18 - A Momentary Blossom

Ran Eun Kyung stared out of the window of the military bus taking her to Kumgang National Park. Her husband, Chang-su sat beside her. Neither said anything. Many years had trained Chang-su, and he knew better than to interrupt her when she was thinking. 

Ran was remembering when the phone on her desk had rung four days earlier, and ruined everything. She had been in a meeting with her military counterpart, Senior Colonel Kim Myung-dae. They had been going over final plans for the bomb’s detonation. Everything was in place, they just needed the go-ahead from the Supreme Leader. However, there were always things to do. In North Korea, you learned to find things to do. Idle hands were put to work doing things that the owner of said hands would not enjoy. That the phone had rung was unusual. The single line into the laboratory complex was heavily monitored, and reserved for critical government calls. She had looked at Kim. He had arched an eyebrow which, for him, was the equivalent of her dropping a cup of coffee mid-sip. 

“Are you going to answer it?” Kim had asked.

“Yes,” she had replied, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. One learned early in life that to be successful one needed to modulate one’s emotional responses to a thin band either side of neutral. She had picked up the phone and emitted a suitably contrite, “Hello?” There was no guarantee who was calling, so one should be prepared. Two minutes later she had passed the phone to Kim. “He wants to talk to you next,” she had said.

“Who is calling?” Kim had asked as she had passed him the handset.

She had shaken her head, assuming that Kim was about to be told what she had been told, although probably in more militaristic terms. No naming from her would make any difference. Four years of planning, preparation, isolation, and work, all for nothing. Their much-vaunted security, proven to be a shambles; Kim was going to take that hard. For her, as a nuclear physicist, the science at least could not be faulted. They had simply taken the ‘old bomb’ (as it was called) from its hiding place, tuned it up, and prepared it for its final task. What had taken the time was construction of the tunnel to PyeongChang. That, and the myriad layers of deception spun to deceive their enemies. 

To be fair, she had not been that upset at the revelations the caller had made. The science had been excellent fun, however the idea of actually detonating the bomb and killing large numbers of people was not appealing. Of course orders were orders. To refuse would have been unthinkable, not only for her, but for her family and her relatives in the Workers’ Party. She was smart, of course, but one did not get to be a senior member of the Party’s secret Commission on Nuclear Matters by not being well connected. Luck had a lot to do with politics in North Korea. Who you knew, or more precisely were related to, was just as important as what you knew. She had the much-sought, twin advantages of whoing and whating. 

Kim had listened without speaking, just as she had been asked to do. During this time she had studied his eyebrows carefully, looking for tell-tale signs of emotional turmoil. She had learned to read those eyebrows. Poker was becoming popular in North Korea, an American import via China. Kim was not a good poker player, he took statistically unacceptable risks and his eyebrows gave him away. But he was a dangerous man, and she kept on his good side. Accordingly they had developed a good working relationship. He stayed out of her science, and she stayed out of his military. The twain met infrequently. Now they were not only to meet, they were to be mashed together in the most unwelcome way. 

Kim had replaced the handset softly, looked at her and said, “Well Comrade Ran it seems that, as the American’s say, ‘the jig is up’.”

She had examined Kim for some sign of humor. This was not something he was associated with, at least not when in the company of the science team. There was no hint of amusement. His eyebrows were so straight that she could have balanced chopsticks on them. Kim was pissed off, and that was a bad thing. The gun holstered at his hip was well oiled and used frequently enough that she was afraid of it. She had done nothing to show this of course. Weakness was unimaginable for someone in her position.

She had rested her elbows on her desk and leaned towards him. As expected, he had mirrored her position. “Do you believe him?” she had said. A reasonable opening move.

“Oh yes. He knew military details of the operation that only I know, and I have not accidentally leaked the information. We are completely exposed. I assume you concur with his instructions?”

Ran knew then that they really were finished. The scientific details relayed to her by the mysterious man on the phone, his perfect accent having no trace of Chinese or South Korean, were accurate. He knew everything had been done: where the bomb had come from, where it was now, how it had gotten there, and how they had planned to use it. But the bomb was old, so it was possible that someone could at least know its details. But if the military plans were known, then they were indeed finished. Well, at least the man had offered a route to the South, so that she would not have to suffer the physical and mental pain of necessary torture. Her husband would be quite happy. He had an illegal addiction to South Korean zombie movies. And she was sure that the food, even for the normal person, was better than even they received at the compound. Yes, all in all it could be much worse. No bomb, and no torture. 

“I concur, Comrade Kim,” she had replied. “I believe we will have time to discover how this happened once we reach Hanawon.” Hanawon was well-known to highly placed people in the North. Of course the government followed form, and officially it was labelled as a brain-washing facility used by the evil, capitalist, South Korean government. That explanation was good enough for the dumbsters, and there were plenty of those high-up in the Workers’ Party. But those smart enough to guess the reality considered it a sort of Samsara (were they allowed a religion, which they were not).

“Indeed.” Kim had sighed heavily. “I will make the preparations for the ‘party’ this Sunday, and inform my team that attendance is mandatory for them and their families.”

“I too,” Ran had said. The science team would welcome the break, although in reality they were simply finding things to do to look busy. But it had been too long since they had relaxed. They would grumble about having to go with the military of course. However, it was to be expected and, in fact, had the party not included them it would have raised suspicions. She had been asked to prepare a speech, and had scowled at that. Speaking about science she could do. Speaking about her feelings, not so much. Well, it had been a requirement so she had done it brilliantly, studying Oppenheimer’s speeches after the Trinity test for inspiration. Kim’s speech she imagined, would be timed exactly and contain no humanity in it at all. 

She and Kim had said nothing to each other about the mysterious man in the days following the call. What could they say? There was nothing to do except for Kim to organize the party and to inform their staff of theirs, and their families necessary attendance. For anyone to refuse would have been unthinkable. Bak In-Su, the Structural Engineer, was on the bus with his wife Kyung Soon and their two-month old daughter Mi-cha. The compound’s doctor had made a token effort to request that baby and mother stay behind, citing the baby’s nascent immune system. Ran had overruled him, not that she had needed to. Kyung Soon was a fanatical party member, and would not have allowed her daughter to miss the opportunity to be present at a celebration of the coming achievement. Ran had been irked that Kyung Soon was clearly ‘in the know’ about the bomb, and had made a note on Bak’s file that he was no longer to be trusted with top secret information. The Bak family had been granted the bus’ coveted back seats, so that Kyung Soon had extra space to accommodate the baby and its carrier. So far, Mi-cha had been well behaved. But the bus was air conditioned, so Ran expected this to change dramatically when they off-boarded for the walk to the lake’s shore. How the baby behaved when their transportation (she was, she admitted to herself, excited to see what this was) arrived would be interesting. For probably the thousandth time since she had been appointed the operation’s scientific leader, she congratulated herself on not having had children. 

