Snake Agent: A Detective Inspector Chen Novel (31 page)

"What happens now?" Ma ventured. No Ro Shi turned to look at him and Ma was appalled at the bleakness in his eyes. It made the demon-hunter's previously dour demeanor seem almost jolly.

"This is where it begins, Sergeant," No Ro Shi said softly. "Welcome to the end of the world." With that, he slid out of the car and began walking quickly along the fence, without waiting to see if Ma was behind him.
Ten out of ten for style,
Ma thought with uncharacteristic irony,
but several minus points for team work.
Or, indeed, explaining things. He got out of the car, making sure that the doors were locked, and followed the demon-hunter.

At the end of the fence, No Ro Shi stopped and crouched down on the ground. Taking a thick pallet of incense from his pocket, he scratched a small hole in the dry, dusty earth and inserted the pallet into it. Then he passed his hand over the half-buried incense and murmured a word that made Ma's head ring. The incense began to glow, and the demon-hunter stood up, dusting his hands.

"That should hold us," he muttered. After his brief period working with Chen, Ma knew better than to ask what he meant. No Ro Shi turned to him.

"Sergeant? I want you to stay here, keep an eye out for anything untoward. I'm going to take a look at the dorm. Call me at once if
that
—" he pointed to the incense "—changes color, or if you see anything."

Ma nodded, in some bewilderment. "All right."

"Good," said the demon-hunter, and loped swiftly in the direction of the dorm. Ma tried to watch him go, but No Ro Shi was suddenly difficult to see: there was only a long shadow, perhaps a gull's, moving fast across the dust and the scrub. That was a neat trick, Ma thought, scared and impressed. He craned his neck around the fence, trying to see where the demon-hunter had gone, but no one was in sight. Ma looked out across the port, which lay basking in the late afternoon light, thinking how peaceful it all seemed. The only sign of activity were the long necks of the warehouse cranes moving at the far end of the wharf, loading cargo from a ship with a Macau flag. A gull sailed high overhead and cried out, making Ma jump. He sighed and squatted down by the fence. He glanced at the incense, but it still had the same cold glow, almost lost in the afternoon light. Idly, Ma watched the cloud shadows drift over the sea, dappling the water so that it was first dark, then mirror-bright. Sunlight sparked from the chain links of the fence, gleamed off distant warehouse roofs, flashed from a window on the far headland. The light dazzled Ma: it seemed to spin and turn, locking him into a world where suddenly nothing was substantial anymore, there was only sunlight and shadow, unweaving the world itself until there was nothing left . . .

The shriek came from high above his head: as cold and malign as the cry of a bird. Something flashed through the falling light, a blade made of darkness that cast the world around him into nightmare midnight and beneath it, something fell squealing. Ma rocked painfully back against the razor-wire fence but a hand caught him and hauled him to his feet. He gaped down at the thing that lay twitching at his feet, its mantis features dissolving into acrid light.

"You were lucky, Ma," No Ro Shi said harshly, sheathing the black blade. "It nearly had you."

Ma stared at him, trying to process an overload of information. "I didn't see anything," he said, aware of how feeble it sounded.

"I noticed. If it's any comfort, Sergeant, the
zu'a
have crept up on better men than you."

"Zu'a?"

"Sun-demons, Sergeant. Someone must be controlling it; they're woven from light. Temporary creatures, but dangerous." He poked the mound of dust in which the incense was buried with the toe of his boot: the little light was ashy dead. "Now. I've been taking a look at the dorm. Something's horribly wrong." He put a hand on Ma's arm. "Come with me."

Ma still felt weak and shaky, but he could not disobey: the demon-hunter's voice pulled him up like a puppeteer jerking the strings. Together, they ran across the wasteland to the dorm. The gates of the razor-wire fence that protected the property were closed and bolted, and so were the heavy double doors.

"Most of the building's underground," No Ro Shi said, glancing behind him. "We have to find a way to get in."

"Don't these places usually have a security team on base?" Ma asked.

The demon-hunter nodded. "Yes, they do."

"So where are they?" Ma asked uneasily. No Ro Shi did not reply. Instead, he reached out and touched a gloved hand to something red and wet adhering to the razor wire. Ma looked away.

