BA3 - Chapter 26

I’d managed to control my feelings of hopelessness by the time we came ashore. There was another group of Enjiho waiting with towels and my warmed clothes. I changed, keeping my head empty with practiced breathing Woong-ji had taught me in my first year.

Mae was quietly analyzing information I’d been able to pick up about the Valeria—Hiro’s ship—and every once in a while an image would flash through my consciousness. I wondered why her processing was becoming more and more visible to me, but I didn’t think about it too hard.

No thoughts for now.

I emerged from the changing room to see Dokun waiting for me. His forehead was creased in concern, and his lips turned down in a frown.

“Would I be able to speak to you for a moment before you return to school?”

I looked to Hana and Woong-ji who chatted amongst themselves near the train platform. Hana caught my gaze, but kept her expression neutral. After a tense second, she nodded as if to say she’d be watching out for me.

“Surely, sir,” I said, gesturing for him to sit at one of the luau tables under the canopy.

We took a seat and one of the Enjiho knelt beside us. A compartment opened on the machina’s wide chest to reveal a chrome cylinder. It removed the object and set it on the table in front of Dokun.

He twisted the bottom of the object and it spun, revealing two small cups in a hidden compartment. Then he turned the top until a hole on the outer ring aligned with the inner cylinder. He tilted the hole over the cups and out poured a clear, jade green liquid from the incognito thermos. I felt the urge to take it from him, to pour the tea as a younger family member should and stopped myself just short of reaching over the table.

I held my hand up to stop him instead. “I mustn’t put you out.”

“Nonsense,” he said, pushing the first cup toward me.

My childhood conditioning required me to accept the cup, but I didn’t drink. The warmth of it was nice on my hands, and I gripped it in both.

“I feel terrible for not reaching out to you. I never had my own children, and your father was something of a son to me. I wished I’d been able to put aside my shame and supported your family.”

I scowled. “What shame?”

He pulled in a deep breath, eyes closed, then took a sip of his tea. “I am responsible for your mother’s and sister’s conditions.”

The words hung in the cool night air like a specter. This was his shame? He’d worried over our personal hatred of him because of the potion he’d given my mother?

“She chose to take it. If there is blame to share, yours is little more than mine.”

His eyes snapped open. “What blame do you carry?”

I looked down at the tea. “She only took the potion because of me. She was jealous.”

“Oh, Jiyong.” He reached across the table, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You have done nothing to shoulder this burden.”

“You always wanted more! Just like her!” My father’s voice raked open the old wound from when Mother told me the story on the balcony. If I hadn’t been so hungry to advance, Minjee wouldn’t be a mute, My mother would be healthy. Father would’ve been home to raise his family. We would’ve lived normal, happy lives.

“I can see you’re still fighting those feelings,” Dokun said with kindness.

I looked up. “You’re reading my thoughts?”

Dokun grimaced in disgust. “Never. Such a horrible intrusion of privacy. But I could see your feelings are all over your face. You feel responsible, and nothing anyone says will change that, will it?”

I sighed and shook my head. “I’ll be absolved when my mother is cured, and Minjee is strong.”

He scowled, scrutinizing me with appraisal. He drank his tea in silence, then gestured for me to hand over my full cup. He tossed the liquid in the sand and returned the cups to their cubby at the bottom of the thermos.

We stood and he placed his hand on my shoulder again as he steered us toward the train platform. “I wanted you to know you can always come to me if you need anything.” Then he smirked and said, “Whether your instructors are here to kill me or not.”

I chuckled, feeling strangely at ease. I paused and bowed. “Thank you, sir.”

“Shall we get you three back to Anbura?” Dokun offered.

We climbed aboard the waiting train. Hana was quick to pull me away to a corner, squeezing my hand nervously. There’d be no feasible way to hold a private conversation, but I think more than anything, she wanted me nearby.

Dokun had the street below Anbura cleared so he could drop us at the base of the hill. He bid us farewell, reminding me to take his offer to heart, and then left us to the climb. We were quiet on the way up. Some part of me burned to ask Woong-ji just what was going on, but I kept my mouth shut. I couldn’t trust anything she had to say—especially not when Ena’s eyes and ears were everywhere.

Ena, as well as three bowls of rice and fish, was waiting for us when we passed the entry hall. I devoured my portion with thanks, avoiding all of Ena’s questioning glares.

“I’d like to see you in my office,” she said when I’d finished my food.

“The truth will not change by morning. Let the boy get some rest,” Woong-ji interjected for me.

Ena glowered, then looked to me with a dismissive nod. I bowed, thanked her, and made my way up the stairs. My body was heavier than my eyelids, and everything ached. My once-numb leg shook with every step up, and I took the stairs at a painfully slow pace. Finally, we reached the top level of dormitories.

