Hempel's Raven Hui'an '80 Beijing '85 {1880-85}
The train grated upon the tracks, and every minute it felt like it was careening against the ground, the mechanical pounding echoing throughout her head. Even in her dreams, it seemed as if she couldn't escape that sound. But was she even dreaming? It felt as if there was something terribly wrong about this place - for one thing, where were all the passengers, or guards watching over shipments of grain? Her pulse quickened and she walked down the cars - endless oceans of freight cars, each one seeming just like the last. Then, she heard something else besides the roar of the train.
With no mistake, someone
was following behind her.
Hong Mei Ling jolted awake, breathing heavy and eyes wide. She could feel the cold sweat on her face and inwardly cursed herself for sleeping so long.
It was a dream, and nothing more. So why did it feel so real..? Let it pass, and remain calm. Taking a deep breath, Hong Mei Ling felt the cool night air drifting through a passenger car window that had been left open. Her fear was further dispelled as an undignified snore cut through the air - Clark had fallen asleep as well and with one hand stuffed into his coat pocket not unlike a famous leader, was clutching something tightly to his chest.
I'd hate to imagine that of all the things to wake me up, your snoring had to be it, Osskisson. I wonder if you've even found a way to interrupt my dreams, now? Laughing quietly, she considered waking Clark, but settled for watching him sleep. The harried look that was always in his eyes when he was awake had left him - giving him a rare look of peace as the moonlight lit the passenger car. She gently moved his hand aside and noticed how cold to the touch it was and rummaged around the car for a blanket; there had been one bed in the car, but either the previous occupants had taken it's blanket, or the thin sheet that covered it was supposed to provide some warmth. Sighing, she settled on the latter and set it gently over Clark's sleeping form.
The paper he had clutched to his chest slid out of his fingertips as the blanket touched his shoulders and Mei Ling carelessly picked it up. It was a letter, of course - unfinished as usual. Though he barely looked a day over the age of thirty, he had often started writing letters of late, only to stop them half-way as wrote and never to remember them again, a look of cheerful naivete gracing his face when asked about them.
Hard to say if it's endearing or unbelievably annoying. Then again, that's Clark-
Her thought was cut off as she read the first, and only sentence. No, it couldn't even be called that; the first stuttering note. Then, her eyes unblinking, she read it again. Again and again until it dawned on her that no matter how many time she read it, it would make no sense and meant nothing at all. And if it meant nothing at all- her fingers tightened around the paper, crumpling it as she felt the cool breeze beckoning. And without any further thought she took the message and let it slide out the window. It's ink-stained surface showed it's face one last time -
Mei Ling -
I-
-
Clark whistled to himself as he returned to the dining car, fresh newsprint tucked safely under his arm. It'd cost three yuan notes for the paper, which the boy selling had acted somewhat surprised to see - but Clark had assured the boy that not only was paper money perfectly legitimate, with a fine and varied history in the annals of Chinese history, but these bank notes had just been established two years back! He'd then excitedly babbled on about said history, ignoring the glazed look in the paperboy's eyes as he murmured that yes, he'd known, and that he was just surprised to see them in circulation. That had been enough for Clark and source of information in hand, he'd headed back to join Mei Ling for lunch, and perhaps tea.
As he elbowed through the crowd, he could hear a familiarly melancholy voice. Ah, Moonwatcher. It'd been some time, indeed.
You know, lecturing about ancient history to a youth who more than likely knows everything you're telling them is pretty terrible, Clark. If I were to tell you about Geometry and the music of the spheres, wouldn't you be terribly bored? Clark suppressed a snicker, drawing a few strange looks which he promptly ignored.
You're right of course. But *history!* It's so fascinating and interesting that I just assume everyone else will share the same love for it that I have - and on a lovely sunny day like today, with the countryside speeding past us in this wonder of technology... Can you blame me if I'm a little excited? A mental sigh - but an amused one - was the only response he got as he walked past the conductor, blue hat bobbing in brief acknowledgment.
"Fine, suit yourself!" Clark murmured to himself, still grinning. Then, catching Mei Ling out of the corner of his eye, he waved enthusiastically. She didn't notice at first, looking out the window as if watching something far removed from the reality of the train carriage. His chaotic motions caught her attention soon enough, however and stifling a laugh of her own she motioned for him to join her - which Clark promptly did, collapsing into the booth exhaustedly.
"Nice to see you up and awake, Clark. I thought that after how hard you'd slept after getting on the train, I'd end up taking care of you until we reached Guiyang. You snore louder than me, by the way." They both laughed, although Mei Ling swore that Clark looked a little hurt by the allegation. Pointing at the newspaper under his arm she shot him an inquisitive stare. "What's in the paper? Anything interesting?"
Progress, Mei Ling! A beautiful bouquet of it!
Clark refused to respond to the slight 'snrk' that escaped Mei Ling's lips followed by what could have been her murmuring that was a stupid choice of words - it didn't matter. This was science, and the ultimate victory of the Qing Empire! "You can see clearly in the front page how Qing scientists have utterly humiliated the West in the pursuit of a practical, efficient, malaria vaccine. That should be more than enough interest to wrap up a fine lunch, should it not?"