"How are we going to get in then?" Ma asked, suddenly hating the way his voice sounded so high and nervous. Perhaps that wasn't the plan. Perhaps they could just call for reinforcements and he could watch from behind the police car while a SWAT team kicked in the doors. Ma, while lamenting his own cowardice, did not feel that he was in a position to substantially address it; better just to go with the flow. Looking at No Ro Shi's iron countenance, however, he realized that calling for reinforcements would not be an option.

"Stand back, Sergeant," No Ro Shi instructed him. Ma was only too happy to comply. He shuffled back a few paces, careful to keep tabs on what might be happening behind them. He watched with a sinking feeling of familiarity as No Ro Shi raised his sword, held in both hands by the blade so that a trickle of blood ran down the sleeves of his armored coat, and began to chant. He flicked the blade upwards, and Ma winced as a sharp burst of light stabbed his eyes. Then the sword was falling, skewering sunlight as it fell, and No Ro Shi caught it by the hilt and sliced through the locks of the door as though they were soft as bean curd.

"After me!" he shouted, kicking in the door. Ma swallowed a lump of fear, drew his gun, and plunged after the demon-hunter before he had time to think better of it. Whatever he did in front of this character was going to make him look like an idiot, he thought, so he might as well obey orders. The metal doors were blasted back on their hinges as No Ro Shi charged through, pursued by the panting Ma.

Next minute, Ma found himself in a reception area containing a desk and a number of chairs. The carpet was of good quality, and the smooth pale walls were lined with upbeat portraits of smiling workers. At the far end, an artful photograph of a nexus floating in her tank formed a dramatic introduction to the open-plan stairwell. Ma studied the nexus' face: she had been airbrushed to perfection, and she looked as though her dreams were happy ones.

"Downstairs," No Ro Shi ordered, after a quick and thorough search of the reception area. "That's where the dorms are."

Ma followed him down a steep staircase that terminated in a doorway. The heavy metal door was wide open, revealing its complex locking mechanism. It led into a kind of airlock, ending at a second door. This, too, was open. There was the rasp of metal against silk as the demon-hunter drew his sword, wrapped a rosary around his free hand, and motioned to Ma to be quiet. Then he stepped through the door. Ma's own fingers were white around the grip of the gun as he steeled himself for whatever might lie inside.

Inside, the dormitory was anticlimactically silent and still. The coils of the bioweb apparatus hung in serpentine arrays from the ceiling, filling the upper half of the room, and spiraling back towards the regeneration units at the far end of the room. Viral liquids seethed within. The bodies of the nexi bobbed in their tanks like weed caught on the tide, and everything was so peaceful that it was a moment before Ma noticed the smell: a too-pungent, antiseptic odor, concealing decay. He crossed to the nearest tank and peered in curiously. In all the infomercials he'd seen, the nexi had appeared to be sweetly asleep, hands crossed modestly on their breasts, eyes shut, smiling as they dreamed within a delicate cradle of fine filaments. He did not recall seeing the thick tubes that penetrated the nexus' mouth and anus, nor the bruising crawl of wires beneath her skin. And the eyes of this nexus were open, gazing sightlessly into nothing. The liquid in which she was floating resembled a thick, murky soup. No Ro Shi's hand caught him by the shoulder, jerking him backwards.

"She's dead," the demon-hunter whispered. "Like the rest of them."

"Dead?" Ma echoed in dismay. To his horror, No Ro Shi drew his sword and severed the ridged locks that secured the tank. The side of the tank swung slowly down with a hiss of hydraulic hinges, and the fluid within drained away into the service tubes. The nexus, still connected to her tubing, lay limply on the floor of the tank, and now Ma could see that her pallor was not due to the filtered light of the tank. No Ro Shi reached out with a gloved hand and detached the tube from her mouth, leaving it distended in a gape of horror.

"Bloodless," he said, probing the sides of the girl's mouth. "She's been drained."

"Who by? And why?"

No Ro Shi tapped impatient fingers against the sides of the tank.

"By the powers of Hell. As to why, we need look no further than the Ministry of Epidemics. A plague, Chen said. A plague is coming, and I believe that this is one of the places where it starts."

