Weeb and Park were lounging on a wide leather sofa beneath a cloud of poltash smoke and drinking from a decanter of plum saak, the sweetest of all Hokki liquors.

  “I’ll take it from here, Burr. Close the doors behind me.”

  “You’re positive you wouldn’t prefer I …”

  “No. We’re going to talk business. Perfectly safe. Oh, and the doctor is supposed to be here in an hour. Notify me when he arrives.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  They waited until the doors were shut before saying a word. Weeb reached for the decanter and poured a third glass.

  “How did it go?” He said.

  “Like the others. At least it’s done. I’m tired of ceremonies.”

  Ya-Li climbed out of the wheelchair and started toward the sofa.

  “Slow down there,” Park said, rushing to him. “Have you been cleared to walk?”

  “I wasn’t shot in the legs, Park.” He took the glass of plum saak from Weeb. “I hate that chair. It was designed for functionality but not comfort. I pity the Hokkis who have no choice in the matter.”

  He asked Weeb and Park to fill their glasses.

  When they joined him, Ya-Li said, “I know I’ve told you this before, but today reminds me of the need to keep telling you. I would not be here without you. You’re my brothers in every way that matters. Thank you for holding it all together and not accusing me of general insanity.”

  Weeb delivered the crooked smile Ya-Li loved.

  “You’re a cudfrucking loony,” he said, “but I love you, my brother.”

  “Please,” Park added, “no more assassination attempts. OK?”

  “That’s a promise I’ll keep. Cheers.”

  They tapped glasses and enjoyed long sips of the nectar.

  “Come,” Park said. “Have a seat, Ya-Li.”

  “In time. If you don’t mind, I feel like being on my feet for a bit. Did I ever tell you? When I was a boy, I exercised more in here than anywhere else.” Their frowns were expected. “It’s true. I read nine thousand books, and ninety percent I read while I walked. Wore out the carpet. This was the only place I felt safe. If not for the Splinter and the two of you, this would still be my refuge.”

  Park sighed. “And the world wouldn’t know what you’re trying to do for them.”

  “We,” Ya-Li said. “This is our dream. Yes?”

  “Of course. I didn’t mean anything. It’s just … it feels mad being at the center of history. How many people can truly say they’re changing the world?”

  “For the moment? Three.”

  He walked to a north-facing window and pulled back the curtains.

  “I suppose we must get down to business.” Ya-Li snapped his fingers. “I’m thinking of a term. It’s something military. I’ve seen it in the drama vids. It’s where the captain asks for the latest news.”

  “Ah,” Weeb said. “Situation report.”

  “Yes, yes. Sit-rep.” He grabbed Weeb’s pipe and took a long puff. “OK, Druuds. Time for sit-rep. Who wants to start?”

  Park nodded. “Weeb has a longer list, so I’ll get mine out of the way. I visited Shuen-Lo this morning. They’re picking up the pace. We can begin installing the rooftop platform tomorrow. The reflector panels will take longer, but Shuen-Lo is confident we’ll have the final device in place the day before Ascension.”

  “That’s closer than I’d like. If there’s any disruption in his schedule … Park, this is everything for us.”

  “I know. The glasswork is delicate. It can’t be rushed, not if we want the full effect. He’s a good engineer, and he’s discreet. He’ll get it done. We’ll be able to test drive the array before Ascension.”

  “Thank you, Park, for staying on top of this. I worried about many things while I was in the hospital, but nothing chafed at me more than whether we’d make the deadline. What else?”

  “Hira Jade, our Director of Marketing, needs you to provide a statement to lead off tomorrow’s Convocation if you don’t plan to attend yourself. She’s willing to craft something in your name. It will be very corporate and non-offensive, I’m sure.”

  Ya-Li chuckled. “And sound nothing like me. I’ll patch together a few words and send by tonight. I want those seats filled tomorrow so the full board can meet on Meolin. I want my policies approved yesterday. Speaking of which, what’s the reaction from our distributors?”

  “They’re concerned about the spike in demand, of course, but I reassured them we’ll be ramping production as soon as the PrezBoard votes. Father has completed his prospectus. The first two to three weeks will be trying, but our infrastructure can handle it.”