Mei Ling had stopped laughing however, instead looking highly philosophical. "Hey, Clark. If some Westerner had beat China to the discovery, you'd be booing and hissing, right?" Clark paused, unsure where this was going - so he smiled fearlessly and took a sip of his tea.
"Of course! After all, this proves China's prestige. In a way, it makes me feel guilty about helping a rebel such as yourself. Not so guilty that I can't still tag along, hahaha!..." His laughter didn't last long, because the answer hadn't caused Mei Ling to smile at all. She continued to look thoughtful, eyes slightly glazed as if in reflection, or possibly half-sleep. For a minute, Clark wondered if maybe for once, it was she who had been the one to avoid the evening's rest.
"... No, that's not it, Clark. If people are protected from Malaria, that's enough, right? That's the point of this progress. Instead, it's become some weird contest - where one 'side' has to humiliate the other, defeat them. And I remember you parroting views when we first met, views that I didn't precisely appreciate." She held up her hand as Clark leapt to his own defense, indicating she wanted to finish.
"It's not like I haven't done the same thing. Maybe I still am, searching for a China that neither of us can even be sure exists. But for a minute, I wondered - why does it matter who developed the technology? At this point, the West couldn't drag the Qing down even if it was invaded by multiple countries at once. In the contest of prestige, we've won. But who are we?" She drummed her fingers against the booth table as several waiters began to cart food through - an incredible mixture of aromas and spices drifted through the air. Clark motioned to the waiters and quietly asked for some time, waiting for Mei Ling's response.
"What I'm trying to say is that this whole thing feels like a farce. We're being distracted from the real issues again - things like how the factories haven't change how poor people are - and if they're scratching by somehow, how their freedom to say their mind goes out the window in the desire to be upwardly mobile. For example, take a family of farmers-"
Clark cut her off with a knowing smile. "My, my - seems our little stop in Hui'an really got you somewhere. Well, since you're playing devil's advocate for - well, for what exactly, I'm not quite sure - let me be the advocate to your advocate. So what if that is the case? It sounds to me like you want to change things, but you've just now realized how huge a task that is - and how even if you can change the Qing Empire, somehow - you realize that won't be enough." Crossing his arms, he looked out the window, watching the hills roll by.
"Maybe it's human to give up in the face of such overwhelming problems. But I've always known it's my duty to fix things. At first, it was just the Osskisson family honor - perhaps it still is. Or perhaps by trying to fix everything, I've just mired myself down and dragged everyone involved with me down with me. Honestly, if I hadn't gone with the Tianmen Emperor that night, I probably would've confessed to you right then and there. Would've saved us both quite a bit of time and angst, wouldn't it?" He chuckled at nothing in particular, his face hidden as the train vanished under a tunnel.
"You're not going to hear me admit doubts like this very often - because it scares me to think about how wrong I might have been, Mei Ling. Sometimes I'm scared that I... Hah, listen to me right now. I sound terrible, don't I? Well, let me get back to our discussion instead of these little tangents. Even knowing all of this - you still want to go ahead with your plans, don't you? Mei Ling, even if you can't fix things - even if you just break them more - you have to keep trying, don't you?" It wasn't a question. Really, it was more of a plea. A plea that if denied, would mean that so many years of his own life had been wasted.
Of course he'd known the answer before she spoke, however - her hand on his just reaffirmed what he'd always known. "There is nothing that could persuade me to stop now, Clark. We're both too stubborn to give up something when we've just found it." She smiled at him, and that was enough. Without further talk, Clark waited for the dining cart to wheel it's way over and the conversation switched to lighter things over food and tea.
So then, why were you planning on going alone?
-
Foreign dogs! Know your place!
Ma Anliang's cavalry troops cut through the Russian refugee armies like tissue paper. The roar of combat had turned into the droning cry of terror as the foreign insurgents poured back across the border - or rather, tried to. Ma Anliang had been watching them for days, his subordinate Deng Kangan specifically told not to attack... But to wait. And wait he did. After torching Russian settlements, the rebels had thought to cross the border. Perhaps they had been routed. Perhaps they secretly hoped to take Chinese terrain. Or perhaps they were simply drunk with power.
It mattered not to him. All he saw was the retreat of scum barely worthy of their own lives. The late Zeng Guofan had been fond of allowing a defeated enemy to escape with their honor intact. Although Ma Anliang was not a cruel man by nature, in the eyes of the rebels, he saw chaos. Chaos that could more easily spread then wildfire and tear all the achievements of the past decade down. In that time, in that place, he made his decision. Deng Kangan rode up alongside him, waiting for instruction. "Your orders, sir?"
"... Route them back towards the borders. If any show the slightest sign of fighting back, kill them all. I will take responsibility. Now ride!" With a thrash of his reigns, the cavalry stampeded towards the feeling Russian revolutionaries, sun reflecting off of the steel of guns and swords drawing ever closer. It was hard to tell when the fleeing mob realized they would not escape, and begin to fight - but when the sun fell from the sky, there were no survivors, save one.