A bump jolted her out of her thoughts. They had turned into the Park’s entry road. A short distance further the bus turned left along a less well used road. Still, it was even enough and they proceeded at a decent speed to the lake known as Hug-yon. The car park next to the lake was deserted. Of course this was not because no-one wanted to come here. In late August the lake was a popular swimming spot. However today there were no visitors. Kim had done his job well, as she had known he would. Even if they had not been coming here under false pretenses, the lake would have been made deserted for them. The fact that she saw no military of any sort told her that Kim had probably had the whole Park closed for today. She looked at her watch. They were five minutes late. This had been due to the lack of attendance of Captain Ro Mun-hee’s wife, Yeonmi. Her mother had had a heart attack and was in critical condition. Yeonmi had been required to leave earlier that morning. Ro was Kim’s second in command. That Kim knew that Ro’s wife’s absence was tantamount to a divorce (or worse, a death sentence), but said nothing or gave any indication that the news affected him in any way, showed the Colonel’s mettle. Ran hoped that the missing woman would not jeopardize defection for the rest of them. The man on the phone had been clear that everyone should be at the lake. But there had been nothing to do. Yeonmi needed to go, and could not be stopped without raising suspicion. Her mother was not expected to survive the day, so it was hardly appropriate to put the Captain’s wife under house arrest and forcibly transport her to the lake. Yeonmi was popular, and so the news of the mother’s condition had spread around the camp quickly; she could not be brought along in any way that could reasonably be explained. So Yeonmi was the only missing person. The five minutes spent having her name removed from the permission list, controlled by the Army personnel on guard duty outside the compound, had thus been unavoidable. Kim could not bypass this security provision, and had he tried the guards would have reported it, assuming the Senior Colonel was testing security protocols. So they were late. Ran did not like being late. She looked over at Kim and read the irritation in his eyebrows. Kim would have eradicated the very concept of lateness from the planet, were it within his power.

The bus door opened, and the mid-day weather immediately entered into combat with its artificial cousin. The people sat near the front of the bus got up and shuffled outside. The middle, and back rows followed in orderly fashion. When we get to the South, Ran thought, we will show the capitalists how buses should be emptied. It was just under one hundred meters to the picnic site, situated on the lake’s Northern side. The trees had been cleared back from the water’s edge. Tables - ancient wooden things vying with the trees for the prize of ‘most likely to become petrochemicals’ - had been placed for eating. Ran looked around, trying to be surreptitious about it. She saw nothing untoward. The day was still, and the sun beat down. She caught Kim looking at the tree-line to the north. Trees, nothing by trees. 

The man on the phone had been unequivocal. Time was pressing. By the time they got to the lake the bomb would no longer be in its hiding place, and the tunnel would have been destroyed. Their transports would be waiting. Ran and Kim would be allowed to make their speeches, explaining what had happened, and what was to occur. Then a representative from the agency responsible for foiling their plan would meet them. Formalities would be exchanged, then the entire group would be ushered onto transports for the journey to the South. Ran looked at the boxes of food, chairs, blankets, and paraphernalia that had been brought along. All of it was to be left behind. No suitcases, no personal items (she, however, had concealed a photograph of her parents in her bra), nothing at all of their soon-to-be former lives would go with them. Short of undressing, they would be as naked of possessions as they had when they had been born. She checked her watch, it was 12:10 PM. She looked at Kim, and inclined her head. They had not thought to agree on whom would go first. She had assumed that he, as primary leader, would take the prerogative. He bowed slightly, to acknowledge his seniority.    

Kim clapped his hands three times. The military and scientific staff immediately stopped what they were doing, and stood to attention. Most of the spouses did the same. Those not so ingrained with the operation’s social graces soon also stopped and stood upright, when they saw what the others had done.

Kim bowed again, this time deeper and to the group. “Comrades,” he said, “we have been engaged in a glorious endeavor these last four years. Many of you I have come to know well during this time. You know that I am not a man of many words. Actions are my world. I leave words to my esteemed scientific colleagues.” 

He gestured in Ran’s direction, thus singling her out as the representative of the scientific team. She bowed towards him. Kim looked at his watch, and tapped its face as if attempting to persuade it to perform some space-time feat that it was ill capable of performing.

“Sadly,” Kim continued, “events have occurred that have forced Comrade Ran and I to bring you all here today to this place.” 

Kim pointed emphatically to the lake. Everyone people turned around, however Ran stayed focused on Kim. She noticed that Captain Ro, ever anticipating his commander’s needs, did the same. Kim quickly unfastened the strap holding his pistol in its holster then moved his arm back to his side before the others turned back to look at him.

“Comrade Ran and I were contacted by an individual from an as yet unknown agency. This individual persuaded us both that our operation has been compromised.”

There was a collective gasp.

“In fact,” Kim continued, “If the information given to us is correct, and I have no reason to believe that it is not, the nuclear bomb we have worked so hard to place in the South is now gone. In addition, the tunnel joining its location to Kosong has been destroyed. Our operation has been shattered, and we are now all in grave danger.”

Movement near the back of the group, closest to the lakeside, caught Ran’s eye. She saw Hwa Myung Hee, their communications officer fall to her knees and tear open the bag she had brought with her. Ran saw Hwa extract something black and sleek from the bag and hold it to the side of her head.

“Sabotage!” Hwa shouted into the device. “Execute plan D6.”

The sound of the gunshot was as if a tree branch had snapped off next to Ran’s head. The back of Hwa’s head erupted, and she jerked backwards into the lake. A slick of crimson began to flood into the clear water. Someone screamed. 

Ran turned to look at Kim. A wisp of smoke emerged from the barrel of his drawn gun. He had fired through the group, hitting Hwa clean in the middle of her forehead. 

Kim turned to Ra and said, “As I suspected.”

“Yes sir,” Ra replied. He turned and moved through the crowd. No-one stirred or interrupted him. Death was no surprise in the North, however the act just performed had been unequivocal. They were not shocked, just surprised. Ra took a blanket that had been laid out, placed it over Hwa’s body and retrieved the device. He brought it to Kim, who examined it. 

“Ministry of State Security short-range communications unit,” Kim said. He dropped it on the ground and crushed it with his boot. Turning to Ran he said, “I believed the State Security Ministry had placed an operative in one of our teams. I just hadn’t completed my analysis of who it was.” He gestured to the lump that contained Hwa. “She was good, very good. A sad waste of resources.” Sighing he turned to the group. “If anyone else would like to express an opinion on the current state of affairs, I will entertain their objections now.”

