14. Lighting the Abyss

The room where Solomon conducted his interrogations was not a dungeon. It was a medical bay, white and sterile, smelling of antiseptic and recycled air. The irony was not lost on Li Yun. He had been dragged through the rig's corridors by armed guards, past laboratories and server rooms and living quarters that spoke of wealth and power, only to end up in a place designed for healing.

They strapped him to a chair. Not with ropes or chains, but with thick canvas restraints that had been designed for violent patients. The chair itself was bolted to the floor, and the floor was steel, and the steel was cold against his bare feet. Someone had taken his boots.

Solomon entered a few minutes later, alone. The old man had changed his clothes. He now wore a medical coat over his linen suit, as if he intended to participate in whatever was about to happen. The pale eyes were still expressionless, but there was something in the set of his jaw that spoke of controlled fury.

"The coordinates, Mr. Li. The access codes. You have them, and I need them. This can be easy or difficult. The choice is yours."

Li Yun tested the restraints. They held firm. "You said you wanted to destroy the compound. You said you wanted Peter Changsun to face justice. Every word you spoke in that conference room was a lie."

"Not every word. I do want Peter Changsun to face justice. But justice, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. My justice involves him answering for his crimes against my company, my ships, my interests. The Changsun Group has been a thorn in my side for twenty years. I intend to remove that thorn."

"And the compound?"

"The compound is a weapon. I told you the truth about that. But I never said I wanted to destroy it. I said it must not fall into the wrong hands. My hands are not the wrong hands."

Li Yun stared at the old man. The logic was twisted, self-serving, the kind of reasoning that powerful men had always used to justify their actions. Peter Changsun had used the same logic. The Wu Prince's enemies had used it fifteen hundred years ago. It was the logic of empire, the logic of those who believed they were entitled to decide who lived and who died.

"You will never get the coordinates from me," Li Yun said.

"Everyone breaks eventually. I have been doing this for a very long time. I have broken men far stronger than you."

"Then why am I still alive? If you are so confident in your methods, why not start immediately?"

Solomon smiled. It was the same smile Peter Changsun had worn in the glass tower in Seattle, warm and empty and utterly assured. "Because I want you to understand the situation first. I want you to make an informed choice. That is the difference between me and Peter Changsun. He operated in the shadows. I operate in the light."

"There is no light in this place. You built a fortress in international waters where no law applies. You kidnapped us. You are holding us prisoner. That is not light. That is darkness."

"The law is whatever the powerful decide it is. You of all people should understand that. You were a lawyer. You saw how the system works. The Changsun Group used the law to destroy your family for fifteen centuries. I am offering you a chance to use the law to destroy them in return."

Li Yun felt the ember pulse. "What are you offering?"

"A partnership. Give me the coordinates. Help me secure the remaining samples. In return, I will give you everything you need to destroy the Changsun Group. Evidence, resources, legal support. Peter Changsun will face trial. His company will be dismantled. His legacy will be erased. You will have your justice."

"And the compound?"

"The compound will be kept safe. Studied. Developed. Not as a weapon, but as a medical treatment. The potential for good is enormous, Mr. Li. You heard what Peter Changsun said. The compound can cure diseases. It can extend life. It can change the world for the better. Destroying it would be a crime against humanity."

"It can also commit genocide."

"Any technology can be used for good or evil. The answer is not to destroy the technology. The answer is to ensure it is controlled by people of conscience."

"And you are a person of conscience?"

Solomon leaned forward, his pale eyes glittering. "I am a person of practicality. I have no interest in genocide. Genocide is bad for business. I want stability, prosperity, a world where commerce can flourish. The compound, properly managed, can contribute to that world."

Li Yun looked at the old man, at the medical coat and the cold eyes and the calm, reasonable voice. Solomon believed what he was saying. That was the terrifying thing. He believed he was the hero of this story, the rational actor who would use the compound wisely while others would abuse it.

It was the same belief Peter Changsun had held. The same belief that had built the fleet of slaves and the floating abattoirs and the mountains of dead fish and dead men. The belief that power justified itself.

"I have a counter-proposal," Li Yun said.

"I am listening."

"Let me go. Let Peter Changsun go. Give us a boat and safe passage to Australian waters. In return, I will not tell the world about this place, about what you have done, about your plans for the compound."