The message of revolution had survived.
-
The palace was in an unstoppable panic as the news hit. Courtiers who had lived their whole lives accustomed to decadence and order were gripped with the news as if by the cold vice of death itself. Emperor Tongzhi, young face already pockmarked with worries and doubts not unimaginable for a ruler three times his age, was staring at delegate after delegate with an increasingly pale face as his Empress watched him, unable to do more than stare - the slightest misspoken word from her, and any Lord or Lady of the court could latch onto it like a knife, one that Xiao Zhe knew they would not hesitate to plunge into her husband's chest.
"My lord Emperor! Our troops are deployed to the borders, with very few besides the last remnants of the Banner system being reorganized around urban areas!"
"These, these impudent rebels pillage our lands with their strange ideas of freedom and liberty - they occupy the factories you have built, the very sign of your providence, and seize them for themselves!"
"All of our consortium's holdings in Guangdong have been burned to the ground, and a foreign ambassador gutted alive and left for the gulls!"
"If it were not for you, they would not know what these machines did! What will you do? Emperor! Emperor!"
Tongzhi's fists were clenched so tightly that his own nails had began to dig into his skin; he could feel them breaking the surface and the warmth of his blood trickling onto the floor - worse, he could feel hot tears began to well up in his eyes. Don't panic, he began to think, trying to remember the strict rules of his mother. Show no fear, for they will break you. Show no worry, because it will make your head bow. Show no regret, for it will chain you down. No! It's useless! Mother, where was she? This was her field, not his! He had never wanted this burden! It was mother's fault!
"S.... S..." An indescribable sound came out of Tongzhi's uncertain lips. Perhaps he was calling to someone who was not there, or perhaps he was so paralyzed from fear and self-doubt that nothing he said could even rightly be said to resemble a word. One of the courtiers raised a fan to her lips; but it could not hide her giggling. Then, a nobleman of military backing began to chortle as well, his hands at his sides as if to contain an endless laughter when nothing was remotely funny. Soon, the entire room was laughing at Tongzhi, who with his face downcast made no effort to defend himself.
"STOP!"
The voice was loud and commanding - and it forced the laughter to halt and acknowledge it. Nevertheless, there was an elegance to that one word, a musical tone that identified the speaker even before she rose from her husbands side with eyes that glistened like a storm. Empress Xiao Zhe spoke with an authority that none had expected from her delicate form as she glared in judgment at the court that dared insult the Qing Emperor.
"You dare to come in with grievances that are as much your own fault as the rioting of these raucous peasants, and then hurl them upon my husband, the Emperor with whose authority you are allowed to be something more than the filth that it is evident you rose from? It is clear there is more nobility in the slovenly rebels then there shall ever be in this room! You should all be on your knees, begging my husband for his heavenly forgiveness, and yet you dare to laugh? How dare you? How *DARE* you?"
Her rage was like a whip, cowing the uproar as it fell upon the courtiers and nobles, and for a minute Tongzhi felt as if he had been saved. His gaze met with that of his wife - and for that same minute their eyes communicated more of their love then sweet speech ever could. The crowd, however, would not let them savor that time - many had not been stunned for long by the Empresses' strong words. Zuo Zongtang, well-respected general bowed his head respectfully.
"Empress, you speak from the heart. Many in the crowd have forgotten their place, and as such spoke rudely to the Emperor and yourself. Nonetheless, a firm solution is called for to solve the crisis - if not, the entire Qing state could be dismantled by powers foreign or domestic. What is your suggestion, Emperor Tongzhi?" He had ignored her after a brief courtesy, addressing the overwhelmed Emperor directly - and empowered by this realization, the crowd began to revive.
Face contorted with delight, a mid-level bureaucrat approached the throne. "Yes, yes! Emperor Tongzhi, what will you do? Do you hope to wait it out in the palace? Has the Emperor fallen so far to be inactive and secluded, as the Prince Gong was before you?" Xiao Zhe glowered at the man before her - what was his name? Hong... Xiuquan? Not only had he disrespected the former Emperor who had raised him to this station, he also had ignored her - but there was nothing more she could do. She was a woman, and there was no woman that was strong enough to be recognized by the entirety of the court - helplessly, she watched as the courtiers gathered around her husband, a tiny mob of their own.
The door to the inner court exploded open.
In marched two squadrons of well-regimented troops, rifles slung over their backs and faces obscured by their plumed hats. Leading the regiments was an older man whose faced was set into an expression as hard as stone. The regiments stood at either side of the open gate in respectful attention, as the Imperial Mother, Cixi strode slowly into the room. Where her gaze fell, courtiers and noblemen, soldiers and businessmen fell to the ground, unable to meet the devastating venom of her gaze. She spoke first to Xiao Zhe, the only one to stare straight back into Cixi's eyes, unafraid.
