The Deaths of Tao (49 page)

Nice throw.
 

“I was aiming for his neck actually.”

I know.
 

He reached the third level and crept toward the far end of the passageway, which opened to a set of stairs outside the tower that led to where the prisoners were. With luck, maybe the Genjix would think no one was dumb enough to assault the tower and leave it deserted except for maybe one or two Genjix to guard the prisoners. It was a good thing Roen was dumb enough to do just that.

He stayed low and inched down the hallway, tilting his head through the opening on the first door on the left. Inside, he found one of the Genjix sorting through a stash of guns. Roen slid his knife out again and in a single bound leaped forward and jammed it into the guy’s neck with one hand and covered his mouth with the other.

Two down.
 

Roen exited the door leading to the outside and crept up the deck. There was one Genjix guarding the prisoners, and he was busy scanning the deck below. A few seconds later, Roen had crept up behind him and snapped his neck.

Three. Well done. You really are becoming a master at this.
 

Roen rushed to the unconscious Ray lying on the floor.

Leave him. Untie the crew first and have them carry him. Escort them to safety and then help Dylan.
 

Roen grudgingly complied with Tao’s orders. Luckily, the crew seemed to understand what he said and picked up the unconscious Ray by his hands and feet. Suddenly, the bridge door opened, and Jacob and the three other Genjix walked out onto the deck. Roen open fired point blank and struck one in the chest, but he was too close to get a good shot at the others.

“Get Ray out of here!” he screamed, barreling into the remaining three Genjix and pushing them inside the bridge. A blow to the side of the head knocked him off balance. Roen pivoted toward the attacked and pulled the trigger, just missing Jacob.

“It’s Roen! I want him alive,” Jacob snarled.

Another blow struck Roen in the eye and someone else swept his legs. He crashed to the floor, losing his rifle and tried to cover up as blows rained down on him. Then everything went dark.

 

FORTY-FOUR

IN THE NAME OF THE GRANDSON

We are no longer the puppet masters hiding behind the curtain. We are now on display for all to judge. I fear that the sentence handed down by our former wards will not be kind. Were we your guides or your slave masters? That is for you to decide. I find small solace in the belief that revealing our existence was the right moral decision. In the end, that means very little.
 

For the first time since we crashed onto this planet, the future is dark. I do not know what lies ahead and that is foreboding. The balance between human and Quasing has been disrupted, and now, humanity is in control of our destiny. All that we have built, we have put into humanity. And it will be you, our children, who can cut us down. And I cannot blame you if you do.
 

Tao

 

Roen, wake up!
 

“Five more minutes. It’s too cold to go jogging this morning.”

You have to stay with me, my friend.
 

A hard slap across his face shook his entire body. Roen blinked and woke to a blurry picture, as if he were watching a Van Gogh television show. Suddenly, the nerves just below his skin began to pound on their pain receptors to let his brain know they weren’t feeling great at the moment. He groaned. Another blow snapped his face to the side.

“What happened?”

Stay quiet. You were beaten. Your eyes have been closed, but by the voices, at least three individuals. Jacob Diamont is here.
 

“Well, that sucks.”

Indeed.
 

“I’ll just pretend to still be unconscious.”

That plan went out the window a second later when he felt what could only be a cigarette burn on his arm. Roen’s nerves screamed and shot pain up his arm and through his entire body. He opened his eyes and gasped, gritting his teeth as he tried to pull his arm away. The jerk burning him clamped a hand down on his forearm and grinned. Finally, Roen couldn’t tolerate the pain anymore, and a moan escaped his lips. His vision blurred and tears welled up in his eyes. Then jerk let go of his arm and Roen collapsed onto the ground.

“Pick him back up,” a voice he recognized as Jacob’s said.

When Roen had regained his composure, he lifted his head and saw Jacob sitting on a chair, studying him intently. On his left, a Genjix soldier was patting a steel rod in his hand. On his right, the man with the cigarette was taking a drag.

