Dragon Pearl

by Yoon Ha Lee

  I oriented myself and sped away, but not before the kids had “rammed” my scooter with a hologram of the spire image. Distracted by the sight, I swerved and almost left my designated lane before straightening out. Concentrate, I reminded myself. Don’t get into any trouble.

  Traffic crowded the streets: speeders, which seated up to six; personal scooters like mine; and the occasional pedestrian. On a wealthier world, teams of dragon weather engineers would control the climate. In Hongok, everyone was obliged to wear masks and endure whatever the weather brought.

  At the edge of the Market District, faded neon signs advertised bars and restaurants. Groups of old people gathered around outdoor tables marked with nineteen-by-nineteen grids for playing baduk. A dancer spun and leaped to the beat of an improvised drum. I longed to linger, maybe even watch a match of baduk. At home we had a cheap old set we hardly ever took out anymore.

  Instead, I parked my scooter in a designated area in walking distance of the spaceport. The vehicle itself was dented and its paint job could have used retouching, but Mom had insisted on buying the best biometric lock we could afford. It was programmed to recognize the way the adults, Bora, and I drove, and it would seize up if anyone else attempted to make off with the scooter. No one was allowed to park here overnight, so the authorities would use its tracker to identify the owner and levy a fine when I failed to return tonight. Sorry, Mom.

  The Market District enfolded me. People shoved past without apologizing, or spoke rapidly in loud voices. Whenever I spotted the guards with their distinctive blue armbands, I slipped sideways into the crowd.

  Just when I was congratulating myself on having evaded a swaggering knot of guards, another group of officers pelted from a side alley and ran into me. I yelped.

  “Watch yourself, citizen!” said one of the guards, her brows lowering as if I’d caused the collision.

  It was too late to duck away and lose myself amid a chattering group of tourists in out-of-season robes. “Excuse me,” I said, reining in my impatience. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

  “Obviously not.” She looked me up and down, as though my clothes were broadcasting criminal intentions. Only then did I realize that she was only a few years older than me, scarcely an adult.

  Three other guards had taken notice. “Hey, Eunhee, what’s keeping you?” one of them called out. “That girl giving you trouble?”

  The officer who had spoken had the flushed skin of someone who had been drinking too much cheap wine, and he reeked of the stuff. The last thing I wanted was a confrontation with drunken guards.

  But in short order, the rest of them surrounded me.

  “Haven’t seen you here before,” the tallest guard said, regarding me sourly. The guard had a scar slashing across their face and an empty left eye socket, not even a cybernetic replacement. Like all the guards, they wore a badge with their family name on it. This particular badge also had a small symbol next to the name that let me know they should be addressed neutrally, as neither female nor male.

  “No, Officer,” I said in my most respectful tone. “I live out in one of the steadings.” Giving even this much detail made me wince, but I couldn’t get away with saying nothing.

  “Pretty well dressed for a steader,” Eunhee said. Her gaze settled on my hands.

  My fingers twitched. The emerald rings that Charm had provided me were nicer than any jewelry my family owned. The rings wouldn’t last long once they were off my hands, but what choice did I have? Especially since I wanted to hang on to my money, which had the virtue of being real.

  I slipped the largest ring off my finger and toyed with it, saying, “I’m afraid I’m going to get lost in here.” If I couldn’t escape the guards, maybe I could wrangle something out of them. Why not a personal escort? They might be useful for fending off thieves.

  Eunhee’s eyes brightened with greed. “Something could be arranged.”

  The tallest guard shook their head but didn’t do anything to interrupt the transaction. “Where are you headed, anyway?”

  I thought quickly. I should be here to buy something. What wouldn’t cost too much but would prove handy once I got into space? To my mortification, my stomach rumbled before I could come up with an answer.

  Eunhee laughed, then plucked the ring out of my grasp. A tickling sensation fizzed through my bones. The ring flickered like a malfunctioning hologram as Eunhee slipped it on her little finger. Had she noticed? No, she grinned down at it with a covetous smile. I knew the ring would quietly evaporate into a flutter of spent magic once I was safely out of sight, and I didn’t feel the least bit sorry for her.