"... I'm glad I didn't have you killed, Lady Alute. It seems that I've misjudged you. You are indeed capable enough to be the husband of my only son, and the worthy Empress of these unworthy souls." Although the crowd was shocked by Cixi's candid admission in considering a crime they had all imagined she would take part in, the force of arms and her authority meant none could stand against her. Cixi's smile to Xiao Zhe was infinitesimally tiny, yet radiantly proud. To Xiao Zhe, who had rarely seen the Empress's smile except as a facade used to enforce the illusions she wove, it was an incredible sight.
But it did not last for long as Cixi's gaze turned to her son, with a wrath even more terrible than that which had been reserved for the courtiers. "As for you, my worthless disgrace for a son - you have failed, as I expected. Time and time again you have failed, unsure whether to follow in the footsteps of your uncle, your grandfather, or simply follow the instructions I give you. Your stupidity sometimes makes me wish that I had a daughter, not a son!"
The entire room winced as Cixi struck with words like tiny knives - but none could predict what she said next, Tongzhi flinching as if expecting a physical blow to follow the emotional. "You've let yourself be attacked from all angles by a crowd barely worthy to lick your shoes, and for what? Because you cannot deal with some upstart peasant rebels. It's truly pathetic. Yes, truly pathetic... That all you useless parasites would insult this man!" She spun around and once again the crowd fell around her, terrified.
"My son is useless and weak and frail - yet, facing his problems, he has ruled kindly and dispassionately. Against my advice he has tried to improve the standards of living for all the subjects of this disparate Empire. He has taken care of more than you can possibly know, or will ever know, and is the divinely birthed Son of Heaven! And still you claim his fallacy? HA! Emperor Tongzhi! Show them that no peasant rebellion, or self-proclaimed Imperial Rule Assistance Society can possibly pose a threat to those with the divine throne of sovereignty!"
Tongzhi rose, looking not like the scared child he felt he was, but the true Emperor of the Qing. He recalled the relaxed but sharp approach of his uncle and the wit of his mother, and knew in an instant what must be done. "Send divisions to route all the rebels. Tell all our garrisons that anyhow who surrender should be spared and allowed to join into the Qing army. Those that resist should be made an example of, so that never again will rebels raise their fists against ours - no, my Divine Right!"
And with that, the crowd rose to this fantastic stage in thunderous applause, their applause drowning out the tiniest of whispers between Cixi and her two children, one through birth and the other of respect. "Zaichun. I meant everything I've said about you. There are times when I've despaired of ever having you. However... I love you. And never forget for an instant that I am your mother. To protect you from these slathering fools, I would turn into a demon and send them all scurrying back to hell." With that, Cixi withdrew to the tiny throne she had installed in the loneliest corner of the room as the crowd dispersed to fulfill the Qing Emperor's will.
-
When Clark and Hong Mei Ling arrived at Guiyang, it had become a completely different place. The train had pulled into the station and been pelted with rocks and mud; several windows had been smashed and regular cries to expel the foreigners could be heard. Hong Mei Ling was quick enough on the uptake to guess what was going on. Grabbing Clark's hand, she steeled her tired body and dashed towards the exit, the little the two owned throne over their backs. As they sped to the carriage exit, it was easy to catch small vignettes out of the corner of her eye.
An old man, half-asleep through the chaos. Two young couples obviously headed to a new university, confused but energetic. A foreign family, speaking an unintelligible language in claustrophobic terror. The train conductor, shaking his fist as he tried to guarantee the safety of his passengers.
Without further thought or sentimentality, her feet hit the metal that signified the stepladder out - and she leapt down, landing on her feet with a slight cough as she caught her breath. Then she blinked in horror - Clark was no longer holding her hand. Wheeling around, she saw him weaving his way through the crowd far more slowly, stopping to reassure people, an implacable smile on his face.
What is that moron doing?! Clark - hurry up!
Clark seemed to hear her inward thoughts, and hopped down the stepladder confidently, unaware or unafraid at the din of revolution around him. He paused to smile beatifically at her, and bowed his head slightly. "My apologies for keeping you waiting, fair lady - it seems there are some people in there who are scared to death of the atmosphere. It does not quite fit the pastoral countryside they expect when they hear of foreign adventures. I thought that although we have our own business to attend to, we might be able to clear a path for them?"
She couldn't believe her ears. Was he seriously...?
Heh. "You might think I'm too old and out of touch to take this one, Osskisson. I'll prove you wrong in a heartbeat. There's a military garrison just past the train depot. We just have to make sure no one blocks the way." Grinning cockily, she tilted her head to the left - and spat, lips curled in frustration.
"Well, there's a mob all right. Well-armed too. It looks like it's got disgruntled soldiers and factory workers, mostly. Some are missing limbs, and a few are women. How did things spiral out of control so quickly?" Clark shrugged apologetically, staring at the crowd for himself. Although some hefted make-shift weapons or knives, this wasn't a gang of incensed artisans in a cozy teashop, but a revolt of the disenfranchised, trying desperately to create some sort of future for their children.
He turned to voice his plan to Mei Ling - that they should try to talk things out - only to notice that she had already hurled herself down the rail with a well-timed jump, grunting as she hit the ground at a run and hurtled towards the mob.
