SWITCHBLADE (Choi Ziyi Book 1) Read online

  What Wing liked most about her was, unlike Rui, she remained unspoiled by the world she had been placed in. Wing hoped that would never change.

  "Wing!" Bao Yu's voice shook him from his thoughts. "Watch her on your own time, not the Empire's."

  "I'm doing my job. She's my agent," he protested but switched the feed off none the less. He fought the embarrassment and hoped it didn't show on his cheeks.

  "The airport checked out clean," said Song. "I'm running my own checks on all arrivals into Hong Kong over the last six months. Don't trust the green shirts to do their job properly."

  "The first thing I told you was 'never rely on the police'. All they're good for are parking tickets and littering fines." They were better than that if Wing was honest with himself, but in a city of fifty-eight million they were simply overwhelmed by the population. Even ignoring the Zeros as a no-go zone, the police were always on the back foot.

  Bao Yu tapped nervously on her keyboard. "Xiao's schedule is still clear over the next week. We've got him on lock down in the Residence until the ball at the Imperial Chinese Bank Building on the eighteenth."

  Wing glanced over his shoulder at her. "Can't we cancel that until we sort this mess out?"

  "He's hosting a fundraising dinner for further exploration of the Outer Colonies. The Arabs spend twice as much as we are and the Empire can't afford to lose more ground in the space race. Cancelling is not an option," replied Bao Yu.

  "Shit," said Wing.

  "Our shit. And we better make sure it's cleared up fast."

  "Okay people," interjected Song. "I've got six possibles from face recognition." The headshots appeared across all their monitors. Five men. One woman.

  Wing didn't like the look of any of them but he didn't like gweilos on the whole.

  "The first two I'm certain are AFA. James Conway and Neil Cowie. The third is almost certainly Brendan Murray, wanted for a bombing in Guangzhou in ‘23," continued Song. "The other four I'm not quite so sure about. Their faces don't match any known terrorists but I ran a diagnostic over Anderson's retina scan and noticed a small anomaly that is also present in the scans of all six suspects."

  "Put a trace on their new retinas," ordered Bao Yu. "If spotted, they are not to be challenged — surveillance only. We may only get one chance at stopping them. Let's pray we get lucky."

  Silence filled the Pod as they stared at the faces of their enemies. A cold knot of fear twisted in Wing's stomach. Six terrorists active in Hong Kong. Just one of them had already come close to killing Xiao and the Lan Kwai Fong attack was only the start.

  Six terrorists. And maybe a lot more.

  3

  Ziyi

  Ziyi sat cross-legged in front of the window with her eyes closed in the warrior pose. The backs of her hands rested against her knees, and her thumb and forefinger touched. She counted as she breathed in for five seconds, held the breath for the same, and then exhaled for five seconds. Nothing else filled her thoughts. She felt the air fill her lungs and feed her blood. Breathing was the most basic function that mek could never replace. Until that time, she was still human.

  Thoughts about the attack crept into her mind, but she pushed them away just as quickly as they appeared. Nothing mattered. The sunlight warmed her skin and she allowed its strength to join hers, as she sought peace and harmony.

  However at the edges of her mind, she could hear the cries of the dead demanding justice. Each time she pushed them away, they came back louder and stronger. Her heart quickened so Ziyi deepened her breathing to fight it. She chased the emptiness until she realised how like death it was — and found shame instead. The assassin had died — yes. He'd deserved it. But the many families she'd killed with her grenade had all been innocent. Sacrificed for the Empire perhaps but blood on her hands all the same. She shook the thought from her head — she'd done her duty. She only hoped their ghosts would forgive her.

  After half an hour, she abandoned any attempt to meditate, and keeping her eyes shut, she slowly stood up and her feet slid into the beginnings of a tai chi movement. Both her arms floated up, and then sank down with the rest of her body. She eased from one movement to the next, moving gracefully from Parting The Wild Horse Mane to The White Crane Spreading Its Wings. She kept her mind empty as she controlled her breathing, and allowed her body to take her through the exercises without thinking. She'd been taught them first at the age of seven, and her form was perfect. Her teacher, her shifu, would be proud but he would've expected no less. Not from his best pupil.

