Meliora - Extricate - 52

[lady_mab]

Jun Zhou

Lionel called his coworker Rain and myself to a meeting, and I suggested Uncle Bao’s restaurant. We already saw what happened when we tried to go outside of people that we trusted. During the talk, Lionel handed over two microdrivers and told us, “Just in case.”

A backup, just in case.

Just in case ALICE decides to make good on their threats. Just in case Lionel ends up like Glen. An accident.

Rain departs, and that leaves Lionel and I to sit in silence at the table. He takes a dumpling, studies it, then eats it with a small noise of approval.

Neither of us want to consider the full implication of what everything means. There is something in the drugs we are being injected with that helps us remember.

“Do you think this will change anything?” I ask, nudging the microdrive with the tip of my finger. He seems to think that there is another puzzle contained in there, but what I’m afraid of is finding a whole new rabbit hole to tumble down. “If we tell the world, would anyone listen?”

Lionel drops back against the booth, eyes slipping shut as he sighs. His whole body slumps, the earlier tension bleeding out of his limbs, but it doesn’t look comfortable. “I honestly don’t know. But lying to myself while I still can is better than the alternative.”

I swipe the chip off the table and into the palm of my hand. “This is true. I’ll give this to Lao Wantong.”

From the corner of my eye, I see his lips twitch into a frown before he pushes himself to his feet. “I’m sure he’ll know what to do with it.”

I smile despite myself. I already know that he’ll be very interested in what it could possibly mean -- the only problem will be trying to find someone who can understand it. Previously, Lionel had relied on Zakariah, but we’ve since learned that we need to pick those we entrust this information with with a lighter touch.

“Good luck, Lionel,” I tell him. “Zoné and I are here if you need anything.”

He stares down at me, hands in his pockets, and his brow ticks in consideration. “Thanks,” he finally says. His voice is small, thoughtful. “Same for you two. Lia and I… whatever we’re worth, we’re here.”

They’re worth more than they think they are, and the thought causes the smile to widen. I am glad to have them at our sides. It is better to have a united front than to go into this scattered to the winds.

“Yi fan feng shun.” I barely get the phrase out before Lionel’s expression shifts into something bewildered. “You might say ‘smooth sailing’, I think. Good luck, Lionel.”

His jaw juts forward stubbornly. “I’m not even going to try and say it back to you.”

I laugh again and shake my head. “I’ll see you at school.”

He relaxes and nods. With a parting wave, he makes his way back out through the crowded tables of my uncle’s restaurant.

I close my fingers around the driver and can't feel it bite into the skin of my palm.

I push myself to my feet and scoop up the plate with the last few remaining dumplings on it in my free hand to the best of my ability. At least I've had practice carrying around larger things since my hands have started to become uncooperative.

With sure footsteps and less confident hands, I make my way back into the kitchen. I leave the plate on the counter and take a quick glance around the busy interior. All I see are white uniforms and brushed steel equipment, and the sounds are a combination of Mandarin, English, and kitchenware. I love this bustle, this collision of senses and cultures.

It is the reason that I have to keep pushing on.

Uncle Bao is not present. He commands himself with a sort of air that you can identify across a crowded room. There is another chef in his place, which means that he's upstairs.

My passage through the kitchen to the door leading to the apartment comes with a wave of greetings, and I call back as many as I can.

The stairwell is tight and holds onto the smells of the kitchen with a sense of jealous ferocity. No matter what time of day, what season, it smells like the entire menu is on display. I take a deep breath, savoring it, and jog up the stairs to the apartment above.

Lily sits at the dining room table, headphones in and homework spread out before her. She doesn't glance up as I enter, but does give me a wiggle of her fingers in acknowledgement.

I swat at her hand like I'm trying to give her a high five and she laughs.

Uncle Bao's office is just off the kitchen, the first room before any of our bedrooms. It is small and cramped, probably no better than a storage closet converted into something worthy of a desk and various knick knacks. At least there aren't filing cabinets crammed full of paper, or there would be no space at all. That sort of aesthetic was left behind when things went digital.

The balding top of my uncle's head is the first thing I see, with the rest of him bent over his tablet and squinting at the screen. "The text on these things is too small," he grumbles at the sound of my footsteps pausing in his doorway. "They need to make them bigger."