Wow, given how old your broad is, seems that she's still pretty feisty. Maybe you should, you know, help her or something? Chief? Gentleman's words held a sense of worry to them, but Clark hadn't even been listening. Throwing himself over the railing - and falling to the ground with an un-acrobatic thud - he darted after her, already winded and panting.
What he couldn't see was that Mei Ling was breathing raggedly as well, clutching a stitch in her side and trying to remain calm through the pain.
Damnit. Why am I so impulsive? I don't have to prove anything... So why am I trying to do this? A particularly nasty thought insinuated itself into her mind as she threw herself into the crowd with a flying punch, catching one of the factory workers upside the head with an audible smack. He stumbled back as Mei Ling landed unsteadily on the platform the rebels had gathered on, her fists raised in front of her. Strands of greying auburn hair fell between her eyes... And she readied herself for the first blow.
It never came. Even when Clark dragged his breathless body up the steps to the platform, wheezing but determined to back her up - the crowd was just staring in recognition. Mei Ling began to feel increasingly anxious for something to happen, perhaps even a bit embarrassed. Finally, the factory worker she had hit spoke, covering his jaw with one hand. "An old guard..? Here? We thought that most reformists had either melted away into the Tongzhi Emperor's cadre, or died of old age. Sister!" The crowd gathered around Mei Ling, cheering and raising her up on their shoulders.
Clark followed after them, confused but elated. With the mob caught in such a diversion, their attention had been broken from the train, which was now unloading as if nothing had happened in the first place. Mei Ling was also confused, but seemed to be less so as she pointed sheepishly to her hat - which still contained, sloppily woven into it, a certain character. "It seems like I'm unintentionally popular... Although I'm impressed you all know your ancient history, I'd be pleased if you could all let me down - and perhaps tell me where you're going, or who you are."
The rebels graciously abided her, lowering her to her feet as an old man with patched black hair spoke. "Well, we're part of a larger movement - the Imperial Rule Assistance Society. We believe that the Qing Emperor has become too influenced by his Mother and by foreign powers. Clearly there are some exceptions to the rule-" He smiled at Clark, who offered a nervous grin back. "-But where foreign influence has set down it's foot, death and poverty follow. We will not let China be despoiled by decadent courts or foreign powers any longer! The Manchu will have no choice but to accept our advice, perhaps a parliamentary system..."
As if some unofficial meeting had started, the rebels began to talk amongst themselves - the violent feeling from earlier had dissipated, and this began to feel like nothing more than a harmless meeting amongst friends discussing politics over hot tea.
And just a minute ago, they were prepared to attack that visiting couple who spoke in that gravely language - for no reason besides their supposed implicit involvement in China's destruction. Mei Ling cursed under her breath, then tucked the troublesome stray hairs from earlier back into her bun and offered a conciliatory smile.
"It seems like you've been keeping the flame of revolution hot even while amongst the past generation, it sometimes has died out. My friend and I were not here to aid you in anyway, but it seems fate has deposited us here - we were hoping to investigate the new factory being constructed - would it be possible for you to show us the way?"
A stout man who was carrying a young child upon his shoulders beamed tranquilly at them. "Of course! It's simple enough - just follow the river to it's mouth, and you'll reach it soon. Long live the Qing! Long live China!" The crowd roared in celebration, and Mei Ling bit her lip. Clark was clearly ready to leave at that comment - and it was clear he felt it would be the best option to remove themselves as hastily as possible.
I can't do that, though. Something has to be done.
"Hey - wait. I know how the taste of reform has only caused you all to crave more. Every day I wish - no, I know that an era where our effort will actually mean something draws near. However... It's too much to choose targets at random like that." The crowd quieted down instantly, it's well-wishing glances instantly turned into hostile whisperings. The atmosphere had become something else entirely in that moment - but Mei Ling pressed on.
"And it is the fault of foreign influences, mostly. China has had treaty after treaty forced down it's throat, and only now have we been able to protect our interests and our future! We remember the loss of Macau, of tributaries being yanked away, off our commerce disrupted and foreign goods sold to us while being plied with opium!" The crowd was cheering again, this time as if being riled to the attack. Then, Mei Ling cut them off.
"But how does that justify randomly attacking foreigners? I've been hanging around this one for some time now - and although he can be an insensitive idiot at times, he's not so bad a guy, really." Clark went beet-red and looked as if he wanted to interrupt, but kept his mouth shut.
"An old mentor of men once was telling me about tactics - if you attack the first opponent who comes your way, you may be tired when the enemy leader reveals themselves. And if you cannot take them, then nothing changes. You will not gain food through attacking foreigners. You will not gain prestige, or protection for your family or loved ones. Nor will you gain these things by mindlessly attacking the Qing! To strike hard and strike fast, we must view the real cause of these problems - whoever is benefiting off of the sorrow of our people!"
Once again the crowd cheered, and Mei Ling thrust her fist into the air. "To blindly lash out doesn't bring victory - only fools believe that one dramatic battle can bring a happy ending, instead of the enemy just bringing larger, better trained forces to bear. Instead of attacking each other with violence, let us reform the root of the problem with peace, and make China the greatest country on earth!"
