Time Off, Part Five

Two soldiers in cord-and-plaque armor, their queues immaculate, marched in unison to a deep, rhythmic drumbeat on either side of the long rosewood table. The litter between them cradled an ornate silver tureen, filigreed with the slender, graceful loops of dragons in flight. The other tables and chairs in the restaurant were stacked in balanced rows on the opposite walls.

With a tap of Hi Pan’s long, black finger nail, the drumming stopped . The tureen lowered to rest in front of Katrina. Gold, dressed in a green pien fu, floated to the table, bowed low, and with a flourish removed the lid. Katrina, engulfed in a steamy wave of anise, chrysanthemum, and ginger indicated her thanks to Gold with a shallow nod, her brows arched in mild surprise.

Now you’re serving me soup? Katrina taunted Gold with a smile. Gold’s eyes narrowed and her hand clenched around the handle of the lid.

Everything alright over there? Katrina thought with a glance to the corner, where a hasty card table had been set up where Drifter -- in the form of a thin, pasty man with a bald head and wild patches of hair behind his ears, sat uncomfortably. He clutched his briefcase to his chest, carefully arranging a trio of crystals around his place setting.

They gave me a fork. Drifters thoughts resonated through her head like the drums.

Katrina glanced down to her porcelain spoon, gilt in gold and red meander in its matching rest and gleaming brass chopsticks etched with delicate characters.

Oh.

And a paper napkin. I’m beginning to think this fella doesn’t like me.

You don’t have anything he wants.

And what does he want from you?

Always a good question when dealing with Hi Pan.

Based on those couple dozen guys in the kitchen, he wants your blood.

Katrina had spotted the kitchen door when she had come in. Of course Hi Pan had positioned her seat so it faced away from the kitchen.

Sounds about right. With a word, maybe not even a word, Katrina would be between in between Hi Pan and Iron on one side, Gold and Hi Pan’s warriors on the other.

“It is not easy, to re-establish the feng-shui of the room with our unannounced guest,” Hi Pan said, “but we are, among other things, accommodating.”

Katrina pasted on a smile. “I am most grateful. I think you can understand how foolish I would be if I had visited with the great Hi Pan, as unversed in the mysteries as I am, without some sort of ---”

“Protection?” Hi Pan asked with small titter.

“Naturally.”

“Why you must see yourself as a mouse in the talons of the hawk! Of course I can understand your prudence. But all you could find was him?”

“Given more notice, I’m sure many mystics, even the Doctors themselves, would have been honored, but alas, they are indisposed. Besides that would require paperwork, and based on the invitation, I felt discretion was in order.”

“Your discretion, Sergeant Mirinova, is always appreciated. Where did you say Mr. Hendrix was from?”

“Here and there,” Drifter/Hendrix said, “see, I’m--”

“Now Jim,” Katrina said, as if addressing a child, “I am grateful for your assistance,but remember what we agreed to. Only speak when you are addressed directly in the presence of Hi Pan.” she smiled to Hi Pan. “My apologies. He’s from our Spokane Office. ”

I’m thinking you’re enjoyin’ this arrangement a bit much. Drifter’s thoughts wafted sullen in her mind.

And you can’t talk without sounding like a high-caliber mystic. If Hi Pan even suspects the kind of talent that you are -- just eat your Lucky Sumo Bowl.

Not sure I’m going to cotton on anything from the kids menu. The fish cake is shaped like --
Katrina tore her attention away from Drifter. “This soup is more art than cuisine, Hi Pan. You have truly outdone anything on your already amazing menu.”

Hi Pan’s tureen, a mighty bronze bowl with silver filigree floated through the air guided by his taloned hand. Iron, close to Hi Pan’s side, ducked at it swooped across the table to land neatly in front of Hi Pan, the lid floating straight upward to a flourish of steam. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Hi Pan gushed. “Most snake soups are made with two, maybe three types of snake, but I have made this with Chinese Python, Tri-rope Beauty Snake, Rat Snake, and the Hundred-Paced Viper! Do you know how hard it is to find Hundred-Paced Viper? Why Vipers of any sort are scarce these days.” He seized his chopsticks and spoon as weapons. “Shall we?”

The noodles were thick udon that she cut with her spoon to layer it as a base with some pink flesh on to, surrounded by a small lake of broth.

Poison? She thought to Drifter.

First you fret about livin’ forever and then fret about dyin’. No, it ain’t poisoned.

Katrina ate a spoonful and chewed thoughtfully. Years ago, Nick had to all but beg her to go, and Katrina conceded it was the best noodle house in the city, despite its criminal owner. I’d decided to keep him then, Katrina thought with a look to where ‘their table’ had been.

“And?” Hi Pan asked, leaning forward, his hands holding on to his tureen, a gleam in his eye, that yanked Katrina from reverie.

