The Simmering Seas

by Frank Kennedy

  He pulled on the pipe. “I’m here to offer advice, Kara. Our parents thought it best …”

  Now it made sense. The others deserting the dinner table; Dae silent throughout the meal; Dae hanging back with Kara.

  “This was their idea. They told you to take me aside tonight.”

  “Give your brother some credit, Kara. It was my idea, but they agreed to play along. At the time, I didn’t know we’d have to endure Shinsho-Na. Mother and Father don’t believe they can control you any longer. They’re worried. If you break ranks, the ramifications could be devastating, and not just for our family.”

  She appreciated the modest attempt at honesty.

  “Yes, there’d be a social scandal and a reasonable dose of embarrassment for Syung-Low. But there’s more, Dae, and I think you know what it is. Why was the marriage moved ahead six months? What happened on Ja Yuan’s yacht? One day after my marriage is accelerated, you and Father are called away to communion. I don’t believe these things are coincidence.”

  He rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to say, Kara? If I confirm their connection, I won’t tell you why. If I deny it, you’ll think I’m a liar.”

  “We all lie, Brother. We walk on a swinging bridge built of secrets. It cost Lang his life. It ruined families like the Baeks. So yes, you’re a liar. So am I. You won’t tell me all your secrets, and I damn well won’t tell you mine. But you and I never talk of anything meaningful. So, if we’re standing out here alone, you want to tell me a secret.”

  “You stretch an assumption, Sister.”

  “I’m not wrong.”

  “No.” He walked away, staring at the sky. The rings crossed at sixty degrees off the horizon. “You’re not wrong. Tell me, Kara. Do you think the rings are beautiful?”

  “Of course. But that’s the paradox, isn’t it? Beautiful and deadly.”

  “Did you know Lang and I were jealous when you made that trip to float among the rings?”

  “You didn’t hide it. Boys can never hide their jealousy.”

  “Lang dreamed of going to space. Beyond the rings, I mean. He wanted to see the Collectorate. Even after it fell, he never lost faith. And he came so close …” Dae pivoted to Kara. She saw the cold steel in his eyes, masking terror. What do you know? “Change is coming, Kara. Your path has been laid out. Abandon Nantou. Marry Ya-Li and wait your turn. You’ll know everything soon enough. This is not the time to make a mistake.”

  “Not good enough, Dae. Unless you give me some details …”

  He laid a finger across her lips. “You have no idea how close I was to Lang. No one does. Every day I ache for him. He made many mistakes, but the worst was leaving the path. I won’t go through it again with you. Kara, I hope you know I love you. I’ve never said the words, but … well, I’m too much like Father. Stay on the path.” He leaned in and whispered his final words.

  “A new Hokkaido is coming. Be alive to see it. Please.”

  He left her there. Kara called out, but Dae didn’t respond. He retired to the house. She followed but was turned away by the guard on duty outside his personal suite. He left orders not to be disturbed.

  Did they kill Lang? It couldn’t be true.

  Would they actually kill me, too? She wasn’t ready to believe it.

  25

  I T WAS A WARNING,” SHE TOLD CHI-QUA deep into the night. “But why so veiled? If he knew what I was plotting, he’d have given me a clue. I don’t know if he’s more frightened for me or for himself.”

  “Does it matter?” Chi-Qua said. “He’s afraid of something, and you could be killed for stepping out of line. Kara, I know you always resisted the idea of Lang being murdered because of what it implied, but what Dae said about his brother leaving the path … surely, that all but confirms it. He knows the truth, and he knows you’re searching for it.”

  “And close to finding it, Chi. All signs point to Mangum Island. I’m certain.”

  “I can’t disagree, but is the truth worth the price of your life?”

  Kate sat on the edge of her bed. She was exhausted.

  “It would depend, Chi. If the secret impacts every Hokki – and I suspect it does – then yes. My life is an acceptable price if the truth is uncovered for everyone.”

  “Nonsense. You have no intention of being a martyr. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gone in with heavy backup like Ham Cortez and Lan Chua. Even now, I can see it in your eyes: Still planning tomorrow’s trip to HCC, despite Dae’s warning. You’re trying to prove something to yourself, Kara.”

  “And that would be …?”