Even the birds were silent.

“Your turn, Comrade,” Kim said to Ran. He kept the gun in hand at his side. 

Ran composed herself. “Please, everyone sit down,” she said. They all sat. Bak Kyung Soon had baby Mi-cha suckling at her breast. The baby looked happy. Kyung Soon did not.

“I had a speech prepared.” Ran gestured to the blanket covering Hwa. “However it seems useless now. I can only speak for the scientist in me. What we did here was amazing, I am so proud of my team. What Comrade Kim said is completely accurate, however he left out one piece of crucial information. So I believe it is my responsibility to tell you what is about to happen. I am sure that many of you will have realized the serious implications of the operation’s destruction.” She saw the military people nodding, and some of the scientists too. “For those that have not yet reached the conclusion, allow me to accelerate your thought process. By now Pyongyang will have noticed something is wrong, either because of our recently deceased colleague’s communication, or more likely seismic alarms triggered by the tunnel’s destruction. Since the bomb area is probably the most monitored space in our country’s history, the government may also be aware of its disappearance. As I speak, I am sure that the government is urgently reaching out to myself and Comrade Kim to find out what is going on. Our trip here will be reported in return. It will be inconceivable for our government to conclude that this was anything but a conspiracy. It will naturally want to question all involved, both on the teams and from their families. For anyone not sure what ‘questioning’ by the Ministry of State Security involves, I am sure Comrades Kim and Ro will be able to furnish you with suitably incentivizing descriptions. So, in order that we do not to end up dead, if we are lucky, or in a prison or forced labor camp, if we are not, the agency responsible for ending our work has arranged for us to be transported to Hanawon in the South.”

“Brain washing!” shrieked Bak Kyung Soon. She detached her baby, which elicited screams of disgust from the nursing infant. Kyung Soon seemed immune to her daughter’s displeasure and screamed, “You uncaring b***h. You’re dooming us to become capitalist robots. Death by firing squad is a better end to our lives.”

Ran sighed. Kyung Soon was a teacher at the compound’s elementary school. Teachers of young children in North Korea were trained to do one thing: replicate the Workers’ Party’s doctrine of docile communism. 

“I am sorry Comrade,” Ran said to Kyung Soon, “if you truly believe that. Those of us in more educated circles know that Hanawon is where defectors, those that survive the journey, go to be trained for a life in the South. If it did not exist, they would be as Stone Age people coming to live here: outdated, unskilled, and incapable of surviving in the modern world.” Ran looked at Bak In-Su, Kyung Soon’s husband. He looked unhappy. Probably a political match she realized for the first time. But baby Mi-cha was real, and a sign that there was a bond between them. The man on the phone had said that, one way or another, they would all be going. Well, all but Hwa obviously but that was no loss in Ran’s view. 

“Kyung Soon,” the woman’s husband said. “I trust Comrade Ran. She has been my supervisor for over three years and has never lied to me. If she says Hanawon is safe, then we should believe her.”

“You too!” Kyung Soon sobbed. 

Ran realized the situation was getting out of control. She glanced at her watch. It was 12:19 PM and they were already late to greet the agency’s representative. She must move things along. “Kyung Soon,” she said. “We have no time to debate Hanawon’s attributes. We are all leaving. No-one can be left behind, the agency’s representative was clear about this. If Hanawon does turn out to be evil, you will have my eternal apologies to comfort you.” 

Ran realized immediately that this was the wrong thing to have said. Kyung Soon’s eyes widened, and she clutched Mi-cha to her body so hard that the baby screamed in pain. She stumbled to her feet and backed towards the lake. Her husband reached to grab her arm, but tripped over their baby bag and fell to the ground. The family had settled a little away from the others, to give them some space for the baby. No-one else was close to Kyung Soon. 

“You won’t have us,” Kyung Soon shouted. She turned, and ran into the lake. 

Captain Ro was the first to react. He launched himself after Kyung Soon, but she was already waist deep and sending plumes of water up from her stout legs by the time Ro made it to the water’s edge. Ran saw Kyung Soon glance behind her, and presumably see Ro bearing down. By this time her husband had stumbled to his feet and was close behind Ro. Ran saw Kyung Soon’s face. It was devoid of logic. Fear was the only expression the woman had left. Kyung Soon flung herself into the water, holding Mi-cha underneath her.

“No!” wailed In-su.

Ro dove expertly into the water, and was upon Kyung Soon in three powerful strokes. Her feet were visible, breaching the water at an angle that said only one thing, I am not coming up. Ran saw Ro reach down with one arm and fish around in the water. In a moment he braced himself and hauled upwards. He raised Kyung Soon to the surface like a breaching submarine. Her arms were empty. 

    *************

Nathan had watched in horror as the woman dove into the lake with her baby in front of her. That a mother could attempt to kill her own baby was such an alien concept to him, that at first he refused to believe what he was seeing. He knew that it would be hard news to the North Koreans: the disappearance of the bomb, the destruction of the tunnel, their enforced defection to the South. But he had assumed they would accept the inevitable after the logic of it was explained to them. 

“Quick,” Nathan said. “Help them.”

“I am sorry Nathan,” The Orb replied. “The modules do not have on-board molecular transportation capability.”

“Then…the waldos. Get the waldos,” Nathan gasped.

“Nathan,” The Orb said softly. “The baby is already dead. Deploying the waldos would only increase the time delay.”

“Time delay,” Nathan shouted. “Who gives a s**t about that. This can’t be happening. Oh poor Gail, she must be distraught.”

“I am comforting Gail,” The Orb said. “She still has an important task to perform.”

“How is she going to do that now?” Nathan demanded.

The Orb said, “I have applied a neural suppressant to her.”

“You’ve done…what?” Nathan was not a person who was easy to anger, but the idea of The Orb messing with Gail’s brain opened a channel to a darkness he had not sat in since his parent’s divorce and sister’s betrayal (not betrayal, choice, a therapy-memory reminded him). 

“Nathan,” The Orb said. “Listen to me carefully.”

Nathan clamped his mouth tight, and gripped the seat’s arm rests.

“I cannot tell you why it is critical that the modules get back before sunrise in Mønsted. But please believe me when I say that much depends on this. Much more than what is happening here. The margin of error on this mission is closing rapidly. Even at maximum speed you have little spare time to get these people to Hanawon, and return to Mønsted by dawn. I am not ignorant of the feelings of the people below us, and more importantly to Gail’s potential distress. But I have coached her on her representation to the North Koreans. This is her task to perform. We need her focused and ready.”

