“He’s not helping anyone . . . But I’ll help him die . . . ”

  Imai hammered the table. “Let him go now!”

  Shaji stared at Imai then unleashed a rageful scream. His grip loosened, dropping K to the ground.

  “Fuck!” Shaji punched a column with his full strength. The factory echoed as dust billowed from Shaji’s blow.

  “You sure know how to take it out on the wall!” Diana stepped forward and extended a hand to K.

  “Fortunately, it was just the wall this time.” Chris stretched lazily. He was used to such scenes. “People like Shaji need an outlet. Better dust on the floor than blood.”

  With Diana’s hand, K righted himself. His neck was red. His Adam’s apple pulsed. His whole body trembled like vibrating glass about to shatter. From his abdomen to his scalp, searing pain shot through his flesh. He saw a dazzling light, then the rhythm of his heart clenched. Boom, boom, boom . . .

  “Is he going to be . . . ” It was A Xu’s voice. She carefully lifted K’s hand, as though she were checking its every joint.

  “He’s all right for the time being,” Diana relaxed the hand she had pressed to K’s chest. “The effects of the PDO Compound have not yet penetrated the bone. If the bone were subject to that impact after third-phase fibrosis, it would be game over.”

  “Li . . . Mr. Li.” Squatting, Imai gazed into K’s half-open eyes and spoke in a raspy voice. “You did what you did because you wanted to live. It’s not your fault . . . But Zhang Heng’s experiments had reached the very last step, and we need you to help us . . . ”

  “That man help us?” Diana said.

  “Once the test results are made public, the PDO will have to admit the existence of the Compound antibody. They will have to release Zhang Heng.”

  “But we haven’t found the right person to test it on yet. That person will be the focus of the world. He must receive training, have the right identity and data—”

  “If he’s a friend of Zhang Heng’s, then isn’t this already the right person?”

  “But—”

  “No time, Diana,” Imai said firmly as he watched K struggle to regain full consciousness. “Mr. Li, we need you to work with us to save your friend Zhang Heng.”

  K trembled his eyes open. From mottled points of light, his vision slowly gelled into a clear picture of Imai staring back in front of a curtain of silver light. In the eyes of this old Japanese man, there was a sadness K had never seen. It seemed only now was he old enough to even conceive such sadness. “Tell me what I can do?”

  “Live.” Diana stared at K. “You have to live. And keep living.”

  : So when the time comes, no matter what I do, there’s no way to keep living?

  : Indeed, Mr. Li.

  : Even if I save the world or something—no exception?

  : Without exception, it is your obligation to die at the end of your legal life.

  : Fine. Hurry up. What’s the last part you have to tell me?

  : A few final points to understand and authorize. First, the PDO application requires genetic compatibility, which is to say, your PDO status will be written into your genetic account and become a part of your personal genetic information record, just like your assets, educational background, and criminal record. With a single hair, the authorized department can access all such information, though you can trust the PDO Administrative Center will only exercise that right according to reason and law.

  : Any other way besides trusting you?

  : By confirming this application, you authorize us to access your full genetic data. This is for your security. We carry out detailed encryption protocols to ensure your data integrity. Any retrieval or update of such data will require professional and compliant data replacement, as well as multiple authorizations by you personally. This makes it almost impossible for anyone to ever steal your genetic data access.

  : And who would want to steal my data?

  K watched the IV needle plunge into his vein. His arm clenched. Bright blood flowed back into the syringe. He felt a change in pressure under his skin, like some forgotten pain.

  “How should it feel?” K looked at Diana who was carefully preparing the next syringe with a mixture of white powder and pale blue liquid.

  Diana bit her lip. “How should it feel?”

  “Can I ask . . . Are you scared of me?”

  “It’s just been a while since I last did this. When you were back in the PDO Application Center, what would people ask before each injection?”

  “You . . . You used to work for PDO?”