  “That you’re stronger than either of your brothers. You were number three and less than nothing for so long. Everyone dismissed the Daughter of Syung-Low. Then you manipulated your way into BRED and moved to number two after Lang died. Now you need to show you’re stronger than Dae. You won’t follow the script.”

  She took no offense. Chi-Qua made a point to psychoanalyze Kara at every opportunity.

  “I’m not stronger than my brothers, but I am smarter. Chi, you weren’t here in the first days after the Ark Carriers left. My brothers were terrified. Dae spent hours in his suite crying. The Chancellor defeat was a shock to every Hokki, but it shouldn’t have been a tragedy. What it showed was just how deeply entwined our family was with the Chancellory, engaged in who knows what crimes. But my brothers … they were lost, as if their entire future was ripped out from under them. All they ever knew how to do was play a game designed by others. They were raised in a box. Lang tried to break out. It didn’t work. Dae thinks I’ll do the same thing, but I never lived in his box. I’m smarter because I’ve always been on the outside. It’s why tomorrow must happen as planned.”

  Chi-Qua’s shoulders sagged in resignation as she sat close. Perhaps she expected Kara to slow down after tonight’s events, but they knew each other too long. Forward was the only direction Kara understood.

  “We’ll treat it like any other day, Chi. I’ll leave the office at three of noon with Geo Laan and Alli Parnish. We’ll take a corporate Scram. We’ll conduct business as professionals and return at sunset. You’ll meet me at Helios Round for the evening dine and a girls’ night out. If my parents are indignant, I’ll tell them we needed one final blast before the wedding. Our new allies will do what they must on Mangum.”

  “And if any part of this fails?”

  Kara kissed her lifelong best friend on the cheek.

  “Then I probably won’t have to worry about getting married.”

  Chi-Qua did not appreciate the dark humor. Nonetheless, she put up no fight and retreated to her quarters. Kara was determined to put in a healthy seven hours’ sleep. She needed her mind to be crisp, her senses at their most alert.

  “I’m going to have answers, Lang,” she whispered as she pulled up the covers and settled in. “I’ll find out what broke you, and I’ll make it right. Good night, Brother.”

  She lost none of her resolve the next day, reporting to work on time and conducting business as usual, with nary a hint of what lie ahead. Two hours before she departed with her engineers, Kara received a coded message from Ryllen Jee. The sub was leaving Baangarden on schedule.

  The plan was in motion. No backing out.

  She boarded the corporate Scram with Geo and Alli. They were buckled in before their Nantou pilot arrived.

  Alli, a twenty-year veteran of BRED with more than thirty years in mechanical engineering, seemed giddy. He studied the vehicle’s features with childlike wonder, which surprised Kara. It was as if he’d never ridden in one before.

  “The interior is more spacious than I expected,” he said, confirming Kara’s theory. “Scrams are compact designs, but their efficiency is remarkable.” Indeed, the wide cabin included seats for up to twenty passengers. “Whatever else one might say about Chancellors, they engineered to maximize space.”

  “But,” Geo said, “they always made sure to cut corners where indigos like us were concerned.” He pointed to the forward pilot’s conso
le. “Their own Scrams replaced traditional cockpits with holographic navigation cylinders more than a century ago. Yet they never shared CFN tech with us. They didn’t mind selling us the structural web, but they withheld the next-gen heart. The bastards didn’t want us developing system-capable Scrams.”

  “Oh, quit your whining, Geo. These are solid, suborbital vehicles with a ten-kay flight range. I suppose you’re in a hurry to rendezvous with the Fulcrum?”

  Alli smiled, as if he’d scored a victory in engineering one-upmanship. Geo was not amused. From time to time, they got into Chancellor-related tiffs. Geo, like many in the younger generations, had no use for the Chancellory. Alli, though not an apologist, made clear his appreciation for all the wonders made possible by the ex-imperialists.

  “I have no interest in space travel,” Geo said, “and even less in wormholes. Frankly, the Fulcrum could implode, and I’d be fine with it. We have a beautiful planet and enough to keep us busy for a lifetime.”

  “How is it,” Kara asked Alli, “that you’ve never flown on a Scram?”

