Hong Kong - Victoria Harbor, Late June 1997, One Week Before the Handover
The neon lights of Hong Kong's harbor front painted electric shadows across Xian Lee’s face as she crouched behind a stack of shipping containers. At sixteen, she was small enough to hide in spaces others wouldn't consider, smart enough to bypass security systems that were supposed to be unbreakable and scared enough to know that both skills might not be enough tonight.
Her OmniBook 800CT's monochrome screen cast a sickly green glow on her hands as they moved across the keyboard. The laptop was bulky by any standard, but it was the best portable computer money could buy - a gift from her father who thought she used it only for schoolwork. Through her headphones, she could hear the harbor police radio chatter - they were looking for someone, but not her. Not yet.
"Found something interesting in those logs, little mouse?"
Xian froze. The voice behind her spoke English with an accent she couldn't quite place - not British colonial, not American military, something else. She started to close the OmniBook's lid, but the voice stopped her.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Especially not when you're halfway through exposing a rather sophisticated surveillance system that isn't supposed to exist."
Slowly, Xian turned. The man standing there wasn't what she expected. No uniform, no badge, just casual clothes that somehow made him more conspicuous among the dock workers and sailors. His eyes, though - they saw everything.
"I'm not-" she began in English.
"Breaking into the harbor authority's new security network?" Bryan McDonald - though she wouldn't learn his name until much later - smiled slightly. "Of course you are. The question is: why?"
Xian's fingers tightened on her laptop, feeling the warmth of its Intel processor through the magnesium case. "They're installing new cameras. Not just at the port - everywhere. But they're not just cameras. They're..." She struggled to find the right words in English.
"They're learning," Bryan finished. "Watching patterns that normal systems wouldn't notice."
Xian's eyes widened. "You know?"
"I know a lot of things, Miss Lee. Including that you've been probing these systems for weeks. Finding their blind spots. Creating ghosts in their machine."
"How do you-"
"Know your name?" That slight smile again. "The same way I know your father works in network security for the Hong Kong Monetary Authority. The same way I know you've been trying to warn people about what's coming after the handover. The same way I know you're absolutely right to be afraid."
A police boat's searchlight swept across the containers above them. Neither moved.
"They're not just preparing for the handover," Xian said quietly. "They're building something bigger. Something that watches everything, learns everything..."
"Predicts everything," Bryan nodded. "And you figured this out by yourself?"
"I see patterns too," Xian replied. "In code, in data flows. The new systems - they're not just processing information. They're..." She hesitated.
"Hungry," Bryan supplied. "They're hungry for more. Always more."
Xian felt something shift in that moment - like finding someone else who could see through walls she thought only she could perceive.
"I need your help, Miss Lee," Bryan said quietly. "Because what you've discovered here in Hong Kong? It's just the beginning. And some of us are trying to build something to fight it."
"Some of us?"
"People who understand what's coming. Who see the patterns like you do." He pulled an old Motorola StarTAC from his pocket - the kind that couldn't be easily tracked. "If you're interested in doing more than just watching the watchers..."
Xian glanced at her OmniBook's screen, where lines of code still scrolled past. The harbor network's security was laid bare before her - and it was far more complex than anything a simple port should need.
"Look at this," she said, turning the screen slightly. "See these command structures? They're not just monitoring ship traffic. They're building profiles, creating connections between seemingly random data points."
Bryan crouched beside her, his movement silent despite his size. "Show me."
Xian's fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up log files that showed sprawling patterns of data collection. "Here - every ship that docks, every container that moves, every crew member that steps ashore... it's all being analyzed. But not just for security. The system is learning their habits, their patterns, predicting their next moves."
"And storing it all for later," Bryan added softly. "For after the handover."
A burst of Chinese from the police radio made them both pause. Xian adjusted her headphones, listening intently.
"They're moving to the north pier," she translated. "Still looking for their smugglers."
Bryan's eyes narrowed. "You tapped their encrypted channels?"
Xian allowed herself a small smile. "The encryption they're using... it's not as good as they think. Especially not with this." She patted the OmniBook. "I modified the wireless card. Added some custom firmware."
"Custom firmware?" Bryan's eyebrows rose. "On a PCMCIA card? That's..."
"Impossible?" Xian's smile grew slightly. "Like breaking into the harbor authority's 'unbreakable' network?"
For the first time, Bryan laughed - a quiet sound that barely carried past their hiding spot. "You remind me of my daughter. Same kind of fire." His expression grew serious again. "But what you're doing here - it's more dangerous than you realize. The people behind these systems... they're not just preparing for Chinese rule. They're testing something bigger."
