by J D Astra
“There is the matter of your schooling,” said a familiar old voice, and I looked to the door. It was Grandmaster Min-hwan. My friends took a step back from my bedside as the Grandmaster approached. “You’ve missed many lessons.”
Dread pooled in my stomach, and Min-hwan put out a hand as if to calm me. “You can always come back as a first year again next season, or—we understand due to the malfunctioning technology—if you’re no longer interested in attending Bastion.”
I shook my head. “Of course I still want to attend. Is there no other way that I could graduate to a second year at the end of this semester?”
Min-hwan’s white eyebrows furrowed in thought. “As said, you’ve missed a considerable amount of school.”
Tightness filled my chest as I thought about my future slipping through my fingers. I couldn’t be a first year again. I needed an apprenticeship to afford my family’s needs while I attended next year, and I couldn’t have an apprenticeship before graduating my first year. I looked to my friends, their faces full of worry. I didn’t want to be a full year behind them, either.
I swallowed hard. “I’ll catch up. I’ll do classes at night, on the rest day, through the off season... I’ll do anything.”
The grandmaster hummed in interest. “The true spirit of a Bastion. If there are willing instructors, this may be possible. I will discuss with them and return to you with a verdict tomorrow. For now, rest and recover.” He touched my shoulder, a pained smile squinting his eyes.
“Is there anything I can do to speed my recovery, Grandmaster?” I asked, hopeful.
He nodded. “Practice your zo.”
“I will,” I promised, determined not to let this chance get away from me. I just needed a few willing instructors, and I could do this.
“Come along, students. Let’s give him time to rest.” The man in the white hanbok ushered my friends away.
Hana stepped up to my bedside and leaned in, whispering. “We’ll be back tonight.”
I held her hand as she pulled away, and we locked gazes. “Thank you.”
She left without another word. When my room was empty, I laid back in bed and stared out the window. What the hell had happened to me? What had happened to Mae? Was she still in there, or was she destroyed?
“I’m here,” Mae’s voice whispered through my mind, and I sat up with a start, only to tsk at the pain in my side.
“Where are you?” I asked as I touched the disc imbedded in my chest.
“Here,” she said again, and light shimmered at my bedside until Mae’s form took shape. She wasn’t her typical transparent blue, but a full-color person who looked to be almost real. I reached out to touch her.
She whispered as she watched my hand pass through her. “I’m so sorry, Jiyong.”
“What is this?” My breath caught in my throat.
“I made a grave error, and now we both have to live with the consequences.”
“Which are?” I asked, feeling frustrated heat in my face.
She cringed. “I hope you wanted a roommate in your mind, because I live here too, now.”
The blood drained from my face and darkness crept in around the edges of my vision. My heart hammered in my chest, and my throat tightened. The gentle hum in my ears grew to a loud buzzing, and I fell back against the pillows.
Mae put her hands out and shook her head. “But before you completely freak out, I have a plan.”
I closed my eyes in frustration. “You’re in my body, my mind. What plan could remedy this?”
“It’s long and complicated, but here’s the condensed version. While I don’t know what happened to my world, I have a much better understanding of yours now, thanks to your memories.”
My eyes shot open, and Mae was still at my side. “You viewed my memories?” I asked, offended.
She sighed. “What else was I supposed to do for five weeks?”
Indignant heat swelled in me, somehow making the agony of my muscles worse. I nodded for her to go on.
“So, the people you call ‘The Ancient Ones’ are the people who made me, and they created a lot of devices complex and stable enough to house my intelligence. If we can get our hands on one, you can offload me into that.” She smiled, as if that was all there was to it.
“Where can we find one of these devices?”
She grimaced. “That’s the only problem. I don’t detect anything that complex and stable nearby. Your body has increased my detection radius by several dozen meters, but we’ll have to be fairly close for me to pick anything up in detail. If we work on improving your nanite creation—build up your core—amplify your broadcast range, and a few other factors, that radius will widen, and the detection will become more accurate over time.”
I nodded. “So, we’re stuck together, potentially for the rest of our lives.”
“Potentially. But the good news is that I know you very well now, and I really like you. Your dreams and aspirations, your thoughts and feeling, your challenges... you’re so alive!” She held up a fist, and her eyes glimmered with excitement.
My head ached, and I closed my eyes. “That’s wonderful for you. I’m going to need boundaries. I need privacy. You can’t be in my every thought.”
“I understand and completely agree. And,” she paused, sighing, “I’m sorry for everything.”
I took a deep breath to calm myself. What had happened, happened, and now we needed to figure out how to make the best of it and keep moving forward.
“Exactly one of the reasons I like you so much!” Mae said with joy, and I opened my eyes.
“No. This is a good example. No reading my thoughts,” I said as I shook my finger at her.
She bowed. “I apologize. I’ll do my best not to listen, but I do live in there, too.”
“Fine. Your best is all I ask for.” I leaned my head back and focused on my breathing. It was time to start cleansing my body, recycling whatever I could, and get myself back out to school.
“Jiyong?” Mae asked, and I cracked an eyelid, looking for her. She was still at my bedside, a wincing smile on her face.
“What is it?”
