Emerson Fortier
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Chapter 51 - The Wisdom of Guo Gang
🕑 Added 2022-11-12 18:00:06 +0000 UTCYi Cao told the old man the story of his breakthrough while they sat sipping tea in the alcove at the back of Guo Gang’s library. For all that he’d told the story to Zihan only a handful of hours before, it felt good to examine the experience in the company of someone whose only interest in the story was to listen.
The old man was an excellent listener. He leaned forward at the gripping parts to squeeze Yi Cao’s knee, and sighed and shook his head when Yi Cao described the discussion he’d heard while strapped to the surgeon’s table waiting for his augments to be attached.
“So,” the old man said when the story was done, “you’re a proper cultivator now.”
Yi Cao shrugged uncomfortably and felt his eyes buzz in his skull. “Just of the first rank,” he said.
Guo Gang blew on his tea and waved away the steam that fogged the enormous lenses of his glasses. “Impressive speed for such a short time.” He said.
Yi Cao nodded.
“I suppose it is thanks to that Young Master of yours,” the old man said, “the one that took your oath above the home world. He the one pushing for your advancement?”
“He is.”
Guo Gang sipped from his tea and Yi Cao followed suit.
“Did you get a chance to read that book I gave you,” Guo Gang asked, “the, ah, one with that mouthful of a name, on soul oaths?”
“I did.” He blew on his own cup of tea and watched the steam rise to fog the lenses of his artificial eyes while fields beyond his understanding wiped them clean. “It was… useful,” Yi Cao went on, “to understand what I’d gotten myself into.” He took another sip. “I understand now why soul oaths are so unpopular among the elders. We are more tied together than I thought.”
“Ahhh.” The old man bobbed his head. “You would know better than I would.”
A companionable silence fell over them as they both sipped from their tea.
“You will continue in this young man’s service then?” Guo Gang asked after some time.
Yi Cao lifted a hand. When he ordered the fingers to clap open and shut it wasn’t his order, but Bo Bo’s, relayed to the hand, that made the digits move. They pinged like bells each time they struck the brass plating over the palm of his hand.
He said nothing, but Guo Gang nodded all the same. “I am sorry,” he said, “for what you’ve lost.”
Yi Cao carefully cupped his metal hand around the bottom of his cup. He knew, thanks to the sensors in his hands, that it was warm, but he felt none of that warmth in his hands.
“Something lost, something gained.” Yi Cao said. He looked up at the old man and smiled. “Would you like to see what I can do now, as a cultivator?”
Guo Gang’s eyes went wide. “Not if it endangers my books!”
Yi Cao shook his head. “No danger.” He replied.
The old man gestured with his cup. “Then go ahead.”
Yi Cao shifted the source at his neck and felt the Ki bubbling into him again. Careful to keep it from manifesting in a sphere around him, Yi Cao let a bit of it trick out of his chest while commanding it to let him see. Lenses popped into existence around him, pulling texts and open pages closer across the entire hall. With a mental push, Yi Cao swung some of them so that the old man could see and Guo Gang’s eyes went wide behind his glasses.
“Ah.” He pulled off his glasses and wiped at them before putting them back on. “Ah. Oh my.”
Yi Cao let the technique drop and shifted the source off of the key scripture on his chest.
“I might not be able to fit in, back on the family farm,” Yi Cao said, “but, thanks to Zihan,” he looked at one metal hand and clapped the fingers again, “I’m something more, than I was. Even if I’ve become less.”
Guo Gang was silent for several moments afterward. He gazed speculatively at his collection of books while steam rose from the mug cupped in his hand.
Yi Cao sipped from his own cup and the old man jumped as he emerged from his reverie. He grunted, then took a sip and set his cup aside.
“I hate to see the next generation abandoning their home world,” he said as he pushed himself from his seat, “but in your case, I suppose, it is an understandable departure.”
Yi Cao didn’t say anything to agree, just sipped his tea while he watched the old man hobbled between book shelves until he found what he was looking for.