  Alli laughed. “One, I’m cheap. And two, I never go anywhere. I’ve lived three blocks from work most of my life. If I need to roam about the island, I take a public hopper.”

  “This can’t be your first trip off island?”

  “By air. Yes.”

  Geo rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just tell her?”

  “Yes. Fine. Kara, I have a small problem,” he said, squeezing two fingers close together, “with motion sickness. Tends to keep me grounded. But today is very exciting. I’m sure I’ll hold up.”

  “Ah. Do you need a bag or …?”

  “No, no. I took some meds and kept to a light lunch.”

  This wasn’t the start she expected. The irony bemused her. One engineer hated the idea of space travel, the other couldn’t fly without getting sick, and neither realized they were possibly heading toward a facility at the heart of an intergalactic conspiracy.

  The pilot arrived with a tip of his cap and made a line to Kara. He held out a Tachtron reader, its screen twice the size of a hand-comm.

  “Honored Miss Syung, please enter your budget protocol identifier.”

  She grabbed the reader and scrolled past the electronic signature.

  “We’re outside EBC jurisdiction,” she told the pilot. “This is an exploratory trip. We will neither sell nor negotiate.”

  “It’s routine, Miss Syung. I’ll need the data for my pilot’s audit.”

  “Does Executive Board Control audit your history?”

  “No, but …”

  “I’ll sign off on your flight hours. Your audit will be clean. Yes?”

  He shaded his eyes. “Yes, Miss Syung. Of course. No EBC report.”

  Kara knew the procedure well enough. If she planted her signature and budget protocol identifier, the flight status report would file immediately with EBC. Anyone paying attention would know where she was headed.

  She returned the reader. “There you are. What’s our flight time?”

  “Fifty-two minutes. The bar is well stocked. Once we leave the city’s binding perimeter, you’re welcome to move about the cabin.”

  After they left the parking lodge, Geo leaned over to Kara.

  “Why so important to stay off EBC trackers?”

  “It’s not, Geo, but I hate bureaucracy. That might come as a surprise given my family name, but the cost analysis paperwork for an off-island flight using budget protocols is excruciating. I prefer to keep things simple.”

  “Makes sense.”

  Of course, she dared not tell him the real reason. In this case, he bought the explanation because Kara didn’t need to sell it, only tell the truth. She wasted too many hours on EBC paperwork over the years, an aspect of the job she didn’t anticipate when her dreams centered entirely around becoming a top-flight engineer.

  She used most of the trip across The Lagos as a dress rehearsal for the presentation to HCC. Geo and Alli threw open holographics from their hand-comms and did their best job wowing her, as if she was High Cannon’s lead engineer. They convinced her of the possibilities for miniaturized shimmer tech, but their prospective audience would be a much harder sell. Kara wanted Geo and Alli to return to Pinchon feeling excited about the new venture, but it wasn’t important in the grander scheme.

  She carried the most critical tech inside her handbag. Three objects the size of raindrops, given to her by Ham Cortez. Illegal Chancellory surveillance tech. Just enough to get her killed.

  26

  T HE QUEEN MAB WAS AN HOUR OUT from Baangarden, and Ryllen was running through the paces with his arsenal. He liked to test the weight of each weapon, holding them in combinations while others lay hidden in the sleeves and pockets of his fighting gear. He used to conceal a so-called “Goodboy,” a modified GB-X Mark 4 pistol, inside his jacket sleeves just north of the wrists. They’d slide into firing position with a subtle twist, he’d unload the four-inch suppressor tunnel, and do the nasty bits with as many of their combined twenty flash pegs as needed. A quick, subtle weapon, but best for close contact. Surveillance of HCC suggested the enemy might be more spread out and require tracking scopes.

  “Fortuna Grade blast rifle,” he told an audience of two, holding up the slimmed-down yet long-barreled variation on the old Mark 9 blasters used by the Chancellors’ Unification Guard. Those weapons were feared on every colony for their precision and kill rate, not to mention being fired by genetically enhanced supersoldiers guaranteed to win any battle. Ryllen demonstrated his techniques for two younger Green Sun agents recruited for this mission.