Her blue eyes glimmered with tears. “Thank you.”
Chapter 21
HANA, CHO, AND YURI snuck in through my window that night, and I explained the situation with Mae.
“We’re here to help you however we can,” Cho said when I finished. I nodded gratefully. I was going to need all the help I could get.
“Mae and I agree that the primary concern for now will be to get me back into school. We know that getting an apprenticeship with the Guild of Historians is our best bet of locating a device sufficient for housing her consciousness, so we’re going to work extra hard to graduate.” It felt strange saying “we think” and “our best bet,” but this was my life. At least, for now.
“Whatever you need, we’ll help!” Yuri declared, a fiery passion in her eyes.
Hana was less enthusiastic, but smiled her affirmation.
Cho stifled a yawn, and I put my hand on his shoulder. “You should get back to your lodges and rest so we can be ready to get to work tomorrow.”
He nodded. “I’ll be here bright and early to get you for breakfast.”
Cho and Yuri moved toward the window, but Hana lingered. She waved them on with a, “Be right there.”
The others left, but Hana didn’t look back to me.
“What is it?” I asked, wanting to reach out for her hand.
She took a deep breath. “This is all my fault.”
I scowled. “How?”
There were tears in her eyes when she looked at me. “If I had just run like you wanted, this wouldn’t have happened.”
I shook my head as I recalled the fight. Running had been my first instinct, but it may have landed us in an even worse situation.
“That doesn’t make this your fault,” Mae whispered through the damaged speaker on the disc in my chest. “If there is anyone to blame, it’s me, Hana. I amplified Jiyong’s nanites�
��eh, his munje—without considering what the consequences might be. I know now his munje was not advanced enough to endure what I put it through... we’ll have to be very careful.”
“Enough from both of you,” I said with finality. “It doesn’t matter who is to blame. We can’t take a step into the future if our minds are stuck in the past.”
Hana nodded, sniffing back her tears. “You’re right. But still, I’m sorry this happened.”
I didn’t want to pity myself. I didn’t want to spiral down into a pit of despair from which there was no escape. This wasn’t the end of my life. This was just another step, another driving force to move myself to the future I wanted for me and my family.
“I’m not,” I said as I touched her hand. Her skin was smooth, but cold—so unlike the night I had held her in the alley. “With your help, I can make it through anything.”
She chuckled and blinked away the last of her tears. “So much pressure.”
I shook my head. “No pressure. We both need rest.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gave my hand one gentle squeeze, then broke away, leaving me alone with Mae.
I leaned back and focused on my breathing until I drifted into sleep. A gentle chime rang, and I opened my eyes. The sun hadn’t breeched the horizon yet, and my room was empty.
“I hope you don’t mind that I woke you,” Mae said, and I suppressed my start. Her voice popping up in my head was going to take a lot of getting used to.
“Of course not, thank you. I need to get ready,” I whispered and realized that if Mae and I were going to talk to one another, talking out loud to someone who wasn’t there was going to give the appearance that I was crazy.
“Mae, remember how I said no listening to my thoughts?” I asked quietly.
She hummed with amusement. “Yeah, that’s not going to work, is it?”
“All I ask is that you give me the illusion of privacy, please. Thoughts that you shouldn’t listen to, just don’t say anything, okay?”
“Like thoughts about Hana?”
My cheeks flushed, and I contained my groan. “Yes. Exactly.”
“Sorry. I’ll work on that.”
I rubbed my eyes and thought, ‘Please do.’
I flexed my toes and slid my legs off the side of the bed. I put pressure on the balls of my feet and scooted forward. My thighs trembled with weakness at the movement. A few deep breaths later, I pushed off and stood, keeping my hands on the railing of the bed for support. I needed to get a lot stronger, fast.
“I have a plan for that too,” Mae said in my mind.
‘I’m all ears.’ I chuckled at this since I wasn’t using my ears to hear her at all.
“The stuff you call energy truly is that; energy, but not the same way you’re thinking of it. There’s nanites—teeny tiny machina—in the air, the soil, all the food you eat and water you drink. These nanites are broken down and converted in the thing you call your core, and I still don’t have a good explanation for what happens in there. Anyway, I can guide you in picking the right stuff to eat to help increase the munje conversion rate so you can build your core and restore your muscles faster.”
‘So, the Machina Core Theory is correct,’ I mused. I pulled my hands off the bed and stood with my full weight on my legs.
“You shouldn’t push yourself too hard,” Mae warned, and I shook my head.
‘There’s no time to be gentle.’
I took a few shuffling steps forward and recalled the glimmer Hana had cast on me, turning me into an old man. Now I felt like that old man looked, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. A few zo-assisted squats later, my sore legs felt a little stronger. I cycled more munje through my core and stored up as much zo as I could, then grabbed my school clothes.
There was a mirror in my room, so I inspected myself. I’d gotten thin. There was an angry red scar spread across my chest like a tree with many branches. It grew thicker the closer it came to the melted disc in my left pectoral. I touched the skin again, tracing the lines across my body.
The same scar had surged up the back of my neck, and there was a freshly shaved patch on the side of my head over my ear where the scar finally ended. I followed the lines gingerly, wincing at the pain it shot through my skull.