  “In the injection lab.” Diana nodded, then injected the freshly prepared treatment into a dropper bottle. “But the equipment there was better. For eighty bucks, you even got aromatherapy and soft drinks.”

  “I remember that!” K recalled his PDO Compound injection more than twenty years ago. “They repeatedly asked me whether I would like the Recuperation Package, which could be deducted from my compensation. Even after I had granted them my life, they were still trying to make money off me.”

  “You hate the PDO to its core, don’t you?” Diana glanced at the suddenly high-spirited K and couldn’t help but laugh. “Anyway, I’m a bit worried this room is too crude. It probably scares you.”

  The makeshift lab was located at the center of the factory. On the side of the operating table were the usual syringes and medical tape. Set off a bit further was equipment that looked like modules of a robotic arm. On the wall opposite were piled cartons of all sizes and cardboard boxes covered in what looked like ash.

  “All of you were PDO. Why would you choose to do what you’re doing now?”

  “You mean engineering antibodies to resist the PDO Compound?” Diana paused, walked to the stacked instruments, and lit a cigarette. The sunset afterglow from the high windows filtered in. K watched the last of the sun’s warmth reflect off Diana’s red lips. K knew he had seen that shade of red before.

  “When I was PDO, not only did I have to administer the PDO Compound injections, but I also had to administer euthanasia. I had to poison every applicant who came to me. The number of people who died by my hand would make the most horrible serial killer bow before me.” Diana dragged deeply on her cigarette. “And that was my legal right and responsibility according to PDO regulations. But who would want that fucking right? Who would want to go to work every day and kill people one needle at a time—then have to do it with a smile? Would you want that job, Mr. Li?”

  K stared at Diana. He had no idea how to answer the question. He had never done a legit job in his life. He had grown up in the casinos as just another thug beating up people who couldn’t pay their debts. Then he applied for PDO.

  “The worst part was PDO didn’t allow anyone to resign. If you left, you would never find work again. Mr. Li, those people at the Application Center, those people always adding ‘sir’ at the end of every sentence, forcing you to say, ‘I confirm’—those people were after your life.”

  “So now you synthesize antibodies to make amends . . . ”

  “That’s Ikai and Zhang Heng’s work.” Diana pinched the butt of her cigarette and spit out one last plume of smoke. “Perhaps they suffered a deeper torture. They were at the core of the PDO—”

  “Senior Pharmacology Consultant, right? I saw it on Zhang Heng’s ID.”

  “His guilt ran deep. A while back, Zhang Heng was supposed to go with Shaji to Manila, where the Compound is manufactured. But Zhang Heng said he wanted to move to the dorm where all you upstarts were living, to be with you together. I sensed it was too dangerous but didn’t protest. Reflecting on it now, perhaps living in that place was what gave him his sense of urgency.” Diana crushed her cigarette. “I guess, he was good to you.”

  “Maybe the only friend I ever had. I never imagined I’d meet someone like that at the end, facing death.”

  “Your life might still be long.” Diana put a hand on K’s shoulder. Through his clothing, he felt an electric warmth transmit from her flesh to his. “You might not only live but save many others like you. You can end this era when people put their lives up for sale.”

  K was still thinking about how he should respond when the door burst open.

  “Our hero ready?” Chris marched in with a screen full of code in hand. He glanced at K and grinned. “Ready for resurrection?”

  “So . . . It’s really gonna be ok?” K turned to Chris, but Chris had walked to the back of the operating table. He was seated atop a pile of cartons again absorbed in his screens. The clattering of his keyboard brought the operating room back to life. K glanced at the IV. “Has the antibody injection started?”

  “Just basic tranquilizers and enzymes to assist the absorption of the antibodies. There’s one more step before injection of antibodies.” Diana shook her head toward Chris. “You know the PDO Compound is designed for genetic compatibility.”

  “Yes,” K said. “When I applied, the PDO rep mentioned it was for my safety.”

