Moonstorm, page 21
Walking voluntarily into a clanner’s armored car struck Hwa Young as either a terrifically bad idea or some form of treason, but she’d given her word. And never mind the question of whether she needed to keep a promise to a clanner, a point of ethics that her classes had neglected to cover. Hwa Young was starting to think boarding schools didn’t teach you anything useful about life. “Fine.”
Mother Aera ushered her to the shotgun seat, which was either very trusting or very calculated. Hwa Young buckled herself in without comment. Experimentally, she reached out for the reassuring presence of her lancer in her mind. Either it still wasn’t talking to her or it was too far away. She schooled her face to stillness to hide her dismay.
The vehicle’s dashboard didn’t light up or present Mother Aera with an adaptively personalized interface in the manner of Imperial technology. The controls you got were the controls you got, a factoid about clanner tech Hwa Young had forgotten in her six years away.
Now that the shock of the encounter was ebbing, Hwa Young assessed her surroundings. Mother Aera carried at least two guns and probably more knives. She was the one who’d taught Hwa Young the essentials of firearms and knife fighting, back when.
It didn’t escape Hwa Young’s notice that the armored car only activated in response to Mother Aera’s handprint and a passcode. Mother Aera matter-of-factly covered up her hand as she entered the latter. Geum would have hacked the system; on the other hand, Hwa Young was glad her friend wasn’t trapped here with her. Mother Aera had no reason to treat Geum as anything but another Imperial.
“Where are we going?” Hwa Young asked.
“Not far. I don’t want to be this close to the road in case your friends show up.”
That was what she’d feared, but better to have some freedom of action by keeping her calm in the passenger seat, as opposed to being trussed up like a gimbap seaweed roll and tossed into the trunk.
“Let me guess,” Mother Aera remarked as she drove into the hills, through the drifts of dust and petals—a picturesque scene under other circumstances. “You think I’m going to cut your throat anyway and leave your body as bait for the winged tigers.”
“It had occurred to me, yes.”
“I’m not angry you chose to live among the Imperials.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
This time Mother Aera caught herself before the sigh gusted out. “Only a little farther.” She didn’t specify beyond that, but Hwa Young saw what she meant once she parked the car beneath an outcropping that shielded it from aerial surveillance.
“You’re not going to get much ransom for me.” Hwa Young didn’t know if this was true, but she doubted Admiral Chin would go to extreme measures to win back a green pilot.
She hated the fact that she didn’t know how badly she wanted to be rescued, no matter how much Mother Aera’s survival discomfited her. Another lesson from her traitor heart.
“How do you feel about slideshows, Hwajin?”
Hwa Young suppressed a groan. “You kidnapped me for a slideshow?”
Mother Aera inserted a data crystal into the dashboard. It whirred and clicked obstinately until she banged on it with the heel of her hand. “Sorry, the pollen gets into everything.”
Hwa Young grimaced in understanding. Fortunately, she didn’t have allergies, unlike some of the marines.
The presentation started up with a flicker of static, then a holographic map of the Empire. The latter looked laughably small, presented thus: a confetti-pancake of stars and systems and space stations connected by shipping routes and relay towers, all protected by the Imperial fleets. Hwa Young could have crushed it in her hands if the hologram had possessed any substance.
“You have wonderful intelligence,” Hwa Young said dryly, although she didn’t know how accurate the map was, just to make Mother Aera twitch. Still, the level of detail, especially regarding the core worlds, dismayed her. It could be faked, she told herself uneasily. “I’m proud of your spies.”
“There’s no need to be snide, Hwajin. I haven’t shown you the really classified stuff.”
Hwa Young didn’t respond to the gibe, nor the fact that Mother Aera was using her old clanner name an awful lot. If Mother Aera had come for her five years ago, six years ago, Hwa Young would have wept to hear herself called Hwajin. Begged for a mother’s embrace. Instead, she shook with fury: how dare Mother Aera show up now, years after she’d given herself to the Empress’s service? The years stood between them as surely as palisades.
