“You knew.”
Li-Ann rolled her eyes. “Of course, I did. And your father, naturally. I’m always amazed how young ones believe their parents are amateurs to be duped. We learned of your plan some weeks ago. We debated our options but ultimately chose to allow you this gift.”
Kara wanted to laugh. “A gift? Mother, I earned this. I always wanted this, and I worked hard for it.”
“Yes, you did. You learned how to deceive, manipulate, and betray. What you did to Lang was unforgiveable. The way you held his secrets over our heads was despicable. You do not realize how close we came to exiling you from our household. Now that we have seen your true face, we know you cannot be trusted, so we never will again. Our love for you has not been shaken by our anger, but your word will always be subject to suspicion.”
Her stomach twisted tight, though she expected some sort of chastisement tonight.
“If you can’t trust me, why did you allow me to transfer?”
“Because we are Syung-Low, and we value our standing above all else. Kara, your betrayal of Lang had the ironic consequence of saving our family. He was on the verge of committing crimes that would have nullified all the past generations of Syung-Low. We were able to intervene, with the help of silent allies, to cleanse our connection to that hideous drug. For this, we are indebted.”
“You’re welcome. I think. Were there no sanctions for Lang?”
“His future is not your concern. Speaking of that future, I am curious about your choice of allies. Ya-Li Taron. Did you work well with him?”
“He was very helpful.”
“Indeed. And well-positioned. Yes?”
Chi-Qua entered her ear: “Oh, no.”
“What are you saying, Mother?”
“Ya-Li Taron will become your husband. The verbal agreement has been reached. Only the negotiations remain. Of course, it won’t happen soon. Both of you need stability and seasoning. We estimate four years. Perhaps a Sanhae wedding?”
Of course. Any fool should have known. It was all too easy.
“And if I refuse?” She asked.
“After you marry Ya-Li, he will take you into the Taron household. What you do from there will be little concern to your father and I.”
“I asked, what happens if I refuse?”
“You won’t. You’ll have four years to get used to the idea. He’s a nice boy. He will grow into a strong man. But, if you make a reckless decision to look elsewhere, Kara, remember this. Anyone may fall from the Gentry. It is as simple as stepping on your own toes. Once fallen, you will not be able to stand.”
Smug did not begin to define her mother’s broad sneer. Kara refused to show defeat or submissiveness. That girl disappeared along with the Chancellors and their Ark Carriers.
“I think we’ve said enough for tonight, Daughter. Enjoy the festivities. You like to dance. Yes?”
Once she was clear, Kara spoke to the shells.
“OK, Chi. So, you were right. Not free. No matter. I have four years to plot my escape.”
“Do you think he was the one behind it all?”
“Ya-Li?” She looked across the hall and saw him clustered with friends, smoking from his pipe. “No. He’s not clever enough. I doubt he even knows.”
“Then how?”
“You forget. My family works here. They have spies everywhere. Ya-Li probably said the wrong thing to the wrong person. That’s why they’re called spies. Who cares? I intend to have fun.”
“You should, Kara. No matter what your mother says, you won tonight. You won.”
“I did. We’ll be here for at least another two hours. You can find your way home?”
“Sure,” Chi-Qua said. “I’m going to grab some extra cake and catch a ride with the Yooni staff.”
“Take your time, Chi. Enjoy. I’m going to remove these shells. They’re itching. I’m glad you were with me, more or less.”
Chi-Qua was right. No amount of Li-Ann Syung was going to undercut this triumph.
She grabbed a fresh glass of wine, spied a waiter distributing pipes, and chose a blue one because too many red items clashed. She pulled hard on the first drag and held it all in her lungs, gathering the full effect of this world-class poltash. She wasn’t much of a smoker before, but this? Kara looked good with a pipe, a full glass, a diamond upon her chest, and all eyes fixated on the new queen.
Ya-Li was right. They were talking about her. Honored Gran would be proud.
This Kohlna has the sharpest teeth!