Solomon laughed. It was a dry, rustling sound, like dead leaves stirring in the wind. "You have nothing to bargain with, Mr. Li. You are strapped to a chair in the middle of the ocean. No one knows where you are. No one is coming to rescue you. Your friends on the mothership think you are dead, or soon will be."

"You are wrong."

"About what?"

"About no one knowing where I am." Li Yun met the old man's eyes. "Before I left the mothership, I gave James Calloway the coordinates of the island where I was meeting Peter Changsun. When we did not return, he would have launched a search. And when he found the abandoned launch, adrift and empty, he would have started looking for whoever took us."

Solomon's expression flickered, a microsecond of uncertainty before the calm returned. "Even if that is true, they will never find this rig. It is not on any chart. It does not exist in any database. The ocean is very large, Mr. Li, and this platform is very small."

"The Toowoomba has signal intelligence capabilities. You said it yourself, you have been monitoring Peter Changsun's communications network. That means you are transmitting. And if you are transmitting, you can be found."

The old man stared at him for a long moment. Then he stood up, his medical coat rustling softly. "We will continue this conversation later. I have given you a great deal to think about. When I return, I hope you will be more reasonable."

He walked to the door and paused. "Oh, and Mr. Li. Peter Changsun is dying. His disease has accelerated. The doctors give him perhaps forty-eight hours. If you want him to live long enough to face justice, you will give me the coordinates. The remaining samples may include an earlier batch that can be adapted to treat his condition."

"He would rather die than let you have the compound."

"Perhaps. But do you want him to die? After everything you have been through together, after the alliance you have formed, do you really want to watch him slip away knowing you could have saved him?"

Solomon left the room. The door clicked shut, and the lock engaged with a heavy, metallic finality. Li Yun was alone.

He tested the restraints again. Still firm. The chair was bolted to the floor. The door was locked. The walls were steel. There was no window, no vent large enough to crawl through, no weakness he could exploit.

But Solomon had made a mistake. He had left Li Yun alone with his thoughts, and his thoughts were the most dangerous weapon he possessed.

He thought about the coordinates, folded in his pocket. Solomon had searched him when he was captured, but he had not found the paper. Li Yun had transferred it to the lining of his jacket during the chaos of the arrest, a trick he had learned from Uncle Shen during the long days of preparation on the Sea Vulture. The paper was still there, pressed against his ribs, a secret that Solomon did not know he had.

He thought about Peter Changsun, dying in another part of the rig. The man who had been his enemy for so long, now his unlikely ally. The man who had chosen to die rather than cross a final line. The man who had trusted Li Yun with the location of the remaining samples.

He thought about the Toowoomba, and Kyaw, and Uncle Shen, and all the men who had followed him through the mutiny and the battles and the long, dark journey to this moment. They were out there somewhere, searching for him. He had to believe that. He had to believe that James Calloway had launched a search, that the signal intelligence officers were tracking the transmissions from the rig, that help was on its way.

But help would not arrive in time to save Peter Changsun. And help would not arrive in time to stop Solomon from finding another way to access the remaining samples. The old man was resourceful. He would not give up simply because Li Yun refused to talk.

Li Yun closed his eyes and let the fire burn. It was a cold fire now, patient and calculating. He had survived the hold of the Sea Vulture. He had survived the mutiny and the assault on the mothership. He had survived the confrontation with Peter Changsun and the capture by Solomon's men. He would survive this too.

And when he got out of this chair, he would finish what he had started.

Hours passed. Li Yun could not track them precisely, but he felt the passage of time in the ache of his muscles and the dryness of his throat. No one came. No one brought food or water. The room was silent except for the hum of the ventilation system and the distant throb of the rig's machinery.

He was being softened. Solomon was letting him sit in the silence, letting the thirst and the uncertainty and the fear do their work. It was a classic interrogation technique, and Li Yun recognized it for what it was. But recognition did not make it less effective.

He thought about his father. The old man in Vancouver, waiting for news. James Calloway had promised to send a team to protect him, but had that promise been kept? Or was his father sitting alone in his apartment, vulnerable to whatever retaliation the Changsun Group or the Consortium might devise?

