Chapter 10: Three Gangs, One Reunion

However convincing his tough-guy act might be, underneath it all Zuo Dao was still the same slippery bastard. He was a clever man. In just three days, by trading favors and information with his fellow gang members, asking a few probing questions and carefully steering conversations, he had learned most of what went on in Tidal Prison.

First, there were three main gangs here. One was his own Laundry Gang, which had no actual boss, because its founder had been a genius. Though that genius had been dead for years, the system he had devised for running the gang still functioned smoothly.

Compared with the other gangs, the Laundry Gang's members had a much stronger sense of teamwork, yet that spirit depended on their distrust of one another. This might sound contradictory and absurd, but in this particular environment it was entirely possible.

The reason was that establishing real trust between Tidal Prison's inmates was extremely difficult to begin with. Any one of them might stab you in the back with a smile. They were all lunatics. They might look calmer telling lies than telling the truth, or have acting skills worthy of a Best Actor award. They needed no reason to kill and might not even fear being killed. When dealing with people like that, morality and common sense were bullshit, and trust was naturally just empty talk.

If trust was so hard to establish, simply give up on it. That was the Laundry Gang's approach. Their central rule was “Don't pry.” This didn't mean you weren't allowed to ask for information. It meant members weren't allowed to investigate one another's backgrounds. You weren't making friends. You were simply helping and using one another. All you needed to remember were your fellow members' faces. Their names, pasts, beliefs and opinions were all irrelevant. If possible, even when someone held the shock ring on his wrist right in front of you, you shouldn't look to see what his name was.

It was this arrangement that allowed the Laundry Gang to put its other rules into practice.

As long as you exchanged information and helped your fellow members after joining, they would help you when trouble came your way. But nobody would force you to stand up for a fellow member in a truly dangerous situation. There was no need. If it really came down to life and death, you were perfectly free to stand aside, and nobody would condemn you afterward. Of course, if you ever needed someone to risk his life to save you, you shouldn't expect anyone to come.

Friendship between gentlemen asks little; when disaster strikes, it's every man for himself. That was the relationship between Laundry Gang members. Everyone understood without a word, and nobody pushed things too far. None of us knows anyone else, none of us understands anyone else. We only recognize one another's faces. We use one another day to day, lend a hand when we can, and if I can't help you up, I'll pretend I didn't see you.

Nobody would order you around, and you shouldn't think of ordering anyone else around either. The Laundry Gang had no boss, only newcomers and old hands. Longstanding members had no right to give orders to new ones. Everyone was the same, everyone equal. This was the cleverest rule their original boss had laid down all those years ago. The gang had a system, but nobody held the power, so no small group could casually change the rules for its own benefit. Anyone dissatisfied with the arrangement was free to leave.

If someone stayed in the gang without ever providing information or helping anyone, simply freeloading, that didn't matter either. The rule was that members kept an eye on one another. Once you confirmed someone was doing this, you remembered it, but you weren't allowed to say anything. Speaking up could open the door to fabricated accusations and malicious rumors. Just quietly remember that person's face. Remember him even after changing detention blocks. Over time, as more people remembered what he looked like, he would be isolated, which amounted to losing the gang's protection.

And so on… All these procedures for handling specific situations formed a complete set of gang rules built entirely on unspoken understandings.

And this happened to be the most cohesive, practical and effective system of administration in Tidal Prison. It was actually a strange kind of democracy, one suited to a particular group of people under extreme conditions.

Laundry Gang members couldn't guess what their fellows were thinking. Everyone feared being isolated, so they followed the rules. They had neither the means nor any reason to target or frame their fellow members, because they knew nothing about one another. This created a relatively equal atmosphere, along with the sense of security that came from belonging to a group.

That was roughly how the Laundry Gang worked. Next came the second gang, the Guards Gang.

This wasn't a gang made up entirely of guards. Most of its members were prisoners. But given the name, their relationship with the guards shouldn't be hard to guess.

The boss of the Guards Gang, or rather its boss behind the scenes, was Tidal Prison's head guard, known as “Spider Sean.” Under him were a number of senior guards, one assigned to each detention block. These were the men who stood on the second floor every day and dismissed the prisoners below. Their uniforms differed in design from those of ordinary guards, and they had authority to give certain orders to the rank and file. Of course, even the senior guards knew one another only by their codes and had no idea how many others held the same position. Sean never summoned all his senior guards at once. That, too, was a rule laid down by the warden.

As for the prisoners in the Guards Gang, they were much like collaborators serving an occupying enemy. They were the so-called cooperative faction, still hoping to leave this hellish place alive someday, and so they chose to work for the guards.

Sean had planned the formation of this gang himself. He thought cultivating such a force among the prisoners would help keep them under control. Perhaps these people would prove useful someday.

Those who joined the Guards Gang also received the most tangible benefits. The guards generally let them get away with fighting. They served food in the cafeteria every day, so they too enjoyed meals that weren't mush, and they received a certain amount of protection. For instance, if a member sensed during free time that someone wanted to kill him, he could stand closer to a guard. Knowing he belonged to the Guards Gang, the guard wouldn't chase him away.