Katrina swallowed. “Exquisite. I’ve never had anything like it,” Hi Pan’s glee at her appreciation made her uneasy. “I had no idea that VIPER was becoming harder to find.” She made a mental note to check in with Project Snakecharmer when she returned to see if they had noticed any movement.

“And here I thought UNTIL spent its time studying snakes. Perhaps they have slithered off to clean up their mess in Montana?” Hi Pan asked with a knowing pause.

“I am always amazed how well informed you are, Hi Pan. But secrets are a secondary currency in the high end escort trade, no?”

“All kinds of creatures enjoy warmth and companionship, whether they are snakes or soldiers.”

Katrina used several more bites to think, enjoy the soup, and let Hi Pan stew for a bit. The Mad Magician of Westside knew more than she’d thought he did. If the leak was in UNTIL, she’d have to let Clay’s office know. But the soldiers Hi Pan hinted at could be PRIMUS, too. That meant looping Kutter in.

At her sixth spoonful of rich snake with firm noodles, Hi Pan drummed his nails. When he spoke, his voice was brittle with impatience. “I’m so glad you are enjoying the soup.”

Katrina noisily inhaled a noodle before speaking. “Thank you, I am. It is a shame about the VIPER, being scarce. They’re not known for cleaning up their own messes, though. If they are leaving, its because what happened in Montana could happen here in Millenium City.”

Hi Pan’s expression of boredom melted away. “What happened in Montana made a mountain tremble. So the snakes aren’t leaving, they’re running away.”

“That would be my guess. Seems someone took their toys in Montana and aims to bring them here.”

Drifter’s thoughts pressed against her will. Seems like you’re being a might forthcoming to this scumbag.

Hi Pan wants to rule the world, starting with Millennium City. Can’t rule a crater.

Hmm y’might have a point.

“Those that steal from VIPER are not known for their long lives. Any idea who these walking corpses are?”

“Names have been thrown around,” Katrina said, plucking at her noodles.

“What names?”

Katrina paused for another bit of soup. “If I shared, you’d be able to use their unfortunate position with VIPER as leverage.”

Hi Pan steepled his fingers. “Very astute of you, Ms Mirinova.”

“In essence, they become yours. Unless I get them first. So, if you were to know who has recently been in contact with them--”

His smile tightened. “Then their employer is yours.”

“You gain potential mercenaries and I gain their boss -- seems a reasonable enough trade.”

“Except that am now an UNTIL informant,” Hi Pan said with a flourish of his chopstick. “It is not a reputation I desire, but I’m sure we can come to an accord.”

I’m guessin he’s fixing to make sure you don’t be alive long enough to use what he’s telling you.

In that case, I hope he’s over confident enough to tell me everything.

“I hope we can. I’ve got two suspects. One is Blowtorch.”

Hi Pan scowled. “That psychopath? He should have stuck to burning warehouses. I prefer my enforcers more discreet. However, considering how obsessed with revenge his employer is -- so angry over a stepmother. He must be purple with range!”

Katrina forced herself to hide her annoyance Hi Pan and his riddles. Millennium City is full revenge-happy children -- and purple? Purple Gang? Poe nearly wipe out PSI -- but Medusa is already dead, isn’t she? Or is she? Could Poe have done all this to finally wipe PSI off the map?

Katrina tried to convey only mild interest as she sat back in the chair. “And how is Kevin Poe these days?”

Hi Pan’s smile sliced across the table. “He and I have an accord, and he seems to have little interest in ruling Westside these days. Not that he hasn’t been busy. The Purples have been frantic as of late, looking for, among others, Blowtorch. Perhaps the other name you’d have for me is Scimitar? I have heard his skills are rival to Iron and Gold’s.”

Better. Katrina thought, with barely a glance toward the pair. With a sword just as deadly. “That name has come up.”

“Well then! Now that I have confirmed their involvement, I have leverage against Blowtorch, Scimitar and Kevin Poe! Now, his Purple Gang will do my bidding!” Hi Pan rose in triumph. “I do hope you enjoyed your last meal, Katrina Mirinova. Iron, dispose of her tedious crystal hugger. Gold, you --”

Iron’s surprised yawp carried through the room as drift and the card table simply melted and the Lucky Sumo Bowl fell to the floor with a crash.

Time for us to be going, Kat

Thanks, I’ll see myself out. Katrina thought back and while everyone was looking back, whirled her chair around, hefting the soup tureen. The kitchen door sprung open, a chef hurling his cleaver with a yell. Katrina twisted, ricocheting the cleaver off the tureen to send it flying toward Hi Pan. Gold slapped the it out of the way with a contemptuous swipe of her blade, but Katrina had already hurled the tureen toward the chef, catching him in the chest. The chef staggered back against his fellows and back through the kitchen door.