“I’ll give you a zo massage before bed to help,” Hana offered with a smile.

I shook my head. “I need to cleanse the infusion from my system first. I’ve waited longer than I should.” I pushed a strand of stray black hair behind her ear, then pecked her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Her smile weakened. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”

She turned away, head down and shoulders bunched up to her neck. I shouldn’t have let her walk away feeling like that—as if I’d rejected her because of what she’d done. But I didn’t stop her. She rounded the corner and disappeared, leaving me at my dorm door.

I collapsed into my bedroll. It wasn’t as soft as the beds back at Bastion, but it felt like a cloud compared to what I’d been through. I sighed deeply and rolled onto my back. I smelled, but showers, dental hygiene, and anything else would have to wait. The zo infusion in my muscles could turn debilitating if not handled.

Air filled my lungs in rhythmic cycles as I created zo from the late dinner and sent it to unentangle the infusion from my muscles. I started with my legs, the worst off of anything else. It was like pulling hundreds of tiny needles through my skin every second. It tickled mostly, but when I struck a nerve wrong, I’d get a jolt of stabbing pain through to the bone and up my spine.

I went on like this, though drowsiness pulled me away from the task every minute, for at least an hour. Finally, my body was cleansed and the infused zo broken down for core mass. I spent time rotating my impressive third band. Most interesting was the fat, sixth block that created the red, hijacking munje_TK.

The block filled my vision and I inspected it even more closely. There was a thin sheet like glass inlaid at the center of the block, where the energy would flow through to the core. I’d never looked so close at a block before, and so I was surprised to see the same clear sheet in the blocks of the second band, and the first.

So, it was no different in form. What was so special about this block that it could create the new munje type?

“I could’ve been when you absorbed the shūspekta’s energy, you consumed information as well. You overheated and passed out in part due to the massive amount of data processing your brain was doing. It could’ve been you were learning from that, uh, creature. It’s interesting to think that nanites themselves could’ve formed into a mimic of a living creature. I wonder about sentients…”

She trailed off and I let the vision of my core fade. Rustling across the room, then footsteps across the floor roused my interest. It came from the other end where both Ko-nah and Genta slept. The footsteps were lighter, as if they intended to be quiet.

My foot was nudged as they passed, and I instantly became alert. I cracked on eye to see Ko-nah slipping out the door to the hall.

I closed my eyes again, leaning my head back. For Jigu’s sake, I just wanted to sleep. But I couldn’t keep wandering around in the dark with my eyes closed. I needed to do everything in my power to understand what was going on, and since no one else felt keeping me informed was a priority, I’d have to take it upon myself.

I got up, then tiptoed to the door. I slipped out, wincing from my aching muscles. Ko-nah moved down the central hall to tk_the shoot. He was going slow enough for me to follow, but didn’t look back. He jumped into the wind tunnel and blasted straight up. After another moment, when he didn’t come down, I stepped to the edge and looked up.

Silvery purple ry munje lit the opening of the top, but I couldn’t see anything else. I shook my head at the stupidity of my thought. I was superior to Ko-nah physically—on good days. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

I created enough en to cast the air bending_tk(wtf was it?) spell, then stepped through the opening. In a whoosh, I was thrown out of the school through the top, just like my first day. I looked out across the twinkling horizon with wonder. Kokyu was still awake.

“Paddle forward,” Ko-nah said.

I looked down to see him a few meters below me on the slanted roof of the building. I made a forward swim motion and eased out of the blowing stream of air. Gravity resumed control of my body and I held my arms out in the stop motion, dropping unceremoniously onto the roof with a thud.

Ko-nah walked out on one of the four beams supporting the massive roof. I followed tentatively, staying at least two meters back in case of a surprise attack. I looked from pillar to pillar, trying to spot any of the very well-hidden cameras I assumed would be up here. I still had a fair amount of energy from dinner, and began cycling for ma, just in case.

“Ena?” I asked, hoping he gleaned my meaning from the single word.

“Too much interference from the enry spell created by th_the shoot.” He gestured toward the air current behind me.

I scowled. “What spell?”

Ko-nah chuckled. “You didn’t think Ena would let anyone walk up to her doorstep, did you? She protects the whole hill with all kinds of traps.”

Not the information I came for, but still good to know. “What do you want?”

He laughed again. “This is about what you want, Jiyong. Information. Feeling a little lost?”

A breeze picked up over the treetops, chilling my skin. I crossed my arms. “Why do you think I’d listen?”

He shrugged. “You were just betrayed by your girlfriend, your mentor, your buddies—you’re out of options.”