Nathan hated himself for thinking it, but he knew that The Orb was right. It wasn’t human, it didn’t have to care about these people. Was he to think like this too? To become alien over being human, and sacrifice what he loved for the greater good. It seemed he was. What choice was there? “Very well,” he said. “How long do we have to get them onboard?”

“It is 12:21 PM here, 5:21 AM in Mønsted,” The Orb said. “If the modules have not departed in nine minutes, I cannot guarantee you will arrive before the sun’s first rays breach the land over my Cavern.”

“F**k,” Nathan said. His father would have clipped his ear for such language, but it was the right word at the right time. The Orb was smart enough not to rebuke him. 

            **************************

Gail felt good. Gail felt happy. Gail felt contended. 

It was her turn to show what she could do. Nathan and Christina had done their bits, but from the comfort of their control rooms. She would do her part face to face. No skulking around in the shadows, or relying on mechanical wizardry (well, apart from the translation device). The Orb told her it was time, so she pushed the ‘open’ button and watched the ramp descend to the ground. Through the hold’s opening she could see the North Koreans gathered in front of her. They were nearly all at the lakeside, huddled around something. But her targets, the two leaders, stood apart. They alone had seen the ship’s reveal. Neither of them moved. Gail strode down the ramp, and marched across the open ground to meet them.

The Orb had coached her to bow to the man first. He was Senior Colonel Kim Myung-dae, Korean People’s Army.

“Colonel Kim,” she said. “I am the representative sent to meet you.”

The Colonel glanced behind him at the group by the lakeside, then looked back and said, “I assume your age is not an impediment to your mission?”

“Not at all,” Gail replied. She turned to the woman and bowed again. “Comrade Ran Eun Kyung. A pleasure.”

Ran looked at Kim, then back at Gail. The scientist shrugged and said, “Your translation system’s ability is remarkable. There is no hint of an accent, and your grammar is perfect. I would like to examine the science behind it.”

Gail said, “Perhaps in the future. For now, we are pressed for time and must embark the transports.”

“I assume,” Ran gestured to the group at the lakeside. “that you are aware of what has just occurred here.”

Gail nodded. She wasn’t sure why she nodded, but knew that something had happened and that Ran knew what it was. Whatever had happened, the explaining of it could wait. Time was the enemy here. She said, “We must leave immediately. Is everyone here?”

“Everyone?” Kim said. 

Gail saw the Colonel’s left eyebrow twitch. What an odd reaction. “Yes, everyone.”

Kim looked at Ran, then back at Gail. “We are minus three,” he said. 

“Three?” Gail said. This surprised her for some reason she could not understand. She held up her fingers, as if to count on them. “What three?”

Kim replied, “My second-in-command’s wife had to stay behind. I was forced to execute an undercover operative, and the baby of our structural engineer is…” he looked at Ran.

“Deceased,” Ran said to Gail.

Gail thought this sounded bad. But time was against them and they had to get onboard. “Very well.” She Pointed at her QT. “Please observe.”

Ran and Kim looked at the hold door, open and presenting an odd painting with the trees half visible behind it. As agreed, The Orb deactivated the stealth capability. Ran gasped, whilst Kim shook his head. 

“American?” Kim asked.

“Unaffiliated,” Gail replied. 

Ran had clearly done some initial calculations. “I do not believe that this craft is big enough to transport us all.”

Gail smiled, and waved her hand in the general direction left of her QT. The other two dutifully appeared. Their ramps sank to the ground, and Nathan and Christina stepped out. “Thirteen in that one,” she pointed at Nathan’s. “Nineteen in the farthest one, and the rest in mine.”

“Only thirteen?” Ran said, indicating Nathan’s QT.

“It’s the one with the bomb in it,” Gail replied. “Less room for passengers.”

Ran’s mouth formed an O shape. 

Gail saw a man look around from the group by the lake. His clothes were dripping wet. He had clearly seen the QTs. He reached for something by his side, but a gesture from Kim stopped him. The man walked carefully towards them.

“Captain Ro,” Kim said. “My second-in-command.”

Gail bowed to Ro, who bowed back.

Kim turned to Gail. “What do we call you?” He said.

Gail used the pre-determined codename that The Orb had assigned her. “You can call me Joan.” 

“Hmmm,” Kim said. He turned to Ro. “Comrade Ro, meet Comrade Joan. She and her colleagues will be transporting us to the South. Please organize the people into three groups: thirteen in the middle ship, nineteen in the far ship, and eighteen in this one.” Kim Pointed to Gail’s QT.

“But Colonel,” Ro said. “What about my wife? You know what will happen to her if she is left behind.” Ro gestured at the ships. “Such stealth tech is surely capable of flying to Nampo and collecting her.”

Kim looked at Gail, who shook her head. “No time,” she said.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Kim said to Ro. “I wish it were possible to do this thing, but it is not.”

Ro took a step back and Gail saw Ran tense. She noticed then that Kim had a gun in his hand. Ro was slowly reaching towards the pistol holstered at his right hip.

“Don’t,” Kim said to Ro, his hand was raising like a drawbridge.

Suddenly Ro’s eye’s glazed over. He went limp and his head drooped. Kim looked at Gail. 

“A necessity,” Gail said to them. “Anyone not able to commit to transportation will be numbed.”

“Numbed?” Ran looked at Kim. “Some sort of neural suppressant. Much more advanced than ours.”

Gail saw Nathan raise his wrist and tap his watch. “We must leave,” she said. “Will anyone else require numbing?”

“Yes.” Ran Pointed to a sodden heap at the lakeside. “That woman.” The woman was huddled on the ground, clutching a dank bundle to her breast. A man was weeping by her side. 

“Very well,” Gail nodded in the lake’s direction. The woman lurched upright and stood motionless. She dropped the bundle on the ground. The man picked it up reverently. 

“Comrades,” Kim shouted. “It is past time for us to depart.”

The people turned around and there were shouts of disbelief. Several of the scientists took involuntary steps towards the QTs. Gail assumed that the lure of the technology was enough attraction by itself to get them going. 

“Can you help get these two,” Gail gestured at Captain Ro and then the woman by the lake, “onboard.”

“I will help her,” Ran said, and walked towards the lake.

Gail saw Ran talking to the people by the lake and gesturing to the QTs. People began to move in their direction. 

Kim said, “Can you assist Captain Ro onto your ship? I will follow once I have divided the group up.” 

“Yes, of course.”

