The Lives of Tao

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

EPILOGUE



It would be amiss for me to not say a few words about Edward Blair. I met the young man at the height of the Cold War. Edward was a rare man, a treasure: raw, but confident, cocky, but with a soft heart. I had chosen well when I first met the young West Point student interning at the United States House of Representatives. In a way, he reminded me of a Zhu Yuanzhang before I failed him.

With Edward, I was determined not to make the same mistake I made in the past. I chose to put his priorities at the same level as mine. We were true partners and did great things together. That is my vision for the future. The world will never know his name, but humanity owes a debt of gratitude for the work he has done on their behalf. I would do you and Edward a disservice if you did not learn about the great man that was your predecessor.



Roen sat in his parked car along the side of a narrow road and waited, tapping the window with his finger as he turned his attention to the grassy knoll. He looked down at his watch and then looked out again. He had just returned from Italy this morning and the jet lag was killing him. However, there was much to do and little time to rest. The Penetra scanner prototype was damaged during the battle and the Prophus scientists were hard at work re-engineering it. It was now a race to see which side could utilize it first in the war, and which side could develop a counter for it.

He glanced down at the report Command had compiled on the attack at the Capulet’s Ski Lodge assault. The disturbing news about the mysterious red vats was confirmed. Scanners detected the remains of over fifty Quasing in those vats. The chemicals stored in the vats were being analyzed by multiple Prophus research divisions. Was this related to the P2 and P3 projects? What were the Genjix trying to achieve? Theories about its use ranged anywhere from a biological weapon to forced body expulsion formula to reproductive incubators. It would take time to unravel what the Genjix were up to.

He picked up his phone and called Jill’s number again. As with the rest of his calls, he only received a busy signal. It was killing him to not speak with her. Roen sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was too tired to be frustrated today. On the horizon, a row of people dressed in black were gathering on the crest of the hill next to a lone tree.

It is time.

“I know. It hurts.”

It never gets any easier.

Roen looked in the mirror, adjusted his tie, and stepped out of the car. It had rained earlier and the sun was still hidden behind the cloudy sky. Roen looked to both sides of the road and began the long trek up the hill. He walked up next to the tree and looked down at a small clearing where a larger group of people had gathered. Dylan and Stephen gave him a nod and Paula hugged him.

The four of them stood and watched as the funeral service continued in the distance. Sonya was about to be buried next to her mother. Gathered at the service were her extended family, friends, old classmates, and anyone else she had touched during her short-lived life. Anyone except the Prophus, that is.

It would have been too difficult to explain, Tao had said. It is Quasing tradition to stay in the shadows and grieve on our own.

While it hurt Roen to not be down there to properly pay his last respects, he understood. He had never thought of Sonya’s life outside of the Prophus. Now, he realized that there was much more to her than that. She had a life like everyone else. He wished that he had gotten to know that side of her better. The four of them waited until the service was over and the mourners, one by one, had paid their final respects. Roen’s eyes welled up with tears when they lowered the casket into the ground. The last ones to leave were her grandparents and her aunt’s family. They stayed until the last shovelful of dirt was patted down over Sonya’s grave.

The sun had almost set by the time the last of them left. Stephen, Dylan, Paula, and Roen walked down the hill to Sonya’s gravestone and stood around the burial plot. Roen stared at the simple markings on the headpiece. Lyte. That was her last name. Sonya Lyte. Roen hadn’t even known that.

He pulled out a single red rose from his coat and placed it with the other flowers. He closed his eyes and murmured a prayer as tears streamed down his face. The others turned to leave. Stephen put one hand on his shoulder and told him to take care. Paula hugged him again and told him to get some rest. And then he was alone.

The sun had long since set and the crickets chirping reverberated in the empty night. Roen sat on the ground, with his back to the tombstone, and looked up at the sky as the moon poked out behind the clouds, bathing the plot with a soft white glow. He looked at Dania’s plot, and then back at Sonya’s. The Prophus giveth, and the Prophus taketh away. When would his time be up?

“Hello, stranger,” a voice spoke from behind him.

Roen looked up with a start, his eyes filling with tears when he saw Jill walking up. He hadn’t seen her since that night in Italy. The Prophus had whisked her to a hospital in Rome and then sent her back to the States in a private transport. Roen had to stay with the Prophus for a week in Italy to analyze the data they found at the base. There was a treasure trove of information there.