“They’ll send search parties once they realize I’m missing,” Hwa Young said. She hoped this wasn’t a bluff. “You should make the most of your time.”
Mother Aera’s eyes narrowed, but she turned back to the hologram. “This, as you know, is the Empire of New Joseon,” she said. She made a gesture, and a full third of the Empire glowed red. “These sectors are on the brink of rebelling or joining the Moonstorm.”
She gestured again. The crownworld shone like a white-green star; the core worlds surrounding it glowed golden. “The Empress’s hold over the core worlds, on the other hand, is complete. One could even say tyrannical. And she’s looking to extend that tyrant’s hold not just over the periphery worlds but beyond.”
Hwa Young bristled at this description of the Empress’s rule. The Empress protected her children. That was the point of the Empire. And besides, Hwa Young couldn’t believe the peripheral worlds were on the brink of rebellion; that had to be a clanner lie.
“We have intel that the Empress has been testing a new weapon,” Mother Aera said soberly. “One capable of destroying whole worlds. We have reason to believe that it’s already been tested on some uninhabited planetoids. Former planetoids, I should say.”
Hwa Young couldn’t tell whether the queasy knot of unease in her stomach came from having her past shoved into her face in the form of her heart-mother, or if it was due to this outlandish claim. “If you expect me to betray the Empire for a rumor—”
Mother Aera grabbed her hands. Shocked by the contact, Hwa Young let her. She remembered the strength of those fingers, identical to her own, which had corrected her grip on a rifle so many years ago.
“It’s more than a rumor.” Mother Aera’s voice hardened. “You think the Empress is only going to use her new weapon on the clanners? She won’t hesitate to turn it on any of her own worlds that challenge her rule.”
“No one would rebel.” Hwa Young hated how sullen her voice sounded. As she spoke, an idea kindled in her brain. Even though Mother Aera had gone to the trouble of concealing the armored car, projection units like this hologram were no good for camouflage, according to Geum, because the flicker always gave away your position. But if you wanted to give away your position to signal for help…
“Can I see the map?” Hwa Young asked. Without waiting for a response, she touched the hologram, zooming in on the peripheral worlds.
“Surely you don’t believe what the Imperial news services tell you,” Mother Aera went on, ignoring Hwa Young’s interruption. “The propaganda? Her forces put down riots on the worlds of Jasper and Olivine. They wiped out an entire city on the latter. There’s nothing left but mice and their shadows.”
Hwa Young pretended to listen while feigning clumsiness in zooming in and out, using the holo to send a signal: four long pulses, two short, four long again. HELP, in the Imperial military code. She hoped Mother Aera hadn’t caught her at it, but if so, Mother Aera was playing it cool.
As she tapped out code, though, Mother Aera’s words seeped in. How could the Empress be vicious or tyrannical when her rule had provided Hwa Young a new home, a friend, comrades? When her prayers to the Empress throughout the six months at the orphanage and the six long years at the boarding school had given her the wish of her dreams, a bond with a lancer?
Still, a worm of doubt gnawed inside Hwa Young’s chest. What if there was an element of truth to Mother Aera’s accusations?
That was something she could deal with later. For now, she had to stall for time, keep Mother Aera talking, until rescue came. If it did.
“I don’t know,” she said, wishing that her hesitation were wholly feigned. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Mother Aera’s eyes softened. “It must be hard for you. But you belong with your people, not the Imperials. You can come with me. Grow your hair out again like a proper clanner woman.”
Hwa Young stilled.
She could go back with Mother Aera, find out what had become of the other settlers on Carnelian. Carry the perfume of starblooms with her now and forever, instead of being haunted by the Moonstorm’s transfigurations and changeable vistas in her dreams. She’d never again have to worry about being second best because Bae outperformed her.
She could, and it would mean leaving behind Eun, who had trained her despite all his grousing. Geum, who had welcomed her from the beginning. Amiable Seong Su. Even Bae.
