Jade War

CHAPTER 4 Dead Ends

"Well, that is very bad fucking news,” said Maik Kehn.

The manager of the Heaven Awaiting Cemetery lost the color in his face. His throat bobbed in a fearful swallow. “Maik-jen, we will, of course, arrange for reburial in a steel casket. The remains appear undisturbed; only the—”

“They weren’t after the body,” Maik grumbled. “They got what they wanted.” It was not the murdered groundskeeper that had raised suspicions, but the black garbage bag found near him, containing two heavily soiled cemetery staff uniform shirts and hats. That had motivated an examination of the last grave the groundskeeper had dug—Kaul Seningtun’s—and led to the discovery of the loosely repacked dirt wall and Kaul Lan’s damaged casket behind it.

“Double the number of guards you have,” Maik told the manager, “and tell no one of this. Understand?” The man nodded vigorously. The Horn felt no need to threaten him further; the cemetery would certainly not want word to get out that it had been infiltrated by grave robbers on account of a bribed staff member. Already the manager was tugging anxiously on his earlobe, perhaps to ward off bad luck, perhaps contemplating cutting off the ear entirely and sending it to Kaul Hilo to forestall the Pillar’s reaction. Kehn made a mental note to himself to increase the clan’s own security in Widow’s Park. Then he made two phone calls.

The first was to his girlfriend to let her know that he couldn’t see her today, as he would be occupied with clan business. Lina took the news with aplomb. She was a kind and practical woman, beautiful in a simple way, robust and curvy in just the way Kehn liked, and most importantly, she was not a Green Bone. Being the Horn of No Peak consumed most of Kehn’s waking hours; he didn’t need jade in his bedroom as well. He’d seen how Tar’s relationships flamed out. Kehn had met his girlfriend through his sister, Wen. Lina was a teacher at Janloon City College and came from a large family; she had her own life and career and friends, and little nieces and nephews to keep her busy, so she wouldn’t be overly resentful that the Horn’s first priority was always the clan.

“Will you still be able to come to my grandma’s eightieth birthday party on Fifthday?” Lina asked him over the phone. “My parents would be delighted if the Horn made an appearance.”

Sometimes it amused Kehn that people now invited him to all sorts of events and considered his presence a sign of clan favor and prestige. As a child, he’d rarely been invited to anything, as no one wished to associate with the disreputable Maik name. The Maik family’s rise was something of a fairy tale within No Peak, spawning admiration and jealousy and an increasing number of social obligations. “Maybe,” he said noncommittally.

Kehn’s second call was to his brother.

Tar swore long and vociferously and then said, “We’d better tell him together.”

Kehn agreed; he was already thinking about how best to break the bad news to his boss. Hilo-jen expected to be told important things right away, but he also didn’t like to be informed of problems without hearing what was being done to solve them. Otherwise, he might step in and handle it himself. Although Kehn appreciated the Pillar’s continued involvement in the military side of the clan, it would be impossible to command as Horn if his own Fists kept going straight to Hilo-jen the way they used to. Over the past year, Kehn had begun making more of an effort, where possible, to keep the Pillar from the Horn’s job.

So later that afternoon, he started the conversation off on a positive note. “I finished assigning the new Fingers we got out of the Academy this year,” Kehn said. “Put most of them in the Docks and the Armpit, where the Mountain’s more likely to try something. Also Junko and the Forge, where we’re seeing trouble with smuggling and shine dealing. Handed out promotions too—about half of the big Academy class we took in last year went up to third or second rank.”

Hilo nodded and asked for details, but didn’t crack a smile. The Pillar had been morose ever since Kaul Sen’s funeral. Perhaps the old man’s passing bothered him more than he let on. Or maybe Kehn’s mention of the Academy graduates reminded the Pillar of his kid cousin Anden, whom he’d had to send away.

After they’d discussed business a while longer, Kehn and Tar shared a glance. Tar motioned for the waiter to refill their water glasses. Hilo ate the last crispy squid ball on the plate, then looked impatiently between the Maik brothers. “Stop acting like nervous schoolgirls and get around to it, then. What haven’t you told me?”