Later on, he received word that Jill had suffered a concussion, a broken arm, and several broken ribs from the ordeal. He had been unable to reach her ever since.

“Hey you.” Roen gave her a fierce hug. He held her tightly and felt the brace around her chest. He pulled back and studied her beautiful face. Jill also had a fading bruise on her cheek and her hair was cut short. It killed Roen to know that her injuries were because of him. Wiping the tears from his face, he studied her delicate features and promised himself to never let her go. He brushed his fingers along her chin and kissed her gently on the lips.

“I see the doctor let you out and about.”

“I can’t spare the vacation days,” she replied solemnly with a small smile. “Your people told me you were here and gave me permission to come.” Jill melted into his arms again and they stood there together for several moments. He felt her beating heart and the heat from her body. Roen hoped this moment would never end. He knew right there he could never live a full life if she wasn’t by his side.

Roen kissed her again, inhaling her scent deep into him. “Gave you permission?”

She nodded. “I have a lot of new rules I’m supposed to follow now.”

“I was so worried about you. I tried to call you for days, but the Prophus had already changed your information. How are you dealing with everything?”

Jill bit her lip thoughtfully. “I’m not sure yet. This is so new and strange. Did you have one of these Prophus with you the entire time we were dating?”

Roen nodded. “Tao gave me the courage to ask you out. How is Baji?”

Jill held his hand and looked down at Sonya’s gravestone. “Baji seems nice enough. To be honest, she’s in worse shape than I am.” She pulled out a white rose and put it on Sonya’s gravestone and murmured a small prayer. “Baji loves you, Sonya, more than you can ever know.” She turned to Roen. “This is so much to take in. How did you make sense of any of this?”

“It took me a long time,” Roen said. “But my Prophus helped me learn who I was, and what kind of man I should be. I believe they’re here to help us. Trust them and learn from them.”

Jill hesitated. “I think I need to take some time away from you to sort things out. Baji and I need to get acquainted. Is that OK? Will you still be here when I come back?”

“I’ll always wait for you,” Roen replied, a lump in his throat. “However long it takes.” Inside, his heart broke. Just when he had gotten Jill back, he lost her again. It was more than he could bear. If she needed as much time as he did with Tao, when would he see her again? Would he ever see her again? His relationship with Jill just became another casualty of the war. It was the right thing for Jill to do though, and because he loved her, he accepted it.

She squeezed his hand and gave him a long, deep kiss. “I love you, Roen.” Then she turned and began to walk away.

“I love you.” He watched her walk up the hill. The thought of Baji telling Jill what she thought of him suddenly made him very uncomfortable. “Wait, Jill,” he said, quickly following her. “Whatever Baji says about me...”

She turned and, with her trademark bright smile, said, “Oh, Roen, if you could only read my mind.”



Devin Watson crumpled the report in his hands and threw it against the wall. How could this happen? The entire operation was an unmitigated disaster. The Capulet’s Ski Lodge fiasco had crippled their entire European operation. Already, several of their troops had been captured in a wide net thrown by the Prophus from the intelligence gathered at the base. Three factories, two stockpiles, and multiple safe houses had already been compromised. The Prophus had also taken control of two satellites! Devin looked for something else to throw.

He pounded his fist on the fine Brazilian cherry desk and stared at the crumpled paper on the floor. With a sigh, he walked to the other side of his office and picked it up. He couldn’t stand messes. His left leg ached again today, forcing him to walk with a noticeable limp. Rain must be coming. Walking back to his desk, he lit a cigar and puffed earnestly, staring out the window at the Potomac. It rained far too much this time of the year.

The Genjix hadn’t experienced such a defeat since the American Revolution. It would take decades to recover from this. With the scanner prototype stolen, the advantage that the Genjix had was effectively nullified. And now, with their discovery of the vats, the P2 ProGenesis project had been exposed prematurely.

Curse those Prophus. Damn that Chiyva! It was unlike him to be so sloppy. But then, after reading the report, Devin could hardly blame him for any of his mistakes. In most cases, he would have done the same thing.