  “Since birth, all our genetic accounts are uniformly recorded, distributed, monitored, and managed. They record all our information and exclude all information that does not belong to us.” Diana pointed at the IV flowing into K’s body. “Antibodies can successfully inhibit the active ingredients in the PDO Compound in an experimental environment, but in your body, because the preparations have your genetic attributes, we must first write the parameters of the antibodies into your genetic account to ensure genetic compatibility.”

  “Parameters of the antibodies . . . genetic compatibility . . . ” K repeated what Diana said like a babbling child. Such thinking made him dizzy. He simply nodded. “You need to modify my genetic account?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I remember . . . the PDO rep said . . . ”

  “Retrieval and update of such data will require professional and compliant data replacement, as well as multiple authorizations by you personally . . . Was that the sentence?”

  “Something like it.” K nodded, embarrassed. It turned out the PDO already had written answers for every question he had asked. “But . . . who can do this?”

  “Data replacement.” Diana pointed to Chris then back to K. “Authorize and confirm.”

  “How do I . . . authorize?”

  Diana smiled. “If you confirm to begin implementing this application, Mr. K Li, please answer with a voice of no less than sixty decibels and confirm.”

  “Really . . . ” K looked at Diana and nodded. “The exact words of the people who designed it.”

  “Whether you’re a service rep in the PDO or a prostitute in the red-light district, work is just repetition.” Diana picked up the IV bag, from which the last bit of medicine she had prepared flowed. She squeezed in a fresh syringe. “That’s it.”

  “Whu . . . what?”

  The playfulness faded from Diana’s face. Her eyes became fierce and focused. She stared at K and spoke slowly: “Next, you may feel dizzy, which is normal. Do all you can to stay awake. Chris will need your voice to update your genetic account.”

  “Okay . . . ”

  “Chris will enter your genetic account information and implant the antibody sequence into it. During this period, you must clearly confirm each point requiring authorization. Do you understand?”

  “Understood . . . ”

  “Fear is normal. You haven’t been trained. Mr. Li, once the antibodies integrate into your genes, the PDO will detect abnormalities. You could soon face arrest, interrogation, detention . . . I don’t know whether you can cope with what comes next.”

  “Worst case is just death?” After listening, K smiled. “That’s completely acceptable for an upstart. I’d rather die for a reason than be just one more PDO euthanasia.”

  Diana looked into K’s eyes. “What do you feel?”

  “Dizzy . . . My body feels light . . . But it’s a comfortable lightness . . . ”

  “Stay awake and remember what I just said. You can end this era, Mr. Li. Though you’re a very different person from the one we originally agreed on, it’s up to you now. You must become our hero.”

  “Hero . . . ”

  “Yes, we need a hero. Can you do it, Mr. Li?”

  “I . . . ” The drug rolled in a cloud-like softness. K had suddenly escaped the pain haunting him these past weeks. He felt as though he were amidst a sea of stars, a titan shaping the early universe, illuminating the dark stars floating in that primal sea of darkness. A sound as soft as the night wind brushed his eardrums.

  “But can you do it, Mr. Li?”

  He felt Diana’s breath, the tapping of Chris’s keyboard, the dust floating through the factory. Everything in the universe seemed to be responding to him. He was the hero—adorned in flowers and armor. He nodded.

  “If you authorize to open genetic sequence source data extraction, please answer in a voice of no less than sixty decibels and confirm.”

  “I confirm.”

  “If you authorize to start genetic code replacement, please answer in a voice of no less than sixty decibels and confirm.”

  “I confirm.”

  “If you authorize to ignore the warnings of your genetic account, please answer in a voice of no less than sixty decibels and confirm.”

  “I confirm.”

  “If you authorize to start reprint loading, please answer in a voice of no less than sixty decibels and confirm.”

  “I confirm . . . ”

  “I confirm . . . ”

  “I confirm . . . ”

  K gripped these words like a sword in hand. He was the hero wielding that sword, fighting without hesitation or trepidation.

  “I confirm!”

