Malware: A Cultivation Academy Series (Bastion Academy Book 2)

by J D Astra

  She. He meant Mae. So, he’d known all along? Of course he had. Woong-ji spoke with him often, and I was sure Min-hwan could read the thoughts running through my mind just as easily as my master could.

  Mae’s voice garbled for a moment, then cleared as she spoke through the speaker on my chest. “Without consuming the product and evaluating its targets from inside Jiyong, I can’t be certain what its purpose is or predict the effects. Death is a real possibility.”

  The instructors—Woong-ji, Li-Zigi, and Sung-ki—gathered around Min-hwan and he addressed them. “Prepare for the worst. If you’ve consumed tea tonight, it might be best you try to purge your system. Sung-ki, mobilize our medical attendants and materials. Li-Zigi, get the fifth-year students gathered. Identify who has consumed tea tonight, and bring the others to me. Woong-ji... you know what to do.”

  The instructors bowed and went on their way.

  “What should we do?” Cho asked in terror, and he held his gut.

  Min-hwan rested a gentle hand on his head. “Rest. I will inform the sungchal, as they are the only ones with permission to raid a home. I don’t know if they will get there soon enough,” he said as his gaze pierced through me.

  “Return to your lodges, purge your systems, and await our message.” Min-hwan turned away. His dismissal twisted my gut, and I followed him. Why wouldn’t he want our help? We had discovered the plot and the actors and had taken all the risks up to this point.

  “Grandmaster, Mae and I are ready to help,” I said, my brow pinched in frustration.

  He turned to me and smiled the way an old grandparent does to an annoying child. “You have done your part. Let us do ours.”

  Chapter 35

  CHO WAS IN A COLD SWEAT by the time we reached the lodge, but Mae confirmed there was nothing wrong with him outside of his anxiety. Hana and I both worked some zo calm on him, and in a few moments, he was asleep in his bed.

  Ko-nah wasn’t in the room, but it appeared all his stuff was still there. Perhaps I was wrong. What if he was just off in some dark corner with the exchange student? The idea felt plausible, but I knew in my gut it was a lie. Ko-nah may already be a master of ry—but where did he learn?

  I walked Hana back to her lodge, my mind in turmoil.

  “The Grandmaster won’t give up. He’ll see it through,” Hana said as she turned back on the porch.

  I took a deep breath of cold night air and straightened my slumped posture. “I know. My concern is that nothing will happen, and this will fade away until it rears its head again. My other worry is something terrible will happen. Half the school or more had enough tea to become infected, and as Mae said, death is a possibility.”

  Mother was slowly dying, too. This could be the answer to her problems if we discovered the truth. There was so much at stake and so much in danger. The lives of hundreds of students...

  Hana ran her fingernails across the scar above my right ear, then pulled my head down to hers. She bumped my forehead, looking into my eyes.

  “We’re going to figure this out,” she whispered, and her words calmed me.

  The scent of lilacs filled my mind, and I knew she was using a ry spell to relax me. I accepted it anyway. I wanted to feel calm. I wanted to know in my heart that everything would work out.

  I put my arms around her and held tight. “Last year, when we were coming into the school for the first time, you tried to infiltrate my mind. Why?”

  “You remember that?”

  “How could I forget?”

  She hummed thoughtfully, then looked away. “It’s a bit shallow. You might not like me as much if you knew.”

  “Try me,” I said with a laugh.

  She sighed, then looked back with a blush. “I was thinking you were very handsome, and I wanted to see how best to approach you.”

  I smirked. “You’re right. That’s shallow.”

  “Oh,” she groaned and shoved my chest, but I held tighter, my stomach filled with excited butterflies.

  “But I still love you just as much.”

  She froze. Her breathing became heavy, and the color in her cheeks deepened. “You love me?”

  A hunger I was becoming all too familiar with swelled in my chest. I ran my hand through her hair.

  “It was inevitable,” I whispered back, our lips tantalizingly close.