It would mean leaving behind her lancer, Winter’s Axiom, and never hearing that arctic voice joined to hers again.
Hwa Young was searching for something more to say, something to distract Mother Aera with, only to be interrupted by a deep rumble.
The steps of a lancer making landfall.
Mother Aera blanched. “Shit, they’ve tracked us!”
That was Hwa Young’s cue. She yanked the data crystal out of its slot, kicked open the door, and dived out, rolling beneath the cover of the outcropping. The crystal might include useful intel; there might be other stray files on it. She wished she’d been able to grab one of Mother Aera’s handguns on the way out, but she’d escaped with the crystal and that was what mattered.
The amber flicker of the shield told her that the lancer belonged to Eun. Running through the hills would be a great way to open herself up to friendly fire. The smart thing to do was to stay put and call for help using her badge. He should be within range.
The clanner car screamed out of hiding and darted into a nearby ravine, which would be perilous for something the size of a lancer to navigate. Hwa Young crouched low and watched it escape.
Hwa Young tapped her badge. “Hellion, this is Winter. Requesting pickup.”
Eun’s exasperated voice responded, “There you are. Stay put. We’re going to have words about your adventures, you and I.”
I bet, Hwa Young thought grimly.
21
Hwa Young sat in a “waiting room” (in actuality, it was a drafty tent) while Commander Ye Jun had yet another meeting with the brass, alternately fuming and wondering if she should have taken up Mother Aera on her offer of a relaxing vacation retreat with the clanners. She was more than tempted to slip out and get herself a proper dinner. The single, awful ration bar the commander had provided her was long gone; too bad she couldn’t say the same about the aftertaste.
“Any intel has to go straight to the top,” Commander Ye Jun had said after receiving her carefully edited report of the ambush. Zie made her repeat everything from the beginning, although zie was at least kind enough to offer her a glass of water. And then zie stuck her in this waiting room in case the authorities wanted to question her directly, although that hadn’t happened yet.
Hwa Young had mostly told the commander the truth, omitting only the awkward relationship between herself and Mother Aera, and the fact that she knew Mother Aera’s name. Commander Ye Jun hadn’t pressed too hard as to why “the clanner” hadn’t killed her outright, especially when Hwa Young offered the dubious alternative explanation that maybe “the clanner” wanted a captive for torture or questioning.
It’s not an important detail, she told herself fretfully. She was loyal to the Empire. She’d escaped with the data crystal and handed it over to her commanding officer. Nobody needed to know the inconvenient truth about her heritage.
Still, part of her wondered…and worried.
Eventually Hwa Young dozed. The backwash of adrenaline had left her exhausted, wrung out like a rag. She didn’t dream, or if she did, she remembered nothing but an amorphous dread, a hanging darkness whose consequences she glimpsed but dimly.
Hwa Young woke some time later to the smell of…chocolate? She blinked and saw Seong Su looming over her, a chocolate bar in hand. Next to him were Bae, her expression aloof, and Eun with his hands jammed in his pockets.
“Nice to see you awake, Menace Girl,” Eun said, glowering at her. “Do you plan on getting kidnapped by clanners on a regular basis?”
Despite the heat that rose to her face, she was gratified by the note of concern in his voice.
“She doesn’t look all that banged up.” That was Bae, talking about her as though she weren’t right there.
Nevertheless, Hwa Young looked sidelong at the other girl, alerted by the undercurrents in her voice. For once Bae didn’t look like she’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. Dark smudges shadowed her eyes. Had she been worried? Bae had already lost Ha Yoon, Hwa Young recalled guiltily.
On the other hand, Ha Yoon had been Bae’s friend. Not someone she held in scorn. It wasn’t the same.
“That must’ve been a real scare,” Seong Su said, interrupting Hwa Young’s musings. He held out a half-eaten chocolate bar. “Um. This was supposed to be for you, but I forgot and chowed down on it because I was hungry. Sorry.”