Kim turned to walk away as Gail moved to take the Captain’s arm. She stopped. “Colonel?” Kim halted, and turn back to face her. Gail pointed at his revolver. “I’m afraid that any weapons will need to be surrendered before we leave.”

Kim frowned. “You have my word that there will be no trouble.”

Gail smiled. “Please be assured that, even if anyone wanted to cause trouble, they could not. However, once we reach Hanawon we cannot have any firearms or weapons present. I trust you understand.”

Kim frowned. He looked down at the gun in his right hand, touched it briefly with his left, then turned it around and presented it, grip first, to Gail. Then he moved to the Captain’s side, withdrew the pistol from his holster, and gave it to her. 

It was the first time Gail had ever held one gun, let alone two. She felt a momentary itch to pull one of the triggers to see what would happen. It passed. She put a gun in each of her pockets. “Are there any other weapons?” She asked.

Kim shrugged. “I would be shocked if the dead security agent is not carrying a concealed weapon. It is standard practice. As for the rest of the people, I believe the answer would be no.” Kim turned and walked away.

Gail took the Captain’s arm and led him gently to her QT. “Watch your step,” she said as they reached the ramp’s edge. She then realized that this was a pointless statement. The Captain was essentially asleep. She made sure his faltering steps didn’t trip him, guided him up the ramp and sat him in the chair closest to the door. Buckles emerged as soon as he sat, and strapped him firmly to the chair. Gail went back down the ramp and found people milling around its entrance. “Please, enter,” she said, gesturing up the ramp. “Find a seat. Don’t be alarmed by the buckles. They will deploy automatically and secure you for the journey. We will be traveling very fast.” She knew that the buckles were for emotional safety rather than physical. The QT at any speed was safer than siting in your lounge watching TV.

Colonel Kim was the last person to ascend the ramp. He stood in front of Gail and said, “The body by the lake, I suggest you remove it. Letting it remain here would leave unwarranted evidence.”

Gail heard a noise and looked out at Nathan’s QT. A swarm of waldos had erupted from the hold and were streaming towards a blanketed lump by the lakeside. Kim followed her glance. She watched the waldos wrap the lump in the blanket and transport it back to the QT. The blanket disappeared into the hold, and the door closed. 

“That is the ship with the bomb?” Kim asked.

“Yes,” Gail said.

“How appropriate.” Kim walked to a seat, sat down, and didn’t flinch when the buckles wrapped themselves around his torso.

Gail pushed the button to close the ramp. The sunlight vanished and was replaced by a greenish glow that The Orb had assured them would promote de-stressing amongst the occupants. Gail turned and ascended the stairs to the control room. She looked immediately at the clocks. It was 5:33 AM in Denmark. They had thirty-five minutes until sunrise in Mønsted.

********************

Kim Myung-dae had worked his way up through the ranks of the Korean People’s Army by being practical. Yes, practically vicious when needed, but practical at all times. He had fully expected to be promoted to General after the successful detonation of the bomb, and the South’s subsequent, highly anticipated desire to enter into reunification talks (or its invasion, whichever happened first). Now he was required to pivot and prepare for a new life in the South, doing what? Practicality could get you a long way, but not at the age of forty-one in a country that demonized you. If he was lucky, he would spend the rest of his days being entertained by one of America’s clandestine intelligence agencies. If he was unlucky, peeling potatoes in a cheap restaurant was probably the best he could hope for. He was glad that his wife was not alive to witness his downfall. The scheming witch would doubtless have cackled herself to the early grave that cancer had already delivered her to. 

Joan had informed him, shortly after the transport had taken off, that the fight time to Hanawon would be approximately one minute. He was no scientist of Ran Eun Kyung’s stature to be sure, however even his knowledge of physics reminded him that speed equalled distance divided by time. He knew precisely the distance to Seoul from Kosong (159 kilometers), and since Hanawon was northeast of Seoul, closer to the border, he cut off 39 kilometers for good measure. 120 kilometers in 1 minute, a speed of 7,200 kilometers per hour. Fast, but not staggeringly fast. He had a feeling that the transport was being throttled back to avoid giving away its top speed. This was smart, and he approved. 

In the time it had taken him to perform his staggering feat of mathematics, he could feel the ship descending. Momentarily a slight bump told him it had landed, and the buckles duly confirmed this by retracting. He had not tried to loosen them during the trip, on the assumption that it would have been a waste of energy to even attempt it. He looked to his left at Ro, who was still in some form of induced coma. The Captain was breathing normally, and looked perfectly fine other than the fact that his eyes had a glassy appearance and, for some reason, didn’t blink. Kim had attended training in not blinking; it was mandatory for any officer who was to meet military from other countries. Kim had once attended a peace conference in Beijing as military attaché. He had discovered to his delight that not blinking did indeed rattle other officers, especially the Americans. The Japanese were fairly good at it though. He had acknowledged the skill of his counterpart from the Japanese navy with a bow more formal than strictly necessary. Ro would have already claimed the Army record for not blinking, Kim was sure of it. 

The girl - he could not convince himself to describe her otherwise, no matter how much gravitas she exhibited - came down the steps from what he assumed was the ship’s control room. “We have arrived,” she said.

Kim stood and looked questioningly at the sealed ramp door. “We are expected?”

“You are not,” Joan said.

He was not surprised. The security risk of announcing their arrival would have been too great. In her place, he would have done the same thing. He hoped that Hanawon was suitably staffed on a Sunday. Intelligence said it was, but with capitalists you never knew. Joan pushed a button above her head, and immediately the ramp descended. Light flooded into the hold. Kim simply turned and marched down to his destiny. He did not regret not saying goodbye to Joan. She had, in effect, ruined his life. Saving it seemed the least she could have done, and due recompense. 

Stepping out into the sun, Kim took a deep breath. Was it his imagination, or was the air fresher here? It was the same air surely. The DMZ was not that far away, and there was no intel on the South using any sort of atmospheric processing. They all breathed the same air, as far as he knew. He shrugged and put it down to mentality. He was now a free man. Free in the sense of being free from obligation to the State. Whether he was actually free remained to be seen. Other people came down the ramp and joined him. Joan was not with them. One of the junior officers had Captain Ro by the arm. Ro’s face looked serene. This could not last, Kim knew. He guessed that as soon as the transport had departed beyond the range of whatever nuero-magic was holding Ro in its grasp, the Captain would awake from his stupor. Ro was going to be angry and upset when this happened. Kim knew that Ro had a good relationship with his wife. He pitied the younger man. Better to be in an arranged marriage with someone you despised. Easier to let go.