  “Into your lodges, students! We will update you within the hour!” Pung-sah’s nasally voice extinguished the flame in me, and I looked toward the instructor. There were others loitering about, chatting—though not as closely as Hana and I had been—who stood and moved toward their buildings.

  “I’ll see you soon.” I pulled away from Hana with frustration. I didn’t want to leave her alone in the lodge when who knew what was about to happen.

  “We will figure this out and fix it. Don’t give up hope.” She stepped backwards up the porch, her fingers sliding off mine as we moved apart.

  “I won’t,” I said with a nod, feeling more positive than I had before.

  I walked toward my lodge, noticing the gazes of the other meandering students—Tae-do and Shin-soo among them—scrutinizing me. A new worry blossomed in my mind. With all the ways I had shown off this year, Mae’s existence was going to be harder and harder to hide.

  “Thank you for thinking of me,” Mae whispered. “There’s something we need to talk about, and you need to be alone. Can you sneak off to the glade?”

  I looked left, right, then behind me. Pung-sah was keeping a watchful eye on every student, but especially me, it seemed. ‘We’ll have to settle for the solitude in the room.’

  “It will be upsetting information. Prepare yourself.”

  I cycled energy from the rich dinner I’d had and turned it into zo, then circulated it through my body. I instantly felt the relaxation effects and found myself dragging my feet down the hall to my room. Il-sung was pacing when I came in.

  “Were we poisoned? Do you know what’s going on? Who did it?” he rapid-fired the questions at me.

  I didn’t have the strength to answer with anything more than, “I know as much as you.”

  I flopped face down into bed. Il-sung rambled for a bit longer, then calmed and sat on his bed. When his breathing shallowed, the sign of a light sleep, Mae spoke up in my mind.

  “I’ve been analyzing the data from the—uh—underwater smuggling base? I’m not sure what else to call it. Anyway, I’ve discovered some troubling things. Are you sure you’re ready to hear this?” she asked.

  ‘I won’t know until I hear it, I suppose.’

  “The drug import appears to be a multi-faceted operation intended to sow chaos in Busa-nan, weaken the strongest fighters, and generate a huge profit for whoever is on the other end of these drugs, which I haven’t discovered yet. There’s a thick ledger of names that appear to be test subjects and”—she stopped, her uncertainty washing through me.

  ‘Tell me,’ I thought as I rolled onto my back and looked at the ceiling.

  “Your mother’s name is on an archived list.”

  ‘What does that mean?’ I asked, my jaw tense. Part of me already knew what it meant; I just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

  She was a test subject.

  Mae gave a mental nod. “She was. Past tense. They abandoned the project and moved on. That was why her malware—while still sending data—didn’t match up correctly with the signal. I don’t know if she’ll be affected by whatever is planned for these signals since her malware doesn’t match all of the data points that the others have... but I don’t know what that means for her, or anyone else.”

  My heart thudded as I actively worked to slow it down with careful breathing. I kept my face placid and looked at the long shadows on the wood planks. After a moment, I had my body back under control.

  “That’s not all,” Mae said, and I fought to keep my breathing steady. “I found references to the name Hiro Kumiho as receiving shipments at the facility.”

  I furrowed my brow. ‘Kumiho is a nine-t
ailed fox spirit said to have been raised by Jigu to protect the land from machina, and Hiro is a Kokyu male’s given name. Could it be the man in the fox mask?’

  “Maybe.”

  ‘Anything more?’ I asked, hoping the well of bad news was empty.

  “Nothing I feel certain about yet. I’ll update you soon. I need you to start working on the device, opening more nodes. I need more power.” Mae sounded near desperation, and I nodded.

  I cycled my breathing for ma and got to work activating the tiny, self-contained nodes of power inside her secondary device. I took the main fat highway from the power supply and found a dark corner of the device to start on. She had made substantial changes since the last time I’d checked in. Many of the nodes were actively in use, so I did my best to avoid them and work in other areas.