“Technomancy is a vile artifice if you ask me,” the old man said, “This world is a testament to the wonders it can do with steel and stone, but what it makes with flesh is an abomination.”
He pulled several books from the shelf and stacked them in his arms, then puttered through a few more shelves. “I don’t like to carry these texts, but, ah,” he added one more from another shelf before he approached his desk, “there are those who need them, and I discourage the casual crowd by making them expensive.” The stack of books made a healthy thud as they landed on the desk. The old man patted them, as though petting a dog, then ran a hand over the cloth cover of the top most text. “Seen too many youngsters forsake their heritage for the promises of the surgeons. Wouldn’t even recognize some of them as human, anymore.”
Yi Cao set down his cup and went to join the old man over the stack of texts.
“Scriptures,” Guo Gang said, pointing to some of the books, “Manuals, Technical Guides. These all deal with integrating cultivation into your augments. Some of them might be less relevant, this one, for example,” he tapped a text labeled On the Augmentation of the Races #119847, “Is a sort of primer on augmentations for all four races on the station and common complications. Something the Governor amalgamated from surgical information brokers. I got it from an estate sale after its previous owner died. Succumbed to some kind of rust, or fungus or something.”
Yi Cao flipped it to a page at random and read - “In the augmentation of Kispuhru races, where possible, it is always advisable to consult the Matriarch or the works of the Matriarch responsible for their creation in the first place. Among common races whose anatomy, lineage, and gifts have been well documented by the covens are Ogres, Vodyanoi, and three distinct races of Pixie, of secondary reliability are reports on the inner anatomy as recorded by those surgeons responsible for the examination of such races upon their sale or recruitment into station service such as those compiled regarding the goat-men and the so called Emmissaries. Where races lack sufficient documentation a finders fee of forty thousand credits is offered for the report of relevant anatomical variations or the results of various augmentations, however, in all cases where such subjects bear the seven horned mark, such specimens should reported to the Governor or disposed of via Euthenasia lest the madness come upon them while you work.”
Yi Cao closed the book and stood looking at it while Guo Gang adjusted his glasses.
“These are expensive, like I said, so I’ll let you sort through and decide which to keep and which to leave behind.”
“I’ll take all of them.” Yi Cao replied.
Guo Gang’s eyebrows climbed above the rims of his massive spectacles. “Will you?” He asked.
Yi Cao nodded then pulled out Zihan’s card and showed it to the old man.
“Ah.” The old man took the card then raised his eyebrows again when he saw the numbers projected on the side of the card. “Not so poor now, I see.”
“Zihan’s.” Yi Cao told him.
The old man nodded, but tapped the card against one finger contemplatively for a moment before turning to Yi Cao. “Well, why don’t I sell you one or two of these for now,” he said, “then when you finish those, if this Zihan still wishes you to advance, he can send you here again to see me, or come himself. I would like to meet the young man who saves another boy’s life only to drag him away from his world.”
Yi Cao grimaced and shook his head. “We’ll be leaving soon,” he said. “I’d like to take them all with me.”
“Ah.” The old man bobbed his head. “I see. I see. I can charge you now then.” He fiddled with something on his desk, then touched the card to it, and watched the numbers scroll down. “Back to the home world?”
Yi Cao felt his oath twinge in his guts. He shook his head. “I can’t say.” After a moment, he thought of Zihan’s order to find things that might be useful once they reached their destination and smiled. “But if you have anything on Mubra,” he said, “I’d be interested in taking a look at it.”
“Ah.” The old man shook his head, crestfallen. “Mubra.” He said. He stroked his beard and considered hi library. “Mubra is not a safe place, as I have heard. A spirit runs the world, an artificial one, and as I’ve heard, a very jealous one. It’s why the guild suppresses such spirits. Why this place,” he ran a finger around the room to indicate the whole station, “is so run down.”
He turned to Yi Cao, eyes magnified by his enormous glasses. “I have heard of cultivators going there before, but i have never heard of them leaving.”