  “You’re clearly in need of a feeding,” the tallest guard said with a trace of malice. “We’ll show you a good place to fill your belly, and in return you can treat us to a few drinks?”

  I bobbed a bow. “Of course!” I said. I was outnumbered, after all.

  The four guards chivvied me along, joking about this merchant or that tourist, or recounting favorite bribes. Remembering the time someone had bought them off with prawns—real prawns, not vat-grown flavored protein—made them smack their lips. I couldn’t help resenting the things they took for granted.

  My heart sank when we stopped in front of a lavish garden with arches covered in artfully arranged vines. Pink flowers drooped from the vines in curling sprays, and their fragrance dizzied me. I couldn’t imagine how much effort the gardeners must have put into maintaining the flowers outside of a hydroponics unit.

  Eunhee shoved me forward into a courtyard full of bamboo tables and chairs. A few other customers were there, enjoying a midafternoon snack. “Go on,” she said, smirking. She pulled out a chair for me at the closest empty table. “This spot looks good. We’ll let you order first.”

  I seated myself demurely and stared at the chopsticks in front of me. The guards dragged over more chairs. A graceful young man emerged from one of the archways, bearing a tray with cups of fragrant jasmine tea.

  The cups were the first clue that I needed to get out of there fast. I recognized good celadon when I saw it. The porcelain’s translucent blue-green sheen was unmistakable. This place was definitely out of my budget range.

  Still, I didn’t want to seem too eager to escape, especially when the officers were already suspicious. Besides, even if they were corrupt, they might have some information to offer me.

  I smiled at Eunhee. “Any exciting news from off-world?” I asked. There was a rivalry between planet-bound security and the Space Forces. The guards might be all too willing to gossip.

  “I haven’t heard anything special,” Eunhee said.

  The tallest guard frowned. “An investigator came through recently. And not just any investigator, either. He came in on a special courier vessel. Even its port of origin was classified. Whatever he’s involved with, it’s big. He was tight-mouthed, though. Probably thinks he’s too important to deal with people like us.”

  I felt a jolt of fear go through me, and I tried not to show it. The investigator’s special status implied that Jun was in serious trouble. More than ever, I wished we could have coaxed further information from the man. But the saucepan had brought an end to that, and I’d left it to my family to clean up the mess.

  Eunhee interrupted my thoughts. “Well, a hotshot investigator isn’t going to linger in a dump like Hongok, so who cares about him?” She stared at my rings. “Those are the biggest emeralds I’ve ever seen.” She reached for my hand.

  I wanted to nip her. The one-eyed guard might have revealed more if she’d let them keep talking.

  I pulled off the rings and cast them on the table, where they spilled in a tumble of facets brighter than cat eyes. “What could be important enough to bring an investigator here, anyway?” I asked Eunhee, though her attention was clearly elsewhere now. “I thought all the action was on”—I picked a random planet I’d heard about on the news a couple days ago—“Maesil.”

  “Oh, that’s old news,” Eunhee said d
ismissively as she tried on another ring.

  A third guard, a man with orange highlights in his spiky hair, joined in. “The real action is in the Ghost Sector. According to a drunk spacer who was spilling secrets last night, a lot of ships—even Space Forces battle cruisers—are gathering there, despite its reputation.”

  The Ghost Sector had earned its name from what had happened to a planet within it, the Fourth Colony, whose entire population had perished when they’d angered disease spirits a few centuries ago. The planet had remained uninhabited ever since, and it was thought to bring bad luck to anyone who tried to land there. Then what was drawing all the ships? I wondered, but I didn’t dare ask my question aloud.

  “I guess even Space Forces Command can’t keep a lid on that much activity,” the one-eyed guard said with a snort.

  “Maybe they’re doing a sweep of the pirates,” ventured the fourth guard. “ ’Bout time, if you ask me.”