She acknowledged congratulations as she strolled the hall. The night did not need to end.
As the crowd thinned, with many moving down to the dance floor, Kara spied an unexpected figure staring back. He was leaning against a column, his eyes fixated.
Lang nodded, his fingers signaling he wanted to speak.
He had not initiated a conversation with her since the day he threatened to kill Chi-Qua. Yet Kara felt no hesitation to join him.
“Congratulations, Sister,” he said, his voice soft and conciliatory. “You’re moving up now, like a real Syung. I’m proud of you.”
The victories piled on, and Kara was speechless.
“I don’t … Lang, it’s been so long.”
“It has, and I’m the only one to blame. Kara, I’ve said things to you … not just that one time, but all my life. I want you to know two things. One, I never meant it. Especially not what I said about Chi-Qua. I’d never hurt her. Two, I always wanted you to succeed. I knew you were meant for more than Marketing, but I didn’t think you were strong enough. You are. You showed everyone. A little secret: You put Mother and Father in their place in a way Dae and me never could. We don’t have half your courage.”
Of all that Kara dreamed, this moment seemed most unlikely. She wanted to ask if he was drunk; better not to spoil the vibe.
“You have no idea how that much means, Lang. I’m sorry what I did to you. I …”
“No, you’re not, and you shouldn’t be. I almost destroyed us. This family needs a soldier. It’s the only way we survive.”
“Soldier? Lang, I think Syung-Low will do just fine for itself.”
Lang dropped his smile and scanned the room. He brought her close and sank his voice.
“There’s a war coming. Wars need soldiers.”
“A war. Wait, what?”
“I tried to look away. I thought the mahali might help. It did for a while. But then they made me look closer. I was going to be their man for the future. Can you believe that? Me. The drug dealer.”
“Lang, what are you on about?”
“I’m just very glad you’re strong, Kara. They’ll need you.”
“Who? For what?”
“It’s not going to end well. Kara, they’re going to burn it all.”
“Burn …? Lang, have you taken something? Have you …?”
He hugged her tight.
“Focus on engineering. Keep a close eye. Be a soldier.”
When he stepped back, Lang wiped away his tears and finished the last of his wine.
“Go on, Kara. Have some fun. We’ll speak again. I promise.”
He set down his glass and staggered away without looking back. Her eyes followed Lang down a long corridor until he disappeared around a bend.
Kara Syung never saw her brother again.
Two days later, his body washed up on a north coast beach one hundred meters from where Kara celebrated her sixteenth birthday. Authorities found no signs of foul play.
Bottomless grief consumed the Syung estate for weeks. The desolation in her parents’ eyes made clear: They never saw it coming, nor did they understand why. Dae, who spent his life coveting every moment at his dear brother’s side, lapsed into days of isolation. When sobbing ended and tears dried, the family searched for answers. They never said the word aloud, though everyone surely thought it. But no Syung ever committed suicide, and no Syung ever would.
For her part, Kara held tight to that final moment with Lang, even keeping it
from Chi-Qua.
He was broken. He was terrified. And in the end, he loved her enough to warn her.
Kara wrote down the conversation exactly as she remembered it and stored his words where no one might find them. Just as he asked, she kept her eyes open. She made engineering her life. She searched for answers when she did not know the questions.
Until one day, the war did in fact begin.
RYLLEN JEE
We honor the bold and daring, those who look Death in the face and do not blink. We write poems about them. We build monuments and name cities in tribute. On occasion, the revered are seen in a new light by fresh eyes, and those once praised are now pilloried and swept clean from history. Ryllen Jee fits neither of these categories, but I wonder where he would rate if he were remembered at all.
Those who know his name are split in their assessment. Some say his story was a tragedy; others suggest it was the most beautiful ending possible for a complicated man. What little I knew of Ryllen – especially regarding his involvement in the War of Nine – repulsed me. Such callous disregard for life struck me as irredeemable.