Yi Cao pulled the subspace wallet out of his shirt and fiddled with the controls until he had it open. “Not my choice,” he said.
“Ah.” The old man nodded. “This reckless Young Master of yours.” He dallied studied his shelves of books while Yi Cao pushed the stack he’d just purchased into the wallet one at a time.
“If your Young Master can be convinced I would change the destination he has in mind.”
Yi Cao smiled thinly. “You said the same thing about Te’klub.”
The old man returned his smile. “I suppose I did. Ah.” He shook his head again. “The worlds are a dangerous place, according to all accounts. Even home. Even here, but at least here the dangers are known, and at home there is Ki to make up for them.”
Yi Cao pushed the last book into the wallet and lingered with the subspace open to its inner void. “I was almost killed, getting away from there. I’m not sure what would be waiting for us, if we returned.”
“Ah well.” The old man sighed. “This old man can try. Let me see what I have.”
He puttered through the shelves and eventually returned with a small stack of books on technomancer lore. “Propaganda, almost universally,” he said as Yi Cao handed him the card, “but there is truth even where the Governor has encouraged its people to lie about the place they came from.”
“What sort of lies?” Yi Cao asked as he handed over his card.
“The same sort the Crimson Star promotes regarding the Black Blood, although,” he added as he finished dialing down the numbers on the card, “I think I believe most of those.”
He handed the card back and helped Yi Cao stuff the histories into his sub-space wallet.
“Expensive toy.” He remarked.
Yi Cao nodded and stuff it back into his shirt.
The two stood at the old man’s desk for several moments in silence.
“I suppose this is goodbye.” Yi Cao told him. He began to bow, but the old man stopped him by bowing first.
“This old man thanks you for treating him like family,” he said. He peeled off his glasses and rubbed at them with the hem of his robes. “You can’t know what it’s like to grow old, and lonely, in a dead world.” He popped his glasses back on and sniffed. “This Guo Gang thanks honored customer for sharing tea with him.”
Yi Cao completed his bow slowly and waited for his eyes to re-adjust after he straightened. “This Yi Cao thanks grandfather for making him feel welcome.”
Guo Gang put one hand to Yi Cao’s arm and squeezed hard as he ushered Yi Cao to the door. “Heavens favor you Yi Cao. Heavens favor you.”
The smell of piss seemed even stronger as Yi Cao emerged from the sanitary silence of the library into the thrum of whirling blades at the end of the hall. A heaviness accompanied him as he limped to the end of the hall and found the girls sitting at the spice cake booth just beyond.
“Took you long enough.” Kalemal told him as he emerged.
Yi Cao looked at her but didn’t respond until he’d navigated the shift in gravity that dropped him onto the concourse level with her. He paced to the booth and nodded in greeting to the girl who’d first directed him to the Library, sitting in a chair behind her grandfather with the crystal construct in her hand.
“Had to say goodbye.”
Bealtiel nodded. “Always hard to say goodbye.”
Kalemal rolled her eyes. “Still could’ve been faster.” She waved to the old man working at the stand and jerked her head in Yi Cao’s direction. “He’s paying,” she said.
Yi Cao pulled out Zihan’s card and handed it over without protest.
“Where to next?” Bealtiel asked as they left the spice cake booth and meandered down the hall towards the next concourse a hundred yards above them.
“I don’t know.” Yi Cao replied. “Zihan wanted something from Kispuhru while we were here. Would you recommend a place?”
“If he’s looking for cursed aphrodisiacs, I know a place.” Kal replied.
Bealtiel gave her a look but Yi Cao shrugged. “Why don’t we start there.”
Kalemal skipped up to take his arm while Bealtiel trailed along behind. The blonde grinned and gestured towards the mouth of the concourse above them. “Follow me.”
Above them, on a floor that should have been a ceiling in any sane world, a man in the light blue uniform of a security agency, set down the cup of tea he’d been drinking at one of the traveling stalls, straightened his mustache and stood. He kept his eyes on the trio above him as he followed, and his hand on the sword at his waist in its sheath.