Kehn explained that the Kaul family gravesite had been robbed. He could usually keep calm and say things matter-of-factly even in bad situations, so it was better that he did the talking instead of Tar, even if the matter would likely fall to his brother to deal with in the end. As Kehn spoke, Hilo grew unnervingly still and quiet. The three of them were in a private booth in the Twice Lucky restaurant during the middle of a Firstday afternoon, so there was no one around to overhear, but Kehn could not help casting a glance around, in case there were other Green Bones in the dining room who might Perceive the Pillar’s jade aura flaring like a grease fire.

“I’ve posted people around Widow’s Park,” Kehn said. “We’re talking to anyone who knew the dead groundskeeper and getting the word out to our informers—not giving them details, but we’ll have them watching. Maybe someone in the Mountain is trying to lay claim to Lan-jen’s jade.”

“I can’t believe it was the Mountain,” Tar put in. “What kind of Green Bone would stoop so low? Or be so shoddy as to leave a body and discarded disguises almost in plain sight?” He palmed a few of the roasted nuts from the dish in the center of the table. “If the Mountain wants to start something with us again, there are a thousand other ways for them to do it. Ayt’s a cunning bitch, and who knows about Nau, but they wouldn’t touch a dead man’s jade.”

The Pillar still hadn’t uttered a word or moved. Kehn said, “Whoever the thieves are, if they try to move that amount of jade on the black market, we’ll know about it.”

Hilo spoke at last. His voice was chillingly soft at first. “The only people who knew that Lan was buried with his green have the names of Kaul or Maik. Except for the dogfucking piece of shit who ambushed and killed him. Some hired goon, some nobody.” The Pillar’s voice rose to a shout and his hand came down hard on the table, making the plates jump. His aura churned so violently that both of the Maik brothers had to resist the urge to edge back from the table. “We thought he was long gone from the city or that the Mountain already killed him, but he’s still alive. And he has Lan’s jade.”

The Maiks were silent. Tar would not look the Pillar in the eye. A year ago, Hilo had tasked the Pillarman with locating the remaining owner of the machine gun left at the scene of Lan’s murder. Tar had accomplished nearly all the other things Hilo had set him to, mercilessly rooting out dozens of the Mountain’s informers and jade-wearing criminals from No Peak’s territories—but that particular bit of clan justice remained undelivered.

“The Mountain may not have been behind this.” Hilo pinned his brothers-in-law with his stare. “But they sent assassins after Lan and someone in that clan knows who the thief is. It doesn’t matter who you have to go through—find the fucker. And tell me once you do.”

Maik Tar rededicated himself to the task the Pillar had given him. There had been two Fullerton machine guns and the body of one teenager discovered at the pier on the night of Lan’s murder. Some months ago, after considerable legwork, Tar had identified the dead young man as a member of a robbery ring based in the Docks and run by a Mountain informer named Mudt Jindonon. There was a good chance the surviving assassin had been part of that same gang. The problem was that Mudt Jin was dead; Tar had already killed him last year.

Someone in the Mountain, however, had provided Mudt Jin with jade, shine, and the information that had enabled him to run his criminal enterprise in No Peak territory. Before he’d died, Mudt had given up a description of an unnamed Green Bone. It might have been any one of several men who’d answered to Gont Asch, none of whom Tar could get to easily now, but given Hilo-jen’s renewed insistence, he picked up the trail once more. Hilo had assigned him two more men, so he had four Fingers who reported to him directly, and through his brother, he could call upon No Peak’s wider network of spies as well. All of these he brought to bear on his goal.

Initially, Tar had been skeptical about being removed from the Horn’s side of the clan, but now he was pleased with his arrangement. Some of his work as Pillarman was routine and administrative, but the rest was sensitive and vital to the clan. Tar was glad he did not have his brother’s job, managing hundreds of clan members and never filling Hilo-jen’s shoes. This role suited him much better. He didn’t have to deal with the layers of clan hierarchy or handle interactions with Lantern Men or the public; he answered only to the Pillar, who trusted him implicitly.

It was no small task, to ambush an enemy Green Bone in his own territory—and to take him alive, no less. Tar planned the operation down to the smallest detail. His target was a junior Fist in the Mountain named Seko, who had an elderly mother who lived in the Commons district. A fake phone call was placed to Seko early on a Fourthday morning, informing him that his mother had collapsed on the sidewalk on her way to the grocer’s and been taken to Janloon General Hospital in the Temple District. Seko rushed off at once.

