Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020complete | Page 486

Mission Impossible
St. Paul's Convent School, Chan, Andrea - 15
“What do you mean by ‘there is nothing unsatisfactory’ in Line 17 of the report? Surely, the Greater Bay Area
isn’t perfect!” The bureaucrat sputtered, his voice full of disbelief.
“Sir, my deepest apologies for not being able to complete mission #526.”
I recall I finished all the missions given before – some even a week before the deadline. This was an exceptional
case.
“The Greater Bay Area – it is a utopia, sir.” I blurted out with a great deal of confidence, momentarily
forgetting the rules that a spy should follow.
My breath seemed to freeze in my lungs before I let it go, feeling the tension rising. Taking a deep breath, I
braced myself for the infinite scolding I would encounter.
Nothing. Nothing happened. Thick silence engulfed me, reddening my cheeks to a hue of bright crimson.
The official raised an eyebrow, probably amused by my reaction. I could feel his chocolate brown orbs piercing
through my soul, creating an aura of intimidation.
“H, report your sightings. I don’t believe that this so-called ‘Greater Bay Area’ is that fantastic.” Sir sneered, his
words like knives, slicing through the thin air.
I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my blood, shutting down my ability to think logically.
“Yes, sir.”, I stammered as my insides warmed from remembering the tranquility of the Greater Bay Area.
-
Peering out of the window of the bus that travelled along the Hong Kong–Zhuhai–Macau Bridge, I gazed at the
pure, uninterrupted azure that stretched seamlessly across my field of vision. Transparent flying cars filled the sky,
different from the bare blue-tinted white ones of my hometown in Russia.
What a pity that I am on a tight budget. Or else, I would be up there, in a renowned algae-powered flying car,
enjoying the aesthetic view of the serene blue along with a cup of freshly brewed expresso. We owe it to the
scientists of the Greater Bay Area who have successfully harnessed electricity from algae, an issue that puzzled
many around the world.
The ear-splitting noise of a blown whistle pierced through my chain of thoughts. I glanced up at the cerulean
sky, spotting Ronald Chan, a famed F1 racer powering up one of those transparent flying cars, gifting them life.
Of course. The Greater Bay Area has incorporated Macau’s infamous car race traditions, and has the fastest cars
on the planet.
My brows furrowed, eyes narrowing, baffled by the peculiar phenomenon. Strange. No clouds of suffocating
exhaust blasted out when the engines sputtered to life. Perhaps, it was due to the use of algae as an alternative
clean energy source?
-
Skyscrapers surrounded me when I stepped into the city. Acres of glass strung together with shiny steel, gracing
the skyline with its presence, reflecting light. The streets seem brighter.