  “Attention students,” came Min-hwan over the loudspeaker. “We do not have conclusive information regarding the allegations of tonight’s meal being unsafe. The sungchal have investigated a claim, but found no evidence. It is uncertain, but not out of the question, that we may face illness from tonight’s meal. We are preparing the dining hall as an overflow medical area for now, just in case. This will delay breakfast tomorrow morning by an hour. We will also delay classes to compensate.

  “Going forward, we will be locking the kitchen at all times. Access will be restricted to a select few. Meals will be reviewed by an instructor before consumption. This is for your safety. Thank you for your attention.”

  The speaker cut off and hollow devastation set in. They hadn’t found anything. How was that possible?

  Mae sighed. “They could’ve mobilized their stores, put them back on the shipping submarines, or stashed them elsewhere. They could’ve hidden the entrance to the base better than before or paid off the sungchal. Who knows?”

  ‘It’s up to us now. I don’t know how much time we have left, but we have to figure this out. Promise me,’ I thought as my throat constricted.

  “I promise. I don’t think Min-hwan is giving up either. He’s putting new restrictions in place, and I’m sure he’s actively analyzing the malware.”

  ‘But we know it’s been coded by you—another you. And you said that only a human with access to ancient technology and a deep understanding of it will be able to replicate that. Creating a solution will be the same, right?’

  “It’s possible a solution exists in nature. I don’t know.”

  ‘All the more reason to get you additional processing power.’ I returned to working on the device. Eventually, Il-sung roused and turned out the lights.

  I closed my eyes, weaving my way through the device’s highways. I activated nodes with rapid precision, and I cycled ma just as fast. My gold light danced with the blue of Mae’s. I flew from location to location with ease. My hands worked complex motions at each node as my body took shape in my mind’s eye.

  I woke to a sound like a deep snore and caught my breath. When had I fallen asleep?

  ‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ I asked Mae in the darkness. It must’ve been early morning.

  “You need rest. You’re exhausted.”

  The snore came again, this time more like a choking gasp. I cycled for ry and lit the room with a hovering glimmer. Cho was trembling on his bed, arms and legs flailing at random intervals. I jumped to my feet and crossed the room as dread filled the pit of my stomach.

  Cho’s face was covered in blood from a broken nose and a ripped lip. His hand flailed up to his head, and I caught it before he could strike himself.

  “What’s happening?” I kept his arm still at his side.

  Mae’s voice came through strained as she analyzed. “Seizure. His signal has changed from sending data to receiving. The malware has been activated.”

  Chapter 36

  “WHAT CAN I DO?” I YELLED. I pinned Cho’s body to keep him from falling out of bed.

  “I don’t know,” Mae said with dread. “If you send ma through him, I can assess him like I did your mother, but that will take time!”

  We didn’t have time, but we didn’t have another choice. “Will it infect me?”

  “There’s a non-zero possibility...”

  Il-sung mumbled sleepily and sat up. He waved his hands in front of his face. “Why is it so dark? What’s that noise?” he asked with increasing fear.

  “Cho is having a seizure. The tea is taking effect.” I couldn’t spare more words than that as I worked to cycle ma with what little energy I had left. I placed my hand over his heart and held his arm with the other.

  “What are we going to do? Why can’t I see?” Il-sung screamed as panic overtook his reason and he tried to climb out of bed.

  “Stay put!” I commanded, and he sat back on his bed, sobbing.

  “I don’t want to lose my sight,” he murmured, then prayed to Jigu.

  Mae took control of my munje, and it flowed through Cho’s vibrating body, returning to me burning hot. The ma prickled my palm with needling pain when it flowed back into me. I felt Mae’s intention as she tried to filter out the malware, but some were slipping through.

  “We can handle it,” she said as the flow of munje continued.

  I recycled the ma carefully and added it back to the flow. The searing heat in my veins was near intolerable when Mae cut off the stream. Cho’s seizing slowed to trembling and infrequent movements.

  “I used your ma to coat his core, similar to what your father did for your mother. He has maybe ten minutes before the malware breaks through, then a few hours of pain before he dies.” Mae’s voice was heavy with exhaustion.

