Despite the presence of the police, Future Media’s operations went on largely uninterrupted throughout the morning. A staff might be asked away for questioning, crates of merchandise or stacks of papers might get a quick check, but otherwise it was pretty much business as usual.
Well, there was one other thing…
“Shouldn’t you be doing the interviews, sir?”
Xing shook his head even as he lightly clapped Mozi on the shoulder. “I’ve already done my share of press briefings in the morning with Chief Lin and Asami. I trust you’ll be able to handle a few rags who were late to the party while I’m engaged elsewhere.”
Mozi stared at his superior for a moment before quirking an eyebrow. “This is to avoid talking about Amon?”
The director’s hand fell away as he turned to walk back to his desk. “It wouldn’t matter how I word it, I think. These papers peddle sensationalist stories, right? So they’d take anything I say and twist it to suit their level of dramatics, to make up for their absence this morning.”
“That’s true…”
He fell into his seat with a sigh. “You, on the other hand, can truthfully claim ignorance on the matter without too much consequence. Assuming they’d bring that up, since it’s you they’re meeting, and not me.”
Mozi gave a frown, not at all looking forward to playing his part as a buffer. “So how should I answer?”
“Truthfully. There has been nobody in Future Media that has so far publicly proclaimed their allegiance to the Equalists, just as there has been nobody who claimed membership of any triads.”
Truthfully, eh?
“And if they ask about the rumors of you and Miss Asami’s engagement?”
Xing didn’t hesitate in his reply, growing a smirk as he glanced down to under his desk to absently pick at something. “Redirect them to the Satos for an answer.” And remind them that they were still dealing with one of the most powerful names in Republic City.
“If anything,” the director added before Mozi could mull the thought any further, “they’re more likely to bring up your own family issues. You’re an estranged member of the Yiufang clan, right?” And the assistant stiffened at the thought of facing down questions about estrangement and the inflated scandal of a scion of old nobility mingling too fondly with a mere commoner.
“Thanks for raising that fact,” Mozi muttered dryly, and immediately began worrying about what he might have to deal with. Knowing his luck, they might have the full quote of his grandparents’ disapproval to throw at him.
His face now a frowning mask of agitation, the assistant tried to keep his voice level. “Will that be all, sir?”
Xing gave a sympathetic nod, even if he was the one to shove Mozi back into the embers of dynastic drama. “Yeah, use the time to prep yourself.”
Mozi nodded resignedly. “I’ll do my best…”
*****
The air was thick with apprehension, even with the noticeable decrease in attendance during the lunchtime gathering. The events around Goro’s death had been a surprise to everyone, but it was the metalbending police crawling all over Future Media that truly spooked the small cell that usually congregated in the backroom of an eatery. Even if everyone only were victim to light questioning about Goro, a fear now crept in their minds that they now held the suspicions of the authorities.
As a result, not a few absences were due to the Future Media workers finding a different, more conspicuous establishment to lunch in, on the off chance that their paranoid concerns were not paranoid at all. Others remained in the office and opted for the company’s catering instead.
Barely a dozen of them were present now, and junior clerk Shang wondered how many of them were here because of solidarity to the cause and the perceived safety in numbers, like himself. They plucked at the dishes and ate their rice furtively, as if at any moment the establishment owner might have betrayed them and given them up to the police, or worse, Tarrlok’s task force.
Nobody barged in even after Shang picked his bowl clean, but rather than leaving, he remain seated, eyeing the others. A radio technician met his gaze for a moment before glancing away. Someone else stared back, and this time it was Shang who looked down, as if he might’ve missed another grain of rice.
“Did Amon really…?” a woman who worked the archives finally asked, and everyone froze.
After it was clear that no metalbender would be jumping out of the shadows to seize them, Shang gulped and found himself answering. “I honestly don’t believe it. There was no news about it.”
“Can’t believe Goro was involved too,” someone else, a laborer with blank eyes, said. “He wasn’t a fighter. And he’s too new to be recruited for something like…that.”
A security guard joined the conversation as the tension began to loosen. “Do you think it’s related to the water tribe mob?”
“I don’t know,” Shang answered. “I hope so.”