  She turned her left palm back, as she shifted into the High Pat On Horse, before flowing into Wave Hands As Clouds. She could detect no ill effects from the gunshot wound or the subsequent surgery. Her body was as it should be.

  Clapping from the doorway interrupted her when she was only halfway through the routine. She slipped back into the starting position before opening her eyes.

  Rui stood watching her. "Bravo, little sister, bravo. A delight to watch." The light caught the scar across his left cheek giving him a strange grin — a memento of a hooker in Manila who turned out to be a hired assassin. It disturbed Ziyi that he hadn't had the scar removed.

  He picked up a towel and held it out for her.

  "Thank you, brother." Ziyi took it and wiped the sweat from her face. "Why aren't you with Xiao?" Rui was the officer on duty and shouldn't have been far from the heir's side.

  "He's safe enough without me for a while. And do I need a reason to visit?" Rui held out his hands in mock innocence but Ziyi said nothing. They stared at each other for one, two, three heartbeats before Rui broke out another smile. "Always so serious, little sister. Xiao wants you to join him in half an hour. The First Minister is on his way."

  "Deng Wa Ping is coming here?"

  "Yes, and Xiao wants both of us to hear what he has to say. He has an update on the attack."

  "Thank you for letting me know," she replied with a curt bow.

  "Any time, little sister," replied Rui.

  She went to walk past him, but he stopped her.

  "How does it feel, little sister? To finally see some action?" He leaned in closer. "To kill?" The words were a whisper, but Ziyi could feel the excitement behind them.

  She pulled free of his grip and stepped back. She'd show no weakness. "I did my duty."

  "Of course, little sister. I'd expect no less from you," said Rui, with a bow.

  She left him with a slight nod. As she walked through to her private quarters, she could feel his eyes watching her. As ever, Rui made her feel uncomfortable. They had such very different ideas of duty. For Rui, everything was a game, and one he enjoyed playing.

  The doors closed behind her, and Ziyi relaxed out of his sight. The living room was Spartan compared to every other part of the Imperial Residency, but it was the way Ziyi liked it. Privacy was such a rare luxury. As a child, she'd always been surrounded by her family, then at the academy by thousands of students. As Xiao's bodyguard, she had no private life of her own except in her room. She couldn't date anyone or go for a walk with a friend or visit the shops without causing a major commotion. It was the price she had to pay to serve the Empire, but she often wondered what her life would've been like if she hadn't been selected to serve, or if she had failed in her training.

  A few plants loitered in corners, only alive because someone else watered them. She walked past the large sofa wondering when was the last time she'd sat on it. She ignored the television, having no interest in seeing herself on every channel. Instead she turned on some music, a classical piece by the Emperor's favourite composer, Aw Soon. It was a mournful piece called A Swallow's Dream, written after the end of the Hundred Year War with Russia, honouring the Empire's fallen. No official numbers existed but rumours claimed over a billion Chinese lives had been lost in battle over the long hard years. It was a perfect accompaniment for the way she felt.

  In the kitchen, she opened a bottle of water and drank it straight down as the notes filled the apartment. A f
resh piece of cod and some bak choi waited for her in the fridge for lunch, but Xiao's meeting meant it would have to wait for her a while longer. She just hoped nothing would get in the way of dinner by herself. She needed a night off. Her role as Xiao's consort was exhausting. Not physically as most of her body had been replaced with the most cutting edge mek — she was stronger and faster than any normal human and almost invulnerable from bullet or knife. It was the mental strain that wore her down — of being constantly on her guard and pretending to be someone she wasn't. Only in her rooms could she be herself — her true self, and she didn't know if she was strong enough to continue to do what was demanded of her.

  "Wing?" Saying his name immediately connected her phone imbedded in her ear.

