“Have these people left any threatening messages?” I asked. “Any clues at all?”
“No,” she said. “They’re pros. And I have no evidence other than my intuition.” She gripped her hands tighter, tight enough that the knuckles turned white. “I was almost run over twice this week.”
I leaned forward, meeting Victor’s eyes; he was still draped haphazardly in the armchair, but his jaw had tightened.
“What?” Arun exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me, Mom?”
“I didn’t want to worry you,” she replied. “The first time I thought it was just an accident . . . but then it happened again.”
Lingyi reached over for Dr. Nataraj’s hand and squeezed it. “Tell us.”
“I was returning home after shopping at the market,” Dr. Nataraj said. “It was Saturday, and the streets and sidewalks were crowded. I was waiting at a corner to cross, when someone from behind bumped hard into me, so I stumbled in front of an oncoming bus.”
Victor cursed under his breath.
“Thankfully,” Dr. Nataraj said, “the bus was moving slowly, and the driver hit his brakes. A kind woman pulled me back by my coat. Two days later, I was leaving the university late in the evening, and a car almost ran over me coming out of one of the parking lots at full speed.”
“Did you catch the license plate?” I asked. “Were you able to see the driver at all?”
Dr. Nataraj shook her head. “It was an expensive car, and the windows were tinted.”
“Iris, why don’t you start shadowing her?” I said.
Dr. Nataraj began to protest, but Arun grabbed her arm. “I think we should, Mom. For your safety.”
“The sooner we find out who’s behind this,” I said, “the better.”
“I can help, too,” Lingyi said. “If you give me permission, I can secure your accounts. I can make them impenetrable.” She gave the professor a bright smile. But Lingyi wasn’t playing around; she was one of the best in cybersecurity, just like she was one of the best to hack through it.
The professor smiled back at Lingyi. “Thank you.” Then her expression turned serious. “But I would ask more of you, if you’re willing. I’d like you to hack into these six legislators’ accounts and see if there are any clues—anything at all to tell us who we’re up against.”
“Of course,” Lingyi said without hesitation.
“It might be dangerous,” Dr. Nataraj said. “I wouldn’t ask if I saw any other way. But I’ve tried for months going through the proper channels, meeting with officials who obviously don’t want anything to do with me, and I have nothing to show for it but the unwanted attention of a possible stalker and attempts on my life.” Even though she spoke in soft tones, she still spoke with vehemence.
“They’re not playing by the rules—,” Arun said.
“So why should we?” I finished.
“Don’t worry, Auntie. We’re happy to help,” Lingyi said. “I’ll start on it right away. And, Victor, keep all your channels and contacts open for any underground info that might help us.”
“Anything for you, Auntie,” Victor replied.
Dr. Nataraj extended her arm and Victor clasped her hand in a rare show of genuine affection. Usually, anything Vic ever said was in half jest, overexaggeration, or sarcasm. But not this time. He looked ready to hunt down those who were accountable and beat the shit out of them. I was prepared to join him.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this, Mom,” Arun said. “We’ll have answers before you know it.”
? ? ?
Gray haze lay thick over Taipei. I set a brisk pace, my hands thrust into the pockets of my black denim jacket. The sleeves were too short, the cuffs hitting a few inches above my wrists, and the material so worn, it had faded to a muddy gray. But it was the only jacket I owned, and one of the last things my mom had given me. Back then, it had been too big; she had laughed when I tried it on, the cuffs almost hanging below my fingertips. My mom had bargained for a cheaper price. “You’ll grow into it,” she had said, then touched my cheek.
In the end, she never did get to see me wear this jacket. She caught a cold that turned into a virulent strain of pneumonia. We couldn’t afford the medical care or medicines that might have saved her life. And at thirteen, I watched her die.
I shivered and drew the thin denim tighter around me.
Meet me at my mom’s office, Arun had messaged me an hour ago. I’m worried about her
Arun came from a family of prominent scientists, and Dr. Nataraj had encouraged his inquisitive nature since he could pose a scientific question. At eighteen, he was getting his doctorate in virology at the university. Arun was a genius. And being as logical and pragmatic as he was, he’d never worry without reason.
I walked faster.
College students on bikes emerged like phantoms toward me through the polluted haze. I’d walked this promenade lined with palm trees many times before to meet Arun. We’d been friends ever since I met him at my favorite cybercafe four years ago; he had been getting some secret gaming in after school. The university’s grand library was at the end of the wide path, but like the palm trees, I couldn’t see it. I might as well have been marooned on some desert island—the only inhabitants, the ghostly images of students on bikes floating past me and disappearing again into the gray smog.
Like everyone else, I wore a mask over my face. But this didn’t stop my eyes from burning, feeling as if they had been rubbed with sandpaper, and each choked breath still somehow tasted of ash and dust. My throat felt raw, irritated. The air was still as a held breath. This filth was going nowhere.
I jogged through the mist toward our meeting place, in front of Dr. Nataraj’s building. Swerving at the last moment, I avoided a bike ridden by a girl wearing two long braids. She yelped in surprise, dark eyes wide above her hot pink mask, the sound sharp and out of place, then cycled on and disappeared from view. We were far enough within the large campus that the noise of Taipei’s traffic was only a low hum in the distance.
My black boots sank into the wet grass before hitting concrete, and the grand arches of the science building manifested before me; some long, rectangular windows above them were lit up like blank eyes. Arun’s bright orange spiked hair drew my gaze immediately, and I broke into a wide grin until I saw his panic-stricken face. He lunged at me and grabbed my wrist. Something was seriously wrong.
“I still haven’t been able to get in touch with my mom,” Arun said while dragging me as he ran into the building. “Since yesterday afternoon. I came home late last night from the lab and didn’t see her this morning. She always returns my messages.”