Looking around, he saw that he was slumped over on a chair in the bridge. The entire room was at a slight incline. The sky was still dark, so he couldn’t have been out that long. Outside the window, a large fire burned at the rear of the ship. Dylan and the guys must have done it. The engine was destroyed and now
Imelda’s Song
was adrift. A lone gunshot pierced the air. At least that meant his guys were still fighting.

“Hello, Mr Tan, welcome back to the world of the living. Rest assured, it’ll be a short visit,” Jacob said.

“You know...” Roen tried to enunciate the words but with all the blood pooling inside his mouth, it came out a bit mushy. He spat to his right, shooting the blood onto the pant leg of the guy with the cigarette. “Smoking can lead to emphysema, which could cause death, or at the very least make you bad at soccer.” His smart-ass comment was rewarded with a punch to the jaw from the guy with the smoking habit.

He was about to receive another when Jacob held the guy’s arm. “That’s enough. Mr Tan and I have unfinished business. You two, go help mop the rabble downstairs.”

“Are you sure, sir?” Cigarette Man asked, shaking the hand that had so carelessly rammed into Roen’s head a moment ago. “He’s dangerous. He killed most of squad four.”

Jacob brushed him off. “Leave him to me. He’s half dead, anyway. Now!”

If Jacob felt the need to send these guys to deal with Dylan, then maybe the fight was going better than he thought. The two soldiers bowed and left the room, leaving Roen alone with Jacob Diamont. The boy was so confident, Roen wasn’t even tied up. Not like he was in any shape to do much anyway. They had really worked him over. Roen moved his fingers and toes to make sure nothing was broken. He took a deep breath and felt a stabbing pain in his chest.

“Ooh, that’s a cracked rib.”

Probably two.
 

“Quick Tao, tell me what I need to do to beat him. Analyze our last fight.”

There is nothing to analyze. He beat you too quickly last time to gauge his abilities.
 

“Well, that’s a tad disheartening.”

Here is what I do know. He is faster and stronger than you. And as much as I hate to say it, from what I could tell, he has better technique as well.
 

“Remind me to never have you in my corner during a fight.”

However, Jacob is young, prideful, and easy to anger. Push him into doing something stupid.
 

Joseph leaned forward in the chair. “You left far too quickly last time, Mr Tan.”

“Look Jacob,” Roen said. “I think the ship is sinking. Maybe you have something better to do right now than beat on me. Like get off the ship maybe? You have the rest of your life ahead of you. Go date. Find a girlfriend.”

Jacob leaped forward in a blur and slapped Roen in the face with a crushing backhand.

“And stop slapping me, you sissy!” Roen snarled. “God, what’s with all you Genjix and slapping people?”

Jacob grabbed Roen by the collar and lifted him with ease. “Do not make light of this situation. I have been dreaming of you ever since I learned that Grandfather was killed by an insignificant Prophus named Roen Tan. I have dedicated myself to honoring Grandfather and seeing you dead.” He pushed Roen back in the chair so hard that he tipped over and fell onto his back.

It took a second for Roen to get all his limbs moving the way his brain told them to. Trying to appear calm, he picked himself up from the ground, turned the chair right side up, and sat back down. He went as far to brush some of the dirt off his shirt.

You are overdoing it.
 

“You really didn’t know your grandfather well, did you, kid?” Roen said in a forced patient tone, one that he remembered his father using on him when he was young. “I don’t know where all this hero worship is coming from, but Sean was a really bad man. To be honest, he was also kind of a prick.”

Roen noticed Jacob flinch at those words. To him, Grandpa Sean stood on a pedestal.

“He wasn’t even that great of a fighter. I mean, you even said I suck, and we both know I kicked his ass.”

That last comment did it. Jacob roared and tried to knock Roen’s head off. Roen managed to duck, just barely. If it had connected, he had no doubt that the blow would have shattered a bone in his face. But luckily for him, Jacob was predictable. Just as the swing flew over his head, Roen popped Jacob right in the solar plexus, following it up with an uppercut that snapped his head back. He then cleared his mind and fell into his combat mindset, letting his body dictate his movements, continuously changing angles to confuse the boy. There would be no brute forcing this kid. Roen had to rely on his training and his skill to beat him.