  "Ziyi. How you doing?" Wing’s voice sounded tired despite his attempt to be casual.

  "I want to see the casualties from the attack. Can you play them on my main screen."

  "Why do you want to do that? It's not going to help them. Or you."

  Ziyi shook her head. He was tried to look after her. "Please. I want to see them."

  "Your call." Her screen flicked to life and the face of a middle-aged woman appeared on it. "Josephine Ren waited ten hours in place for you to arrive. She was killed instantly when the bomb..."

  "Wing." Ziyi closed her eyes. "Just the people I killed."

  The face changed. Another woman, younger, eyes full of hope. "Kelly Yang. A first year solicitor, working late in the office above the assassin's location. Killed instantly." A man's face replaced hers. "Lei Shi. Solicitor. Thirty-eight years old."

  Ziyi watched the faces change as she listened to their names and bios, imprinting them on her memory. She allowed the tears to fall, safe in her room, away from prying eyes. Thirty-eight dead by her hand.

  "Ziyi? You ok?"

  She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, tried to smile. "Sure. All good. You can turn the information off now."

  The images disappeared from the screen, leaving her reflection on the dark screen. She stared at it, unable to recognise who she was.

  She walked over to the portrait of the Emperor that hung in an alcove near her bedroom. Similar portraits graced every home in the Empire. Ziyi's showed Dao Yu as he was now, his wisdom shining in his eyes. He was the father of all, and her love for him knew no bounds. At least she'd not failed him. She bowed three times, as honour dictated, pressing her forehead against the floor each time. Once completed, she recited the oath of allegiance, as she had done every day of her life for as long as she could remember.

  "By Heaven's will,

  I swear to serve you in this life and the next.

  I am your shield and I am your sword.

  I am your heart and your soul.

  I am your life and your death.

  All that I am and ever will be, I give to you, my Emperor,

  Above all else, for the Empire."

  The words had been meaningless to her when she was a child, part of a daily ritual enforced by her father. Once she'd joined the academy, they gained substance. Six thousand voices would ring out in unison, full of passion and pride, reminding them all of their duty and the honour it bestowed. Now the words were entwined with her soul, as vital to her as breathing. Her oath was everything, part of her DNA, and she'd now sealed the commitment with blood.

  She bowed once more before standing up, feeling better. The lives hadn’t been lost for nothing — but for the Emperor and the Empire.

  She made a protein shake in the kitchen, throwing in a banana and some mixed berries. As the blender whirled, she gazed out of the window across Hong Kong. Sunlight kissed the starscrapers, shining like diamonds against the blue sky.

  She could see the harbour in the distance, choked up with ships and freight tankers from one end to the next. It amazed her that people still sent things by sea, with pirates attacking everything that moved on the ocean.

  A small drone zipped towards her window, attracted by her movement and Ziyi automatically stepped back from the glass. She just had time to see the NewsCorp logo before the Residency's anti-air measures blew it from the sky. The Heavens only knew how many of those got shot down every day. Such a waste of time and money just to get another picture of her. As if the millions that were out in the world weren't enough.

  She gazed down through the spiralling highways, down into the lower levels. Despite living in Hong Kong for four years, she'd never travelled below the Hundreds, spending all that time amongst the elite that followed Xiao around like stray dogs searching for scraps, far from the real world that she knew existed. She'd love to explore every part of the city on her own anonymously, and people watch. The thought of being alone amongst so many people was intoxicating.

  She sighed. She couldn't walk out the front door without being surrounded, nor would Control allow her to even try. Perhaps she could be left to her own devices when her duty was over and Xiao took a real wife, free to wander wherever she chose.

  She switched off the blender, poured the shake and headed through to the bathroom. Dropping her gym gear on the floor, Ziyi drank a few sips before stepping into the shower. She started with the 'rain' setting, enjoying the gentle pressure of the warm water.