"They do, and you know it," I say, stepping in and leaning over. With a few taps on the screen, I turn up the brightness and increase the font size. "Don't act like a doddering old man."

He humphs and straightens his back. "I think people like that image."

"I'm your niece, not a customer."

The grin that cuts across his face is sharp and clever, and nothing like an old man complaining about not being able to read his tablet. "How did your meeting go?"

I have nowhere to sit, because I don't want to jump up onto the edge of the table and leaning against the wall feels too far away. So I stand where I am and drop the microdriver onto his desk. "My friend says that this is a contingency plan."

Uncle Bao's eyebrows lift and he picks up the small device. "To what?"

"You know what." Sometimes he forgets, and now I know why. Or at least, now I have a better understanding. It's almost like a game between us lately -- I get him to tell me what he knows, and I fill in the missing spots.

"The game you are playing, Meliora. You got the answers about your friend, and you mean to say that there is more?" He spins it between his fingers but doesn't put it into his tablet.

I tap my fingers stiffly against my forearm. "Lionel seems to think so. The drug that was uncovered for us by the man Zakariah--"

"The one who betrayed you and tried to sell you out to ALICE after you were nice enough to help him?"

"Yes." My spine shivers at the memory of the monster lurking in the doorway, its lilting voice mocking Lionel. "That one. He told Lionel that there are traces of drugs used to alter memory. It is what makes it easier for me to remember, and harder for you."

He leans back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. "Thank you for not trying to suggest that I'm too old."

"Uncle Bao," I say, frustrated, and he waves a hand to dismiss his joke. “The reason you cannot form memories, the reason I have to get an injection each month to help me remember.” I lean over and jab a finger at the driver. “Lionel seems to think that the answer is in there.”

My uncle levels me with a serious glance before once again sitting forward and taking the driver back into his grip. “And I expect you think I can do something with it”

“I expect that you know some people who can do something with it.”

He keeps his gaze focused on the plastic framed between his fingers. “So should something happen, I use this to get the truth. You would like for me to release it to the public?”

It sounds kind of silly and like an Old World spy movie. It doesn’t seem possible. But I clench my jaw and nod. “Yes.”

“What an interesting challenge to be presented with,” he hums to himself. “And the other one who was there. What is his role?”

“I don’t think I told you about the blog, the Lady & the Ghost?” When he shakes his head, I explain what little I know of it. I’ve read the posts, took in their words, but knew that it was their own way to do what I was trying to do.

We both want to help everyone. The Lady and the Ghost want to do it by getting the people of Meliora to act out and make themselves heard. I want to do it as subtly as possible, so that when it’s complete, no one will notice the change. There will just be one.

“He has contact information for the people who run it. It is his job to give it to them, so that they can also spread the word.”

“I see, I see.” He sets the driver back down on his table. “I will do this, then. You must make sure to remind me.” This is also something that we do every time we talk about Meliora: You must make sure to remind me.

“I will.” I lean forward and place a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for all your help.”

He accepts it and pats my shoulder as I pull back. “Are you sure that you would not want to stay? I am certain we can fix your hands. You would do very well taking over for me.”

I know that he means in the restaurant, but I know he also means with his role as the Old Imp. “I don’t think I have that sort of fire in me.”

“Xiaolongnu is all ice, no fire.”

“Uncle…”

He waves his hand again and the smile on his face is sad but understanding. “You only let me know what you need. I am here to help you.”

“You are here to help the people of Eminence.”

“Of which you are one,” he concedes with a nod. “Together, we will ensure that our friends are safe, and that everyone is informed. An ignorant city is a stupid city. I cannot work with a stupid city.”

“And I cannot save an ignorant one.”

Uncle Bao gives me a hard, appraising look. “You are doing well, Jun. I am proud of you.”

I duck my head as I turn out of the office, a rush of emotions that I don’t know how to pick apart nearly overwhelming me. I am proud of myself, yes, and I am glad that others are proud of my work. But at the same time, I know I have to work harder -- that I’ve already lost too much, and if I allow myself to relax now, I will lose more.

I will consider it a victory when not only the lucky few are released, but the entire population. Then, all of us will be the lucky ones.

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