However, an historian must be willing to delve beneath the surface features of our past. Since Ryllen’s story began alongside Kara Syung’s, I felt an obligation to expand my interviews while visiting The Lagos. Additional examination of previously classified archival data from the former Unification Guard headquarters on Earth and the data stream reservoir on Aeterna complemented my interviews.
The following stories represent my interpretation of a small portion of Ryllen Jee’s entry into manhood.
- Dr. Orson Baatch, SY 5430
1
Idiot of The Lagos
Standard Year 5362
N othing rivaled Ascension, and no city on Hokkaido celebrated it like Pinchon. Nature’s most spectacular art stopped the city every seven hundred thirty-three standard days. Ascension’s unparalleled beauty filled the untainted night sky for twelve minutes. Out here in the middle of the ocean, more than two thousand kilometers from the continent, the island city enjoyed the event’s maximum impact.
Citizens prepared for months, from the wealthy northern enclaves in the Haansu District, to the fresh air markets of Lihoni Way, to the corporate clusters of the seamasters, to the blue-light districts of Zozo and Umkau. At the Port of Pinchon, ships’ captains arranged communal festivities that temporarily silenced cargo drones and Kohlna meat processors to offload thousands of rival crews who celebrated together on the mile-long isthmus called the Point of the Redeemer.
Some Hokki found religion in this event; a message sent from the Divine, they said, to remind everyone of a greater journey yet unfulfilled. For most, however, Ascension was a product of light, shadow, and chemical reactions. It was the moon, the rings, and the sun joining forces to paint a masterpiece. No more, no less.
Either way, Ascension was a gorgeous diversion from the uncertainty no one wished to discuss. Though it did not pass their lips, it never escaped their eyes. The night sky was uncluttered, free of the miles-long Ark Carriers that once orbited Hokkaido for centuries like small moons. Tonight’s Ascension would be only the second since the Carriers returned to Earth when their empire collapsed, giving Hokkaido independence it soon lamented.
None of these matters of global and cultural importance bothered Ryllen Jee, whose only immediate concern involved dodging traffic in the UpWay without drawing the attention of the FDs. He ran afoul of a Forsythe Drone once before when he was speeding; anal buggers, they were. An FD almost crashed his rifter when it tried to stall him inside a tractor beam.
He wanted to file a formal complaint with Island Transport Discipline, but his mother reminded him why ITD would ignore him.
“I don’t have a violation to my name,” he insisted.
“Your name is all they need,” his mother said. “They’ve not had enough time to forgive. One day, Ryllen, they will no longer hold the House of Jee against you.”
“Huh. How long until one day?”
Muna Lin Jee, a tiny woman who wore only black and blue, looked away, her wandering eyes telegraphing the response Ryllen did not want to hear.
“In time, the current generation of elders who determine doctrine will die off. When the next generation ascends, they will bring new doctrine. They will call upon forgiveness of past sins, and our family will be rehabilitated. This is how it’s always been, Ryllen. I have lived it. So did your father and his ancestors.”
The explanation wasn’t good enough.
“I don’t deserve this,” he said. “I’m not a Jee by blood. Why should I be punished because Father was a collaborator?”
Muna Lin knotted her fingers, the long nails piercing skin, drawing blood. She turned her back to Ryllen.
“You cannot think of one moment where your Father treated you as any less than a son,” she said, her voice haggard. “Did he ever make you feel beneath your sisters or your brother, though you were not their blood?”
“I can think of a thousand times, but you were never there. He was careful, that way.”
“Then I am sorry, Ryllen, but there’s nothing you can do. Pay the fines and stay between the narrows until time forgives. You can blame your father for your misery, but you cannot push back against those who determine doctrine.”
That’s how Ryllen celebrated his sixteenth birthday.
It was also one of the final days he spent in his mother’s suite.
Now, four months later, as the leading edge of the Kye-Do rings peered over the ocean’s western horizon and the boiling orange sun fell in the east, less than an hour from setting, Ryllen Jee battled traffic with abandon. He disregarded his mother’s warning and looked for a strategic opening in the tight, regulated lanes of the UpWay.
