Chapter One: The Ninth Photograph

The performer was Lin Mi, twenty-five, five foot six according to her contract. She wore a silver half-mask, a blue gradient cape over her right shoulder, and a star-shaped lamp on her chest that flashed every seven seconds. The costume was cheap. She stood as if it were not—as if a real city waited behind her to be saved. “Last sequence.” Shen raised his camera. “On cue. Look upper right, turn your shoulder, make a fist.” The shutter rattled. Lin looked upper right, turned, and clenched her fist. Every movement was precise, inexpensive, perfect for an elevator ad. Shen took nine frames and lowered the camera to review them. The first was normal. In the second, Lin's gaze had shifted toward the lens. In the third, her fist was open.