Hwa Young couldn’t help laughing. “It’s fine.” She took a bite, mostly to show him she was grateful.
“So what was it like, seeing a clanner face to face?” Bae asked.
The distance between them slammed down on Hwa Young’s conscience like a leaden weight. While they were all lancer pilots, the secret of her clanner heritage would always separate her from them. Hwa Young struggled to keep her voice calm as she gave an edited account of the way Mother Aera had ambushed her.
“Look at you,” Bae said after Hwa Young had finished. “You’re barely able to sit upright.” There was the faintest hint of worry in her tone.
“You do look like hell,” Eun agreed, eyeing her critically. “C’mon, folks, let’s clear out so she can get some more rest.”
After they were gone, Hwa Young napped again; woke later at the sound of a throat being cleared. Lashed out.
Commander Ye Jun was standing over her at a discreet distance, zir expression quizzical.
Hwa Young flushed and lowered her arm, then rose and performed a belated salute.
“At ease. The data crystal’s been passed to Cryptology to see if they can decipher what’s on it,” Commander Ye Jun said. “You’re free to resume your normal duty roster. Which I realize no one has told you yet.”
The commander ran her through her new schedule, which mostly involved instructions to recuperate. “When Medical clears you for duty—really clears you, not you sneaking out when their backs are turned—you can join us on patrol. For now, go to sick bay.”
Hwa Young grimaced. “Understood, sir.”
The commander departed, and she watched zir go, forlorn. She knew zie wasn’t excluding her from the rest of the platoon, but she still felt the other pilots’ absences as though the chambers of her heart had been hollowed out.
Maybe Geum will have time for me, she thought, and set out to find zir instead. She could always go to sick bay afterward.
Hwa Young finally found Geum playing Elite Operative Strike Force 7 with a small circle of five off-duty marines in the lee of a temporary shack, all of them yelling and laughing and pounding one another on the back whenever someone failed at stealth. She tried to envision having enough time back on the flagship for video games. She’d played some with Geum back on Serpentine; she had a narrow talent for first-person shooters.
“Hwa Young!” Geum said, face brightening gratifyingly once zie noticed her. “Uh, you wanna play? Someone’s got to have a spare console…”
“No, I was going to ask you about something else.” She was dying to know about the data crystal, and Geum would be discreet.
“Is it urgent? I just made it to second place”—one of the marines called back a friendly taunt—“and I want to see if I can show these meatheads some real gameplay.”
A different marine squinted at Hwa Young. “Wait a sec. Is it true you ran into clanners outside of base?”
Clearly scuttlebutt had run ahead of her, but she didn’t know how much she should reveal to people outside her unit. Still, a clenching in her heart eased when she realized that it wasn’t that Geum didn’t care. Zie simply might not have heard the rumor.
Geum sat bolt upright and studied Hwa Young, frowning. “Whoa, I didn’t know that. You okay?”
Hwa Young hesitated. “Yeah. It’s fine. I’m headed to sick bay—Commander Ye Jun’s orders.” She liked seeing Geum carefree and happy, even if the happiness didn’t include her. “Come get me when you have a free moment tomorrow, then.”
“Will do.” And Geum returned to the circle of gamers.
* * *
Hwa Young lingered over her breakfast tray in sick bay, wondering if Geum had forgotten zir promise to find her or, more likely, was hard at work. Zie might even be fixing up my lancer, she thought optimistically, fiddling with the data slate she had liberated from the medic.
I’m not that injured, Hwa Young thought grumpily. Were the fleet’s medics inclined to be overcautious? She’d secured a modest supply of painkillers from the medical tent for her headaches; that was all. Sitting around uselessly in a tent for the sick and wounded galled her, especially when she was dying to know what else was on that data crystal she’d filched from Mother Aera. If its contents were encrypted, there had to be a reason. When she messaged Commander Ye Jun, zie said that so far Cryptology hadn’t cracked the encryption. Maybe Geum would have better luck.