"A plague?" Ma had sudden visions of himself being consumed by disease. "You've brought me into a
plague
zone?"

"Don't worry," No Ro said, with a lipless grin. "You and I are protected, at least for the next hour or so. I have a patron deity, you see, who negotiates to keep us safe. But he won't be able to do that forever. Now that I've confirmed my suspicions, we need to take samples and get out of here." He took a slender black case from inside his coat and opened it. A number of small instruments lay within. Ma, peering nervously over the demon-hunter's shoulder, noted that there seemed to be a preponderance of scalpels, and something that resembled an apple corer.

"Take a look around the rest of the building," No Ro Shi instructed, selecting a scalpel. "I'll get started here."

"Hang on," Ma said. "That thing that attacked me—the thing made of light. You said it was being controlled by someone. What if—" He glanced nervously around him.

"It's around," the demon-hunter said abruptly. "I can smell it. A demon of some kind, but it's keeping out of the way. The things that invoke sun-demons aren't themselves strong, but they are clever. Just watch your back. And I expect you to watch mine, too."

"All right," Ma said unhappily. Then he added: "If this actually is the beginning of a plague—I mean, shouldn't we get one of the special units in?"

No Ro Shi did not reply for a moment. He was occupied with detaching a small fragment of skin from the dead girl's throat. Then he said, "Sergeant, this is a conundrum with which I frequently find myself dealing. Too much attention drawn to the wrong thing, and one finds oneself—blocked. Mysterious obstacles are placed in one's path by one's superiors, and the more critical an incident seems to be, the more quickly those obstacles appear. You'd be surprised at the number of times I get taken off a case, just as some crucial breakthrough's about to happen." He sounded bitter, and Ma couldn't blame him. "Singapore Three's different from Beijing. Your captain's a relatively enlightened man, I think. He supports Chen instead of undermining him, but Chen tends not to deal with major incidents—no disrespect to the honorable Detective, but his work's pretty routine. The things I deal with are different, and there are a great many people who have made it their job to ensure that I fail more often than I succeed. I'm sure you understand the nature of politics today, Sergeant. Hell's never very far away, as I'm sure you've learned. Now, get on with your job. We haven't got all day."

He bent his head once more to his macabre task, leaving Ma to trail reluctantly back towards the stairs. As he did so, he noticed to his dismay that there was a slimy trail along the floor: a faint iridescence as though a large snail had oozed across it. It led through the doors and into the reception area.

No sound came from the reception area itself. Ma followed the trail into a nearby corridor and discovered a series of small rooms, obviously offices. All were deserted. In the second office, two cups of half-drunk coffee stood on a table. They were still tepid. Leaving them where they stood, Ma peered into the third office. Nothing. The drawer of a filing cabinet was open, and Ma leafed through a thick stack of what appeared to be medical records, but they weren't very revealing. A rattling noise from the corner made him jump, but it was only a batch of paper tumbling out of the shredder. Ma doubted that demons would need to use recycling technology but, like the coffee cups, it raised the question of how long this place had been abandoned. The back of his neck prickled cold. Turning, he went back out into the corridor and headed towards the final office, where the slimy trail terminated. He encountered the smell before he stepped through the door. It was overpoweringly strong: the smell of blood.

Very cautiously, his gun drawn, Ma put an eye to the crack in the door. The office was awash. There was no attempt at subtlety—no arcane symbols daubed across the walls, no sanguinary warnings inscribed in ancient scripts—just blood. It looked as though someone had simply hurled a tank of red paint into the room. Holding his breath, the gun extended before him, Ma plunged through the doorway. There wasn't even a body. He'd been half-expecting to find the imaginatively butchered corpse of some nurse or technician spread-eagled against the wall, but there was nothing to show where the blood originated. Ma made a cursory search, but there was so much of the stuff that he couldn't even determine the angle it had come from. It painted the doorframe, covered the walls and had made the carpet squishy. Gagging, Ma backed out and ran stickily down the corridor, thoughts of plague running rife through his beleaguered brain.

All No Ro Shi said was, "I expected something like that. Right. I've finished the sampling, we might as well go. Once we're out of here I'll call your captain and get the dorm sealed. Don't mention this to anyone else. The less fuss the better."