The requirements for joining the Guards Gang weren't demanding. No resistance members, no political prisoners, and no mentally unstable people. If you wanted to join, you only had to speak to one of the prisoners with a spider tattoo on the back of his hand. They would make the arrangements, and within twenty-four hours that tattoo would appear on your hand too.

Those three conditions alone, however, were enough to disqualify most of Tidal Prison's inmates. The remaining eligible prisoners were generally ability users who raped and pillaged purely to satisfy their own desires. Most of them were quite powerful, making them unsuitable for the other prisons for ability users around the world.

The Guards Gang and the Laundry Gang might both seem to be made up of “law-abiding citizens,” but they were fundamentally different and had never got along particularly well. Still, as a gang whose purpose was survival, the Laundry Gang naturally concentrated on defense and wouldn't go looking for trouble with the other side. The Guards Gang didn't dare push Laundry Gang members too far either, preserving a delicate balance.

Finally, there was the third gang. This gang had no name. Its members didn't need to remember their companions' faces or get tattoos. Changing detention blocks didn't matter either. They could soon find their people again. Of the three gangs, its entry requirement was the simplest. You only had to be attracted to your own sex.

Why did the prisoners in every detention block go down to the ground floor during free time each day? Why did the guards upstairs stand only at the corners of the corridors instead of patrolling? The answer was that upstairs, a bunch of men were busy in cells whose doors wouldn't close, on beds without even any sheets, or on the floor, or against the wall… All right, we'll skip some of this. Most of it would just be grunts and moans anyway.

Some members of this gang were that way by nature, while others had been bent that way after arriving. They all knew one another “intimately,” their bonds went very “deep,” and they could trust one another and unite against a common enemy.

The other two gangs remained neutral toward them. Perhaps this neutrality represented understanding and respect, or perhaps it represented disgust and rejection. Nobody knew, and nobody brought it up…

Those were roughly the defining features of Tidal Prison's three major gangs. None of the smaller gangs was as stable as these three. Transfers between detention blocks, members dying, internal collapse and any number of other causes could easily wipe a small gang out.

Zuo Dao could count himself lucky to have got into the Laundry Gang. Without it, he might have had to fend for himself like most of the prison's inmates. After all, what he'd done in the Dragon Commandery had earned him classification as a schemer and a lunatic. The Guards Gang didn't take people like that. As for the third gang… Once, bored during free time, Zuo Dao had tried going back to his cell for a nap. A casual glance as he passed through the corridor had seared his poor eyes and left him permanently traumatized.

…

May 19, ten in the morning. Tidal Prison.

“If your name is called, go straight to that door to change detention blocks.” A senior guard was giving the routine speech from the second floor, reading out the prisoners' names one by one.

Every day, Zuo Dao memorized the identification number of every guard in his detention block. His eyes were sharp and his memory excellent. He didn't need to get close; a quick glance was enough to remember a number. He had been observing and keeping count since the sixteenth, making today the fourth day. More than half the ordinary guards changed each day, and the senior guard had already been replaced once. The daily turnover among prisoners was clearly lower, at around twenty percent. The randomness was obvious, since some people who had only arrived yesterday were transferred out again today.

“…Zuo Dao.”

Hearing his name called, Zuo Dao froze briefly, then stepped out of the crowd and headed for the door the guard had indicated. A dozen or so other prisoners went with him.

The guard beside the door counted them. The numbers were right, so he followed them into the corridor. The instant he closed the electronic door behind him, he heard a shuddering groan.

A prisoner in front of Zuo Dao was convulsing violently under the current from his shock ring. Soon he was foaming at the mouth and collapsed on the floor.

The guard sighed and spoke into the communicator on his uniform. “This is 00668. Someone's passed out here. Suspected transfer under another prisoner's name.”

After a brief exchange, a guard on the other side opened the electronic door behind him. The guard stood on the detention-block side, holding up a prisoner who could barely stand. “How's the one on your side? Is he dead?”

00668 glanced at the prisoner lying on the floor with foam trickling from his mouth and replied, “Doesn't look like he'll die.” He muttered irritably, “What a pain.” Then he went over, dragged the man to the electronic door like a corpse, dumped him back into the detention block, and took the swaying prisoner from the other guard.

00668 grabbed him by the collar. “Shame it didn't fry you!” He shoved the prisoner. “Move!”

The electronic door closed again.

This was the first time Zuo Dao had seen anyone trigger a shock ring. Apparently the two men had conspired to let the one due for transfer stay behind while the other changed detention blocks in his place.

Judging by this incident, as long as you wore that thing on your wrist, you probably had to go wherever the prison system told you to go. It seemed that the instant the door closed, the two shock rings no longer matched some electronic identification signal for their respective locations and were triggered. Also… the guards' powered armor uniforms were clearly quite capable. They could drag an adult man with one hand.