She had made up her mind to slip out and stroll around the perimeter of the camp—the exercise, and the fragrant air, would do her good—when Geum burst into the tent. “There you are!” zie said.
Mother Aera ushered her to the shotgun seat, which was either very trusting or very calculated. Hwa Young buckled herself in without comment. Experimentally, she reached out for the reassuring presence of her lancer in her mind. Either it still wasn’t talking to her or it was too far away. She schooled her face to stillness to hide her dismay.
The vehicle’s dashboard didn’t light up or present Mother Aera with an adaptively personalized interface in the manner of Imperial technology. The controls you got were the controls you got, a factoid about clanner tech Hwa Young had forgotten in her six years away.
Now that the shock of the encounter was ebbing, Hwa Young assessed her surroundings. Mother Aera carried at least two guns and probably more knives. She was the one who’d taught Hwa Young the essentials of firearms and knife fighting, back when.
It didn’t escape Hwa Young’s notice that the armored car only activated in response to Mother Aera’s handprint and a passcode. Mother Aera matter-of-factly covered up her hand as she entered the latter. Geum would have hacked the system; on the other hand, Hwa Young was glad her friend wasn’t trapped here with her. Mother Aera had no reason to treat Geum as anything but another Imperial.
“Where are we going?” Hwa Young asked.
“Not far. I don’t want to be this close to the road in case your friends show up.”
That was what she’d feared, but better to have some freedom of action by keeping her calm in the passenger seat, as opposed to being trussed up like a gimbap seaweed roll and tossed into the trunk.
“Let me guess,” Mother Aera remarked as she drove into the hills, through the drifts of dust and petals—a picturesque scene under other circumstances. “You think I’m going to cut your throat anyway and leave your body as bait for the winged tigers.”
“It had occurred to me, yes.”
“I’m not angry you chose to live among the Imperials.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
This time Mother Aera caught herself before the sigh gusted out. “Only a little farther.” She didn’t specify beyond that, but Hwa Young saw what she meant once she parked the car beneath an outcropping that shielded it from aerial surveillance.
“You’re not going to get much ransom for me.” Hwa Young didn’t know if this was true, but she doubted Admiral Chin would go to extreme measures to win back a green pilot.
She hated the fact that she didn’t know how badly she wanted to be rescued, no matter how much Mother Aera’s survival discomfited her. Another lesson from her traitor heart.
“How do you feel about slideshows, Hwajin?”
Hwa Young suppressed a groan. “You kidnapped me for a slideshow?”
Mother Aera inserted a data crystal into the dashboard. It whirred and clicked obstinately until she banged on it with the heel of her hand. “Sorry, the pollen gets into everything.”
Hwa Young grimaced in understanding. Fortunately, she didn’t have allergies, unlike some of the marines.
The presentation started up with a flicker of static, then a holographic map of the Empire. The latter looked laughably small, presented thus: a confetti-pancake of stars and systems and space stations connected by shipping routes and relay towers, all protected by the Imperial fleets. Hwa Young could have crushed it in her hands if the hologram had possessed any substance.
“You have wonderful intelligence,” Hwa Young said dryly, although she didn’t know how accurate the map was, just to make Mother Aera twitch. Still, the level of detail, especially regarding the core worlds, dismayed her. It could be faked, she told herself uneasily. “I’m proud of your spies.”
“There’s no need to be snide, Hwajin. I haven’t shown you the really classified stuff.”
Hwa Young didn’t respond to the gibe, nor the fact that Mother Aera was using her old clanner name an awful lot. If Mother Aera had come for her five years ago, six years ago, Hwa Young would have wept to hear herself called Hwajin. Begged for a mother’s embrace. Instead, she shook with fury: how dare Mother Aera show up now, years after she’d given herself to the Empress’s service? The years stood between them as surely as palisades.
“They’ll send search parties once they realize I’m missing,” Hwa Young said. She hoped this wasn’t a bluff. “You should make the most of your time.”