  “Excellent. Any pushback from our senior officers or ship captains?”

  “They’ve been surprisingly adaptable. They know I’m speaking on your behalf, and they know Father would never sign off on this plan if he didn’t think it feasible. They might change their tune when the profit margins narrow, but for now, they play along. We’re spinning a lot of plates, Ya-Li.”

  “Ascension is nine days out. After that, no one will oppose us.”

  Park pulled on his pipe.

  “Should I file that under ‘Famous Last Quotes’?”

  “Feel free to throw it in my face if I’m wrong.”

  Ya-Li turned to Weeb.

  “I’m guessing your report isn’t as upbeat?”

  “Sure it is. I’ll just remove the bits about body counts, conspiracies, terrorists, and the strange shit happening on Huryo.” He pointed to Park in jest. “I can sound as upbeat as this asshole.”

  When the laughter died down, Ya-Li wrapped an arm around Weeb.

  “I don’t pay you to paint rainbows. Tell me everything.”

  Weeb dropped his smile.

  “I think you’d better sit for this.”

  20

  I ’LL START WITH A RAINBOW,” Weeb said. “You’re a cudfrucking hero, Ya-Li. You nearabout got yourself killed, but damn if it didn’t work. You’re trending on Global Wave bankboards, backchannels, and provincial RES sites, ten to one over the attacks, and fifty to one over Green Sun and these new terrorists, March Forward. The biggest movement is on the continent. You’re seeing some genuine love from the anti-gov movements in New Seoul and Puratoon. These Hokkis didn’t know who you were a week ago. Now most of them think you’re a symbol of a new seamaster fighting the old guard and being shot for it. As publicity goes, it’s not bad.”

  Ya-Li heard something about this from a chatty, adoring nurse.

  “And now for the qualifier, Weeb.”

  “You know me too well. There’s also an underlying suspicion that you’re a fraud, part of a larger strategy by the seamasters to tighten control over the market. A few outliers question the timing. Some even say the attacks were an inside job.”

  “They were. What do they claim is the motive?”

  “Distraction. The seamasters are wiping out opposition to their plan, which is to remove existing governments and replace them with a global corporate congress.”

  The stared at each other before the smirks arrived. Ya-Li laughed at the irony.

  “That’s exactly what the seamasters wanted to establish three centuries ago. Chancellors killed it. They feared a centralized power would be difficult to control. These days, the flatulent cudfruckers running these corporations have no interest in government. Too much work. They’d have to be responsible to the people. Imagine that.”

  “Imagine indeed,” Weeb continued. “Every issue brings its share of loonies to the Wave, and nobody takes the fringe seriously. But I worry when I see their suspicion pointed to you. You’ve been at the center of everything lately. There are many loose threads dangling about. If the wrong people set their noses on the right track, the investigations might shift our way.”

  “It was always the greatest danger,” Ya-Li said. “It’s why I had to get the Talons and Green Sun off world as quickly as possible. It’s why I had to take a flash peg in the chest. There are few left standing who can oppose me in a meaningful way. When a man rises so quickly to the expense of other lives, questions follow. What are you hearing inside the KumTaan?”

  “They’re pursuing this as an assault against the seamasters. Only five of twenty-three hits were Taron or Syung, so they see this as a broader campaign beyond the wedding massacre. The victims were spread over four islands, and few had any known associations with each other. It was like you predicted: The KumTaan believes March Forward is funded by continental insurgencies.”

  “Hmm. March Forward is an interesting name. Why did you choose it, Weeb?”

  “I was tired, manipulating backchannel boards. Seemed good at the time.”

  “Oh, it is. I suppose most KumTaan believe it’s really just Green Sun rebranding itself?”

  “Yes, but their intel network is so sloppy, they can’t be sure. It’s like a squirrel crossing paths with a dog. The chase will be intense for a while, but the dog will grow tired when he realizes he can’t catch the squirrel. Then he’ll forget all about it and start sniffing for something new.”

  Ya-Li loved how Weeb anticipated Hokki behavior and planned for every contingency.

