Countermind by Adrian Randall

Author:Adrian Randall [Randall, Adrian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science fiction
ISBN: 978-1-63533-269-8
Publisher: DSP Publications
Published: 2017-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

IN HIS resting state, Knife-fight Li wasn’t so frightening. He’d only needed to live up to the nickname once, after all, the skirmish being quite decisive. He didn’t smoke or spit or swear. Even with the tattoos visible at his neck, his placid demeanor tended to overwhelm any impression of violence people might receive from him.

It helped that the woman, unflappable to begin with, was accustomed to him showing up at her door with a delivery. When she stepped out of her building on her way to work only to bump into Li on the front sidewalk, she was only surprised by the stack of cardboard boxes behind him.

She eyed the boxes warily. “Are those…?”

Li nodded. “As you’ve requested: seven thousand silk handkerchiefs, sent by my father in honor of your beauty. He hopes these will be sufficient to demonstrate his adoration of you and to win your affection for him.”

“I suppose they’ll need to come upstairs, won’t they?”

“If you’ll permit it.”

“I’ll be late for work.” She sighed. “Very well. Come on.”

She brewed tea while Li carried the boxes up three at a time. When they were all in the foyer, she handed him a cup as well as a washcloth to wipe the sweat off his face.

“Thank you.”

“Never mind it.”

“If you’ll forgive me for taking more of your time, I would also like to deliver a request.”

“What does he want this time?” she asked between sips of tea.

“Forgive me, but this is my request.”

She looked up from her cup. “Oh? That’s new.”

“My father, though powerful and influential, isn’t the hard-hearted man you might expect from someone with his responsibilities.”

“I do think your little societies rather resemble gentlemen’s clubs more than criminal organizations these days, it’s true.”

“He is, in fact, an extremely sensitive, sentimental man.”

“Yes, that’s quite clear to me,” she said.

“He has been inconsolable since my mother died.”

That quieted her. She set down her teacup and waited for Li to continue.

“I’m afraid his grief has driven him to folly, and I’m afraid you, through no fault of your own, have become a target of his folly.”

She nodded. “Yes, that describes my predicament well.”

“Nonetheless, I’d humbly ask you to do what you can to stop this from going any further.”

She lifted her cup again, looked at it, swirled it about, set it down. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

“It’s one outlandish gift after another,” Li said, “and I know you only give them away to friends, relatives, coworkers, employees. First it was seven of one thing, seventy of the next, seven hundred of the next, and now this.” He gestured to the boxes. “I had to send dozens of men through the city, buying up scarves, even stealing them from shops and dryer lines, to meet your demand. You understand what a gift of handkerchiefs signifies.”

“I’d hoped your father would take the hint.”

“He hasn’t. And I cannot conceive of how we will satisfy your next task.”

“And before all that?” she asked. “Before I started asking for gifts?”

“You simply refused his advances,” Li confessed.

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