Both Chiyva and Jeo were gone, probably captured and most likely sent to the Eternal Sea. It seemed all of them had underestimated the resolve of their wayward brethren. Well, it was one mistake that Devin wouldn’t make.

Devin. That is enough. There is no more use in thinking of the past.

“My apologies, Holy One.”

Zoras was right, as always. Devin was fortunate to have such a wise Holy One. Though he was furious with the failures, Zoras was able to see past the issue – and focus on the tasks ahead – and not allow the sins of the past to cloud his judgment. What’s done is done, Devin thought. They must now plan for the future.

There is much work to do. We need to rebuild and reorganize. I will not tolerate these temporary setbacks. Suspend all major operations in Europe until we have assessed the damage. Reroute our resources to China.

“I shall call a meeting of the Council and re-prioritize immediately.”

See to it. The Prophus conceded much during the last Accords. We should take advantage of their concessions in India.

“As you wish, Zoras.”

Resources would have to be moved out of the European Union to China through back channels. Zoras was wise to see that the lost base in Italy was only a minor setback. After all, the Genjix had an eternity. Devin put out the cigar and pushed a button under his desk. A hidden door slid open and a tall dark-haired man walked in, impossibly beautiful, with chiseled features.

“Yes, Father,” the man said.

“Enzo, prepare the plane. I want to be in China by tomorrow morning, to personally oversee the continuation of the ProGenesis at the new facility. See to it. I’m not leaving anything to chance.”

Enzo bowed and left.

Then Devin called his secretary in. He wrote several names down on a list and handed it to her. “I have an unexpected trip to take. Clear my schedule for the next two weeks. However, I need to meet with the cabinet in the next twenty minutes. I don’t care what time it is. Tell them to drop whatever they’re doing. We have a world to rule.”

She read over the list and nodded. “Yes, Senator, will that be all?”





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I couldn’t have gotten this far without a small army of people (robots?) believing in me. If I miss you during my shout-outs, beers on me. Here goes…

First of all, thanks to the blurbers who liked The Lives of Tao enough to put their stamp of approval on it. You guys have paved the way for newbies like me. I won’t forget to pay it forward.

To Russell Galen, my agent who helped got this deal done. Your guidance has been invaluable and your faith in my potential humbles me.

To Amanda Rutter, the editor of Strange Chemistry, who discovered me in the Great Angry Robot Open Submission of 2011. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. To my editor, Lee Harris, who smoothed the rough edges until the story shined, it’s been so nice, let’s do it twice (or thrice). And thanks to Marc Gascoigne, Darren Turpin, Michael Underwood, John Tintera, and all the other fantastic people in the robot army, let’s go assimilate someone!

To my fellow Anxious Appliances, who climbed Mount Midoriyama alongside me, you’ve shown that writing can be a team sport. A very special thanks to my best literary friend Laura Lam, who laughed, cried, and shared angst with me every step of the way.

To my beta readers: Amber Kuo, Tiffany Moy-Kang, Michael Huchel, Rob Haines, Peter Friedrichsen, and all the others whose invaluable feedback helped shape the book. You guys kept me steering straight.

To my grandparents A-gong, A-ma, Nay-nay, you’re in my youngest and fondest memories, which I’ll cherish until the end of my days. To my parents, Mike and Yukie Chu, thanks for raising me right and letting me be wrong.

To Eva the Airedale Terrier, for dragging me out of my writing cave to see the sun once in a while.

And finally, to the love of my life, Paula, whose steadfast love and support (and editing and more editing) made this dream a reality. You deserve your name on the cover of this book as much as I do.

Tao is now insisting that I thank him as well. So thank you, Tao, for yammering in my brain all those years, demanding I tell your story. There, you happy?



Wesley Chu, Chicago, February 2013





ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Wesley Chu was born in Taiwan and immigrated to Chicago, Illinois when he was just a pup. It was there he became a Kung Fu master and gymnast. Wesley is an avid gamer and a contributing writer for the magazine Famous Monsters of Filmland. A former stunt man and a member of the SAG, he can also be seen in film and television playing roles such as “Banzai Chef” in Fred Claus and putting out Oscar worthy performances as a bank teller in Chicago Blackhawks commercials. Besides working as an Associate Vice President at a bank, he spends his time writing and hanging out with his wife Paula Kim and their Airedale Terrier, Eva.

chuforthought.com