Read Glass Sky for Free Online Page B

devoured him.
    A ringing omni pierced the silence. Jie looked around in confusion. Another ring.
    Dog testicles. ‹Why can’t they leave me alone?› The ponytailed warrior froze on the screen, and Jie stepped off the game pad, smoothing his receding hair where the virtual reality headset had pressed it flat.
    ‹Sorry Cheng. Have to deal with this.› It had to be pretty important for a voice call to get past Jie’s “do not disturb.” Please, don’t be a creditor.
    Jie left his son on the other pad and stepped into his living room. Towering buildings stretched to the horizon like fountains of neon, painting the bare walls with light. The Beijing night. He’d bought the apartment because of this view, but now, with the furniture impounded, the shifting colors just made the room seem emptier.
    “Wèi?”
    A black man with a shaved head looked back at him, his neck swelling slightly over a monochrome collar and tie. “Am I speaking to Tian Jie?”
    The words sounded like gibberish for a second, until Jie switched mental gears. English. Like many foreigners, the man pronounced Jie’s name as Gee. Which was fine. Jie’d long since given up on the “it’s pronounced Jee-Yeuh” conversations, and accepted that he had a ready-made Western name and an impossible-to-pronounce Chinese one.
    “How can I help you?” asked Jie. The English felt strange on his rusty tongue. Like most Chinese he was fluent, but it had been several years.
    “I’m Tetabo Molari,” said the man. “Of Molari Industries.” Molari Industries? This might be good! “ We need your expertise for a project we’re working on at Xinjiang Space Center. You’ve no doubt heard of the sunlight disk array the UN is evaluating?”
    Space Center? Sunlight disk array? Jie’s brief burst of optimism crumbled. “I’m sorry, you have wrong Tian Jie,” said Jie. “I run a nanotechnology startup; I don’t do aerospace.”
    Molari shook his head emphatically. “Nanoglass right? Believe me, you’re the right Tian Jie. The lawyers won’t let me discuss details without thumb-printed nondisclosures. But I’ll pay a very generous consulting fee to talk to you in meat space. I hope my calling you personally underlines the importance of your coming. I’m sending the contract now. And I’ve booked a first class ticket for you on the 21:15 bullet train to Urumchi.” He paused to emphasize his next point. “This is a great opportunity, Mr. Tian. It would be foolish to ignore it.”
    Molari hung up, leaving Jie staring at the blank screen. He looked glumly at the impressions in the carpet where his furniture had stood. He got these offers from time to time. Consulting contracts from some tech company that wanted to pick an obscure corner of his brain. But a generous consulting fee wouldn’t sustain a staff of ten. He’d missed payroll twice already, and he’d mortgaged his apartment. They needed sales. His temple throbbed just thinking about it. I can’t ignore the investors any longer.
    Beep. The message light flashed like a fishing lure. Jie looked up to see Cheng standing at the doorway, watching him. ‹You have to work again, don’t you, Dad?› His high voice wavered, betraying his determined slouch.
    I’m done fighting this. It’s time to be a father.
    Jie ruffled Cheng’s hair. ‹Not this time,› he said, dropping the omni into his pocket. ‹Let’s go steal that cup.›
     
    ***
     
    The beast moved faster than Jie could have imagined. Its tail whipped around like a thing possessed, spearing Cheng’s elf on meterlong poisoned spikes and pulping him against the ceiling. Flesh and bone hailed down in a shower of blood. Jie had only a moment to marvel at how beautifully it was animated before the beast wheeled. Sword! Sword! He thrashed at the controller. Gleaming teeth severed one arm, then pulled the other from its socket. Razor claws unspooled Jie’s entrails, spraying gouts of red ichor. His stomach cramped in sympathy. The game faded