His cleared mind lasted a whole twenty seconds. Roen successfully battered and confused the boy through several feints and counters before Jacob did the combat equivalent of “to hell with this nonsense” and grabbed the first thing he could get his claws on – which in this case was Roen’s shirt and forearm – and tossed him across the room like a rag doll. Roen’s back smashed against a window pane, cracking the glass, and he fell into a heap on the floor.

“God, he’s strong. What the hell are they feeding them at the Hatchery? Steroid burgers?”

Comes from years of doing nothing but training. He also has a severe reach advantage.
 

Roen picked himself up off the ground and managed to give Jacob a bloody grin. It seemed Roen’s surprise flurry had done some damage at least. Well, a bloody lip and a cut eye wasn’t exactly debilitating, but at least he had scored some points on the young Ivan Drago. Except now, Jacob wasn’t messing around anymore. Roen recognized the classic shotokan stance again as they circled each other.

“I wish I had my knife still.”

Or a gun.
 

“Or a grenade.”

That would kill you both.
 

“Would be worth it.”

What happened to seeing Jill and Cameron?
 

“In my current situation? Those odds are depressingly low. Best I can hope for is taking both of us out in a blaze of glory.”

The two began their deadly dance. Now that they were fighting from neutral positions in tight quarters in which Roen couldn’t maneuver as easily, Jacob’s superior range became a serious issue, and the boy knew how to maintain his advantage. Coupled with his speed, Roen was getting pot-shotted to death, though he was getting his fair share of hits in as well.

By the end of the first minute, Jacob’s face was turning a beautiful shade of puffy red. Unfortunately, Roen’s was such a hot bloody mess that he probably wouldn’t recognize himself in the mirror. The kid must have sharp knuckles because his punches kept cutting gashes open on Roen’s face. And to top things off, Jacob liked to trash talk.

“You’re an old has-been, old timer,” he smirked as Roen ate another punch to the nose that rearranged his face.

“And you’re... redundant,” Roen growled as he threw a hard right that only hit air.

He is using his speaking to distract you, and as a form of
kiai
. Study his breathing.
 

Roen realized then that Tao was right. Jacob didn’t blab unless he was pushing the pace. Unfortunately, he pushed the pace and blabbed quite a bit. Roen was slowly getting beaten to a pulp.

“I’m down on points, Tao, going into the championship rounds. What do I do?”

He is as good with his legs as with his hands. Crowd him and put him on his back.
 

Jacob shuffled forward and attacked, throwing three straight blinding punches and following up with a chambered side kick. Roen was able to dodge and block the trio of punches but took the side kick full in his mid-section, right where his ribs were cracked. He blacked out from the pain while flying backwards from the impact. The saving grace was that he was already unconscious when his body broke through the window and flew out onto the bridge deck. Roen slid across the deck until he slammed into the railing, which briefly brought him back to consciousness. He looked down at the drop into the ocean below. Then everything darkened once more. He woke to more slaps on the face.

Stay with me, Roen!
 

“Can’t have you unconscious when you die, Mr Tan,” Jacob sneered.

“First of all,” Roen mumbled, “stop slapping me. It’s not manly. Second of all, you can call me Roen, you little psychopath.”

Jacob grabbed him by the side of the face and slammed his head against the metal railing. “As you wish, Roen.” He pulled Roen in close. “This is for Grandfather, you evil Prophus bastard.” And then he threw Roen over the side down toward the deck, four stories below.

Just as Roen went over, he reached out and grabbed at the railing. Grabbed at anything, really. An image of Jacob’s face and collar popped into his mind and instead of grabbing the bar, Roen got his hand on Jacob’s shirt at the collar right at the base of the neck. The kid fell forward and nearly decapitated himself on the metal railing. He saved himself by pushing his hands against the bar at the last moment. And there Roen dangled, with only his tenuous hold on Jacob’s shirt keeping him alive. He reached up with his other hand. Jacob’s face was turning purple as he tried to hold up Roen’s weight with his arms and neck.