 He heard noises to his left, looked around and saw people disembarking from two holes in reality. The other two stealth transports. Ran Eun Kyung was coming out of the ship to his left. She had one arm around Bak Kyung Soon, who was still clutching the dripping coffin of her baby. Kyung Soon’s husband was on his wife’s other side.

“What do we do now, Colonel?” The question came from one of the science team.

Kim saw a path out of the clearing they had landed in. A signpost said ‘Front gate’. Kim pointed. “That way. Follow me.” He set out at a pace which would have gotten him lashed during basic training. But Ro was in no shape to do double-time, and he imagined Bak Kyung Soon was even worse off. He didn’t look back when he felt the merest hint of a breeze on his neck. Joan, her technology, and her associates had a schedule and they were behind. As a strict timekeeper, he wished them luck in getting where they needed to be in time. As a (soon to be ex) senior officer in the Korean People’s Army, he cursed them in the name of every ancestor he could remember. And he had a very, very good memory.

********************

“S**t, s**t, s**t,” Nathan said. “How fast can you push them?” He watched the plump greenery of South Korea shrink in his view pane. 

“I can accelerate the modules to their theoretical maximum speed of twenty thousand kilometers per hour,” The Orb said. “However my calculations show that you will still arrive at Mønsted one minute after sunrise.”

“S**t,” said Nathan again. “Ok do it.” He felt a twinge of acceleration. “Are we screwed as soon as the sun appears?”

“Not necessarily. The topography of Mønsted may allow me to bring the modules in at an altitude which means the first rays will not strike them. As inadvisable as that is.”

“How low is that?” Nathan asked.

“1.86 meters above ground level.”

“But,” Nathan said, “that’s not much more than my height. Why is it inadvisable?”

“That close to the ground, even at such an early hour, risks detection by people. The modules are invisible, but they cannot break the laws of physics. Three objects of this size create air disturbances. Should they fly over someone, it would be noticed.”

“Or into someone,” Nathan commented. 

The Orb didn’t respond. 

“Jeez, ok then,” Nathan said. “It might be best to turn off the view screens, unless you want to spend time after the mission cleaning the consoles.”

“The modules will be deconstructed and returned to their inherent states once the mission is over,” The Orb replied.

Nathan decided to change the subject. “How long before I can talk to the others?”

“You will clear North Korean airspace in forty five seconds,” The Orb said. “At that point ship-to-ship communications will be re-established.”

“Ok,” Nathan said. “What is Gail’s state?”

“She is still neurally suppressed. I have been holding her in that state pending discussion with you.”

Nathan considered their options: turn Gail loose now, leaving he and Christina to endure what was probably going to be the worst twenty or so minutes of their lives; or keep her under until they got back, thus delaying the inevitable and certainly making it much, much worse. “I need to talk to Christina first,” he said.

“I understand,” The Orb said. “You will be able to talk to her in twenty seconds.”

Nathan counted to twenty in his head. He did it in Latin to avoid rushing. Reaching viginti he said, “Christina, can you hear me?”

“Christ yes,” Christina said. “What the actual F happened back there? Did someone get shot?”

“Yes. I have the body in my hold.”

“Holy s**t,” Christina said. “Gail must be upset as hell.”

“Ummm,” Nathan said. “Look I need to talk to you about that. The Orb has Gail neurally suppressed.”

“Wait, what?” Christina said. “Why would it do that?” She paused. “Not because of what I had to do in the tunnel?”

“No, although you know we’ll have to deal with that in due course. I’m afraid it’s worse. The mother drowned her baby rather than let it be relocated to the South. They took the body with them when they got off at Hanawon.” 

Christina gasped. “I didn’t know what was going on at the lake. The Orb said to stay put at the bottom of my ramp and wait for my passengers. I could see something was going on. I just assumed that someone who didn’t want to go was putting up a fight. Damn. But why did it put Gail under?”

“Because she still had a job to do. The Orb thought she couldn’t do it if she was upset about the baby, which she is surely going to be. She’s still under. Do we bring her out now, or wait until we get back?”

Nathan looked at the CEST clock on his control board. It read 5:53 AM. There was only had fifteen minutes of darkness remaining in Mønsted. Did he want to spend the next quarter of an hour consoling Gail from a distance of a hundred meters, flying at twenty thousand kilometers an hour? Christina put him out of his misery.

“I’m already going to be her enemy,” she said. “Keep her under, and tell her it was my decision. There’s no need for both of us to cop the blame. She won’t talk to me ever again after this I’m sure.”

Nathan sagged into his chair. He agreed, although he wished he didn’t. He desperately wanted to console Gail, but accepted that this would be best done face to face. He couldn’t hug her from here.

“Are you listening?” he said.

“Yes Nathan,” The Orb said.

“Keep her under until we get to Mønsted,” Nathan said. “Once we’ve left the QTs, release the suppressant. Christina and I will deal with the consequences then.”

“Very well,” The Orb said, then added, “Did you explain to Christina about the low-level transect?”

“The me say what now?” Christina asked.

“Oh yeah,” Nathan replied. “I forgot to add that in order to even get to the point where we become punching bags for Gail, we’re going to have to cut a few daisies.”

************************

Christina had her eyes closed. Even though the view screen of her QT was blank, she knew that she was less than two meters from solid ground, traveling at a speed that made the elevator from her bedroom to the Cavern look like a paint drop. Sadly, closing her eyes forced her brain to divert from seeing imminent death to focusing on the forthcoming reunion with Gail. She considered asking The Orb to turn on the view screen, deeming this the lesser of two evils. But Nathan had instructed it to keep the viewers off, so there was no point in asking. She was left to ponder her guilt, and to figure out how the hell she was going to comfort Gail. Recalling her decision to ask Gail to marry her, she wondered if that tactic might work. Then she remembered the effect of kissing Gail in the cave, and realized that a proposal wasn’t the way to go. She hoped to have a chance to fulfill her dream, but considering the choice she had made to kill the Secret Service agent she doubted she would get the opportunity. That was assuming that Gail was even capable of coming back from the place she would surely go when she comprehended the baby’s death. Then Christina remembered the corpse that Nathan had in his QT. Quite the body count. Christina wondered if Plan A mightn’t have been the best thing after all. At least none of them would need therapy. She herself was open to the possibility; Nathan and Gail, she knew, were frequent fliers. 