  “I’ve heard rumors that the tiger captain—you know, Hwan?—is involved,” said Spiky Hair. “I’ve never trusted supernaturals in positions of power.”

  “I’ve never trusted supernaturals anywhere,” said the fourth guard, and they all laughed.

  Uh-oh. That was my cue to leave, before they figured out what I was. “Uh, I need to wash my hands before we eat,” I said, standing up.

  The one-eyed guard nodded. “Eunhee, go with her.”

  Eunhee looked longingly at the rings I’d left on the table but got up as ordered. We asked the server to show the way, and he led us through the arches and into the restaurant proper. Eunhee walked closer to me than I found comfortable, which was undoubtedly the point. If I’d been an ordinary human, she would have been able to grab me easily.

  We passed a doorway to a private dining room that stood empty. I made the most of the opportunity and snaked out my foot. Eunhee tripped and fell forward, knocking down the server.

  While they were untangling themselves, I dashed into the private room, out of their line of sight. Quickly, I changed myself into the most innocuous thing I could think of: an extra chair.

  “Where did she go?” I heard Eunhee demand.

  The server wasn’t having any of it. “If you have some notion of sneaking your associate in to rob this establishment,” he said in a loud voice, “I assure you that I am not fooled.”

  “What’s all the ruckus about?” The manager had emerged from the back.

  “Your employee is falsely accusing me of being a thief,” Eunhee said. “I could write him up for that. And there could be consequences for your restaurant.”

  By the time they’d taken the argument to the manager’s office, I was only too glad to shift into the form of a server, complete with a uniform and tray, and glide back out the way I’d come.

  It wasn’t until I was several blocks away from the restaurant, when I paused to catch my breath and change into my sixteen-year-old disguise, that it occurred to me—I’d left my backpack behind.

  I’d lost the jades! And, even more precious, the only portrait I had of my family. I couldn’t conjure up replacements—they wouldn’t last. I considered venturing back to retrieve my backpack, but with the restaurant staff on alert and four city guards angry that I’d cheated them of their “emeralds,” that wouldn’t be a good idea.

  How was I going to book passage without real, permanent money? My bad luck today had shown me that magic wouldn’t solve every problem. But now it was literally all I had at my disposal.

  I decided to keep going toward the spaceport and hope for the best. I thought furiously as I hurried through the streets. From what the guards had said, it sounded like something fishy was going on in the Ghost Sector. I wondered if Jun’s battle cruiser was there. If I could somehow find a Space Forces officer, I might be able to trick them into giving me classified info.

  For most of the way, my view had been obscured by Hongok’s spires. I rounded a corner onto the road that led to the spaceport proper and my breath caught in wonder. A dazzle of lights flashed from the landing area, like a necklace of captive stars. A control tower rose from the main building, piercing the sky. It wasn’t as tall as the spires I had passed, but it was better maintained, shining red-gold in the sunlight.

  By now it was late afternoon. I hadn’t made as good time as I’d hoped when I set out, and I didn’t want to be wandering around after dark. There were some hostels near the spaceport, but I couldn’t stay at one of those even if I’d had the money. I wanted to get off-planet tonight, in case anyone was searching for me.

  My heart hammered as I approached the entrance to the main building, which was flanked by two glass booths. Inside each one was a guard wearing a badge that displayed a red star and a stylized dagger, representing airport security. I slowed, not wanting to appear too eager. I’d learned from the news that on a planet like Jinju there were always people desperate enough to try to stow away on a ship and seek a better life on a richer world. The guards were there to prevent that from happening. They were looking out for both the ships’ interests and the would-be refugees’, since some captains weren’t above mistreating unauthorized passengers.

  Unlike other runaways, though, I had the advantage of fox powers. As I joined the line to get in, which was only a few people long, I exerted just a touch of Charm, hoping it would get me past security. I didn’t want to wear myself out using it too often, but this particular hurdle—making it into the spaceport—was a critical one.