“We’ll have to wait for news from the others to be sure,” said the woman who had first spoken. “If Amon truly did order the deaths of the Itiros, it must be for a good reason. Like...like maybe they were the ones who sent the water tribe mob?”
There were some heads nodding to that idea. It made sense. Trying to frame the movement with an uncalled for attack deserved some form of retribution. The embers of conviction flared in Shang, but it was a fleeting thing.
“But what if he didn’t?” somebody said, and everyone slumped a little.
“Then…then we still have a problem.”
Shang frowned. “Somebody somehow knew Goro was one of us, and used him to paint us all as butchers…”
“Or they’re trying to get at Future Media,” the laborer offered. “We all know Director Xing has made some enemies... Like Councilman Tarrlok, for example.”
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The eyes of several comrades went wide, Shang being one of them. “You think Tarrlok is responsible?” he hissed fearfully.
The man raised his hands and leaned back on his stool. “Hey, I’m just putting it out there.”
“But that makes no sense,” the security guard retorted. “The Itiro family is one of Tarrlok’s closest supporters and friends.”
“I was just offering options,” the man repeated defensively.
“Well, that’s a stupid option.”
“And there’s no need to keep harping on it.”
“Moving on,” the woman said aloud to rein in the rising tempers, “it’s all pointless speculation. We need to wait for Amon’s word.”
“And when will Amon’s word reach all of you?”
Everyone snapped about to the corner of the backroom, some of the cell members jolting out of their stools. Shang personally felt panic shoot up his spine at the all too familiar voice.
The shadows seemed to melt away from Director Xing as he strode forwards. Visually, he was barely recognizable. He seemed to be perfectly comfortable with the coarse threads of a menial worker’s uniform. The grease stains on his arms, and the tilted flat cap partially obscuring his eyes, further muddied Shang’s recognition of his employer.
But the authority in his voice was unmistakable, as was the air of confidence that came out of nowhere when he straightened from his slouch. There was also the much rumored sense of danger, rolling out like smoke from a covered incense urn.
And Shang suddenly took seriously the idea that his boss might’ve once been in a very bloody line of work before coming to Republic City.
“D-D-Direc-”
Director Xing cut the stammering off with a sharp gesture from one hand, while the other pushed his cap up so that he could sweep a steely gaze across the room. The same hard look that made Shang squirm in his seat back at the meeting after the mob’s attack.
“How does this group keep up to date with the latest events?”
There was stunned silence and half-panicked trading of glances.
The director’s gaze softened as he gave a sigh. “I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: I do not care what your thoughts are on the Equalists, so long as you have not publicly declared your allegiance to them, and are not directly involved in any of their misdeeds.”
“B-But-”
Another cutting gesture. “With the tragic exception of Goro, I have yet to hear anyone else in Future Media declaring their membership to the terrorist organization, so I have no reason to call on the metalbending police.” He gave everyone a meaningful look, and Shang joined the others in eventually nodding meekly to the unsaid command.
“Now, back to my question.”
“Why…uh, why do you want to know?” the laborer managed to respond, though Shang couldn’t tell if it was defiance or confusion that pushed him to do so.
Xing fixed the man with a mild glare that made him shrink into himself. “Because I need to know if the Equalists really are connected to the deaths of Goro and the Itiros. Otherwise I’d be wasting time.”
“Time?” a meek voice spoke up. Shang was horrified when he recognized it as his own, and he tensed as his employer smoothly turned his hard, amber eyes on him.
“That’s unimportant. I just want to know if the Equalists are going to claim responsibility for the Itiros.”
Silence rolled in for several seconds.
It was the woman who spoke up, after an audible gulp. “We…um, we usually have a bigger gathering - a proper meeting - in the evenings. Every few days.” Her eyes darted to everyone else for support, but found none. “B-But we also pick up our pamphlets…?”
Xing’s head tilted to one side.
“Uh, every morning.”
“And there was no mention of it this morning?”
Everyone in the room nodded, and the oppressive air exuded by the director finally receded.
“That is something, I suppose. Thank you.” He pushed down his cap again and began heading for the door.
