“Careful. Who could it be?”
“I only have four codes. Yours and three others. They’re safe, Kai.”
“If you say so.”
He pressed the receptor and gasped when the holographic image of his cal er rose six inches above his wrist.
“Mother?”
Muna-Lin Jee, al five feet of her dressed in a permanent uniform of black and blue, crossed her arms over her chest.
“Ryl en, I request a visit. One hour.”
“Mother, how are you able to cal my bicomm?”
“Your brother gifted me a device. He thought I might take some pleasure. Also, I have your gene code.”
The bicomms spread in popularity after the new tech arrived on Hokkaido two years earlier, but Green Sun approached it with caution, fearing hackers might override the device’s delicate genetic linking protocol. If it became an effective tracking tool, the silent army might find itself in unfortunate crosshairs.
“This is not a good day, Mother. What is so important for …”
“Is he there with you?” She asked. “Kai Durin?”
Ryllen muted the receptor and faced Kai.
“I never told her about you.”
“So, she snoops, just like everybody’s mother. Say hel o for me.”
He unmuted. “Kai says he is honored to meet you. He hopes one day to share a table.”
“No, he does not. Ryllen, I know who he is and what he does. I also know what you do. We must talk.”
“Why? I’ve done fine for myself the past seven months, and you never showed an interest. Why meet with you now?”
“Because I have asked nothing else of you. We wil talk. You wil leave. And you wil go back to him.”
“What about the others? Wil they be …?”
“No. Your sisters and brother wil not be here. They have jobs.”
Kai looked away. “Cold.”
“Tell me this wil change my life, Mother, or I won’t see you.”
She nodded with certainty. “Every question you ever asked, I intend to answer. But only today, and only in one hour. Goodbye.”
Muna-Lin broke the connection. Her hologram disappeared.
“Wel ?” Kai asked.
“Not an hour after I step off the ship. It’s no coincidence.”
“You might be right, but I think you’d best see her, RJ.”
“I don’t care what she says, Kai. I won’t go back. I promise.”
“Only promise what you’re sure you’l keep. She’s your mother.”
Ryllen threw back the covers and reached for his pants.
“No, Kai. She’s not.”
Muna-Lin lived less than a kilometer away in one of the island’s largest residential high-rises. Fifth level. Family suite.
Ryllen hated this building almost as much as the people. From day one, after the family left its Haansu mansion in shame and moved here with heads fal en and eyes shaded, Muna-Lin insisted their neighbors would come around to acceptance. What was more foolish? He wondered. Muna-Lin’s blind faith in community or Ryllen’s assumption his family wouldn’t hold him responsible for Father’s collapse and death?
As promised, his adoptive siblings were not home. He didn’t want a rematch of their last encounter. The vulgarities. The accusations.
He found Muna-Lin waiting for him on the balcony.
She sat on a pil ow, her legs crossed, at the far end of a low table sculpted from the colossal trunk of an ancient shingo tree. She bowed her head in meditation. In front of her, a ful cup of tea rested upon a saucer. At opposite end, a sky-blue pil ow awaited Ryllen; on the table, a silver plate with his favorite treat and a cup of tea beckoned.
“Why am I here?” He asked, but her eyes remained shaded.
“Sit. Eat.”
As much as he wanted quick resolution, Ryl en fel for his mother’s predictable trap. The silver plate featured a Maylish braid, which was a knotted ring blending succulent ocean strips from the six-armed F’heldabeast, drifting sea cabbage, and yellow crab.
Inside the braid, a dipping bowl featured a mango-pepper chutney.
Ryllen held this culinary wonder above al others. Muna Lin knew his weakness.
He took a seat but hesitated to tear apart the braid.
“Is this her recipe?” He asked.
“Honorable Mother prided herself on each braid. I watched her as a child, learning how she balanced the flavors by twisting strands through her fingers like an artisan. She might spend an entire morning spinning braids for the family. I have done my best to
replicate her treasure. I know how much you enjoyed it, Ryllen.”
Fire raced through his chest. “And how much I loved her.”
“She never judged.”
With that, Muna Lin faced her adoptive son. “Eat.”
He grabbed the braid and muttered. “For Honorable Gran.”
He tore the braid into segments and dipped into the chutney. It was as delicious as anything that ever crossed his lips. Sweet and buttery, mel ow and chewy. Muna Lin sipped tea and watched in silence, which might have unnerved Ryl en were he not filing away this taste to be remembered for years.
“Satisfied?” He asked when finished. “I’l never eat better.”
“That wil depend.”
“On what?”
“Whether you squeeze out a long, productive life.”
He washed down the braid with half his tea.
“Go on, Mother. Explain.”
“Green Sun wil be your end.”
He twitched, but not enough to be noticed.
“What’s Green Sun, Mother?”
She sighed. “I assumed you would deny the connection. My people tel me it is considered a betrayal to openly admit affiliation. And yet, they seem
