The Simmering Seas Page 5

  Ryllen looked past them toward the window.

  “Ride’s here. Get it done, Ham. I’ll be better next time.”

  “You’re always at your best, RJ. The floor will be clear for at least an hour.” Ham pivoted to the women and pointed beyond them. “You don’t need to see this. Open the casement and jump in.”

  “What …?” Kara whirled about.

  A public hopper hovered outside the room, its rear passenger gates open. Kara heard a blast and swung back around.

  Ham slipped his weapon into the fold of his Sak’ne suit. Ryllen lay silent, a new burn mark over his heart, his eyes staring into forever. Kara gasped.

  “You … you killed him? How could …”

  “It’s the way he wanted it. Now please, both of you, into the hopper. We need to go.”

  “What? You’re just leaving everything here like this? I don’t …”

  He grabbed her by the shoulder and bared teeth, the first time she felt him losing his patience.

  “Miss Syung. Kara. The matter will be sorted.” He looked away. “Chi-Qua, kindly escort your mistress to the hopper. Now.”

  Chi-Qua grabbed Kara, who resisted.

  “Where are you taking us?”

  “Away from here,” he said. “You prefer to stay? Answer questions from the Constabulary?”

  Kara backed down. This night was rapidly devolving from reckless to catastrophic. She followed Chi-Qua, who opened the casement and moved a chair into position. The leap wasn’t more than three feet. For the moment, Kara didn’t stop to ask how this was possible, or why a hopper conveniently arrived so close to the room. Did Ham know this was a trap? Or was the trap Ham’s by design?

  She told Chi-Qua to leap first. Before she followed, Kara stood on the chair and looked back one more time to the braided man/boy who probably saved her life and died … for what, exactly?

  The jump posed no problem. She took a passenger seat next to Chi-Qua and watched Ham casually step across the gap. He tapped into his hand-comm, and the passenger gates closed down. He made himself comfortable in the forward navigation swivel.

  “Where did you park?”

  Kara thought his question mundane, asked in the midst of routine chatter, as if nothing special happened tonight.

  “Prefect 39, Level 7,” Chi-Qua said. “Hold 14.”

  “Follow,” he said, speaking into the hand-comm.

  The hopper, an on-demand public transport vehicle, engaged its Carbedyne thrusts and swirled out over the ocean for a few seconds then changed course, sweeping back into the city.

  “You owe us an explanation,” Kara said.

  “I owe nothing. I fulfilled our agreement. I heard you out, protected you, and now I send you home.”

  “Four people are dead.”

  “More or less.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Looks are not always definitive. Did we not agree on this earlier?”

  “You said it would be sorted. How?”

  “You don’t want details, Miss Syung. What you want is resolution, which I guarantee. Take advice from someone who has seen every shade of humanity: Good things happen when you tip well.”

  The trip by hopper took less than two minutes. The vehicle settled into a comfortable slot inside the parking lodge close to Kara’s sedan. As they rose to depart, Chi-Qua spoke up.

  “You forgot something, Ham Cortez.”

  “I did?” Ham didn’t leave his seat.

  “Before the shooting, you spoke about a nexus. You said grand schemes fail without it. You said Kara showed you the nexus.”

  He sighed. Kara saw the bewilderment in his eyes.

  “Huh,” he said. “I did at that. I apologize. Appears the disruption threw me off my game. But yes, you’re right. Miss Syung, I now know the connective tissue between your brother’s travel history, why he wanted you to pay close attention to Engineering, and where those ill-gotten, short-term corporate profits are likely being redirected.”

  “What is it for?”

  “Not what. Where. Mangum Island. The smallest in The Lagos, but home to the most expansive research and development facility outside Pinchon. It’s called High Cannon Collective. Your brother made six visits there in the last fourteen months of his life. Not an extraordinary number, but the most among all islands. Officially, High Cannon specializes in Carbedyne shimmer tunnels. Not new tech, but efficient power systems for suboceanic vessels and bases.”

  “I don’t understand. That seems like logical tech for seamasters.”