At an intersection on the road between Little Hammer and the Armpit, he was met by an erected construction barricade. Two cars drove up behind his, blocking his escape. Had the man been any less distracted with worry, he might have Perceived the ambushers’ approach; as it was, he was entirely taken by surprise. Gunmen in the first car peppered his tires with bullets and blew out his rear windshield. Seko burst from the car with an enraged shout, running for the barricade and vaulting Light to clear it, but Tar had anticipated this and had in place two of No Peak’s Green Bones who were most skilled in Deflection. They hurled a combined wave that slammed into Seko in midair and knocked him to the asphalt like a flung doll. The Fist lay stunned, his energy spent in Steeling himself against the impact. He hadn’t had the chance to pull his gun from the glove compartment of his car, nor did he have a moon blade on him—only his jade-hilted talon knife. Before he could draw it, Tar’s men pinned him with Strength and tore his weapon away. They bound him hand and foot, gagged him, and threw him into the trunk of one of the cars.

Tar was pleased by how smoothly everything had gone. Seizing the man had taken less than five minutes. Kehn’s patrols had ensured that the avenue had been cleared, so no property had been damaged and no civilians harmed beyond the minor inconvenience of the road closure. Janlooners were used to occasional incidents of clan violence, but the intense street war last year had sapped their patience to its limit; the Pillar would not want unnecessary disruption to cost No Peak any more public goodwill.

Tar was tempted to stop by a pay phone to call Hilo-jen with the good news but decided that would be premature. He’d wait until he had substantive information to share. Besides, he needed to beat morning rush-hour traffic before it began in earnest; already the streets were filling with bicycle couriers and delivery trucks. Taking smaller roads, he drove deep into the Junko district. He could hear muffled thumps and bangs from the back of the car, but he wasn’t worried. The trunk had been thoroughly reinforced with enough steel that even the Strength of a man with twice as much jade as Seko would’ve only succeeded in denting it. Sure enough, the noises ceased after a short time, leaving only the Perception of the man’s panicked heartbeat and the shrill texture of desperation emanating from the compartment.

They took their prisoner to an old nightclub that had originally been built as an air-raid shelter fifty years ago but had stood empty for the past several months; it was scheduled to be demolished and replaced with a condo building. Seko’s wrists were bound with chains and attached to a rope tied to a ceiling support beam. He hung with his arms pulled over his head, the toes of his combat boots barely resting on the floor. Tar studied the man. Seko wore dark clothes, jade bolts through his ears, and a jade ring in his nose. He had a short, neatly trimmed goatee and an arrogant face; even in his dire situation, his lips twisted in a humorless smirk.

“So you’re Maik Tar,” said Seko. “Kaul Hilo’s hound dog.”

The smirk left Seko’s face as Tar ripped the jade ring from his nose and the bolts from his ears. The Fist bellowed in pain. Tar motioned for his men to stand by the door, then broke the two smallest ribs on both sides of Seko’s body. “If you’ve heard of me, then you know that’s just an introduction.”

“Where’s my ma?” Seko wheezed, in quite a different voice. “Is she all right?”

“Of course,” said Tar. “She’s probably getting back from the grocer’s now. What do you think we are, animals? In the No Peak clan, we don’t break aisho. We don’t use jadeless people as our puppets and tools.” He spat at Seko’s feet. “You were good about never using your name and covering your tracks in No Peak territory, so it took me a while to catch up to you. I’ve found most of your little rats by now, but you’re going to help me find the rest.”

“You’re going to kill me no matter what I tell you,” Seko pointed out.

Tar shrugged. “Sure, but wouldn’t you rather die quickly and spare your ma from suffering? You don’t want to hang there for days, going through jade withdrawal on top of everything. I’d rather not see it myself. You’re not one of those shine addicts you kept on your leash; you’re a Green Bone of the Mountain—you’ve got some self-respect, don’t you?”

Seko’s head hung between his straining shoulder blades. He nodded.

“Good, now we understand each other, you fucking pussy.” Tar rolled the man’s jade in the palm of his hand. “Here’s the thing, see: The Mountain’s never answered for Kaul Lan. Someone gave two assassins information about his habits, handed them Fullerton machine guns, and sent them to the Lilac Divine. I’ve done a lot of asking around, and I’m figuring that was you.”