  The person in front of me was clearly a spacer. The sleeve of their suit was covered with tiny enamel pins, one for each of the worlds they had visited. Jun and I used to make a game of memorizing the different pins. I’d never been able to remember more than just a few of the most famous worlds. Now I spotted some I knew, though, like Madang, fabled for its gardens. And Cheongok, mostly ocean with scattered archipelagos, where the descendants of dragons sent their children to learn the art of weather-craft. The spacer had even visited Jaebo, known for its staggering wealth, where the rulers of the Thousand Worlds governed from the Pearled Halls.

  Jun had always wanted to visit every one of those worlds. When we were younger, he’d been glued to the holo shows that showed glimpses of life elsewhere. I’d sit by him, enthralled by the stories he spun about traveling together as we squinted at the staticky images. If only I had enough jades to book a tour and see them all myself! It wouldn’t be the same without my brother, though.

  I looked away from the pins, reminding myself of my goal: getting to Jun’s ship. I double-checked my Charm, just in case. The license, when I fished it out, still listed me as Kim Bora, so I’d have to get used to answering to her name.

  “Come forward, citizen, and present your identification,” the security inspector snapped from her booth.

  I flushed. While I’d been woolgathering, my turn had come. I approached and showed her my medallion.

  The inspector scowled at the ID. I started to sweat. But she waved me through the doorway scanner. I heard a faint hum. “Nothing amiss,” the inspector said. “Please continue.”

  Dizzy with relief, I emerged into the brightly lit foyer and paused to get my bearings. The spaceport was busier than I’d expected. Jinju wasn’t exactly a popular destination. Spacers only stopped here to resupply on the way to more interesting places.

  People paid me little attention as they bustled back and forth. Eateries promised the best food in the outer rim, which I doubted, but the smell of vegetable fritters made my mouth water. I hadn’t had anything to eat all day. It was tempting to grab a bite, but I knew I shouldn’t delay.

  Elsewhere, shops hawked sad-looking souvenirs, such as pieces of cloth embroidered in the local style. When I looked at them up close, I could see the stitching was crooked. I wasn’t great at fancy needlework, mostly because it wasn’t something I had time for, but I did do a lot of mending.

  I headed for one of the digital information kiosks along the wall. Below one of the display screens, someone had scratched graffiti with a knife. It
said, in unsteady letters, don’t play dice at nari’s. What looked suspiciously like a blotch of dried blood underscored the word dice. Well, that advice was easy enough for me to follow. I wasn’t good at playing dice, and Charm didn’t make me any better at it, as I’d discovered as a child.

  Too bad I couldn’t simply look up the last known location of my brother’s battle cruiser. That kind of information wouldn’t be available on a public kiosk. I could, however, check a galactic map to see if anyone docked here was headed toward the Ghost Sector. If a lot of Space Forces ships were in that area, maybe the Pale Lightning was among them. The closer I could get to the battle cruiser, the more clues about Jun’s disappearance I could gather. At least that’s what I hoped.

  I hated the idea of my brother being anywhere near the cursed Fourth Colony. I thought back to his message: Together we’ve been exploring a new world, just like Dad. Was that why he had mentioned Dad, because he had somehow gotten involved with ghosts? I shivered at the thought.

  I asked the kiosk for a list of commercial transports that had room for a passenger and might be willing to leave tonight. Just my luck, only one starship was headed anywhere near the Ghost Sector in the next several days: the Red Azalea. It listed its next major stop as a big space hub, Gingko Station, at the edge of the sector. That would work. Once there, I might be able to find out more about the Pale Lightning’s current location.

  I checked the Red Azalea’s safety record and reputation. It was a freighter, not a luxury cruiser, but that wasn’t such a bad thing—it would be easier for me to keep a low profile on a freighter. The kiosk indicated that the captain—Captain Hye—was willing to take on “working passengers” and that she could be found at . . . oh. Nari’s. Apparently Captain Hye liked to gamble during her downtime.