Mother Aera’s eyes narrowed, but she turned back to the hologram. “This, as you know, is the Empire of New Joseon,” she said. She made a gesture, and a full third of the Empire glowed red. “These sectors are on the brink of rebelling or joining the Moonstorm.”
She gestured again. The crownworld shone like a white-green star; the core worlds surrounding it glowed golden. “The Empress’s hold over the core worlds, on the other hand, is complete. One could even say tyrannical. And she’s looking to extend that tyrant’s hold not just over the periphery worlds but beyond.”
Hwa Young bristled at this description of the Empress’s rule. The Empress protected her children. That was the point of the Empire. And besides, Hwa Young couldn’t believe the peripheral worlds were on the brink of rebellion; that had to be a clanner lie.
“We have intel that the Empress has been testing a new weapon,” Mother Aera said soberly. “One capable of destroying whole worlds. We have reason to believe that it’s already been tested on some uninhabited planetoids. Former planetoids, I should say.”
Hwa Young couldn’t tell whether the queasy knot of unease in her stomach came from having her past shoved into her face in the form of her heart-mother, or if it was due to this outlandish claim. “If you expect me to betray the Empire for a rumor—”
Mother Aera grabbed her hands. Shocked by the contact, Hwa Young let her. She remembered the strength of those fingers, identical to her own, which had corrected her grip on a rifle so many years ago.
“It’s more than a rumor.” Mother Aera’s voice hardened. “You think the Empress is only going to use her new weapon on the clanners? She won’t hesitate to turn it on any of her own worlds that challenge her rule.”
“No one would rebel.” Hwa Young hated how sullen her voice sounded. As she spoke, an idea kindled in her brain. Even though Mother Aera had gone to the trouble of concealing the armored car, projection units like this hologram were no good for camouflage, according to Geum, because the flicker always gave away your position. But if you wanted to give away your position to signal for help…
“Can I see the map?” Hwa Young asked. Without waiting for a response, she touched the hologram, zooming in on the peripheral worlds.
“Surely you don’t believe what the Imperial news services tell you,” Mother Aera went on, ignoring Hwa Young’s interruption. “The propaganda? Her forces put down riots on the worlds of Jasper and Olivine. They wiped out an entire city on the latter. There’s nothing left but mice and their shadows.”
Hwa Young pretended to listen while feigning clumsiness in zooming in and out, using the holo to send a signal: four long pulses, two short, four long again. HELP, in the Imperial military code. She hoped Mother Aera hadn’t caught her at it, but if so, Mother Aera was playing it cool.
As she tapped out code, though, Mother Aera’s words seeped in. How could the Empress be vicious or tyrannical when her rule had provided Hwa Young a new home, a friend, comrades? When her prayers to the Empress throughout the six months at the orphanage and the six long years at the boarding school had given her the wish of her dreams, a bond with a lancer?
Still, a worm of doubt gnawed inside Hwa Young’s chest. What if there was an element of truth to Mother Aera’s accusations?
That was something she could deal with later. For now, she had to stall for time, keep Mother Aera talking, until rescue came. If it did.
“I don’t know,” she said, wishing that her hesitation were wholly feigned. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Mother Aera’s eyes softened. “It must be hard for you. But you belong with your people, not the Imperials. You can come with me. Grow your hair out again like a proper clanner woman.”
Hwa Young stilled.
She could go back with Mother Aera, find out what had become of the other settlers on Carnelian. Carry the perfume of starblooms with her now and forever, instead of being haunted by the Moonstorm’s transfigurations and changeable vistas in her dreams. She’d never again have to worry about being second best because Bae outperformed her.
She could, and it would mean leaving behind Eun, who had trained her despite all his grousing. Geum, who had welcomed her from the beginning. Amiable Seong Su. Even Bae.
It would mean leaving behind her lancer, Winter’s Axiom, and never hearing that arctic voice joined to hers again.
