“Congratulations, Sister,” he said, his voice soft and conciliatory.
“You’re moving up now, like a real Syung. I’m proud of you.”
The victories piled on, and Kara was speechless.
“I don’t … Lang, it’s been so long.”
“It has, and I’m the only one to blame. Kara, I’ve said things to you … not just that one time, but al my life. I want you to know two things. One, I never meant it. Especial y not what I said about Chi-Qua. I’d never hurt her. Two, I always wanted you to succeed.
I knew you were meant for more than Marketing, but I didn’t think you were strong enough. You are. You showed everyone. A little secret: You put Mother and Father in their place in a way Dae and me never could. We don’t have half your courage.”
Of al that Kara dreamed, this moment seemed most unlikely.
She wanted to ask if he was drunk; better not to spoil the vibe.
“You have no idea how that much means, Lang. I’m sorry what I did to you. I …”
“No, you’re not, and you shouldn’t be. I almost destroyed us. This family needs a soldier. It’s the only way we survive.”
“Soldier? Lang, I think Syung-Low wil do just fine for itself.”
Lang dropped his smile and scanned the room. He brought her close and sank his voice.
“There’s a war coming. Wars need soldiers.”
“A war. Wait, what?”
“I tried to look away. I thought the mahali might help. It did for a while. But then they made me look closer. I was going to be their man for the future. Can you believe that? Me. The drug dealer.”
“Lang, what are you on about?”
“I’m just very glad you’re strong, Kara. They’l need you.”
“Who? For what?”
“It’s not going to end wel . Kara, they’re going to burn it al .”
“Burn …? Lang, have you taken something? Have you …?”
He hugged her tight.
“Focus on engineering. Keep a close eye. Be a soldier.”
When he stepped back, Lang wiped away his tears and finished the last of his wine.
“Go on, Kara. Have some fun. We’l speak again. I promise.”
He set down his glass and staggered away without looking back.
Her eyes followed Lang down a long corridor until he disappeared around a bend.
Kara Syung never saw her brother again.
Two days later, his body washed up on a north coast beach one hundred meters from where Kara celebrated her sixteenth birthday.
Authorities found no signs of foul play.
Bottomless grief consumed the Syung estate for weeks. The desolation in her parents’ eyes made clear: They never saw it coming, nor did they understand why. Dae, who spent his life coveting every moment at his dear brother’s side, lapsed into days of isolation. When sobbing ended and tears dried, the family searched for answers. They never said the word aloud, though everyone surely thought it. But no Syung ever committed suicide, and no Syung ever would.
For her part, Kara held tight to that final moment with Lang, even keeping it from Chi-Qua.
He was broken. He was terrified. And in the end, he loved her enough to warn her.
Kara wrote down the conversation exactly as she remembered it and stored his words where no one might find them. Just as he asked, she kept her eyes open. She made engineering her life. She searched for answers when she did not know the questions.
Until one day, the war did in fact begin.
RYLLEN JEE
We honor the bold and daring, those who look Death in the face and do not blink. We write poems about them. We build monuments and name cities in tribute. On occasion, the revered are seen in a new light by fresh eyes, and those once praised are now pil oried and swept clean from history. Ryl en Jee fits neither of these categories, but I wonder where he would rate if he were remembered at al .
Those who know his name are split in their assessment. Some say his story was a tragedy; others suggest it was the most beautiful ending possible for a complicated man. What little I knew of Ryl en – especial y regarding his involvement in the War of Nine – repulsed me. Such cal ous disregard for life struck me as irredeemable.
However, an historian must be wil ing to delve beneath the surface features of our past. Since Ryl en’s story began alongside Kara Syung’s, I felt an obligation to expand my interviews while visiting The Lagos. Additional examination of previously classified archival data from the former Unification Guard headquarters on Earth and the data stream reservoir on Aeterna complemented my interviews.
The fol owing stories represent my interpretation of a smal portion of Ryl en Jee’s entry into manhood.
- Dr. Orson Baatch, SY 5430
1
Idiot of The Lagos
Standard Year 5362
othing rivaled Ascension, and no city on Hokkaido N celebrated it like Pinchon. Nature’s most spectacular art stopped the city every seven hundred thirty-three standard days. Ascension’s unparalleled beauty filled the untainted night sky for twelve minutes. Out here in the middle of the ocean, more than two thousand kilometers from the continent, the island city enjoyed the event’s maximum impact.
Citizens prepared for months, from the wealthy northern enclaves in the Haansu District, to the fresh air markets of Lihoni Way, to the corporate clusters of the seamasters, to the