He thought about the Wu Prince. The ancestor who had drunk the poisoned wine because he was tired of fighting. Li Yun was tired too. His body was exhausted, his mind frayed, his spirit worn thin by everything he had endured. But he was not ready to drink the wine. Not yet. Not while there was still fire in his chest.

The door opened. Li Yun looked up, expecting Solomon, expecting the next round of interrogation.

Instead, a woman entered. She was the same woman who had been on the black boat, the technical specialist with the headset and the ruggedized laptop. She was carrying a tray with a cup of water and a bowl of something that might have been soup.

"Mr. Solomon sent me," she said. "He wants you to eat."

"Tell Mr. Solomon I am not hungry."

"You need to eat. You have been here for twelve hours."

The woman set the tray on a small table and wheeled it close to Li Yun's chair. Her movements were precise, efficient, but there was something in her eyes that did not match the professional demeanor. Something that might have been hesitation.

"What is your name?" Li Yun asked.

"My name does not matter."

"It matters to me. I want to know who is holding me prisoner."

The woman paused. Then she said, "My name is Elena. I am the communications officer for this installation."

"Elena. How long have you worked for Solomon?"

"Three years. He recruited me from a private security firm in Manila. The pay is good. The work is... complicated."

"Complicated how?"

Elena glanced at the door, as if checking that it was still closed. "I know who you are. I have been following your story since the mutiny. The broadcasts, the interviews, the evidence you released. My family is from Mindanao. My uncle was a fisherman. He disappeared five years ago, sold to a fleet that no one would investigate. I think he was on one of the Changsun ships."

Li Yun felt the ember pulse. "Then you know what I am fighting for."

"I know. And I know what Mr. Solomon is planning. He is not going to use the compound for medicine. He is going to sell it. To governments, to private military companies, to anyone who can pay. He has been negotiating with buyers for months."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Elena looked at him, and for the first time, Li Yun saw the fear beneath the professional exterior. "Because I do not want to be part of it. I took this job for the money, not for this. I did not sign up to help commit genocide."

"Then help me. Get me out of this chair."

"I cannot. The restraints require a key, and I do not have it. Only Mr. Solomon and the head of security have keys."

"Then get a message out. Contact the HMAS Toowoomba. Tell them where this rig is. Tell them what is happening."

Elena shook her head. "All communications are monitored. If I try to send an unauthorized message, the security system will flag it immediately. I would be caught within minutes."

"Then find another way. There is always another way."

The woman was silent for a long moment. Then she reached into her pocket and withdrew a small device, no larger than a thumb drive. "This is a bypass key. It will open the electronic locks on the lower levels. Not the medical bay, but the corridors, the maintenance hatches, the ventilation shafts. If you can get out of that chair, you can use this to navigate the rig."

Li Yun stared at the device. "Why are you giving me this?"

"Because I want to be able to sleep at night. Because my uncle would have wanted me to. Because what Mr. Solomon is doing is wrong, and someone has to stop him."

She pressed the device into Li Yun's bound hand. Her fingers were cold, trembling slightly.

"There is a lifeboat at the stern, on the lowest deck. It is fueled and ready. The access code for the launch is 7-3-9-4. If you can reach it, you can escape."

"Come with me."

Elena shook her head. "I cannot. I have a sister in Manila. If Mr. Solomon finds out I helped you, she will not be safe. I will stay and cover my tracks as best I can. You just need to promise me one thing."

"What?"

"When you get out of here, when you tell the world what happened, make sure they know about the buyers. The governments, the military companies, all of them. They are as guilty as Solomon. They created the demand that made this place possible."

Li Yun closed his fingers around the bypass key. "I promise."

Elena nodded and stepped back. "I have to go. The guards will be changing shift in ten minutes. That is your window. If you can get out of the chair, use the bypass key to reach the lower decks. The guards will be focused on the upper levels."

She left the room, and the door clicked shut behind her.

Li Yun looked at the bypass key in his hand. It was small, unremarkable, a piece of plastic and metal that could change everything. But it was useless unless he could get out of the chair.

He tested the restraints again. Still firm. But Elena had given him something else besides the key. She had given him the tray, and on the tray was a metal spoon.

It was not much. But it was enough.

Li Yun began to work the spoon against the canvas restraint, sawing with the edge, patient and methodical. The fire was burning, and every second brought him closer to freedom.