Hwa Young was searching for something more to say, something to distract Mother Aera with, only to be interrupted by a deep rumble.
The steps of a lancer making landfall.
Mother Aera blanched. “Shit, they’ve tracked us!”
That was Hwa Young’s cue. She yanked the data crystal out of its slot, kicked open the door, and dived out, rolling beneath the cover of the outcropping. The crystal might include useful intel; there might be other stray files on it. She wished she’d been able to grab one of Mother Aera’s handguns on the way out, but she’d escaped with the crystal and that was what mattered.
The amber flicker of the shield told her that the lancer belonged to Eun. Running through the hills would be a great way to open herself up to friendly fire. The smart thing to do was to stay put and call for help using her badge. He should be within range.
The clanner car screamed out of hiding and darted into a nearby ravine, which would be perilous for something the size of a lancer to navigate. Hwa Young crouched low and watched it escape.
Hwa Young tapped her badge. “Hellion, this is Winter. Requesting pickup.”
Eun’s exasperated voice responded, “There you are. Stay put. We’re going to have words about your adventures, you and I.”
I bet, Hwa Young thought grimly.
21
Hwa Young sat in a “waiting room” (in actuality, it was a drafty tent) while Commander Ye Jun had yet another meeting with the brass, alternately fuming and wondering if she should have taken up Mother Aera on her offer of a relaxing vacation retreat with the clanners. She was more than tempted to slip out and get herself a proper dinner. The single, awful ration bar the commander had provided her was long gone; too bad she couldn’t say the same about the aftertaste.
“Any intel has to go straight to the top,” Commander Ye Jun had said after receiving her carefully edited report of the ambush. Zie made her repeat everything from the beginning, although zie was at least kind enough to offer her a glass of water. And then zie stuck her in this waiting room in case the authorities wanted to question her directly, although that hadn’t happened yet.
Hwa Young had mostly told the commander the truth, omitting only the awkward relationship between herself and Mother Aera, and the fact that she knew Mother Aera’s name. Commander Ye Jun hadn’t pressed too hard as to why “the clanner” hadn’t killed her outright, especially when Hwa Young offered the dubious alternative explanation that maybe “the clanner” wanted a captive for torture or questioning.
It’s not an important detail, she told herself fretfully. She was loyal to the Empire. She’d escaped with the data crystal and handed it over to her commanding officer. Nobody needed to know the inconvenient truth about her heritage.
Still, part of her wondered…and worried.
Eventually Hwa Young dozed. The backwash of adrenaline had left her exhausted, wrung out like a rag. She didn’t dream, or if she did, she remembered nothing but an amorphous dread, a hanging darkness whose consequences she glimpsed but dimly.
Hwa Young woke some time later to the smell of…chocolate? She blinked and saw Seong Su looming over her, a chocolate bar in hand. Next to him were Bae, her expression aloof, and Eun with his hands jammed in his pockets.
“Nice to see you awake, Menace Girl,” Eun said, glowering at her. “Do you plan on getting kidnapped by clanners on a regular basis?”
Despite the heat that rose to her face, she was gratified by the note of concern in his voice.
“She doesn’t look all that banged up.” That was Bae, talking about her as though she weren’t right there.
Nevertheless, Hwa Young looked sidelong at the other girl, alerted by the undercurrents in her voice. For once Bae didn’t look like she’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. Dark smudges shadowed her eyes. Had she been worried? Bae had already lost Ha Yoon, Hwa Young recalled guiltily.
On the other hand, Ha Yoon had been Bae’s friend. Not someone she held in scorn. It wasn’t the same.
“That must’ve been a real scare,” Seong Su said, interrupting Hwa Young’s musings. He held out a half-eaten chocolate bar. “Um. This was supposed to be for you, but I forgot and chowed down on it because I was hungry. Sorry.”
Hwa Young couldn’t help laughing. “It’s fine.” She took a bite, mostly to show him she was grateful.
“So what was it like, seeing a clanner face to face?” Bae asked.