As Clark and Mei Ling left the crowd, which was slowly spreading out as it continued to talk amongst itself like a group of old friends, Clark couldn't help but ask her a question. "That was pretty good speaking... But are you sure you know you're doing? They might just decide as a group that your advice means killing every businessman, noble, and merchant in the Qing Empire. What will you do then?"
Mei Ling gave him an enigmatic smile. "As an individual, it is their decision what they must do. And whatever that choice is, they will have to take responsibility for it. For now, I think they'll choose to be more peaceful, and perhaps think more carefully about their targets. But I could be wrong, and if I am? Then it is my responsibility to live with my mistakes. Either way, worrying about it now brings nothing - and if it changes things for the better, well I'm one step closer to achieving my goal."
Clark chuckled darkly, throwing his hands into his pockets. "Seems like you've been reading that German's book. In the future though, don't introduce me as an insensitive idiot! It makes me feel sensitive and scorned - if I could at least be introduced as a sensitive idiot, then I'd feel much better." Their laughter echoed throughout the sunny, cloudless skies as they approached the towering hulk of a factory under construction. It's spires reached into the skies, and a long section of pipe had been constructed for slurry to be dumped into the river from.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Clark whistled in spite of himself, amazed at the bastion of iron and steel. "... Almost like a modern-day castle of industry. Certainly this one isn't complete, but, even still the graceful lines of it's architecture..." He shook his head in admiration.
"Anyway, sitting around here staring at it isn't going to give us any information. Shall we, my dear?" He held out his hand and Mei Ling took it gingerly - then they walked down the basin towards the tamped-down construction site, beams of steel and iron left to the side in preparation for further work. Not a single worker was in sight.
Mei Ling let go of Clark's hand and wandered through the empty halls, listening to the wind whistling through gaps in the beams as she walked. Besides the strange, melancholy emptiness - nothing stood out. It was almost like the place was completely deserted. Clark was staring up at the ceiling of the complex, a far-off expression clouding his face - it disappeared completely when Mei Ling looked his way, of course, replaced by a sunny smile that matched the blue skies above.
Naturally, that only makes me worry more. Tell me what you're feeling for once!
She walked towards him with the intent to ask him up front, when the first tendril of transparent light sliced through one of the beams. The second came just as fast, from behind them. They were soundless, the only sign that they had been there the gleaming red embers burning in sections of the steel girders - sections that had been burnt straight to the core.
Clark dashed over to her side as several men in white suits walked out of the sunlight, their faces shielded by white bowler hats. No, that's not correct - they had no facial features at all, their faces completely blank. Mei Ling stepped in front of Clark, her hands outstretched like a wall. The standoff remained in check as time seemed to slow to a crawl. Clark could make out the quiet whisper of Mei Ling's controlled breathing. Then, everything sprang into motion.
The first stranger darted forward, so fast it's legs snapped and it's body fell forward, leading it to crawl on it's legs like some sort of spider. Mei Ling ran forward with a powerful yell and slammed her knee into it's face; the stranger fell back, crying out with a piercing howl. It didn't have to right itself as she planted her leg firmly in it's face and, with an audible crunch, twisted it into a fine red mist - or what it would've been if they bled. Instead, the stranger's head and soon it's entire body dissolved into a chalky powder, drifting away on the mild breeze and leaving nothing but a set of neatly folded white clothes. Mei Ling threw her head back, terror gripping her as another one of the strangers approached Clark in a dead run.
It's arms slung behind it like noodles, it threw itself into the air with a piercing cry and threw it's weight towards him. Clark had no chance to dodge and was knocked backwards, colliding with the girder as a terrible clang echoed throughout the construction site. Mei Ling roared again and dashed forward - and was thrown back by the third stranger, who had poured out of his suit entirely like a tower of fecund gelatin, transparent even as the sun glittered through it's body.
Mei Ling spat at the creature as it sprouted several limbs, each one ending in a tapered point like a spear.
She ignored the creature as she dove right through it with an unflinching kick.
The faceless mass could not look surprised - it had no face for such emotions, after all. But it could let out a wailing screech, like a construction crane leveling a tall building as it collapsed under it's own weight. It dissolved into the same powdery substance as the other one, and filtered away on the wind. It didn't change the facts however - the last stranger had leapt towards Clark, screaming and flailing it's arms - and there was no way she could make it back before he was -
Her eyes shut.
Hey, hey. You might want to open your eyes, at least your ears. It's not often I get a chance to directly influence things like this!
A faint music drifted through the air, and Hong Mei Ling opened her eyes - she could swear she had heard it somewhere before, perhaps in a waking dream. As the ethereal classical music died away, she could just make out a vague -
thing - make it's way behind the stranger. Then, the bizarre thing wearing the white suit exploded in a shower of powder and green fire, and whatever had stood behind it had disappeared back into the ether as the sound of heraldry trumpets slowly faded into the distance.
