Meliora - Extricate - 47

[lady_mab]

Jun Zhou

My hands shake as I grip my phone. The train rattles and bumps as we get further out from the city center, towards the edge of the Eastern Quarter. Lionel sits beside me, motionless, staring at his knees.

I cornered him after our last class for the day, and I told him that I was tired of waiting. “I want to go today,” I say, the desire to get this over with nearly overwhelming me.

My uncle has provided enough information to hopefully get an audience with the man. I need Lionel to put me into contact with him, because it will be easier to have someone that this scientist knows to start the conversation.

I just need to be the one to finish it.

The station we disembark at sits at the end of the line. It is decrepit and crumbling, a far cry from the polished and brushed steel of the city proper. This area is outside of ALICE’s influence.

Lionel coughs, fidgets awkwardly in his spot and then pulls out his phone. He has a look on his face that means he's trying not to regret agreeing to help.

There's a pause, and I watch him shuffle as he waits for the call to pick up. Then, "The fact that you recognized my number means that's not true. I have a favor." I can't hear what happens on the other end of the line, but his expression is enough of an indication. "No, but--" A beat, then Lionel is staring at the screen of his phone in shock.

His frown comes immediately after and his fingers clench around the piece of equipment. "I told you this was a waste of time," he tells me.

No, it's a good start. I didn't expect it to work, from what he has told me about this man. I keep walking in the direction we had been going, the way that Lionel had indicated was the lab. "What is his number? I want to speak to him."

He rattles it off to me, uncertain, but doesn't question me.

"Keep leading the way." I need him to stay in front of me, so I can focus on the task at hand. This is my first time doing this, and I don't know how well it's going to go over.

Uncle Bao said that confidence is the biggest key. Pretending like I know what I'm doing is just as successful as actually knowing.

I have to try a few times before the call actually connects. I don't give him enough time to respond, because that will give me a chance to doubt myself. "Is this Zakariah Jenkins?"

"Who--" he starts, but I push on.

"My name is Xiaolongnu. I am calling on behalf of Lao Wantong." The words taste like iron in my mouth, and I lick my lips. I feel cold all over.

I bump into a solid figure, only to find that Lionel has stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. He glances at me over his shoulder, but I reach out and poke the small of his back. Keep going, I try to tell him with my glare.

He obeys.

On the other end of the line, Zakariah has stopped sputtering long enough to ask, "And what do you have to pass on from the old man this time?"

My lips twitch into a frown. Uncle Bao has told me that he has had a few dealings with this man, who would ask for something he could not have from people who owed him nothing. He just knew that Uncle Bao was a man to go to if you wanted something. "I am offering you the pass you keep trying to receive. The case will be dropped if you help me in turn."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lionel try to peer around. I don't want him to see me like this, acting like someone that I don't know I can be. I press the tips of my fingers against his cheek and keep him looking forward.

"Oh? Suddenly feeling a little charitable, Lao Wantong? What makes you so sure that you can help? I would have thought that it was outside your scope, the way you kept putting me off." He tries to laugh, but it comes out strained and uneasy.

We're both uncertain of how this will play off, but I know that we both want this bad enough that it would work. It has to. "The reach of Lao Wantong goes beyond just Eminence. He will be able to ensure the case is dropped and forgotten. You could even resume contact, I would imagine." I don't know all the details of the case, except that it has something to do with a former lover. I don't know how much Zakariah had told Uncle Bao, or if Uncle Bao was unwilling to inform me of the details.

There's a pause on the line before, softly, Zakariah asks. "Will I be able to see him?"

It’s obvious with that one phrase, the heaviness in his tone, how much this person he has been cut off from means to him. "That I cannot promise. But if this all goes well, perhaps we would be able to extend that courtesy to you."

I do not doubt that, if this all goes well, if Lionel and I can crack the case behind this drug and ALICE, more people will be able to leave Eminence.

"Alright." Zakariah's voice is suddenly sharp and clear. Determination rings bright in his tone. "What do you want in exchange?"

Lionel stops walking and waves a hand in front of him to indicate the lab in all its Old World glory. Brick and crumbling stone, the smell of the river hanging heavy in the street.

I take a breath, letting that stale air fill my mouth. "As for what we want, Mister Jenkins, we are outside. Come say hello, and I will describe it for you." I hang up the phone and slip it into the pocket of my jacket as quickly as I can. As if afraid it will burn me.

Lionel's voice is faint, awed. Afraid. "What... the hell was that all about?"

I glance at him, jaw clenched as I run over the name my uncle gave me in my head. Xiaolongnu. The Little Dragon Maiden, who trained under the Old Imp in a series of wuxia novels. A little too Old World and more than a little too on the nose for my tastes. "There are very few things that I keep a secret from everyone, but this is one of them. I hope you understand." I told Zoné and Glen enough of what my uncle is capable of. Saying that he is a crime boss is not wrong, but he's so much more than that.

He is Lao Wantong, the mischievous Old Imp. Respected and feared and able to reach where no one else can.