"I know," Xian said quietly. "I've seen fragments in the code. References to something called 'Project Argus.' It's like they're building an eye that never sleeps, never stops watching."
Bryan's hand tightened on his StarTAC phone. "What if I told you there are people working to stop it? People who've seen this coming for years?"
"I'd say you sound like one of those conspiracy theorists who hang around the Peak," Xian replied, but her voice held no mockery. "And then I'd ask why you're really here. Because you're not just some random westerner who happened to catch me hacking."
"No," Bryan agreed. "I'm not. Just like you're not just some schoolgirl playing with computers." He reached into his pocket and pulled out something that looked like a regular USB drive. "This contains information about what we're doing. About the networks we're building - human networks, not electronic ones. People who understand what's coming and want to fight it."
Xian stared at the drive. "And you're just going to give this to me? Trust me with it?"
"Trust has to start somewhere, Miss Lee. Besides," his smile returned, "anyone who can hack a PCMCIA card's firmware deserves at least a chance to learn more."
A distant siren made them both look up. The police boats were returning.
"Time to go," Bryan said, standing. "Take it or leave it, but decide quickly."
Xian grabbed the drive, slipping it into her laptop bag. "How will I..."
"When you're ready," Bryan cut her off, "use that drive to access a message board called 'Highland Shepherds.' Look for a post about traditional Hong Kong tea ceremonies. The rest will make sense once you see it."
He melted into the shadows between containers with remarkable speed for someone his size. Xian quickly packed up her OmniBook, but before she could stand, his voice came back one last time:
"And Miss Lee? Be careful who else you show your talents to. Some eyes are better left thinking they're unseen."
Xian made her way home through the neon-lit streets of Hong Kong, the USB drive feeling like it burned in her bag. Behind her, the harbor's lights continued their endless dance, and somewhere in the electronic wilderness of the city's networks, unseen systems continued their patient learning.
The future was coming, ready or not.
But maybe now she wasn't facing it alone.
Xian Lee’s Home, 238 Broadcast Drive Kowloon, Hong Kong, June 27, 1997
Later that night, Xian sat cross-legged on her bed, the OmniBook 800CT balanced on her knees. Her family's apartment was quiet except for the endless hum of Hong Kong's air conditioners and the distant sound of traffic below.
She carefully removed the 3.5" floppy disk from her bag, examining its plain black casing. No label, no markings - nothing to hint at its contents. The mechanical whir of the OmniBook's disk drive seemed impossibly loud in the quiet room as she inserted it.
Xian held her breath, listening to the characteristic clicking as the drive read the disk. After what seemed like ages, the directory appeared on the monochrome screen. She found a single Word Perfect file that appeared to be random phrases in English and Chinese. But Xian had been breaking codes since she was twelve, and she knew better than to trust appearances.
First things first - backup the disk. She'd learned that lesson the hard way after losing weeks of schoolwork to a corrupted floppy. Hong Kong's humidity was notorious for destroying magnetic media. She pulled a fresh disk from her drawer and made two copies, hiding one inside her calculus textbook.
The coded message was elegant in its simplicity. Each phrase led to specific newsgroups on Usenet, buried in discussion threads about traditional tea ceremonies. But the real messages were hidden in the headers and spacing of seemingly innocent posts.
Xian worked through the night, the OmniBook's cooling fan spinning up as she connected through her 28.8k modem. Each new discovery led to another layer, another test. The floppy drive clicked steadily as she cross-referenced the original message with what she found online.
By dawn, she had mapped out an entire network of communication channels. A final decoded message appeared in a Usenet post:
"Well done, little mouse. Tomorrow, same board, different whiskers."
What followed was months of careful communication. She learned about BBS systems, Telnet, private newsgroups - ways of sharing information that couldn't be easily traced or monitored. Bryan's group taught her new methods each week, building on her growing knowledge of network security.
But then came the handover.
Everything changed faster than anyone expected. The new surveillance systems she'd discovered in the harbor spread throughout the city like wildfire. Camera networks began tracking individuals through crowds. Behavioral scoring systems appeared, first as "pilot programs," then as mandatory requirements.
Xian watched her father's face grow more troubled each day as he came home from the Monetary Authority. She intercepted enough network traffic to know why - the systems were hungry, just as Bryan had said. Hungry for data, for control, for compliance.
One evening, her father came home early. His face was ash-gray.
"Pack a bag," he said quietly. "Just essentials. We're taking a trip to visit your aunt in Vancouver."
Xian knew they had no aunt in Vancouver.
That night, as they boarded a flight that would eventually lead them to America, Xian sent one last message through an obscure newsgroup:
"Mouse is running. The cat's awake."