She snatched up the chopsticks in one hand, and seized the back of her chair with the other. She hurled the chair toward Iron, not looking to see if it hit him as she leapt to the kitchen door, kicking it hard enough to slam the cook trying to get through it backward.

Drifter hadn’t been kidding. At least two dozen chefs with cleavers rushed forward with a howl. With a quick glance, she had their positions, and knew how they’d move, operating as a pack. The first she flung behind her, toward the door to slow down Iron and Gold. She parried a cleaver with both chopsticks in one hand, and followed up with a quick punch the weilder’s throat. She kicked a pot off a stove, sending a wave of boiling broth in front, forcing them back. They circled as Katrina twirled the chopsticks in her fingers. The kitchen door burst open, Gold slipped in first, then Iron. The chefs rushed, clearly not wanting to seem cowards in front of Iron and Gold. Katrina bent back to avoid a slashing cleaver, and lunged with the chopsticks, catching him in the armpit. His grip on the cleaver went slack. Katrina snatched it out of the air and she flung it back at Gold, embedding it in the wall as a lock of onyx hair slid from Gold’s shoulder. Gold glanced down at the hair and seethed.

Katrina sensed Iron’s rush, kicked back at two more chefs, then twisted, using the chopsticks and her grip on his arm to force him between her and Iron. The chef struggled until she head butted him. Stunned, he stared at her, glassy eyed until Iron’s sword split him from head to sternum, the tip biting into Katrina’s shoulder.

She shoved the corpse back against Iron. “You asshole. He was on your side.”

A change in the feel of the room was enough for Katrina to crouch down as the wall between the kitchen and dining room exploded inward. Hi Pan floated off the floor suspended by a crawling arcs of lightning.

“Foolish girl, I have wasted enough time with you. Now you shall taste the fury of the storms!!”

Two of the crawling arcs surged forward, blasting through the bags of rice Katrina used as cover. She spun, skidding under a table so low she barely had height to turn herself over. The table shuddered under the barrage of lightning. Her exit from beneath the table was cut off by a twisting bolt of lightning. She saw Iron kneel down his sword in both hands. The metal table burned her back as she pressed upward. She could see the lettering on Iron’s blade as it slide beneath her.

Time’s a wastin’ Kat.

A little busy, Drifter. I’m being chased by lightning.

Get close to metal. Lightning likes to go to ground.

Glowing amber drops of melting table burned blackened pits into the floor. Her shelter underneath had become an oven. Not working. It seems to think I’m ground. Katrina slithered to the other end only to have her escape cut off by the flash of Gold’s blade.

Oh, that kind of lightnin. Wonder how it knows you. Need help?

There’s only one way it could know me. Thanks, you’ve already helped. Katrina took a chopstick in each hand and flicked them simultaneously out from under the table. One slid under Gold’s pien fu. The other was stopped by a hard stomp from Iron’s boot.

The bolts coalesced into a brilliant flash. Iron and Gold pair fell in heaps. Katrina scrambled from beneath the warped table that ticked as it cooled. Hi Pan was gone. She knelt next to Gold's form, satisfied that she still had a pulse. Fuck Iron, she thought with a glance to his steaming armor.

What remained of Hi Pan’s force remained backed up against the freezer.

“I didn’t get a fortune cookie,” Katrina said, retrieving a cleaver for each hand and pacing in front of them.

They dropped their weapons.

“I want,” Katrina shouted, “My goddamned cookie.” She scanned the floor for a crumpled tin and picked a few packets until she found one more cookie than powder. “You tell Hi Pan that he’s getting a shitty yelp review.” Katrina shoved her way out the back exit.

Drifter huddled in his duster by the dumpster. “I hope the soup was worth it.”

“The information was. Let's go see Valravn.”

“Already did,” Drifter said, “And not meaning to sound too much like a doctor, I think she needs a specialist.”

“I’ve talked to the Norse at Sheras. Bunch of fucking dimwits--”

“You know, you’re hardly gonna win many friends with all that damn swearing. No, I mean a specialist in ravens. Ravenspeaker.”

“Huh. That actually makes sense.” Katrina tested her shoulder, wincing. “So we’re going to go talk to him?”

“Seems as good as place as any. Drifter nodded to her shoulder. “Want any help with that? You got a bit o’ blood there.” Then to her leg. “N’ there.”

“Most of its not mine. I’ll heal.” Katrina opened the fortune cookie, surprised at how fresh the shards of cookie tasted. She carefully teased apart the fortune.

Your victory means nothing, Mirinova

Scimitar will chop you to pieces, and you will hang

by hooks in the hell of a thousand torments for all eternity!

Katrina wadded up the paper and stuffed it in her pocket.

“I never take any stock in them things,” Drifter said.

“It's a shitty haiku anyway. Let's go.”