  She turned the water to the multi-jet, high-pressure setting and knocked the temperature down. It pounded her from every direction, cold enough so she had to hold her breath in shock. The water drove all thoughts from her mind. Only the water and the cold existed. She forced herself to breathe, once more counting to five with each inhalation and exhalation, clearing her mind. Thankfully the ghosts remained quiet as well.

  A buzzer broke the moment. Her five minutes of peace were over.

  She dried off and walked through to her bedroom with her shake. It was as simply decorated as the living room. Three of the walls were painted a cool grey and the fourth pure white, hiding the walk-in wardrobe.

  The only luxury she allowed herself were crisp, clean sheets each morning. Her younger self rarely had the opportunity to experience them.

  She changed the music before opening her wardrobe and chose something brighter to help lift her mood. Even if her life as Xiao's companion was a fantasy, her life was a gift from the Heavens. Her personal sacrifices were a small cost to pay in order to serve the Empire.

  The wardrobe was bigger than the living room in her parents' old apartment and full of outfits that cost enough to feed families for years. She understood the need — the people wanted to look up to something far greater than themselves — but she reminded herself she wasn't who the world thought she was. Ziyi was a government employee entrusted with one of the most important jobs in the Empire. The clothes were just her uniform.

  She chose a simple black dress. With five minutes before the First Minister arrived, she tied up her hair and applied minimal make up.

  As she looked in the mirror, she thought about what her life would have been if she'd not been selected for the Academy. Perhaps in another universe, she'd stayed with her family and grown up in a happy home, anonymous in her small village. Perhaps she'd be married now, with a family of her own and a comfortable government job somewhere. It'd be a good life — one free of blood. But fate had other plans for her. The Empire had called.

  She checked herself in the mirror one final time and stood up with a sigh. Time to go to work.

  The elevator climbed up four levels in a heartbeat. The doors had barely shut before they opened again on Xiao's level. The difference between her quarters and Xiao's was extreme. Ziyi smiled. No one would ever describe the decor here as simple. The room was filled with exquisite furniture and art, including many key historical pieces from all the important period's in China's past. Two sweeping marble stairs met in the centre of the room leading up the old Government Mansion but they were the only obstructions. Floor-to-ceiling windows provided a spectacular three hundred and sixty degree view of Hong Kong.

  The Minister's flyer had already settled on the western side's landing pad. Three aides waited by the sliding
doors from it. She spotted the Minister himself standing with Xiao and Rui over by the bar and headed over to join them.

  "Here she is," said Xiao as she approached. "Looking as lovely as ever."

  Even after four years of protecting Xiao, seeing him always made her catch her breath. Only the Emperor himself had more of an effect on her. She found herself often just looking at him, wondering how a small girl from the provinces could end up serving the heir to the Empire. The honour was beyond imagination. It made whatever pain and sacrifice she had undergone completely worthwhile. Her dreams of that other life disappeared at the honour she'd been given. The future of the Empire was in her hands to protect.

  Ziyi stopped before Xiao and bowed deeply. "I apologise, your Highness. I have no excuse for my tardiness. Please forgive me."

  Xiao laughed. "There is nothing to forgive. You’re right on time. I would expect nothing else from you."

  "If you say, your Highness." Ziyi straightened and bowed once more in greeting to the Minister.

  "Agent Choi," nodded the Minster in return. "Congratulations on protecting his Highness." He was a small man, no more than five foot four but there was no denying he radiated authority. Even standing near Xiao didn't seem to diminish him. His eyes were constantly appraising whom ever he met. He reminded Ziyi of a tightly wound snake waiting to pounce on any unsuspecting prey. One always had to be on alert with Deng. Even a simple conversation with him seemed like a chess game.

  "No hello for me, Little Sister?" asked Rui from behind the bar.

  "Agent Rui," replied Ziyi. She didn't bow.

  Rui poured three whiskies from a black porcelain bottle with the crest of some forgotten European country on it. Almost as an afterthought, he asked Ziyi if she would like a glass. She declined. She never drank alcohol or did anything that could prevent her from fulfilling her duties to the best of her abilities.