  “Oh, it is. Assuming that is indeed their product. In the past three years, little Mangum Island has hosted more colonial arrivals than anywhere on Hokkaido. You may not remember: The Chancellors once acted as interplanetary customs agents. Once they left us, the responsibility fell to the regional governments. I keep track, out of an ironic sense of curiosity. Ships from thirteen colonies have passed through Lagos customs, only four of which are established trading partners. The others? No previous history with Hokkaido.”

  Kara didn’t see this theory going anywhere.

  “It doesn’t sound complicated, Ham. We have a technology they need, and now they don’t have to pay Chancellor tariffs.”

  “Hmm. There are only two other colonies with oceans covering more than forty percent of their surface. Neither have visited. Miss Syung, I spent an outrageous portion of my life off-book to shape the Chancellory’s messianic agenda. Mangum Island is not what it seems. Not even close.”

  “Fine. Suppose you’re right. Everything I’ve been searching for leads to Mangum. Where do I go from here?”

  His smile suggested Kara was far outside her league.

  “My suggestion, Miss Syung? Find a place of quiet reflection and linger. You have options. The privileged always have options. For instance, you might decide to take Ya-Li Taron’s hand and close your eyes. There are worse fates. Yes?”

  “And if I decide to pursue this, will you help me?”

  “Unexpected question, given the carnage we left behind tonight. Miss Syung, I will help you on two conditions.”

  “Which are?”

  “One, you allow me to drop the honorific. Two, you’re still alive.”

  Kara laughed at his audacity. However, he did not smile.

  “You can’t scare me off.”

  “No? Too bad. Might I at least call you Kara?”

  “Sure. And what’s your real name? Your Chancellor name?”

  He wiggled a dismissive finger, but she pressed on.

  “I’m smarter than you think, Ham. And I’m stronger. With or without your help, I’m not stopping here.”

  “Then I offer my sincerest wish for good fortune.”

  Kara heard enough. “Home,” she told Chi-Qua, and they stepped outside the hopper. Ham called after them. Kara pivoted toward him.

  “I’m sorry your encounter with Ryllen was so brief tonight,” he said. “He is endlessly fascinating, but he is also a tragic figure. More appalling even than your own history, Miss Baek. For you, family remains an option. Not so for Ryllen. Yet he is resilient. If he fails, he will have a second chance. Then another. Thousands, if necessary. Neither of you have this luxury. If you pursue Mangum, I very much doubt you will celebrate another birthday.”

  He closed the passenger gate, and the hopper’s nacelles ignited.

  They reached Kara’s sedan in bewildered silence.

  “What was he talking about?” Kara said.

  “That we’ve gone as far as we can. Kara, this is too big for us.”

  “No, no. Not that. About the other one. Ryllen. He was going on as if Ryllen were still alive. But … you saw it too. Yes? He shot that boy through the heart.”

  Chi-Qua shaded her eyes. “Please, Kara. Let’s go home.”

  The night turned inexplicable. But she remembered Ham’s question from earlier: “You don’t believe in ‘looks,’ do you?”

  No, she thought. I don’t.

  6

  K ARA TOOK NAV AND
DIRECTED THE SEDAN through the corporate cluster en route to the UpWay. The aerial thoroughfare bustled, the blue glimmer of thousands of Carbedyne nacelles competing for space on three levels. Kara triggered the sedan’s night tint to reduce glare and trusted the AI to keep them safe. She sorted through cascading emotions and knew she wasn’t ready to return home.

  “Tell me something, Chi,” she said. “What do you think would happen if I went to work tomorrow and demanded the Executive Board open an investigation into Mangum Island?”

  “You aren’t serious, but I’ll play along. My first thought? Chairman Yuan will hold your Honorable Father responsible for raising a corporate insurrectionist. Your Honorable Father will have you removed from Nantou. Then he’ll save his own seat on the board by canceling your wedding. Yuan will shove one of his granddaughters to the alter instead. I’d call that the rosy picture.”

  She was right, of course. In this matter, the Syung-Low dynasty would not provide steady footing for Kara.

  “Thank you for being honest. I needed to hear it. Ja Yuan knows what’s happening at Mangum. Nothing escapes his eye.” She swallowed her disgust to state her worst nightmare. “My Honorable Father has been Yuan’s right hand for ten years. He’s at the center. Likely Honorable Mother, too.”