  “We need to get him to Min-hwan,” I whispered as the pieces came together. “Il-sung, I’m going to guide you to Cho, and we’ll carry him to the main pagoda where you can both get help.”

  “But I can’t see,” he said with a sniffle.

  “Are you a Bastion, or will you let a little blindness keep you from saving your friend?” I demanded as I walked around to his bed. I grabbed his hand and relief came over his panicked expression.

  “Okay, I’ll try.”

  I pulled Cho up and wrapped his arms around each of our shoulders as shouts for help erupted in the hallway. I moved us through the crowd, keeping one hand gripping the back of Il-sung’s shirt and the other holding Cho’s arm.

  Shin-soo caught my gaze as he held the massive Tae-do over his shoulder. He limped toward me with the heavy boy on his back.

  “What is this?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know enough,” I said as I moved on with Cho and Il-sung.

  “Wait, please,” Shin-soo said, his voice laden with fear and desperation.

  I looked over my shoulder. “Did he have a seizure?”

  “A what?” Shin-soo asked, then followed us with laborious huffing.

  “Did his body move erratically? Is he unresponsive?”

  “Yes. I used zo to calm his nerves and he stopped,” he reported as he followed.

  “Come with us,” I said and forged my way through the front door.

  People shoved past us, running for the main pagoda as they bled from their mouths or ears, or vomited yellow-green bile. The resident village was pure chaos. We pulled ourselves along through the crowd until I saw them.

  “Hana!” I screamed. She and Yuri ran for us, horror in their wide eyes.

  “Hana, get Cho’s other arm. Yuri, Help Shin-soo.” I grunted and pulled Cho up, releasing Il-sung as I did.

  Fifth-year students pointed the way, bringing order to the insanity with booms of ry commands. “Form a line! Walk, do not run! Quiet down!”

  The crowd simmered to a panicked, orderly herd and we kept moving.

  Min-hwan threw the front doors open wide and gave new orders: “If you’re gravely ill, come directly to me in the alchemy room. If you’re ailed but not critical, go to the dining hall for treatment.”

  Cho trembled harder under my grip, and I moved us through the crowd to the other side, squeezing into the opening sideways. We picked up the pace as we m
oved down the hall toward the overflowing alchemy lab. There were students standing in the doorway, shouting for help, obscuring Min-hwan from view.

  I left Cho with Hana and elbowed my way through the crowd. “It’s attacking their core! Min-hwan! They’re dying!”

  Older students came through, dragging the able-bodied students away to the dining hall. I helped Hana move Cho into the alchemy room, and Shin-soo and Yuri followed close behind with Tae-do in tow. There were six other students laid out on the cleaned-off tables, all seizing like Cho had been.

  “I can help them,” I said to Min-hwan. “I need more energy.”

  Min-hwan turned to Sung-ki and nodded. He went to the storeroom and returned a moment later with a dark potion in a metal-bound vial. He handed it to me. I drank it back without asking and felt a rush of strength enter my body.

  I cleared my mind and cycled ma and moved from student to student. Mae coated their cores with the same ma shield she had created for Cho. I added a bit of li-ry to the mix, like I’d seen Ryni do at the Rabbit so many times before. Her spell would kick a patron’s core into action to detoxify the system and destroy the effects of the alcohol. I hoped I could do something similar.

  I weaved the two munje together in my core, focusing on my intent: create willing ma. The instruction was simple, but effective. Mae confirmed that my spell activated the subject’s core to create munje with no purpose. My ma picked it up, shaping it into the barrier like adding links to a chain.

  By the end of it, I was drained. My limbs were weak, and I slumped back against the wall.

  Sung-ki gave me another of the same potion, but with a warning, “This is a mixed sayuki basil potion, called Battle Strength. Too much can kill you. This much should be tolerable.”

  I panted, sweat gathered at my brow, and accepted the vial. I gulped it down. “Thank you.”

  The potion took effect a moment later—much slower than the first one had. When I had enough strength, I stood. “What I’ve done is coated their core in a shield of reflective ma. The other munje can’t touch it, including the malware.