Heart of Iron by Ekaterina Sedia

attention could be spared from more profound national problems. I remembered the group of menacing male students following me, and — once I recognized with crystal clarity how defenseless all of us were, how vulnerable — my head began to swim.
    “I will go out, I will try to reason with the scoundrel,” I said.
    “What will you say?” Lee Bo said.
    “This is ridiculous,” Chiang Tse interrupted. “It is only one man in the street, and we have no reason to think he’s looking to arrest someone. We’ve allowed fear to overwhelm us.”
    “It is understandable if you consider my brother’s disappearance,” Lee Bo interjected.
    “At the very least, I can ask,” I said, and resolutely pulled my gloves on.
    When I stepped outside, I realized Lee Bo’s fear was not exaggerated. The Nikolashka Anastasia claimed to have recognized stood under a small arch next to the club’s doorway. Moreover, there were another six men in street clothing milling about and trying to look inconspicuous. When they saw me, most of them turned away, as if looking at something fascinating down the street. The sun had almost set by then, and long shadows twisted around them, hiding their faces and pooling under their eyes.
    “Excuse me, gentlemen,” I said. “I could not help but notice you’ve been here for some time. Are you waiting for anyone in particular?”
    Anastasia’s Nikolashka frowned in my general direction. “Pass along, miss. Official business.”
    “Really?” I stepped closer, even though my heart was fluttering high in my throat. I was close enough to smell onions on his wheezing breath. “Is anyone in this club of interest to you then?”
    He did not answer but turned away with a sigh and a show of irritation.
    “My family,” I said with as much weight as I could muster, “is close to the emperor. I will gladly offer my word of the good character of those inside.”
    Nikolashka jerked his shoulder. “Good for your family then, miss. Now, let me do my job, and I won’t spoil your friendship with the emperor, how’s that sound?”
    I stepped back, unsure of what to do next.
    “And you better not go back into that club,” he said. “You don’t want to be caught consorting with that element, believe you me. Just walk home and get yourself some sleep.” He never addressed my by name, but I got a distinct feeling he knew who I was.
    For a moment, I was tempted to follow his advice. I think what stopped me was a slowly rising anger at being dismissed for not presenting a real threat; in any case, I headed back to the club’s entrance.
    There were a few men leaving the club, none of whom I recognized. Still, I stood and waited for them to pass through the doors and by the arch. I hoped the Nikolashki would not dare anything while I watched. Perhaps my mere presence would be enough to avert a disaster.
    The next to emerge were Wong Jun, Lee Bo, and Chiang Tse. I pressed my lips together and inclined my head in the direction of the arch. They seemed to understand, and hurried into the gathering darkness.
    “Halt!” called the Nikolashka who smelled like onions. At his command, a few of his comrades stepped forth, surrounding the three men.
    I am not exactly sure what was I hoping to accomplish, but I stepped between Chiang Tse and the Nikolashki. A part of me hoped that the latter would be dissuaded from their pursuits if there were a witness; it had never occurred to me that any real harm might befall me.
    The one who smelled of onions moved to shove me aside, and his arm caught me across the chest, pushing me into the waiting arms of others, while three more stepped forth to apprehend the Chinese students. I struggled out of the men’s hands, appalled by the unclean touch of their corrupt fingers, all the while demanding that my friends be left alone.
    The gas streetlamps were coming on, but the passersby were few, and clearly uninterested in getting involved. All four of us were held by the arms now; only