  Chi-Qua lowered her eyes, as if in shame.

  “I am so sorry, Kara. Your brother was strong, but not enough to fight your parents. He would have done their bidding.”

  “They mourned him for so long. Now I wonder: Was it grief or guilt?”

  “Does it matter? If they’re at the center of whatever is happening on Mangum, then it stands to reason the Tarons are, too. The timing for moving up your wedding can’t be a coincidence.”

  This was a puzzle piece Kara had not considered.

  “I thought I’d find answers tonight, but I have far more questions.”

  Chi-Qua removed her prosthetic eyes and her wig.

  “I can hear my Honorable Father now,” she said. “He’d say, ‘Answers imbued with questions – that’s the miracle of life, Daughter.’”

  Chi-Qua’s melancholy tone returned each time she mentioned her parents, neither of whom she’d seen in person for five years. Kara hated that Ham Cortez referenced the fallen Baek family twice. What was his motive in driving home old wounds? Her social status was not in play tonight.

  “Sometimes,” Kara said, “I think Elders feel the need to show great wisdom, so they pass off these philosophical trifles to their children. Your Honorable Father was one of the best. Is. I think my parents stopped trying when they realized I wasn’t listening anymore.”

  The Baeks weren’t the only family to fall from grace after the Chancellors left Hokkaido, but their collapse hit Kara the hardest. Like with many others, it happened overnight during a period of reprisals known as social refinery. Many of the great families of Haansu were suspected of collaborating with the Chancellors against the Hokki people. Extraordinary wealth did not come to The Lagos strictly as a product of hard work and Hokki innovation. In the first months after the Chancellor empire collapsed, families plotted against each other and formed convenient alliances, leaving naked the chosen scapegoats for ill-gotten Hokki wealth.

  Kara never forgot the morning when she strolled across the property boundary and ventured to the Baek estate house to find it deserted. Only much later did she learn how far down the social ladder the Baeks fell. Chi-Qua’s father Teemo, once a member of Nantou’s executive board, remained on the corporate payroll as a custodian housed in the bowels of the complex. He changed his name, using the anagram Kae Motebe.

  Two years after refinery, Kara negotiated Chi-Qua back into her life. The girl joined the Syung-Low staff as Kara’s personal assistant. Her fealty might make possible the rehabilitation of the Baek name.

  Ten years. That was the promise.

  Perr and Li-Ann Syung agreed: If Chi-Qua performed her duties with exceptional quality, the Haansu hierarchy would lift sanctions. Chi-Qua agreed, but under one condition: She intended to serve using her birth name.

  The friendship that lifted Kara and Chi-Qua through their childhood did not reemerge for many months into Chi-Qua’s service. It was a long climb, for both girls knew the truth: No family was more guilty of collaboration with the Chancellors than Syung-Low.

  “If I pursue this,” Kara said, “I’m not just putting myself and my family at risk. I might destroy any chance to restore Baek.”

  “Kara, there’s no guarantee they’ll hold to the deal. They have all the leverage. I can’t be a part of your decision.”

  Kara visited Kae Motebe four times after she joined BRED to fill him in on his daughter’s life. At his request, she did not tell Chi-Qua. Her father believed she would resent Kara’s access.

  She threw off her wig and orange eyes then replotted the nav. She had to escape the UpWay. Stop. Think. Refocus.

  “I need air,” she told Chi-Qua.

  The sedan left the UpWay en route to Haansu, guided by the binding fields as it dove toward the public park at Bongwoo Curl. They’d come here many times since Chi-Qua joined the Syung staff, but always at height of day, usually for a picnic. It was crowded during those hours, one of the few open spaces on Pinchon’s east coast. Its dramatic cliffs provided a spectacular ocean view; schools of seabirds nested in the cliff face and sought food from visitors. But after sunset, Hokkis turned their attention to the bright lights and dazzling entertainment in the city center, leaving Bongwoo Curl for the Karas of the world who needed to clear their minds in peace.

  She parked the sedan within a few meters of the cliffs and checked the nav readings.