  “They’ll chase their tails. No, if anyone makes a connection between the victims, it will come from inside the Alliance, but they’ll be too frightened to talk. What are the chances KumTaan will capture the assassins?”

  “Near zero. Eleven of the thirteen are no more. The boat carrying six to Puratoon disappeared five hundred kay from the continent. A fuel explosion. It was quick. The other five were taken down quietly in safehouses. I have the visual confirmation. The last two we’re tracking. They’ll be dead before midnight.”

  “Very efficient. I thought cleanup would take twice as long.”

  “So did I. It’s one thing to kill people on schedule. It’s something else to kill the killers on schedule.” Weeb shrugged. “Keeps me on my toes. You’re not expecting a third round of this, are you?”

  “No. We’ve been on the offensive long enough. Everything is in place for a non-violent path to victory. If anyone else dies, it’s because they’ve backed us against a wall. So, you said something earlier about Huryo? I haven’t heard anything since we saw the satellite image with RJ, Ham Cortez, and Lan Chua. How is the search coming?”

  Weeb removed his pink-tinted glasses and rubbed his eyes.

  “A lot of noise. Confused messages. Rumors. Things don’t work the same on Huryo. Most of those people live off the land like they did five hundred years ago. I sent a man on the intersystem ferry two days ago, but he’s still in the capital trying to arrange travel to the outer swamps. He knows the moon about as well as we do.”

  “What about RJ? He’s Earth born, so he’ll stand out, whether he’s bald or not. Have there been no leads?”

  “Nothing. If he’s there, he’s under tight protection.”

  “But why? What is on Huryo he’d want?”

  “I was hoping you might have ideas, Ya-Li. You allowed his crew to take off on a hopeless chase to find a ghost.”

  “Yes, I know. I should have planted a loyalist onboard, but events were chaotic that day. I assumed they’d be out of my way for months, more than enough time to finish the work here. When things settle and I’m back to full strength, I’ll contact Shin Wain. He’ll know how to help. For now, we’ll have to hope RJ remains in the shadows. Any other sobering news?”

  “Not news.” Weeb grabbed his tablet and scrolled through the screen. “I need your approval before I release this to the Global Wave.”

  Ya-Li studied a vid which took place in a familiar location – the gardens outside the entrance to Nantou Global.

  “This comes from a security drone,” Weeb said. “Watch closely, starting from the lower right.”

  A luxury sedan arrived and settled in street side. It hovered for a moment then ignited its Carbedyne nacelles and flew away. Ya-Li recognized the man on the sidewalk.

  “Dae Syung. Is this …?”

  Weeb nodded. “Yes.”

  Dae started for the entry gardens.

  “Watch from the left side.”

  A rifter appeared, two men in black onboard. It happened in seconds: They fired a dozen blasts from laser pistols. Dae twisted and danced then fell in a heap. The rifter left the frame. The few witnesses in the vicinity approached the body hesitantly. Weeb stopped playback.

  “I read the reports,” Ya-Li said. “I know what happened. Why am I seeing this?”

  “It’s the only vid, and we have it. I hacked it out of the Nantou security matrix before the KumTaan claimed it. Do you want me to leak this to the Wave like the others?”

  “At this point, what purpose will it serve?”

  “More terror. More distraction.”

  A week ago, Dae and his mother Li-Ann came to Hotai and agreed to sell their stakes in Nantou Global. Ya-Li got what he wanted, but not without suspicion and accusation.

  “I didn’t want to kill Dae. The Syungs already lost so much, but he was a threat.”

  “Perhaps more than you think, Ya-Li. I hacked his logs. He was headed for a meeting with Fo Jaal, the acting president. Maybe I’m paranoid, but I think he suspected your plan for Nantou and was going to give Fo the old heads-up.”

  “You’re not paranoid, Weeb. Dae lost his father, brother, and wife. He had nothing left to lose. Destroy the vid.”

  Park ended a long silence.

  “What about his mother, Li-Ann? Is she a threat?”

  Ya-Li frowned. “No. She’s half-crazy, and it’s understandable. She’ll live like a hermit or kill herself. I think before long, the House of Syung-Low will be the House of Low. Good for your clan, Weeb. No more second tier to the Syungs.”

