

The sun was setting in the West. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “No matter how low you feel,” he caressed her hair, “and today is damn low. No matter how alone or how unbeatable the desperation, remember that hope wins out in the end. And that I will always watch over you.”

“Me too, Dad... In my dreams, I’ll come to you and tell you about my day. I’ll tell you about my friends and any boys I dated and I’ll take care of Mom for you.”

“Has she told you that your eyes change color?” he said. “Sometimes they're blue, sometimes they're green. Depending on how the light hits them. I'll try to be good enough to see you again, patte.”

“You will, because I’ll come find you in my next life. Even if I am a ladybug and you are a bear, I’ll land on your back to spend time, even if we don’t know each other or don’t talk at all. And I promise I won’t embarrass you in heaven, with the other Sacrificers and I won’t get pregnant before sixteen.” She closed her eyes and when they opened, Colton saw her promise to remain good, because that’s how he would have raised her to be. “Whenever I meet someone else’s father, I’ll think of you and I’ll be mad at God for it. And, one day, when I walk down the aisle at my wedding, you’ll walk with me too. I will arch my arm in the air, as if it holds yours, because I will be holding you. On that day more than any other.”

As she spoke, Colton nodded, his head keeping rhythm with an inaudible slow beat. He spread the fingers of his good hand at her, in a goodbye wave then pulled them together in a fist.

Then the ULE embassy guards took her away from his cell and he was left alone.

A developing mist helped the late December day swallow Seattle’s tortured downtown. The city was disappearing for good, like a twenty-first century version of Machu Picchu. Fifteen million citizens had been terminated and any High-Potentials were relocating to Vancouver, BC – the designated US Territory hub in the northwest.

Mitko felt Yana’s gaze on his face, hugged her and, for the first time in years, wished he could see. He imagined she had the eyes of a blue morning.

“Can we go to Kerry Park, please?” she said.

“You should ask your Mom, first.”

“She said I could, if you took me.”

“Let’s go then.”

“I wish Dad could come, too.”

“He would have loved it,” he said.

“Does it hurt to die by suffocation?”

“Not for him. They sedated him first. Then he died in his sleep.”

“I wish we had spent more time together.”

“As long as you remember him, he’ll always be with you.”

“What was he like?”

Side by side they strolled past the gates of the ULE embassy. Mitko walked in silence, thinking of an answer and Yana took his hand. They reached Kerry Park after a few minutes, more a city viewpoint than an actual park with trees. Mitko sat on a bench, placed Yana on his knee and patted her shoulder with a hand. She pressed close to him.

“He was a fearless man who made everyone around him braver.” Mitko hadn’t known Colton well but wanted Yana to remember her father the way daughters should remember fathers. When love was concerned a white lie was as good as the truth. “Like Crazy Horse, on a Brave Run in front of General Custer’s men. Your Dad was the same. He protected you and your Mom. Most of all, he protected you. He was your guardian, a refugee sentinel, he called it, who looked over you, no matter the odds.”

“He never told me that.”

“He gave his life for you in a flash.” Mitko snapped his fingers. “Most Sacrificers have second thoughts, you know. But when it came to you, he decided in less than a second. That’s how much he loved you.”

Yana’s voice shook. “He told me I had made him the happiest man in the world.”

“You were his heart and when he talked about you…” Mitko whistled, “his face streamed love. Even a blind man could see that. He made you the heroine of all his stories and now I see he didn’t exaggerate… other than the unicorns, that is.” His laughter sounded like a tender Chopin sonata.

“The unicorns?” Her question teetered between curiosity and sadness.

They left the bench and headed down a gravel path that turned into a paved alley. “I’m not sure I should tell you,” he said.

She stomped a foot on the asphalt. “You have to.”

“Oh, well. He told me your spit was as powerful as unicorn tears.”

“That’s gross… and incorrect. My spit doesn’t heal cuts.”

“How do you know? I can nick my thumb to give it a try.”

Yana stopped and looked up at Mitko. “I like spending time with you,” she said and hugged him.

He hugged her back, stooping his shoulders and locking his hands around her to make the embrace warmer. He didn’t know how else to give her comfort.

It felt to Sarah like it had started to snow inside the Starbucks on the Fourth Avenue bridge, as the supple woman approached her.

“The world’s algae whisperer,” the woman said without looking at anyone else in the café, “or should I call you the Mona Lisa of renewable energy?”

“Do I know you?” Sarah’s hand dipped inside her purse, fingers resting on a pepper spray.

“Put your hands where I can see them, Dr. Perkins, or I won’t be held responsible for the consequences.” The woman was slender, with a figure like a human steel rod.

Sarah’s hand abandoned the purse and rejoined the top of the table.

“Thank you, Doctor. You might have heard of me as Agent Taxi.”

“So you are the one... The one who Colton defeated.” Sarah's words swam in sorrow.

Li-Mei smiled. Her gaze drank in the scientist with measured sips. “A visionary general is not she who wins one thousand battles, but she who wins the battle without the world knowing there was a battle fought.”