“Wait, sir!” And again Shang realized he was the one calling out. Xing turned towards him, and immediately the words fell out of his mouth like a leaking pipe, voicing the curiosity that had been bouncing around in his head for days now. “Are you…are you really, um, with us?”
Xing’s narrowing eyes and thinning lips was all the answer Shang needed. “I understand your grievances, but understanding does not mean approval or support.”
Shang blinked. “Then why…?”
There was a soft, almost sad, sigh, and then the director turned to fully face the group again. “Where do you think you stand in your cause? As supporters? Soldiers?”
The security guard straightened as he answered with enviable conviction, “when the time comes, we will play our parts in bringing Equality to Republic City, and the whole of the United Republic.” Shang and the others nodded, lending their own confidence.
Xing was unimpressed. “And if you were asked to play the same part Goro allegedly did? Snuff out a whole family, children and servants included?”
Stifling silence followed.
“Or lay an ambush for the Avatar? Whose opposition to the cause was because her friend - just a pro-bender, not even a triad lackey - had been kidnapped to be put on stage and have his bending stolen for no reason at all.”
Something in the air caused Shang to lower his gaze.
“Or would you take on the brave, courageous task of harassing the poor and the destitute simply for their bending, forcing them into the shadows of the triads for safety? To instill fear so that establishments feel justified in discriminating when hiring or promoting non-benders, in case the hire was revealed to be a terrorist that might draw unwanted attention?”
Xing’s lips twitched a little at that last point. “As an…immediate example, Future Media was forced to postpone or completely drop several projects to cooperate with the ongoing police investigation. Colleagues of Goro especially - technicians and laborers, even talents - have to be kept from their usual schedule so they may be questioned.”
He grew a bitter, unkind smile as he slowly scanned the room. “And that’s just the effect on the company’s operations. I’m sure we’ll see the effects on the company’s reputation in the days to come, the doubt and concerns over the idea that a butcher had worked under us. The so-called beacon of Equalism that your people touted, now compromised. But at least Future Media has the resources to…eventually overcome this.”
The smile faded, but Shang didn’t feel better as the director continued. “Now imagine a smaller enterprise, a noodle vendor forced to deal with the police for the whole day because their assistant was found dead in an Equalist uniform, in a noble family’s bloodstained compound. Imagine the consequence they might suffer from their peers, their customers, their neighbours, if they too happened to be non-benders. Imagine if they were visited by Tarrlok’s task force instead of the police, because they did not have the connections that Future Media does.”
Despite remaining still before him, it felt like Xing was breathing down Shang’s neck. “Your movement claims to fight the oppression of benders, but from what I’ve seen so far, it does so by oppressing the benders it can opportunistically prey on. Until the Itiros, your highest achievement is a lone triad boss. How the gears of change turns from that. You slink in the shadows from day one, playing the beaten down victim even if you’ve never once tried a legitimate protest. Amon is bold enough to order ambushes and show off kidnapped benders, but he didn’t have the balls to march his masked face up to City Hall to air his demands for change.”
A disgusted scoff made Shang flinch, and he glanced up to see the director shaking his head. “Say what you want, but from the outside, your Equalist group is no better than the triads, with the exception of Amon having bigger ambitions, and his followers being far more gullible pawns.”
Xing turned again to leave, pausing again as he was about to open the door to look over his shoulder. “I will not raise your names or those of your…comrades to the police.” Shang was mildly surprised at the compassion he suddenly heard in the words. “Even if you do not return to work after this…as long as you do not give me a valid reason for doing so. If you think of outing yourselves just to spite the company, know that preparations have already been made. But for your sake, for the sake of your colleagues, I truly hope that all of you carefully consider the group that you proudly follow, if not the cause itself. And for the record…”
All eyes were on Xing as he reached into the pocket of his pants to retrieve a piece of crumpled paper between two fingers. All eyes took in the sight of smoke trailing from the paper, before combusting with a flash of white fire that quickly transformed it into crumbling ash.
“In case that matters.”
The door opened with a soft creak, and then Director Xing was gone. Shang stared at the exit for several seconds before looking back to the others. They exchanged uncomfortable looks for a while before rising up in silence to return to work.