  “Eh. That’s for Mother and Father to enjoy. I couldn’t care less.”

  “There you go. That’s my Weeb.”

  Weeb tossed back another shot of plum saak.

  “That’s all for my sit-rep. Looks like we have two hours until we meet the dragons. Any chance the kitchen could scare up some lunch? I missed breakfast.”

  Park laughed. “You always miss breakfast.”

  “Food and sleep. If I could go without both, I’d get more done. My counterparts keep saying I’ll fry my brain if I don’t slow down.”

  “They’re right,” Ya-Li said. “You do incredible work. But a man who spins too many plates at once will break something. I need you at your best. I’ll call down to Chef Marr. He’ll have a fine spread for us in ten minutes, give or take.”

  Ya-Li understood the staggering burden he placed on Weeb and Park, but at least Park could defer to his father for many tasks and his wife and child for comfort. Weeb operated in a mad world even Ya-Li barely understood.

  He constructed his network of contacts among hackers, the shadow Wave, arms dealers, and assassins over many years. He was conversant in the digital language of the most nefarious Hokkis when he was still a boy. He played middleman to mahali distributors and facilitated contract kills before he graduated Upper School. He worked with smugglers to import immos to Pinchon and sold the information to Green Sun, who in turn killed many of those immos. He raked in Dims from across the underworld, yet no one knew his face.

  Weeb loved the sport, but it stretched him. He smoked non-stop, took stimulants to ward off the drowsies, and likely was hooked on something else. He never explained the rift that caused him to leave his family estate years ago, but Ya-Li suspected it was over mahali.

  I’ll look after you, Ya-Li thought. You’ll be at my side when we change Hokkaido forever. You on one side. Park on the other.

  Victory seemed so close. Nine days to Ascension. All they had to do was hold it together in the meantime.

  First up, an early lunch, followed by a visit from the doctor.

  And then, in two hours, they’d face the men who likely wished the threesome dead.

  “The dragons,” Weeb said.

  Everyone else called them the seamasters.

  21

  S EAMASTERS NEVER MET BEHIND closed doors. The superstition was born from a legendary gathering in Century 6 PC (Post-Colonization) in which three corporate presidents died after meeting with a fourth who unwittingly carried a highly contagious virus. Though some accounts suggested the men were poisoned by a vengeful underling, the outcome remained the same. Best to keep a healthy distance.

  Technology enabled the superstition. Today, Ya-Li would meet them in his great grandfather’s study, which he thought provided a commanding backdrop.

  Ya-Li settled into Ban-Ho’s most beloved and kingly chair, flanked by Weeb and Park. He talked Weeb out of smoking.

  “Men like these consider the pipe to be an insult in a business context,” he said. “They’re hypocrites, of course, but we should indulge them. After they begin hurling insults, all is fair.”

  Weeb put away his pipe and straightened his all-white suit.

  “Cudfrucking dragons.”

  “On a good day.”

  A plate erupted into five holowindows, each broadcasting from the office of a seamaster. Nantou’s Director of Communication, who arranged the meeting, spoke over darkened windows.

  “Good afternoon, everyone. I see we have verified contact. I will now open the windows and begin the proper introductions.”

  There they were. Old men, stern and gray. Emperors in their own minds, their suits matching and their jaws tight and unflinching. Dressed, shaved, and styled by a personal staff. Ya-Li had occasion to meet each one at a social affair, always trotted forth by his parents to provide the obligatory nod and honorific. They seemed as unimpressed then as they were now. Each sat alone, which must have made Hotai’s threesome all the more galling.

  “To begin,” the Director of Communication said, “may I introduce the President of Nantou Global, the Honorable Fo Jaal.”

  A solicitor thrown into the chair because of chaos, Ya-Li thought. He won’t last long.

  “Next, I have the pleasure to introduce the President of Fortuna Seas, the Honorable Ren-Lo Shang.”

  Fat and lazy. Never had the courage to expand his market share. Just wants to be a member of the club.

  “Now I will introduce the President of Lagos Consolidated, the Honorable Perr-Len Sheung.”