-
Clark had seen Mei Ling take care of the first stranger. He had tried to call out about the second, but his voice didn't seem to reach his throat, and no matter how hard he tried it seemed as if time was slowing down and the color flooding from the world around him. One of the strangers had thrown itself towards him, of that much he knew - he could still see it's many mouths opening in the sores of it's translucent flesh, equally obscure fangs dripping with glittering saliva.
Of course, that old goat would have left you to fend for yourself. See? That's why you need me. Remember that, when the time comes! And good luck trying to sort all that out!
Gentleman's deep laughter echoed throughout Clark's head and he fell to his knees, unsure of anything anymore. The flutter of white-yellow powder in the breeze seemed unreal, something no words of his could properly explain. He looked up at Mei Ling as she collapsed next to him, exhausted - and decided it didn't matter right now. The mystery could solve itself later. For now, he knew one thing -
I have to go on without her. Whatever is going on is far too dangerous for her to follow me any further.
Certain in his belief, Clark gave in to sleep.
-
Deng Xishun wasn't too thrilled with being tasked at investigating disturbances. He'd much preferred a peaceful life of policing local shops, perhaps searching for a thief if things got especially dangerous. Still, orders were orders... And whomever that new chief-of-staff the Emperor's mom had appointed was, he had been strict that all sites of interest - state works, construction projects, military sites - were to be policed at all times.
What was his name again? Ronglu?
Anyway, it wasn't his business what rebels did or didn't do. Most had been cut down in the first few days after the Qing got serious. Like any people really stood a chance against the Qing - he'd heard that Madame Cixi had been at the funeral of Zeng Guofan when she had received news of some sort of power-play going on in the court, and had taken off like a rocket. Dangerous gig, palace life. Honestly - he much preferred his comfortable reality, with guarantee of pay, and work that was never too exciting.
Well, that ends that reassuring illusion. Huh.
Scratching his head as to why an older woman and a younger guy'd be loitering around a construction site with three piles of neatly folded western clothing - identical white suits, no less! - Deng Xishun realized they were, technically trespassing. Sighing, he prepared to go and alert the military garrison. Then, he took another look, a more cunning one. Wait a sec- hadn't their been posters for these two? For some infraction, or something? His memory wasn't too good, but he never forgot the promise of extra money.
With a spring in his step, Deng Xishun rushed back to the garrison - by the next morning the area had been thoroughly cleaned, and one Clark Osskisson and one Hong Mei Ling were taking the state express to Beijing. Deng Xishun wasn't sure what they'd done, but were satisfied that they must have had it coming. After all, he wouldn't have been paid so handsomely if they weren't!
-
Cixi hadn't wanted to take such an active role in politics, but more and more her son was trusting her with things she'd had to do behind his back previously. It was both refreshing, and a pain - because with any pretense of subtlety gone, she'd played one of her key trump cards. On the other hand, having the assistance of both the Emperor and the Emperor's wife was incredibly useful. Not to mention the perfect replacement for poor Zeng Guofan.
"I'd thought you'd forgotten me, Ronglu." Cixi mused as her cousin paced up and down the Inner Court, perhaps expecting a bandit or revolutionary to materialize out of thin air. He laughed heartily in response, eyes twinkling.
"You do me an injustice, Cixi. I would never forget the cousin I swore to protect!... Besides, you have many enemies as of late. It seems like you still can't keep your mouth shut. In that case, you need a strong shield to support you. I shall be that shield." Cixi smiled inwardly, even if she couldn't let it reach her lips. Outward emotion was a quick path to sentimentality, which could lead to defeat.
Still, his words were nice.
"Thank you, Ronglu. By the way, I thought I might ask your advice on something? You see, I've been thinking that perhaps I've been too hard on Tongzhi, recently. He is a young man, is he not? As such, I thought that I might let a small glory tumble into his hands. You see, the Portuguese have been distracted recently. We've been attempting to yank them out of British protection. Not only have those fruits ripened well-"
Some poor, backwards state is in need of aid. Wouldn't it be wonderful if the mighty Qing pledged themselves to Transvaal's fight?
My Empress is indeed cunning. Are you sure this decision is safe?
No decision is safe, Ronglu - but that is a fact I am counting on. However, I must correct you - I am not Empress.
You will always be Empress to me, Lan.
... Thank you, Ronglu.
-
The train grated upon the tracks, and every minute it felt like it was careening against the ground, the mechanical pounding echoing throughout her head. Even in her dreams, it seemed as if she couldn't escape that sound. But was she even dreaming? Of course you are, stupid girl. If you weren't dreaming, you'd be talking idly to that useless, arrogant man. You remain unsatisfied to serve, yet proclaim your independence through such subservience? Less than useless! You are never a man, will never be a man, and can never be as good as a man! Learn your place, and return to it!
... What is my place? Is that something static? Something I can prove existed or does exist..? No. I am Hong Mei Ling. Younger sister of Hong Minsheng, daughter of Sun Pan Di and Hong Haoshi! By proving that I am me, you have no right to say that my place is any but that which I choose! You cannot control me!...