The response came via a terminal at the airport's business center:
"Safe journey. The shepherd watches the flock."
In apartment 238 on Broadcast Drive, Xian's bedroom window offered a clear view of Kowloon's neon-painted skyline. The small room barely fit her bed and desk, but its location was perfect - high enough to pick up stray network signals from nearby buildings, close enough to the harbor for her late-night investigations.
The OmniBook hummed on her desk, its screen casting a pale green glow across her collection of computer magazines and programming manuals. From somewhere below came the endless chatter of the dai pai dong food stalls, mixed with the electronic symphony of a city racing toward its uncertain future.
As Xian worked through the coded messages on the floppy disk, a police siren wailed on Nathan Road, making her jump. The sound brought back memories of the harbor, of Bryan's warning. She glanced at her door, making sure it was locked. Her father was working late again at the Monetary Authority - these days, he always worked late.
The apartment's old air conditioner struggled against Hong Kong's summer heat, dripping condensation onto the rusty security bars outside her window. Xian had learned to use its steady hum to mask the sound of her modem connecting late at night, when she explored the hidden corners of networks she wasn't supposed to know existed.
Hong Kong - Broadcast Drive, Right before Dinner, June 28, 1997
Xian knew something was wrong the moment her father stepped into their apartment. David Lee had always been meticulous about his routine - shoes off, briefcase in the study, tie loosened only after dinner. But tonight, he walked in still wearing his shoes, his tie already hanging loose.
"收拾行李，帶輕嘅嘢。咩都唔好帶貴重嘢。" (Sau sik hang li, daai heng ge ye. Me dou m hou daai gwai chung ye.) The Cantonese flowed rapidly from her father's lips, his voice barely above a whisper.
Xian stood frozen in their small living room, the evening news still playing silently on the TV. Her father moved past her to the safe hidden behind her grandmother's portrait.
"Bà," she started, but he cut her off.
"Now, Xian. One bag. Your mother's already at your uncle's shop."
As Xian hurried to her room, she heard the distinct sound of papers being sorted. She knew the signs - had seen other families disappearing quietly in the weeks before the handover. But they had stayed, trusted the promises of 'one country, two systems.'
Something had changed.
Her hands moved automatically, grabbing essentials while her mind raced. The OmniBook went into her backpack first, along with the backup floppy disk. Regular clothes, nothing fancy. Her passport - the British-issued one her father had insisted on getting last year.
A soft tone from her computer made her freeze. A new message on the encrypted channel Bryan's group used:
"Dragon wakes early. Take the night bird south. Shepherd's friends wait at Gate 5."
Xian's fingers flew across the keyboard, typing a quick acknowledgment. Even as she did, she heard her father in the hallway, speaking quietly into his phone in English:
"Yes, understood. The Vancouver routing. Under Lee, David and family."
They left the apartment looking like any other family heading out for dinner. Her father even told Mrs. Wong next door they'd bring back dessert from the Night Market. But they didn't turn toward the market. Instead, they walked quickly to the MTR station, boarding a train that would take them to the airport.
Xian noticed things her father probably missed - the security cameras that turned to follow them, the unmarked van parked near the station, the way certain passengers seemed too interested in their phones.
Kai Tak Airport, Hong Kong
At Kai Tak Airport, her father headed for the check-in counters. But Xian remembered: Gate 5.
"Bà," she said quietly, "I need to use the washroom first."
He nodded, distracted by the paperwork he was reviewing. Xian walked toward the restrooms but turned down a service corridor instead. A cleaner nodded to her - a Westerner despite his uniform, with the same sharp awareness she'd seen in Bryan.
"Lost your way, little mouse?" His Scottish accent was thick but friendly.
"The shepherd sent me," Xian replied, using the phrase she'd memorized.
"Aye, that he did." The man touched his radio. "Package received."
What followed was a blur of activity. Her father, looking confused but not surprised when airport security quietly pulled their family aside. A brief reunion with her mother in a private office. New papers, new identities, a different flight path that would take them through Singapore and Seoul before reaching Vancouver.
"Friends of friends," her father said simply when she asked, as they boarded their first flight. "From my banking days."
But Xian saw the same StarTAC phone she'd seen Bryan use, sitting in her father's jacket pocket. She understood then - her father had his own connections to the shepherds.
Their escape was timed perfectly. Three days after they left, the systems Xian had discovered in the harbor went fully active across Hong Kong. New cameras, new monitoring, new control.
But by then, the Lee family was in Vancouver, beginning their journey to a new life in America. And Xian had learned her most important lesson: sometimes the best escape routes aren't on any map, digital or otherwise.
Wondercraft narrates this Episode. Please provide feedback via the comments.
