E = mc²

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Part 1
Page 18
 

    Shujuan took desk duty from the end of lunch until closing time, long after sundown when the last day workers had come home and finally stopped calling for emergency dinner supplies, and the night shift men no longer rang up for coffee. Guonan was the last to arrive, rattling home from the bicycle graveyard with a new, or at least newer, chain, to find his boss with the office floor cleared in the center setting to work attaching a new front wheel.
    "Hurry in and shut the door," she ordered, looking up.
    "I was gonna do it for you..." Guonan began.
    "Like I need you to fix my bike for me. Get in and close up before the stray ca-- Oh no," she managed, as a fuzzy tabbied head poked its way through the open doorway, seeking a bit of meager warmth from the cold night. Shujuan dropped the wrench and immediately covered her nose. "Get that out of here! Now!"
    "Wha-- Bu--"
    He was interrupted by a violent sneeze. "GET IT OUT!" Shujuan roared.
    Guonan scrambled, suddenly frantic. He kicked the cat off onto the porch and slammed the door after him. And wedged his bike against it as an extra precaution. It wasn't like they were going out again tonight anyway.
    An idea struck him.
    "How'd that guy know you were allergic to cats, anyway?"
    "How the hell should I know," the girl mumbled, voice still muffled by the hands over her face. "Gimme your shirt."
    "Ew, no!"
    "Yeah, I'm not lookin' forward to what I'll get infected with either, you walking goober. Jus' get over here."
    "Wenlonnnng!" Guonan wailed as she tried to grab at him. "Shu-rin's trying to get her diseases on me!"
    "Did you bring another cat in?" came the answer from the back room.
    "Yeah, but--"
    "Then it's your own fault," the boy concluded happily. Somewhere back there with him, Jianmin started snickering. "Suffer it for the good of the empire, Guonan."
    "That's not helping!" the orphan cried.
    Eventually, after a lot more screaming, Wenlong came out offering a tissue. Accompanied by the money box. He let Jianmin carry the record book.
    Shujuan finished tightening the last nut of the wheel and set her own bike to the side, clattering up against the others on the far wall while they cleared away the tools to get to work. The space in the middle of their losely-defined circle became a pile of assorted coins and notes, all crumpled and dirty, except for the bank-crisp 100 RMB bill that floated down on the top of the heap.
    For a moment, the other boys just stared at it, as though puzzling over whether their eyes were just playing tricks on them.
    "Shujuan," Wenlong said slowly. "You'll have to get that changed. We can't split that."
    "Jin can do it?"
    "Just don't get shorted," Jianmin, between sips of his beer. "You know the fucker don't play fair. Check it all 'fore you leave."
    "Duh. Not all of us our morons, pinhead."
    "It's very weird," Wensley said a bit more contemplatively, holding the note up to the light. "It might be small for him, but not many rich people deal in cash these days, you know?"
    "I know; that got me too," Shujuan told him. "He wasn't uncomfortable with it or anythin'. Seemed all natural. Like he was used to it."
    "Mafia man?" Guonan guessed beside her.
    "No," the girl said at once.
    "Now, we don't know that yet," Wenlong said, adjusting his glasses as he returned the note to the pile and brought up his pad of paper and a pencil. "I still need to do a bit more checking, but I don't think my books at home would have anything."
    "I didn't find anything in mine either. But I din't even know what to look for."
    "I dunno either," the boy admitted. "I guess we have to go bigger. But we don't have time till Tuesday. Still, I mean... Y'gotta wonder..."
    "The eyes," said the blonde abruptly, laying the subject flat, like a card hand.
    Wenlong looked uncomfortable with it, about as she expected. He hadn't wanted to let on about this. He usually didn't like letting on about a lot of things. "Yeah. Didja notice the other guy had them too? Sort of... washed out, like, drained?"
    He shifted, finding their gazes on him, the attentive looks of children listening in to the start of what they anticipated to be a good story. What was he, a teacher? "Did you get the feel, looking at 'em, being around 'em, like they're real older than they look?"
    "But they are old," Guonan objected. "They're adults n' everythin'."
    "No, older than that. Like way, way older. It's only in the eyes. You look there and you kinda see, even after everything, they look old, and tired." Wenlong bowed his head a little, trying and failing to concentrate on the numbers he'd started scribbling, now that he'd gotten this stuck in his brain. "...Like their souls've been stretched out," he said at last, defeated.
    "D'you think..." Shujuan began.
    "It's not natural, I'm just sayin'. I mean-- it's just stuff in books, but--"
    "But what?" Jian persisted, nudging his shoulder. "We don' care. Jus' say it."
    "It's hard to talk about!" Wenlong managed desperately. "How'm I 'sposed to go on about mythos and genetics and experimental science around you peop--" He stopped, too late, realizing the words coming out of his mouth.
    "Yo," his boyfriend said, gentler this time, "knowin' stuff ain't anythin' to kick yerself over. Brains're meant to help people, yeah?"
    "...But I didn't mean..."
    And suddenly Wenlong's eyes had locked on Shujuan's.
    "We're stupid," she told him flatly. "You're not. We know it. So cut it out. I wouldn't ask if we could've done elsewise."
    He could barely keep the gaze. His eyes kept daring to twitch away, and he had no idea why. It wasn't something he'd experienced before in his life, or at least for a good many years. Those two men that kept showing up with their eyes drained and gray, they wore their age and their fatigue plainly, and there was none of that lack of color here with Shu-rin. If anything, hers were way too intense for any natural creature. It got scary, even though he'd never make the mistake of saying it to her face.
    But just for a moment, right then, right before his resolve broke down and he pulled his gaze away, they looked much older than anything else he'd ever looked at. And far colder.
    "There's a theory," he said finally, staring at the floorboards. "And it has to do with magic."
 

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