Manny held up two fingers and spoke in surprisingly clear English, though with a Singaporean accent. Roen knew immediately then that there was more to Manny than it seemed. Not intimidated by Dylan’s size, the tiny Manny walked up to him and poked Dylan twice very hard in the chest. “That’s four times now I offered you my services as a friend, and four times you bring trouble with you. You cost me and my men money. And every time you promise to pay what’s owed, you scurry away just beyond trouble’s reach, leaving us with trouble and no money.”
“Well, Manny,” Dylan’s chuckle had a little hint of desperation in it. “Come now, you know it’s just circumstances, mate.”
“Don’t ‘mate’ me!” Manny spat. “You owe my men a lot of money. So pay up now, or I have my boys throw you off!”
As if on cue, the sailors of Imelda’s Song crowded toward Dylan, growling with outstretched hands as if a tide of zombies reaching to rend his flesh.
Dylan backpedaled and leaned into Roen. “I actually think he’s serious. And I thought we were friends, that bastard.”
“How much do you owe him?” Roen whispered.
Dylan shrugged. “I dunno. There was never any set amount. Just one of those bags-of-doubloons-at-the-end-of-the-rainbow sort of gentlemen deals. If I had to guess, maybe ten, fifteen thousand?”
Roen buried his head in both hands as the wave of sailors began to corral his men back toward the walkway. “Please tell me it’s in Philippine pesos,” he moaned.
Dylan laughed. “Not even the Filipinos trade in their own currency.”
These sailors meant business, and no amount of talking would get them out of this mess short of flashing some money.
“Tao, you know how far out we are at sea? Maybe we can swim to shore.”
You have the money. Stop being cheap and spend it.
“I hate you, Tao.”
Roen raised both hands and yelled out. “Captain, if I were to take care of Dylan’s debts, could we work something out?”
The wave of angry zombie sailors momentarily stopped. The ones who understood English began to chatter excitedly. They told the rest of the crew who didn’t and another wave of chatter and jeers erupted. Manny looked him up and down, studying him as if he were estimating how much money Roen actually had to his name.
“Dylan’s debt is no small matter,” he began. “Last I recall, adding the troubles and fees I’ve incurred from him, the amount lies at thirty thousand Australian dollars.”
Correction. You may have enough money. It depends on what Manny’s going exchange rate is for the Taiwanese dollar.
Roen didn’t bother masking his gasp and jerking his hand back as if he just saw a poisonous snake. He shot Dylan a look of death.
“Come now, Manny,” Roen used his be-reasonable sounding voice. “I want to do you right, but you have to level with me. Look, how about we square up a fair number for Dylan, and we move on to taking my men where we need to go.”
Captain Manny’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe we should discuss this in private.” He gestured at the closest door, and the sea of Filipino sailors parted ways.
That was an error. You just told him you have at least thirty thousand Australian and can offer more if needed.
“Well, what the hell else am I supposed to do?”
Now he will not even let you leave the ship until the amount that Dylan owes is paid, regardless whether you book passage or not.
“Watch them,” Manny said as he followed Roen through the doors.
An hour and mostly broke later, Roen emerged from negotiations with Captain Manny to find the team lounging around a burning oil drum. Dylan was already drinking with a dozen of the sailors. He had made it a point to stop by the market on the way to the ship and purchase several cases of beer, which he was now using to buy the crew’s affection.
“Ho, Roen, how did it go?” Dylan asked, tossing him a can.
“I thought you said you were friends!” Roen snarled. “He took the shirt off my back! Hell, I’m negative. I have to pay him more when I get home.”
Master negotiator you are not.
“But we’re square, right?” Dylan said.
“Square and broke,” Roen grumbled. “First we’re heading to Manila then to Macau before we detour back to Kaohsiung Harbor. Our good Captain Manny said it would appear suspicious to venture off the ship’s manifest.”
“Alright then,” Dylan grinned. “We got a few days of R &R, let’s take advantage of it.”
THIRTY-FOUR
DEFEAT
The end game has begun for the Prophus. But like any dying and cornered animal, they are still dangerous. The Genjix’s purity of purpose is what continues to drive us forward.
With the success of ProGenesis so close, we aim to play gods once more, but this time, to our own kind. After millions of years of slow extinction, it is the Genjix who will save all Quasing. And as it has always been, we will choose who is worthy to procreate. After all, we are the future and this will be our world.
Zoras
It took Enzo two days after the disastrous ambush to get back into their camp. He and Palos carried a barely alive bodyguard with them. All three of them were half dead on their feet. Abhinav, the bodyguard, had lost a lot of blood from a leg wound and had to be carried the entire trip back. Enzo had initially had wanted to leave the man for dead, but Palos wouldn’t have it. He had lost enough men as it was, he said. Enzo reluctantly agreed. It would reflect well on him back at camp once news spread of his magnanimous nature.
Enzo helped Palos carry the semi-conscious man all the way back to the camp through the treacherous and unforgiving landscape. The first glimmer of light from the camp was such a welcome sight that his knees nearly buckled. If it wasn’t for his pride, he would have fallen mere steps away from the front gate. Support personnel ran out and took the three of them to the infirmary, where for the next hour, Enzo was poked and prodded like a specimen on a table.
Inside, Enzo seethed with anger and felt such intense shame that he could barely keep himself from attacking the doctors. This was his first defeat as commander, and he was not taking it well. Before, with the Scimitar, he did what had to be done. With the first few weeks in the camp, defending and surviving was itself a victory. And now, with the upper hand, better supplies, and superior numbers, he was soundly defeated and mocked by this Prophus Field Marshal.
There is no shame in losing a battle. All the great leaders in history had to lose before they became great.
“I had the numbers! The higher ground! The advantage! What could I have possibly done different?”
You were outmaneuvered. By the leader of the entire Prophus military, no less. Stephen has a brilliant tactical mind. His Quasing, Camr, was one of the first to bring us together. He is one the Genjix still respect, even if he is a betrayer.
An unclear and washed-out image of a cave popped into Enzo’s mind. There were strange and primitive trees just outside the cave entrance. Trees that Enzo had never seen before and knew no longer existed. Then, slowly, a shadow appeared to block out the sun, and in stepped the largest primate he had ever seen. It was three meters tall and seemed to take up the entire entrance. Enzo reared back, but the primate grabbed his foot. And then he felt a shock of recognition. Enzo snapped back to reality and found himself in the infirmary again with a slight headache. That had been a long memory. He touched the bottom of his nose and felt blood.