  : What about the money? Will the money be transferred directly into my genetic account?

  : We automatically generate a sub-account in your genetic asset account to distribute compensation.

  : A sub-account?

  : Yes, because everyone’s initial genetic asset account is submitted to the central bank within seventy-two hours after birth, that lifelong binding cannot be altered. However, after the PDO Compound takes effect, your genetic information must be altered, requiring the generation of the sub-account. Both accounts will continue to represent your identity and will be completely under your control.

  : And the money in the sub-account is secure?

  : Although the sub-account is not as strictly controlled as the genetic asset account, it is also secure. Once the compensation enters your sub-account, it will load your PDO identification attributes, so that every cent is identified as yours across all global trading networks. This is all for your security, Mr. Li. Many PDO applicants’ living environment and social radius are not positive, therefore the sudden influx of large amounts of funds can pose a threat by criminals to their personal safety.

  : But might it also prevent me from spending money where I shouldn’t?

  : Understand that the PDO invests nearly three trillion in compensation funds every year. The World Bank requires us to supervise these funds to ensure they are not manipulated by illegal means.

  : You think I’m the kind of person who has illegal means?

  : Of course not, Mr. Li.

  “This is where you had to bring me?” A Xu shot a suspicious glance at K. “We shouldn’t have come here.”

  The table for two by the window was covered in a vintage red-and-white checkered tablecloth. Two hours prior, K had woken up in the operating room and said he had to go to this particular German restaurant in the city center and wanted to bring A Xu along. A Xu had trusted him that there was an important reason, but since they had squeezed into the crowded restaurant, K had hardly opened his mouth, instead focusing intently on the menu. They sat across from each other at the table, each with an untouched glass of lemonade.

  “Didn’t you hear Imai tell you the antibody won’t go into effect for eight hours, that nothing can go wrong during this time, that we cannot risk discovery by PDO? You’ve just injected the antibodies, so you should be resting.”

  “Didn’t Diana say that the PDO won’t find out until tomorrow at the earliest? She just asked you to look after me carefully. You’re looking after me now, aren’t you?” K replied, eyes fixed on the menu. “Besides, Diana and them are taking a lot more risk than me.”

  “They’re preparing to rescue my father.”

  Engrossed by the menu, K didn’t answer. Finally, his eyes paused toward the last page of the lengthy menu. His eyes narrowed and he raised his hand.

  The waiter approached with a smile.

  “Good evening, sir. The special today is Bavarian white sausage with pretzel.”

  “The Nuremberg sausage with stout set, please.” K pointed to the combo marked Chef’s Choice of the Month. “Give me two.”

  “Yes, sir,” the waiter nodded and continued. “The combo includes a ticket to the Space Park exhibition, but it seems today is the last day for the Caesar District tour. If you cannot attend, I can exchange it for—”

  “No, that’s why I came!” K closed the menu and looked up at A Xu. The retro chandelier above her glowed like a halo. “We can’t miss the last day.”

  “You . . . ” A Xu stared at K in surprise. “So, that’s why . . . ”

  “Didn’t your father promise to go with you? You haven’t forgotten?”

  “No, I didn’t forget.” A Xu lowered her head, as though she didn’t want K to see her face. She had wiped off that bright red lipstick that never suited her. Her oversized jean jacket was replaced with a satin baseball bomber Diana had gifted her. With its yellow daisy embroidery, it looked far more fitting for A Xu. “I’m just surprised . . . You remember such things.”

  “But I couldn’t help it. The Space Park is in Caesar District. My account can’t buy tickets directly for Caesar District, so I could only . . . ” K beamed, proud he had discovered this loophole. He hid his smile behind a sip of lemonade. His smile faded. “Despite the antibodies, I still don’t taste anything.”

  “Perhaps it doesn’t take effect so quickly.”

  “But I do feel better. Maybe life was too dull before. Now I finally found something to do, so everything is different.” He burst into unrestrained laughter.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20