After a moment, Seko nodded again without raising his head. Tar contained the excitement he felt and said, “They worked for your mole Mudt Jin, didn’t they?”

“They were a couple of punks who held up trailer trucks of fancy handbags and wallets and shit,” Seko said. “Just two jade-fevered kids. We didn’t figure them for anything.”

“What were their names?”

“How the fuck should I know?” said Seko. “I don’t remember their names.”

That was not the answer that Tar wanted to hear. He had a bad feeling that Seko was telling the truth, but he broke another two of the man’s ribs and said, “You’d better give me more than that, you goatfucking bastard. Or I’m going to change my mind about letting you meet the gods in one piece.” Seko hung limp, breathing shallowly through a slack mouth, twisting slightly on the rope. Tar left him and went outside to give the man some time alone in the dark to search his memory. Sometimes people remembered more after a good long ponder.

Outside, because he hadn’t had breakfast yet, he walked down the street to the bakery on the corner and bought a bag of round walnut paste cakes and a carton of sweetened milk. Junko was primarily an industrial district, full of brick and gray concrete, not very attractive, but No Peak was strong here; the businesses had white lanterns hanging over their doors or in their windows, and people on the street dipped in salute when they saw the jade around Tar’s fingers and neck. Tar returned to the building and shared the food with Doun and Tyin, two of his Fingers. Traditionally, the Pillarman was an administrative role in the clan and did not command Fists or Fingers, but in a time of war Kaul Hilo had made certain changes to the position. He’d given Tar and his men responsibility for finding and eliminating enemy agents in No Peak territory, and now he called upon the small team for whatever special tasks he needed accomplished that would otherwise be an additional burden on the Horn. To minimize confusion with Kehn’s organization, Tar was going to suggest to the Pillar that his people be called something other than Fingers, but he was not sure what yet.

He was tipping the last of the cake crumbs into his palm when his Perception startled with the sudden awareness of something harsh and wrong. Tar tensed, alarmed, scanning in every direction until he realized that what he was sensing was coming from inside the building: a stampeding heartbeat, blinding pain, a blast of terror and triumph. Tar threw open the metal door and was astonished to see Seko jerking and sputtering, blood pouring from his neck down the front of his black shirt. Tar drew his talon knife and cut the rope holding the Fist up; the man collapsed like a sack, his mouth working instinctively for air, but his eyes bright with scorn. Tar bent over him, spitting curses. He could sense the prisoner’s life flooding out like tidewater. He tried to stop it by directing his own energy into clotting the man’s wound, but Channeling had never been Tar’s strongest discipline, and in seconds, Seko was dead. His bloodstained hands, still bound in chains, clutched a small, flat blade.

Too late, Tar understood his mistake. He’d stripped the man of his talon knife and his jade and thought him helpless. In a determined feat of strength and willpower, the Mountain Fist had managed to bring his feet up to his hands and extract the plain blade hidden in one of his combat boots. Then he’d pulled his body up on the chains and cut his own throat.

Tar kicked and stomped on the corpse in a blistering fury. When he calmed down, he could not deny he was impressed. For a warrior who’d lost his jade to still outwit his enemies and die on his own terms—Seko’s mother ought to be proud to have a son who was so green.

That did not change the fact that Tar was now, to his great embarrassment and frustration, at a dead end in terms of finding the remaining assassin and the missing jade.

As usual, Kehn was more stoic and levelheaded about the situation. “We just have to wait until he shows up again,” he said over the phone. “Sounds like this thief is a reckless kid with an ungodly amount of stolen green. No one with that much jade stays hidden for long.”

His brother’s common sense made Tar feel better, but only temporarily; the following week, the Mountain stole across the border from Spearpoint and took revenge for Seko in an attack that left one of Kehn’s men dead and put Tyin in the hospital for two weeks. Because a storefront was damaged by gunfire and two civilian bystanders injured by wide Deflections, the incident ended up as front-page news. The headline, No End in Sight to Clan Violence, was printed above the photograph of the dead No Peak Green Bone in a pool of blood in front of the shattered window of a Jollo Plus Mart.