His rifter was a two-seater, its bubble feature and AI guidance web the product of his own modifications. He spent a month’s income on a phasic driver capable of welding the structural flaws that almost brought him down in his last encounter with an FD. He programmed an illegal exemption into the guidance web to detect FD signatures as well as an OutPass notifier in case he needed to make a quick escape onto the flat lanes of the city’s main boulevards. Tiny personal vehicles like his were allowed to intermingle at ground level with the traditional carriages and motorized rickshaws. FDs were not.
Ryllen was running late, and the UpWay was far more congested than he anticipated. Hundreds of blue Carbedyne nacelles, the power source for these vehicles, extended for kilometers in both directions. Why all the limos? The six-seat sedans? The personal Scrams? He expected the lanes to be clear as evening neared, everyone settling in for an early dine ahead of the big moment.
He studied his guidance web and tried to map the fastest route to OutPass 14, still three kilometers ahead. Frustrated by what he saw, Ryllen flipped his left wrist and glanced at the bicomm melded to his skin. He wanted to make the call; if Kai knew he’d be late, perhaps his roommate would stall for time.
Or maybe he’s tired of making excuses for me, Ryllen thought. Cud! If I miss this introduction, I’m as good as Kohlna feed.
His fear wasn’t far from the truth. Ryllen was barely employable. The family name didn’t help, but four months spent trying to work outside the safety net of his household produced a handful of disgusting, short-term gigs usually reserved for immos – the desperate illegals from the continent who tried to forge lives in the shadows of Pinchon. Everything else he owed to Kai Durin, who gave him a soft bed and two meals rent-free and asked for nothing beyond a brief, warm kiss each morning.
Kai was generous. Kai was suave. But Kai had an agenda, like anyone with a working brain. Ryllen knew Kai’s endgame. He sensed it every time Kai made him dinner. He heard the implication each time his eighteen-year-old roommate mentioned “special opportunities” or “the way without judgment.” Only a week ago, when Ryllen put the pieces together, did Kai almost reveal his hand.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” Ryllen said over breakfast of Kohlna cakes and
spiced cabbage. “You were on the bicomm. I heard you mention Lan Chua.”
Kai folded his fish cake into the stringy cabbage, his permanently embedded half-smile giving away nothing.
“Everyone knows Lan Chua. Powerful man.”
Ryllen knew all too well. “Father warned me about him once, during the reprisals. Father died a few days after.”
“Are you suggesting …?”
“No, but they were rivals at Nantou. I don’t think they got along, even before independence. But I hear things about Lan Chua.”
“Such as?”
“That maybe he’s more than Executive Chairman of Discipline at Nantou. Kai, what do you know about the Green Sun?”
Kai chewed with a slow, purposeful rhythm, his artful smile undeterred. He wiped his lips with a napkin and returned it to his lap.
“Now there’s a mighty question, RJ. You first. Where did you hear this colorful name?”
“My last job. Sewer maintenance with a crew of immos. Said they had a friend hunted by the Green Sun. They’re more afraid of it than the immigration consort. They couldn’t believe I was in the dark. They said Green Sun was run by executives for the seamasters. It would make sense for an ECD like Lan Chua. No one would challenge him.”
“Interesting conjecture.” Kai pointed to Ryllen’s plate. “Are you going to eat your last cake?”
“I’m good. I’ll fill up on breadfruit. So?”
Kai stabbed at the cake with a fork and mumbled between bites.
“What do you think Green Sun does, RJ?”
“I hear different stories. Trackers. Collectors. Enforcers. Assassins.”
“Hmm. Sounds brutish. I heard they’re defending The Lagos. Still, I would think there’s opportunity, given the right connections.”
“Opportunity for someone like me, you think?”
Kai washed down his cake with infused mango juice.
“I’d have no idea, RJ. But I’m good at asking questions. Maybe I know someone who knows Lan Chua.”
The Impossible Future: Complete set Page 158
