He nodded at me as I made level ground and led me through the outdoor seating area where so many had died so recently. I tore my eyes from the spotless floor and trained them on his back.
Wu wore a dark blue uniform-tunic and pants with black cuffs on the hems of each. His boat shoes and hat were also black. He resembled Shao, but not enough to make his termination a nightmare moment for me. I squinted, trying to make out the dark outline of a reaver’s shield. Nothing. But it was a bright, sunny day, the kind that seemed to hide these shields the best. Time for test number two.
“Aaah!” I pretended to stumble, grabbing at the rail with my right hand as I raised the clothes high with my left. I kept my eyes on Wu. As he spun to see what had happened, part of his face remained half a step behind. So did his hands as they reached out to help me. I stepped back so he couldn’t touch me, though I smiled. “Thank you. I’m fine. I fell over the plastic.” I pointed to the trailing bits of wrap as I watched the parts of Wu coalesce.
My head told the dread gnawing at my intestines to go chew on someone else for a while. I was pitting myself against a brand-new reaver here, not a seasoned vet like Desmond Yale. Wu’s future demise should be no problem. The dread laughed, the way a couple of high-maintenance teenaged girls will after they’ve just made fun of your hair, your earrings, your shoes, your jeans, the way you walk, the way you talk, and the fact that you blink every thirty seconds or so . . . and went right back to supper. Because I now had to assume that Wu had set his sights on my soul. I wasn’t sure how he’d been able to ID me. Maybe the reavers had a Seer working their side of the aisle. Maybe Desmond Yale had been carrying a passenger in his head when I’d fought him at Sustenance. One he’d passed to Wu’s body in the airport bathroom. Either way, it looked as if the rules that governed reaver kills allowed for payback. And Wu had suddenly discovered it was his turn. He was probably struggling not to gloat that I’d pretty much dropped in his lap. It’s the worst kind of bad luck. But it happens.
I followed Wu through the big combo room, where three more uniformed men were dusting and scrubbing as if their lives depended on the sparkle they left behind. Who knows, maybe they did. A hall led from the dining section into the cabin area I’d found on my first trip. We ignored the closed doors to either side of us and went straight to the one at the end of the hall. Wu opened it with a key he took from his pocket.
I anticipated a problem if he wanted to act the gentleman, but he headed into the room first. He did close the door, and I heard him lock it, but that was cool with me. I didn’t care for interruptions either.
“This is Pengfei Yan’s room,” said Wu.
Vayl would have loved it. And it bugged me that he and Pengfei shared similar tastes. What did it say about two people who enjoyed enormous beds lifted up on their own white marble pillars that are somehow lit from within? The bedding matched the carpet and drapes, all a creamy white with an overlay of intertwined buttery circles. White dressers with soft yellow knobs flanked the bed, over which hung another gauzy curtain of a startling scarlet red. The matching pillows had been thrown against the white upholstered wall that backed the bed like big globs of blood.
A white folding screen painted with red dragons stood in the corner opposite the door. This was where Wu told me to hang Pengfei’s dress. I kept Lung’s suits, holding them next to me as if to relieve some of the weight on my arm. “Tell me,” I asked as I peeled back a corner of the plastic sheet, “what’s your job on this boat?”
“I am just one of the crew,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back as he went to stand at the corner of the bed nearest the door.
“But, I mean, do you help cook, or clean, or—”
“Oh, I understand,” he said, smiling. “I serve the guests. We have several onboard, though most are sleeping, since they try to keep the same hours as Pengfei Yan and Chien-Lung.”
I watched him carefully as he spoke. Inside, with the curtains drawn and the door shut, I could see his shield now, follow its outline as it moved with his body. As with the first reaver I’d met, it opened mainly when he moved his head.
I could shoot him, but if I managed to squeeze a bullet behind that shield it would splatter blood and brains all over the room, not to mention make a loud boom that the rest of the crew would find curiously out of place in the peace of the late afternoon. Not too thrilled with the whole stabbing scenario either, considering the amount of blood it would produce, and the fact that I’d be charading as Pengfei and might need these digs later on. Well, those were plans B and C anyway. Given the fact that his shield seemed to weaken at the head as I’d hoped it would, Plan A might actually work.
“So, about my assignment—” I began.
“I am afraid my government could not possibly cooperate with anything you have planned, despite the fact that Lung is our mutual enemy.” Huh. Wu had completely lost the broken accent he’d used over the phone. Was he done pretending then?
I let my arm sag and winced, as if the robes were getting too heavy for me. I moved toward the bed, where I obviously intended to lay them down. “What?” I asked. “You think helping us out would make you look bad? Afraid maybe North Korea will call you a big weenie and go play with its nukes all on its own?”
Wu smiled, showing far too many teeth. I imagined if he unrolled his tongue the tip would hit his belly button. “I believe it has more to do with the fact that we think you Americans are assholes.”
I had reached the bed by now. Laying the robes down just right became a big production. One that allowed me to get much closer to Wu. As I worked myself within range I clicked my tongue at him and gave him my you’ve- been-a-bad-little-boy look. “Only narrow-minded pricks cling to stereo-types like that, Wu. For instance,
He lunged, just as I’d hoped he would. To have allowed myself a single thought in such a vulnerable position would have been the death of me. So instead I acted. I tore the clear film off of the plastic.
I spun sideways as Wu hit the bed and rammed the film, which I called my portable pillow, through the break in his shield.
It wiggled down his face like a living mask, covering his mouth, nose, and eyes so tightly I could see their outlines beneath the material.
He clawed at the material, falling off the bed in the process. I rolled him to his stomach, stuck a knee in his back, and held him there, grabbing his hand from his face and twisting it so hard he was forced to let me pull it behind him. I yanked the other back the same way, pushing them both high up his back and securing them with a