  “Very windy,” she warned Chi-Qua. “Hard out of the northeast. Best we change into our proper clothes.”

  Moments later, they stood inches from the edge in each other’s arms and absorbed the brunt of a chilling yet exhilarating breeze. The ocean, cast in the silver aura of Huryo, was dotted by the distant lights of ships. On the horizon, the faint glow of urban life rose above the sea from the nearest islands. A cloudless sky danced with weak stars which had no power to compete against the moon and the metropolis. Kara saw the true miracle of an unfettered universe – once as she floated among the Kye-Do rings and twice aboard a Nantou yacht in the open sea. Otherwise, everything beyond Hokkaido seemed outside the grasp of her imagination.

  “I know you’re right, Chi,” she said. “It’s too big for us. After what happened tonight, logic says whoever pursues this madness has a death wish. Perhaps I should follow Ham’s advice. Marry Ya-Li and close my eyes. I’ll be drenched in more wealth and surrounded by more sycophants than I already am. I’ll be comfortable. You’ll still be my only true friend. Every time I grow infuriated with Ya-Li, you’ll be there to remind me how I’m a lucky woman.”

  Chi-Qua leaned her head on Kara’s shoulder.

  “You make a strong case, but we know that’s not who you are.”

  “It’s who I need to be.”

  “Is it? Can you bury Lang in the past?”

  “I’ll have to try.”

  “You’ll fail, Kara. You’ve done little else the past three years but follow the trail he left behind. Now that you’ve put most of the pieces together? What? You’re going to surrender?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe there’s a better way.” Kara pointed to Huryo. “I could create a lunar account, transfer a hundred thousand Dims, reserve a spot on the monthly system ferry.”

  Chi-Qua broke into laughter.

  “Huryo? Are you mad? I hear those people live in swamps.”

  “Maybe, but I hear they’re nice swamps. I suspect life is very peaceful. You know, they’ve all but cut off trade since the Chancellors left. They don’t even want Kohlna. I think they see what’s happening down here, and they’d rather keep their distance. They don’t want a flood of Hokki immigrants.”

  “OK. Huryo is out. You’re down to two choices, Kara. Live like a queen for the rest of your life, or you get us both killed trying to uncover a consp
iracy that’s poisoning the continent and who knows what else. I love how you have a conscience, but most people don’t. Not in Haansu. Not anymore.”

  Kara looked over Chi-Qua’s shoulder and glanced back at the glory of Pinchon, its gleaming towers stretching for miles in either direction. So big. So immutable.

  “You always encouraged me to follow my conscience, Chi. If I let go now, I won’t be happy the rest of my life. And if there’s a chance I could have saved this planet but gave up on it …”

  “You’ll never forgive yourself. You might even end up like your brother. Kara, why are you debating this? There’s only one decision for you. But I have a request.”

  “Anything, Chi.”

  “If I’m to be at your side through this, I need to see my parents. Just once. Will you make it happen?”

  “Easy. Give me two days.”

  “I love you.”

  They held each other for some time without another word, but Kara’s mind worked with feverous zeal. She replayed the details of their time at Mal’s Drop, latched onto some theories about what happened and why, and decided how to proceed with Hamilton Cortez. She couldn’t shake the image of Ryllen staring into eternity, smoke rising from the laser burn over his heart.

  I’m missing something important, she thought.

  On the way home, they stashed the doll clothing into a single tiny bag and entered the Syung-Low estate unchanged from their exit.

  Her father was waiting in the central portico, sipping a cup of tea.

  Perr Syung wore his traditional after-hours Hanbak, a full-length robe in shades of blue, silver, and red. Under the flattering lights of the portico, he seemed like a man much younger and debonair. He did not, however, impress Kara. Her father would not wait in this manner unless he planned to disrupt her night; or, to the point, unless he knew precisely when she’d be returning home. That notion gave her pause.

  “Did you bring a rear guard?” Ham asked her after three new visitors – all of whom later tried to kill them – arrived in Mal’s Drop. “No,” she replied. “You assume,” he said.

  Was it possible?

  Kara maintained discipline as she approached the entrance.