“Don’t patronize me, agent. I did as your superiors asked.”

“So did I, Sarah. And we both chose well.”

“I didn’t, because he beat you.”

“You have your kid and we have your algae formulas. How did he,” Li-Mei raised air-quote fingers, “beat me? And don’t tell me it’s about him winning Yana’s love, because you see, I don’t believe in moral victories.” The setting sun bathed the coffee shop’s cedar floor with a yellow glow.

“I should have had more faith in Colton…” Sarah covered her eyes. “I should have known he would survive you. It’s just that… when that voice called, the day after Yana was earmarked, offering me to turn over my algae work in exchange for sparing her life… I would have given anything.“ She looked at Li-Mei. “Was it you who called me?”

“That’s not important, Sarah. No one could blame a mother for doing what she must to save her daughter’s life.”

“I blame myself,” Sarah said, “because he did outlast you and died on his own terms… not yours.”

“Do you really think a one-handed, broken man could have defied the China Territory?”

“He did survive you, didn’t he?”

“You believe I kept him alive for more than thirty days because I couldn’t kill him? I expect more from your Hi-Po IQ, Dr. Perkins.”

“Why didn’t you kill him then?”

“You had agreed to our terms. If you had backed out of our deal, we would have destroyed your reputation and the credibility of Project Atlas. Meaning, if we couldn’t possess your algae algorithms neither would the Americans.” Li-Mei smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, it would have been glorious to assassinate Parker. But after your consent, murdering him became optional.”

Sarah moved to the edge of her chair. “And had you killed him?  How would my Yana have lived?”

“A Chinese citizen would have sacrificed for your daughter a moment before the voting deadline. We’re honorable people, Doctor. A deal is a deal.”

“A deal is a deal,” Sarah said. “It makes me sick. Why do a deal at all?  Why did the Chinese send you here to assassinate our people?”

“I’m not the only one who was sent. Hundreds like me canvassed the world to remove the loved ones of all non-Chinese High-Potentials.” Li-Mei looked around the café then squinted at the setting sun. “While the ULE thought it ruled the world under the façade of global unity, the China Territory pooled its resources: money, patents and real estate to bribe certain ULE senators and get the High-Potentials list.”

“No senator has full access to the list. It’s the most confidential piece of information there is.”

“We did what we had to, Doctor. We gave as much as required to whomever we had to, to get everything. Try saying “no” to becoming the new owner of the GDP of China in exchange for a list that wasn’t even yours.”

“So a handful of senators now control China’s wealth and real estate?”

“Correct, but we controlled the world’s brightest and most promising minds. And we set out to eliminate the loved ones of those High-Potentials who weren’t Chinese.” Li-Mei stretched in her chair. “The ULE is a chimera, you see. Our world is devoid of resources and bound to break apart again. And the country who controls the world’s brainpower will own all other resources in the end.”

Sarah stared at Li-Mei without seeing her. “You couldn’t assassinate the heavily guarded High-Potentials, so you went after their loves. Or blackmailed the Hi-Pos to turn over their research instead.”

“Now you understand. Breakthrough research is impossible if your daughter or a husband or a mother is about to be executed. Of course, we tried to avoid shedding blood where we could.”

“Like with me and Yana...”

“Like with you and Yana,” Li-Mei nodded, “we gave the High-Potentials with access to technology we couldn’t discover ourselves the chance to turn it over in exchange for saving their loved ones.”

“What if the world had found out about your monstrous plan?”

Li-Mei smiled. “The risk was high and we had to stage all deaths as accidents. Like I quoted Sun Tzu earlier – we had to keep the battle secret, otherwise winning it would have been impossible. But it was worth it – Mission Dizang has delivered technology and innovation to China that will cement our global dominance over the next several generations.”

“And what if I go public with this news tomorrow?”

“I will pretend I didn’t hear you ask me such a stupid question, Doctor. Please, don’t make me think any less of you than I already do.”

Sarah’s face had aged years since the conversation started. “You’ll find the complete Project Atlas blueprints here.” She dug a data stick out of her purse and threw it at Li-Mei.

The Chinese snatched the flying object mid-air and shook her head. “You were supposed to send the data via an encrypted transmission.”

Sarah spoke like she had not heard her. “In a month, I’ll resign and recommend Atlas for termination. And the US Territory will end up with garbage. Tell your superiors the blueprints on this data stick work just fine.”

“You’ll always have a home in the East, Doctor. Imagine heading a renewables program, several times larger than anything you’ve seen in the West. Imagine Yana, safe and healthy by your side… Forever.”

Sarah started to respond, then changed her mind. She stood up and headed for the door and a future with Yana – with no High-Potentials and no Defiance Days… like Colton would have wanted her to do. She turned. “You know what? Screw moral victories – he did beat you and we both know it. The broken man, as you called him, pushed your damn Chinese empire into the sea.”

Li-Mei smiled again, small white teeth dueling with the outside dusk, and waved a polite goodbye. In the café, the yellow sunlight had morphed into burnt orange. A cricket was dying somewhere with a song, his closing gift to the December night and to the world.