“When my system shorted out, your ma munje collided with my ionized nanites, creating a coulomb explosion. It took everything I had not to let the immense energy destroy us, and the result was our unfortunate fusion, and your scarring.”
‘Well, at least we didn’t explode.’
I pulled my school dobok on, wincing and gritting my teeth as the rough material scratched across my fresh scars. I strapped a quick bandage to the skin around the disc, which improved the pain significantly. This would have to do.
There was a knock at my door, and the man in the green-trimmed white robes led Cho and Grandmaster Min-hwan into the room.
“Ah, you’re already up,” the robed man said with an air of surprised optimism.
I bowed deeply to him. “Thank you for all your hard work in restoring my body. I’ll take it from here.”
He chuckled. “I can’t wait to see your progress. Before you go,” he said as he pulled a short, carved stick from behind his back. He held the cane out to me. “Just in case, you should walk with this until you’re strong enough. It’s critically important that you keep your movement up, every day. If you push too hard and hurt yourself, you’ll become bedridden again, losing that momentum in restoring your body to what it once was.”
I didn’t want to be the only student at Bastion Academy walking with a cane, but if I became bedridden again, I’d surely be departing at the end of the year without an invitation to a second. Risking a second term for my pride was not an option.
I bowed and pulled the smoothed bamboo cane into my grip. It was nice, and sturdy, but for a fifteen-year old to need a cane, it seemed ridiculous.
“You won’t need it for long,” Min-hwan said with a smile. “I can already see you will be growing beyond it soon.
“Now, for your schooling. You are fortunate that news of your incident spread far and wide, and there are several instructors willing to take you on for private sessions to help you get up to speed. I’ve made the additions to your schedule—a new schedule.” He chuckled and held out a metal disc. “We checked this device for malfunctions, and it’s in tip-top shape, but perhaps you should keep it in your bag, instead.”
I accepted the disc and bowed lowly. “Thank you, Grandmaster. I will not disappoint you.”
My back burned from all the bowing. I put the cane down, leaning into it gently. It wasn’t so bad, and it wasn’t forever.
Min-hwan nodded. “Best of luck, Jiyong.”
I appreciated the statement, but I wouldn’t need luck. I had something far more powerful on my side. “Thank you.”
Grandmaster clapped the robed man on the back and led him from the room, leaving me with Cho. He gave me a rough time about the cane—all in good fun—and we headed to breakfast at a reasonable-for-me pace. Cho and Yuri both tried to help me with my bowl, which I refused, much to their dismay. I wasn’t going to get accustomed to being served or babied. I was going to do this with their help, but not in that way.
Mae spoke up as I moved to slide a serving of fresh-seared pork belly onto my plate. “Nope, none of that. It’ll constrict your blood vessels and make it more difficult for your munje to flow.”
I grumbled but put the pork belly back on the tray and moved on, grabbing an extra serving of eggs and kimchi instead. I made it through the line a little slower than normal, but no one directly behind me complained.
‘I know plenty of people who have pork belly and no problems with munje flow,’ I remarked to Mae as I made my way to a nearby empty table.
“Yes, but they don’t have a lot of healing to do. You can have it again when you’re back to where you used to be.”
‘All the more reason to get there sooner.’
She appeare
d in the seat across from me—only in my mind—and smiled. “That’s the spirit. Motivation. Let’s review your new schedule. I can access it remotely for you if you activate it.”
I sent a trickle of ma munje to the schedule in my pocket, and the text came to life in my field of view. I had all the same classes as before, but now on days I had Core Foundations, I would get an additional thirty minutes to work with Woong-ji one-on-one, and another hour with her after dinner every day for both munje recycling and core work. I had an extra session of Zo Strengthening/Calm I on rest day after breakfast, then a combo class of ry and li catch-up after lunch, but the evening was to myself. This seemed very reasonable.
Mae blew out her cheeks. “Really? I think this is too much. When are we going to get time to work together?”
‘We’ll have every evening before bed.’
She cleared the schedule from my view and crossed her arms. “Uh, I don’t think you’re going to be conscious after dinner most days.”
Yuri and Cho finally made it to the table with an extra bowl, one that had pork belly in it. Cho slid me the bowl with a grin. “I saw you missed this.”
I grimaced as I looked across the table at Mae. “I’m not able to have it while I’m recovering,” I said with resentment.
“Oh,” Cho said and pulled the bowl back towards him, downtrodden.
I gave him a weak smile. “But thank you. When this is over, we should get donuts.”
Yuri thrust her chopsticks in the air. “Yes to donuts!”
“Donuts?” Hana asked as she took the seat next to Yuri.
I looked at her curiously and she smiled. Since when did she sit with us for meals?
“Probably in all those weeks you were unconscious,” Mae reminded me.
‘Hey, treading on the privacy thing.’
“Sorry,” she grimaced and looked away, then disappeared from my vision.
I ate quickly, trying to get as much food in as I could before my shrunken stomach refused to accept another bite. I steeled myself for the day to come, starting with Zo Strengthening I... right under the haughty laser-gaze of Shin-soo.