She looked at the CEST clock on her dashboard. The KST clock had blanked out, its usefulness over. The CEST clock cheerily said 6:08 AM. 6:08, sunrise. She imagined the sun poking its arc over Denmark’s eastern horizon. Another Sunday in the Mark of the Danes. A normal day. A rest day. But not a normal day, at least not for her. And not a normal day for pretty much everyone else on Earth, although they didn’t know it. They had been saved from the ghastly spark of nuclear war. And it had only cost three lives. Well, probably four in fact because that poor Captain’s wife had been left behind. From what she gathered, the woman wouldn’t survive. Christina shivered at the thought of being tortured for information that you didn’t have. The torturer would go deeper and deeper, knowing righteously that the information was in there. But it wasn’t. The poor woman would likely die, and die in ignorance. Not for a cause, just because her mother got sick and she unknowingly chose death over life. What a clusterfuck. 

The clock stepped over an invisible line to 6:09 AM. Talking of clusterfucks, she thought.

“You have arrived,” The Orb said. 

“Did we beat it?” Nathan said.

Christina heard the anxiety in his voice. At this point, she didn’t really care if they had ducked in under the sun’s radar.

“I will need to conduct some analysis using the modules’ logs,” The Orb said. “In the meantime, please disembark so I can eject the bomb and demolecularize the modules.” 

Christina got the hint. She vaulted down the staircase and punched the open button. The ramp was still descending as she launched herself out of the module. She turned to salute it. As she watched, the ship began to sink into the ground as if on quicksand. Within thirty seconds it had vanished. She turned and saw Gail stood nearby, looking at a similar plot of empty space. Nathan’s was the only module left, and that only because the waldos were in the final stages of bringing the bomb out. At least most of them were. Behind the bomb came a smaller detachment with a neatly wrapped, blue/red blanket containing the body of the female Secret Service agent. No sooner had the body cleared the ramp, than it swung up and Nathan’s QT performed the same disappearing act as its siblings.

Christina saw Gail looking at the body. It remained stationary, supported by the waldos. The expression on Gail’s face was one of confusion. Christina moved to her side and said, “Are you ok?” Gail turned to look at her, eyes unfocused.

“Yes, of course,” Gail said. “Why wouldn’t I be? Everything went swimmingly.”

Gail’s use of the word ’swimmingly’ was so out of character that Christina let out a sob. Gail loved period dramas, especially anything Bronte. Gail’s subconscious was doing its best to supply her with word-oxygen to balance the depleted atmosphere of her conscious mind.  

Nathan’s phone rang. “It’s The Orb.” He answered it on speaker.

“Please stand back,” The Orb said. “I will now launch the bomb, and the body.”

“Body?” Gail said.

“Hush,” Christina said. “It’s all going to be ok.” She looked at Nathan and mouthed, “Body?”

Nathan jerked his thumb upwards and whispered, “No evidence.”

Christina understood. The corpse of a North Korean secret service agent on Danish soil would doubtless create political, judicial, military, intelligence, and probably climate problems thrown in for good measure. The sun would take care of all of these, and give the agent the dubious honor of being the first human to receive a solar cremation. She watched as the waldos supporting the body moved to the bomb. On reaching it, they deftly climbed its glistening side so that the body rested on top of the casing. The waldos ejected straps, and bound the agent’s body to its atomic casket. Then, with a lack of noise that Christina’s senses told her was impossible for an object that size, the bomb and its deceased passenger lifted off at about the speed of a decent-sized firework let off from Tivoli on New Year’s Eve. The difference was that the bomb kept going, and didn’t (thankfully) imitate its twenty-fifth cousin, twice removed. Within ten seconds, the bomb had vanished.

“The bomb will reach the sun’s corona before the end of the week,” The Orb said. “At a temperature of one million degrees Centigrade the corona will consume the bomb almost instantaneously. The body will be incinerated before that happens.”

Christina was glad that she and Nathan were the ones that would be comforting Gail. The Orb had a ways to go in human relations.

“What about the sun’s rays?” Nathan said. 

The speaker on Nathan’s phone was silent for so long, that Christina watched him tap the speaker button a few times to make sure it hadn’t been deactivated by accident. 

At last, The Orb said, “My analysis of the log files shows that the top of Nathan’s module was struck by sunlight. This deflected several of the sun’s rays into the troposphere.”

Christina stamped her foot. “Well? What does that mean?”

“It means,” The Orb said, “That Nathan’s module has probably been detected.”

“Detec-” Christina was cut off by Gail’s nails digging into her arm. “Ouch,” she yelled. She turned to Gail and immediately saw that her friend’s eyes were clear; not only clear, but like her nails very, very sharp. 

**********************

 

Gail’s memory had been foggy. She had remembered some things as if they were in front of her, but others were murky shapes in the distance. And there were events she had known had happened to her, but she could not recollect at the time. Now the fog had lifted. Everything that had happened during her encounter with the North Koreans was clear now. The urgent slick of blood, shards of skull, and insipid grey matter merging into the lake’s water made her want to hurl. Then she remembered the baby. And she did hurl, over Christina’s shoes. 

“Gross,” said Christina, stepping back.

Gail retained her talonesque hold on Christina’s arm. A dribble of blood slid down it, dropped onto Christina’s shoe, and made a sun-dot in the middle of the yellow mess. Gail retched, but there was nothing more to come up. He mouth felt like a chemistry experiment had taken a s**t in it. She looked up and stabbed Nathan with a stare. “I want to talk to it,” she said.

Nathan stepped back a pace. “Look, The Orb had to make a call and I know you don’t like it, but I think it was the right thing to do. If it hadn’t suppressed you, there’s no way you could have done what you needed to do.”

“That baby,” Gail yelled, “is dead. Dead! Don’t you f*****g care about that?”

“Yes of course I do,” Nathan said. “It’s a tragedy. But there’s nothing you could’ve done to stop it. It happened so fast. Even The Orb didn’t have time to prevent it.”

“Prevent it?” Gail said. “Are you telling me it couldn’t have anticipated what was going to happen, and stopped it beforehand?”

“Well,” Nathan said, “I’m not sure.”

“Call it,” Gail ordered.

“No,” Nathan said with conviction. “I don’t think it’s very happy with us right now. We didn’t get back in time and whatever badness that means has got it PO’d. I can tell from its voice. I think the best thing we can do is head back to Copenhagen, sit down, and talk this through.” He looked at Christina.

Gail followed Nathan’s glance. Christina’s face was pale. Gail had assumed this was due to the unfortunate covering of her shoes in vomitus. But now… “Do you have something to tell me?” she said to Christina.

“I…I do,” Christina replied. “But I don’t want to. You’re upset and it will make things worse.”

“Worse?” Gail yelled. “One person was left behind, almost certainly to be tortured to death. Another was executed by the lake, and a third,” she sobbed, “was drowned by a mother so crazy she would kill her own baby rather than take her to the South. How could things possibly get worse?”