"You just blackmailed the dude."

"No, the Old Imp did." I don't want to continue this conversation, and I know that Lionel will respect my wish to keep this between us. I just hope that his curiosity doesn't carry too much further.

The door to the lab opens and a middle-aged man with a rumpled lab coat and wiry black hair blinks out over our heads. His frown comes into focus when he notices Lionel, then it switches to me and it quickly becomes a look of shock. "You are the one that Lao Wantong sends to do his dirty work?"

I don't know what he expected. My voice gives away a pretty good mental image of who I am: A short teenager who has an innocent face. But I suppose that works well enough as a disguise. "Of course not," I finally say. I stride up the stairs and duck in under his arm. "I am Xiaolongnu. I do my own dirty work, should it be required."

Uncle Bao gave me the information, gave me the nickname, and then left me to my own devices. I am the one who had to decide what to do with this, the one to approach Zakariah Jenkins about his request. Should it come down to it, I might also be the one who has to facilitate the open communication channel. If I'm still here.

If I still remember.

The man sighs from the doorway and closes it behind us. "Alright. Fine. How do you need my help?"

I shrug off my backpack and, with trembling fingers, pull out the small container from my backpack. It's no bigger than the length of my hand from tip of my middle finger to the base of my palm. It's clear, and there are small things floating in an opaque fluid. I try not to think about what it is, because every time I do, I feel sick.

Lionel's face pales and I watch him collapse in on himself, all but physically retreating as he sees the vial.

He's the one that asked for it, but I am the one who has to carry the burden of it.

"You know of the game that we are participating in, is that correct?" I ask.

Zakariah glances to Lionel first, as if he is the one who will answer the question. But it doesn't take long before his bright gaze slips back to me and his posture straightens. "I know the barest bones of it, yes. It is nigh on impossible to find any information or anyone willing to speak of it." He says it with the tone of a man who has tried and has failed.

If what Lionel says is correct, that what he told the Lady and the Ghost blog is the truth, then there is reason to believe that we are having a hard time forming long-term memories.

It is what happened with the other boys when Glen stopped coming to school. We didn't talk about what happened. There was merely an empty chair and a heavy sense of loss.

Zakariah leans against the door to his lab with feigned disinterest, but I can see his gaze jumping between me and Lionel as my companion starts to roam about the room.

I hold out the vial towards him. "One of our friends was an Informant, the one required to gather information from ALICE and deliver it to his team. Through a series of events, he caught a bad cold, and it settled into his lungs for over three months."

The man pushes himself away and approaches me. He's tall, willowy beneath the too-big lab coat. His slender fingers reach for the vial and I let him take it, because I don't want to touch it any more than I have to. "And how did he come to be in the past tense, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He bled out." An accident.

His eyebrows arch, curious despite himself, and he holds the vial up to the light. "I am not quite seeing the connection between all of these things."

In a halting voice, because I myself am uncertain of the situation, I try to repeat what Lionel told me. About the increased Vitamin E, about how it might be what is used in the shots we are given. The shots that he investigated in the first place.

Zakariah moves to the chair and spins it around to sit -- only to find Lionel perched in its depths. He reaches out and pulls Lionel from it so that he can sit down. He coughs as he does so, and the sound sets me on edge.

Glen's cough had started out in much the same way, unassuming but ever present. Persistent.

"This will take me some time to investigate."

"So you'll help us?" Lionel asks as he takes up position at my side.

With a snort and a shake of his head, Zakariah starts to clear off space on his desk. "Against my better judgement, I will," he says, confirming my thoughts. He doesn't want to be curious, but he is. He tries to cover it up with the fact that he's more interested in the reward I have to offer, but I know that expression. I've seen that expression on my uncle.

It's the same expression he gave me when I first told him about Meliora.

For a moment, I forget that I’m not with Zoné. I reach out for a hand to hold, and there’s only Lionel's. To my surprise, he lets me, and his presence is reassuring. He returns my grip with a gentle squeeze. "Let us know when it is done."

Zakariah doesn't respond, already commencing in his preparations.

I pull Lionel towards the door and, although it takes me a few tries, push the door open so I can stumble down the stairs.

I breathe in deep, once again savoring the weight of the atmosphere this close to the river. It is a good distraction. It is a better taste than the bile in the back of my throat.

"Are you sure this is the best idea?" Lionel asks, hurrying after me.

As much as I wish there was, I can't think of a better one. "There are no others."

He bites his lip, then blurts out, "About what you said to him--"

I close my eyes and shake my head. "Please do not ask me again, Lionel. I will not answer." I don't know how to answer. I can't even tell Zoné the whole truth.

He huffs and sighs and rolls his eyes, but lets the topic drop.

We stand in silence on the sidewalk before Zakariah's lab, the street empty and dead. I would never have been able to pick out this door from any of the others. I wonder how many of them also have occupants trying to work away from ALICE's reach.

At the same time, we turn back in the direction of the station and commence our walk. Neither of us speak.

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