The distance between them slammed down on Hwa Young’s conscience like a leaden weight. While they were all lancer pilots, the secret of her clanner heritage would always separate her from them. Hwa Young struggled to keep her voice calm as she gave an edited account of the way Mother Aera had ambushed her.
“Look at you,” Bae said after Hwa Young had finished. “You’re barely able to sit upright.” There was the faintest hint of worry in her tone.
“You do look like hell,” Eun agreed, eyeing her critically. “C’mon, folks, let’s clear out so she can get some more rest.”
After they were gone, Hwa Young napped again; woke later at the sound of a throat being cleared. Lashed out.
Commander Ye Jun was standing over her at a discreet distance, zir expression quizzical.
Hwa Young flushed and lowered her arm, then rose and performed a belated salute.
“At ease. The data crystal’s been passed to Cryptology to see if they can decipher what’s on it,” Commander Ye Jun said. “You’re free to resume your normal duty roster. Which I realize no one has told you yet.”
The commander ran her through her new schedule, which mostly involved instructions to recuperate. “When Medical clears you for duty—really clears you, not you sneaking out when their backs are turned—you can join us on patrol. For now, go to sick bay.”
Hwa Young grimaced. “Understood, sir.”
The commander departed, and she watched zir go, forlorn. She knew zie wasn’t excluding her from the rest of the platoon, but she still felt the other pilots’ absences as though the chambers of her heart had been hollowed out.
Maybe Geum will have time for me, she thought, and set out to find zir instead. She could always go to sick bay afterward.
Hwa Young finally found Geum playing Elite Operative Strike Force 7 with a small circle of five off-duty marines in the lee of a temporary shack, all of them yelling and laughing and pounding one another on the back whenever someone failed at stealth. She tried to envision having enough time back on the flagship for video games. She’d played some with Geum back on Serpentine; she had a narrow talent for first-person shooters.
“Hwa Young!” Geum said, face brightening gratifyingly once zie noticed her. “Uh, you wanna play? Someone’s got to have a spare console…”
“No, I was going to ask you about something else.” She was dying to know about the data crystal, and Geum would be discreet.
“Is it urgent? I just made it to second place”—one of the marines called back a friendly taunt—“and I want to see if I can show these meatheads some real gameplay.”
A different marine squinted at Hwa Young. “Wait a sec. Is it true you ran into clanners outside of base?”
Clearly scuttlebutt had run ahead of her, but she didn’t know how much she should reveal to people outside her unit. Still, a clenching in her heart eased when she realized that it wasn’t that Geum didn’t care. Zie simply might not have heard the rumor.
Geum sat bolt upright and studied Hwa Young, frowning. “Whoa, I didn’t know that. You okay?”
Hwa Young hesitated. “Yeah. It’s fine. I’m headed to sick bay—Commander Ye Jun’s orders.” She liked seeing Geum carefree and happy, even if the happiness didn’t include her. “Come get me when you have a free moment tomorrow, then.”
“Will do.” And Geum returned to the circle of gamers.
* * *
Hwa Young lingered over her breakfast tray in sick bay, wondering if Geum had forgotten zir promise to find her or, more likely, was hard at work. Zie might even be fixing up my lancer, she thought optimistically, fiddling with the data slate she had liberated from the medic.
I’m not that injured, Hwa Young thought grumpily. Were the fleet’s medics inclined to be overcautious? She’d secured a modest supply of painkillers from the medical tent for her headaches; that was all. Sitting around uselessly in a tent for the sick and wounded galled her, especially when she was dying to know what else was on that data crystal she’d filched from Mother Aera. If its contents were encrypted, there had to be a reason. When she messaged Commander Ye Jun, zie said that so far Cryptology hadn’t cracked the encryption. Maybe Geum would have better luck.
She had made up her mind to slip out and stroll around the perimeter of the camp—the exercise, and the fragrant air, would do her good—when Geum burst into the tent. “There you are!” zie said.
