The Rising Sea (NUMA Files 15)

Zhang stood rigid, holding his ground.

Finally, Wen turned away. He walked to a small table and sat down. Another half-finished game of Go was arranged on the table. Wen reached into the pot and pulled out a black stone.

“Hands where I can see them, Lao-shi.”

“Are you arresting me?” Wen asked.

“That depends on what Walter Han is up to in Japan,” Zhang said. “And on his connection with the mining disaster at the Serpent’s Jaw.”

“Ah . . .” Wen said. “So you know a thing or two.” He turned his full attention to the game board and refused to honor Zhang with another glance. He pointed a bony finger toward the television screen. “Watch the news,” he said. “Soon you will see.”

57

NAGASAKI PREFECTURE

KURT AND JOE emerged from the water on a stony beach. Tossing their fins aside, they raced across the beach like competitors in a triathlon. The similarity ended when they smashed the window of a car, silenced the alarm and hot-wired it in record time.

Speeding down the coastal road, Kurt stated the obvious. “We need to get to the Friendship Pavilion before the signing ceremony.”

“We could go to the police,” Joe suggested.

“And tell them what?” Kurt asked. “Robots that look exactly like us are going to shoot the Prime Minister? The truth will get us sedated and put in a hospital for the delusional.”

“At least it would give us an alibi,” Joe suggested. “We can hardly have assassinated the Prime Minister if we were being medicated in a psych ward at the time.”

“That won’t save the Prime Minister or implicate Han,” Kurt said. “And I intend to do both.”

“How?”

“Catching him in the act. Ripping the masks off those robots in front of the TV cameras.”

“Great idea,” Joe said. “But if we’re one minute late . . .”

“I know,” Kurt said, changing gears and charging through the traffic. “We’ll have played right into his hands one more time.”

A mile down the road, Kurt pulled over in front of a store that had yet to open for the day. He and Joe broke in and rummaged through the clothes on the rack. Grabbing some items, they raced out and drove off.

“We’re a regular two-man crime wave,” Joe said. “We’ve stolen a boat, a car and clothes all in the last twenty-four hours. If this keeps up, Nagano will be right to

claim it’s the foreigners doing all the lawbreaking in Japan.”

“Let’s hope he gets the chance.”

Kurt drove on until the traffic became impassable. The area near the pavilion was packed with visitors, members of the media and security teams. Every road Kurt turned down was either mired in gridlock or cordoned off.

“Ditch the car,” Joe suggested. “We’ll go on foot.”

Kurt parked and the two of them got out and ran. Soon they were queuing up with the crowd and then passing through a metal detector before entering the pavilion.

“Wonder how the robots managed that?” Joe whispered.

“Probably came in the back door,” Kurt said. “Betting Nagano’s ID came in handy for that.”

“Where do you think we’ll find them?”

“Not sure about the others,” Kurt said, “but my duplicate will be front and center at the signing, so the whole world will have a perfect view of the action. The others will probably be arranged along an escape route. The real question is, how do we stop them? They’re a lot stronger than us and basically bulletproof.”

Joe gave him a brief smile. “I’ve been wrestling with that question ever since I saw you wrestling with yourself, and losing.”