Zuo Dao walked on under guard, head lowered, saying nothing. Over the past few days, the weight on his mind had steadily grown. The more he learned about this prison, the more he understood what it meant to leave no loopholes.

It wasn't just the impregnable defenses offered by its location and the building itself. The most frightening thing about this prison was its suffocating system of internal control. Successive wardens of Tidal Prison had developed these rules through countless escapes and uprisings, accumulating experience and gradually refining them.

Zuo Dao had indeed learned something about Blood Owl through the Laundry Gang. Blood Owl too was being held in an ordinary detention block and hadn't joined any gang. But that was all they knew. The man who gave Zuo Dao this information had only seen Blood Owl in a detention block a week earlier, before being transferred away. With that, Zuo Dao's faint hope of having him pass a message to Blood Owl was dashed.

Now Zuo Dao could only hope that one day he would meet a fellow member in the laundry who knew Blood Owl and shared his detention block. He could have the man pass on a message asking Blood Owl to meet him in the laundry, while also praying that the next day Blood Owl would be assigned to the same laundry as him.

Of course, the odds were rather slim.

After walking along the corridor for a while, 00668 led Zuo Dao and the other prisoners into an elevator. It was as big as a shipping container. Once its doors closed, they couldn't feel which direction it was moving in; they could only hear the machinery at work.

About a minute later, the elevator doors opened onto a corridor identical to the one they'd come from. 00668 escorted Zuo Dao and the others out, and soon they reached a new detention block. After coaxing and herding them inside and exchanging a few words with the senior guard there, 00668 left.

Several guards from this block led Zuo Dao and the others off separately to show them their new cells. He followed his guard's directions, but had only taken a few steps when a tall figure suddenly blocked his way. He looked up, and for an instant truly had no idea what expression to wear.

Surprise? Delight? Terror?

In the end, Zuo Dao recovered his usual uncertain smile, looking half pleased and half worried. “Stay your hand, noble hero! Hear this humble Daoist out!”

“Hey, what's all this nonsense? Keep moving.” The guard behind Zuo Dao stepped up beside him as he spoke. But the sight of Blood Owl visibly startled him, stopping him in his tracks for a second before he said, “What is it, Blood Owl? Making trouble again?” Though Blood Owl's shock ring was engraved with his real name, Chev Kirios, his spectacular arrival and the many disturbances he'd caused since meant that every guard knew him as Blood Owl.

A vicious grin spread across Blood Owl's face. “Nothing, sir. I just thought this fellow looked familiar.” He stepped aside to let Zuo Dao and the guard pass.

The guard said nothing more. He glanced at Blood Owl, then led Zuo Dao upstairs.

Two minutes later, Zuo Dao sat alone in his cell. The guard had gone. He stared wide-eyed at the doorway, waiting…

The man he expected came after all. Blood Owl's tall, muscular figure appeared in the doorway. He walked slowly inside and said, “Thinking back, it all began that time in Venice, when you brought me that videotape.” Blood Owl paused, then asked, “Do you work for Tian Yi?”

“Yes… no… no… yes…” Zuo Dao babbled incoherently.

“Has your brain short-circuited? Biology is more my field, but if you'd like me to fix it…” Blood Owl hadn't quite finished his threat.

Zuo Dao's quick wits had already supplied the right way to phrase it. “Not then, and not afterward, but I do now.”

“Oh? So how did you end up in here?” Blood Owl still couldn't be sure whether Zuo Dao was the man Tian Yi had said he would send to get him out. Considering Zuo Dao's talent for bullshit, he decided to ask a few other questions first and sound him out.

“Well… I made some credit cards to stimulate domestic demand, and then… I turned myself in,” Zuo Dao replied. “That's how I got here.”

“You turned yourself in?” Blood Owl's question was clearly rhetorical.

“Ha… ha ha…” The corners of Zuo Dao's mouth twitched as he gave a couple of dry laughs, his eyes full of misery. “The thing is, the boss… Tian Yi, that is, sent me in here so I could…” At this point he suddenly hunched over and tiptoed to the cell door, furtively peering left and right. Only after making sure nobody outside was eavesdropping did he come back in and lower his voice. “So I could tell you the details of the escape plan.”

Blood Owl smiled. “Here at last. Good. I've been itching to get started.” Something suddenly occurred to him. “Right, he said he wanted me to get someone out for him. Who?”

With barely a pause, Zuo Dao answered, “His name's Divine Key. He's in the permanently sealed section of the special detention area. Tea Immortal arrested him in Australia late last year. The boss says he's one of the people the Inverted Cross has to recruit.”

“The Inverted Cross?” Blood Owl said. “What the hell is that? Some organization that Tian Yi fellow started himself?”

Zuo Dao said, “That's too complicated for me to explain properly. Better ask him yourself once we've escaped.”

“I'm not particularly interested anyway,” Blood Owl said. “Now, tell me the details of this so-called plan…”