  “Biggest mistake you’ll make with this beauty? Trying too damn hard. She has a spread rate twice anything else we own. But that’s how she tricks you, see? You won’t aim. You’ll just open fire. That’s reckless. Give the enemy an extra second to think about it, those cudfruckers will take you down. Solution? Use the tracking scope. Wait for the vibe. Then serve those assholes with clean shots.”

  The eighteen-year-old fraternal twins listening to Ryllen seemed unimpressed. Either he wasn’t telling them anything new, or they understood nothing about battle. One appeared to stifle a yawn.

  “Am I boring you? I’ll be glad to stop the lesson and let you two fend for your damn selves.”

  Mei Durin interrupted to settle the matter.

  “Jai and Joa have their own talents,” she said. “I trained them for six months after you disappeared down a crack in Pinchon. They work as a team, and they specialize in collider pistols. They don’t miss, RJ. Ever.”

  “Dunno, Mei. Ever is a long time, and I don’t remember seeing these two during my service. How big is their sample size?”

  “When you were hiding in the shadows, did you hear about the attack on Soolang Pier?”

  “Sure. Everybody did. They … for all the rings, are you saying these two …?”

  Mei stood behind Jai and Joa, who remained stoic.

  “All fourteen. Yes. Clean hits. No collateral.”

  Ryllen didn’t think they looked like much. A couple of newbs, he assumed when they walked onboard. Ordinary teen Hokkis, not one damn interesting feature between them. And that, Ryllen realized, might have been their biggest weapon.

  “Nice,” he said. “I’m betting you two have a story to tell. When we get back to Pinchon, let’s have a drink. Buy a nice tall bottle of sanque and share war tales. You ever heard of Mal’s Drop? They got this third-floor room with a killer ocean view.”

  “OK,” Mei said. “Now you’re showing off.”

  “Everyone, up front!”

  Ham’s order from the cockpit changed the tone at once.

  Ryllen, Mei, and the twins joined two other Green Sun agents as Ham and Lan greeted them with a hologram sprouting from a mobile plate he brought onboard.

  “We will reach our destination in six hours,” he said. “However, we have a complication. Lan and I completed a pre-check on the utility pods. The amphibious arms are working on only two of the six
pods.”

  “Which means?” Mei asked.

  “The arms are designed to convert to short-term crawlers once the pods reach land. Our goal was to train each of you to navigate the pods onto the beach and hide them in the flora closest to shore. This would have minimized our exposure above the surface.”

  “We have an alternative?”

  “Yes. The Queen Mab is equipped with a motorized escape raft, large enough for the entire team.”

  Ryllen jumped in. “Sounds simple enough. We surface, deploy the raft, and in we go. Easy-peasy.”

  “Don’t be nonchalant, RJ. Yes, the raft is the simplest deployment, but it carries significant risks. Once the sub has surfaced, we lose our stealth advantage. To counter, we’ll have to surface farther from the island. Lan and I are still debating logistics. We might be able to blind HCC’s perimeter security if Miss Syung does her job, but we have no idea about the disposition of foot patrols, if any. Mangum is seventy kilometers from the nearest island, so they might trust in their isolation as its own security blanket.”

  “I’ve got a good feeling,” Ryllen said.

  “And we’re to rely on your good feelings?”

  “Not me. You and Lan have it covered. This will work.”

  Ham sighed. “Our biggest window of vulnerability will occur inbound on the raft. If we are marked, they can train their efforts on a single target. I had hoped to avoid this weakness by deploying the pods. Creating space over a large landing zone increases our chances of penetrating their initial lines of defense.”

  Mei’s jaw tightened. “Ham, you talk as if we’re entering a combat zone. This is a manufacturing facility. We’re gathering intel.”

  “Until someone presses a trigger button. In my experience, Mei, every mission is combat. Even intelligence gathering. Only a fool considers it any less. Underestimate no enemy.”

  “Is that what they taught you in the Unification Guard?”

  “Actually, no. When I joined, the Chancellory was still firmly in control of the colonies. Victory in every confrontation was assured because no indigo force stood a chance against us. Our casualty rate was almost zero, as it had been for centuries. Even a one percent tally in the largest battle was cause for shame. Our approach to combat was heavy-handed. No concern for stealth, no worries about emergency extraction. We wanted the enemy to see us coming. The gods descending from on high.”