“I don’t know,” Christina mumbled. She wiped sick onto tufts of grass. “F*****g gross,” she said.

Gail unhitched her claws from Christina’s forearm and instead grabbed it with both hands. “Look at me,” she demanded. Christina looked at her. There were tears in those hazel eyes. A sadness Gail recognized, because she felt it herself. “What did you do?” Gail said. 

Christina used her free arm to wipe her eyes, then looked at Nathan.

“Don’t look at him, look at me,” Gail snapped. 

Christina reverted her gaze to Gail. 

“Gail,” Nathan said.

“I want to hear it from her.” Gail’s eyes never left Christina’s. “Go on, spit it out.”

“The tunnel,” Christina said. 

“You blew it up.”

“Yes. But there was a complication.”

Gail thought back to the now-clear events by the lake. The Security agent had pulled a communications device out of her bag, and called someone to activate a plan. Colonel Kim had said it was a short range unit. Someone close by who could take action to prevent sabotage. There was one logical place for such a person to be stationed. Gail pulled Christina in close, ignoring the acrid stench wafting up from below. “You killed someone else.” It was a statement, not a question.

Christina huffed. “You make it sound like I killed those other people. I didn’t do that, they did it to themselves. There was a man in the tunnel, another Security agent. There wasn’t time to do anything about him, so I made the call and detonated the waldos.”

Gail let go of Christina’s arm and took several steps backwards. Nathan moved, but Gail held her right hand up. “Stay away from me,” she said tightly. Her left hand brushed against her pocket. Inside it was something bulky and warm. She had been forgotten what, but now she had been remembered. There was one in her other pocket as well. One for each of them, the rage thought. It tried to resurface, but the defenses put in place by expensive doctors held. For now, the rage thought, and sank back into the abyss. 

“I thought I knew you both.” She sharpened the accusations and let them fly. “But you,” she Pointed at Nathan, “are just as uncaring as it is. And you,” she redirected her aim at Christina, “have no sense of humanity in you.” She dropped her arm to her side, looked at the brightening horizon and said, “I hate you both.” She turned and walked toward a distant carpark. She felt her heart thump in time with every step that took her further from her former friends. She counted the thumps. After one hundred she stopped counting. She didn’t feel anything anymore. 

      *****************

The jetcopter landed in a field east of the Caves’ car park. The wining turbine drowned out Christina’s words to Nathan. He simply motioned her to get in. She climbed in the opposite door to him, closed it and put on the headset. He did the same thing.

“-he hell are we going to do now?” she said.

The jetcopter took off and climbed swiftly. Its engines pivoted and they accelerated southeast towards Aarhus. The Orb had told Nathan that it would take just under an hour to reach Copenhagen’s Kastrup airport. The tunnel elevator would have been faster, but that would have required them to re-trace the route that Nathan had taken out of the Cavern after his first meeting with The Orb. This was cumulatively faster, if not considerably more expensive. The Orb had assured him that Orbic Industries could easily afford it. Nathan’s phone buzzed. He grabbed it, hoping for a message from Gail. It was from The Orb:

Taxi collecting Gail in 12 minutes

“Gail’s being picked up by a taxi,” Nathan said. Taxis in Denmark were usually extremely comfortable cars, normally made by Mercedes. Gail would be home in three-ish hours, roughly two hours later than they would get back to his house. 

“Oh great,” Christina said. “She’s going to have three hours to stew before we can even try to talk to her again.” She slapped the leather armrest. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. Gail hates you, hates me, hates our circular friend, and has, in the past, required therapy for something that I have not been privy to. Don’t you think that sounds like a bad combo?”

Nathan didn’t know what to say, so said nothing.

“Christ,” Christina yawned and rubbed her eyes. “I’m going to sleep. Wake me up when we get there.” She leaned back in the chair, folded her arms, and closed her eyes.

Nathan was tired too, but he needed to speak to The Orb. He knew better than to call it from inside the jetcopter, so he texted it:

We messed everything up didn’t we?

No, not everything. You prevented the bomb’s detonation. That was a great success.

Yes but at what cost?

The lives lost today are regrettable. But considering the alternative, the cost was inexpensive.

Gail doesn’t see it that way.

I know. I hope she will understand given time.

And the detection you spoke of?

It is too soon to tell. But I fear the worst if I am being honest.

Worse than the bomb going off?

I do not want to alarm you, so I reserve judgement. 

Nathan didn’t enjoy being jerked around. But he trusted The Orb still, so he took the statement at face value and resolved not to ask any more questions. Gail was the most important thing right now. Repairing his relationship with her was going to be the most critical thing he needed to do once he got back to the city. Should he go to her house today? He guessed not. They would see each other at school tomorrow. They had Chemistry together in the afternoon; it was a lab session and she was his partner, so he would talk to her then. 

He spent the rest of the trip staring out of the window at the rushing landscape below them. Compared to the QT it was like walking, but by modern standards it was fast. They landed at the Kastrup Jetcopter pad at 7:25 AM. The Orb had arranged for a limo; it was waiting for them as they touched down. He shook Christina awake as the wheels whined out of the copter’s undercarriage. She was blurry-eyed and groggy. After landing, he jumped out and raced around the copter to open her door and help her out. She staggered and almost fell. Escorting her to the limo, which had stopped outside the landing circle, he felt like he had done when his grandmother had been in her final days in hospital. When visiting, he had helped her walk and felt like he was an extension of her. Christina leaned on him as his ailing grandmother had. He bore the weight gladly. He only wished that Gail was also there to support Christina. He felt in his heart that Gail and Christina were a match. But was there a path for them now? He had seen it with his parents; the glorious connection rendered asunder by life. 

Closing the limo’s door on Christina, he went to the other side and got in. The divider separating them from the driver was up. He closed the door and the limo moved off smoothly, its electric motor supplying more than sufficient torque to get them up to speed. They drove by the sea, along the Amager Strandvej. It was a fresh morning on a sunny Sunday in August. People were out enjoying themselves. Nathan envied them. Considering what had happened in the last four hours, he wished for a moment that his life was still ordinary. But it was not, clearly. The Orb had changed everything for him, and he had pulled Christina and Gail into this tornado. They had all had a choice, and they had all accepted it. He thought of the Captain’s wife, somewhere in North Korea. Probably arrested by now; scared, and without her husband to help her. And he thought of the dead Security agents, killed for doing the work of a government that the world considered evil. And he thought of the baby, its body lying somewhere in the Hanawon center. Would they hold a funeral for her? How would the mother survive? How could she survive with what she had done?

A great sadness overcame him, and a crushing weight of fatigue compressed his consciousness into a desperate sleep.