Even if I agr-
As the back car jolted, Hong Mei Ling rose groggily to her feet, tired hand weighing against her head.
When did I get this old..? I don't remember... They were in some sort of carriage. No, a train coach - it was empty, save for Clark, who was cutting an apple with a pen-knife. He beamed at her, slicing the apple neatly in two. "Ah, you're awake! It seems we've been captured by the Qing. I probably should've tried to stay awake, or kept you up somehow. You just looked so beautiful while you were resting though, it would've been a crime!"
His chuckle did nothing to brighten her mood - her head was killing her, and she had a brief bout of empathy for the days when Clark's headaches were so terrible as to cause him to do nothing but stay indoors. "... Cut it out, Clark. I'm not beautiful, and I never want to hear you say something like that, especially if it's a lie." She felt her fists ball up, felt the veins tighten on skin that felt too dry, not the way she remembered it in her dreams.
Clark had stopped peeling the apple. His face was deadly serious. "It's not a lie, and I'll say it again. You're beautiful. I'll say it again no matter how many times you deny it, so don't try to pretend otherwise." His grin told her to cheer up and accept it, but vanished the moment it was clear she wasn't going to, her head in her hands.
"I was never attractive. I've never been that smart or good-looking; if I'd just kept myself awake, somehow, we wouldn't be in this mess. Stupid! And now, now I'm old, and uglier and tired, and I don't know how long I can keep this, and somehow you look just like when I met you and on top of all of that - I, I, I-" She couldn't help it. Even though it took all her energy to cry, she couldn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes and dropping to the floor.
There was no pause. Clark was holding her gently, fingers stroking her hair as she cried until she had no more tears left, the only other sound the occasional thump of the train along it's tracks. Wiping the tears from her face, Hong Mei Ling smiled apologetically and laughed. "S-sorry. I must look very stupid right now. It's just - if something hadn't happened, you-"
"Shh. You were incredible, and I was... Well, I think I'm just born lucky, perhaps. Or maybe it's my stubbornness. But one thing I can tell you, is that you don't look stupid. You look like the woman I love, and it wouldn't matter if you were ten thousand years old. I'm a little surprised you have doubts like this! I'd thought it was just me!" His laugh was sheepish and it was a terrible joke, but she laughed anyway. Her hiccuping laughter didn't last long however, and for a minute he thought she might cry again. She didn't, however.
"Clark... Would it matter if I was a man?"
He didn't even think before responding. "If you saw how much I stared at you when we first met, you'd know the answer already." She laughed again, and cried as well - but as the train continued on it's path, he knew she would be all right. "And for the record, I find your gray hairs charming and dignified, like a fox on the prowl!"
Snickering, she shook her head. "You're terrible, Clark. I suppose that makes you... Something small and easily caught? Haaa... Uh, since were caught, where are we headed, anyway? If it's the state, it'd make sense for them to take us to Beijing - but I didn't even think they were looking for us, anyway. Why would they take us now? Just because we couldn't fight back?"
Clark didn't answer for some time, looking thoughtful. "Possibly. It seems to me however that they'd have a better reason than that. One thing is for certain however, when we get to Beijing. We'll rush the guards, and then you're going to follow my rather brilliant plan." Mei Ling smiled and raised her eyebrows in faux-shock.
"And what might that be? No matter what it is, you can count on me!"
"Simple, you're going to go back to Aigun and wait. This has gotten too dangerous. I refuse to risk your life anymore."
Maybe he'd expected her to smile, or laugh, or nod sheepishly. Maybe it was a joke, and she just didn't get his sense of humor. She had to be sure. "What did you just say?"
"You said wait at our home. I don't want you to die a meaningless death."
Hong Mei Ling blinked and then folded her arms across her chest, dumbfounded. "Wait... What? No. No, no, no! There is no way that I am just going to leave because you tell me to, because you think *my* life is in danger! You would be absolutely helpless without me if a fight breaks out, and I don't you relying on weird strangers or dumb luck, especially since there are things out there that seem to be following us!" Clark chuckled. How could he laugh at that?
"If I told you that I don't think I'm in any physical danger, would that change your mind?" Again, he seemed to think this was inherently funny. Or maybe - he assumed that if he wore that kind of expression, the wide, toothy grin and the vacant eyes, she'd just back off. She grit her teeth in annoyance. Like hell!
"There is no way I will ever leave your side unless you tell me flat-out that you don't want me with you. If you can say that, I'll leave right now." She closed her eyes, feeling every breath as it left her body. She couldn't see Clark, had no idea what look was on his face right now or what was going through his head. After a while she heard dry sobs, and could hear the near-silent patter of tears against the floor... Followed by Clark's whispered words.
"... No. Stay with me, Mei Ling. No matter what happens... I want to be together with you."
It was her turn to comfort him, as the railcar continued it's journey towards the capital and whatever awaited them there. She did not know what the future would hold, but at least they could face it, together. The long silence was only broken by the low murmur of their voices and the slow change of the weather from gentle sunlight to the overpowering heat of a scorching day in August.