Bastion 2 - Chapter 42

“Do you think she’ll like it?” I asked as I polished the red plate metal once more.

“For the five-hundredth time, she’s going to be ecstatic,” Mae replied, crossing her arms as she stood beside the prosthetic. Her voice softened and she beamed up at me from the table. “Your work at the Rabbit has really paid off. It’s beautiful.”

I had recovered Woong-ji’s battle armor a week after the incident and set to work creating her prosthetic from the metal that had crushed her leg. As it turned out, the very modification to the knee joint I had suggested was the only reason she hadn’t been pinned inside the armor when Hiro Kumiho crushed it.

How he’d crushed it was another mystery to unravel. Had he gained such a powerful understanding of munje that he could affect the very fabric of reality?

Too often, the scenes from the chaotic battle replayed in my mind. When I couldn’t shut the visions down, I got to work. I melted, ripped, shaped, and mended the armor that had crushed Woong-ji’s bones into something she could use.

I pulled the machina half-leg up into my hands and rotated the ankle, then bent the toes. Yes, this would do nicely.

“Hope you’ve kept it clean,” Woong-ji said from the door of the workshop and I dropped the leg, spinning on the spot with a start. “Looks a little cleaner than before, honestly,” she remarked and ran her finger along the worktable to inspect for dust. She limped forward with her cane and her thin metal peg leg clopped down on the stone floor.

“I have, uh, something for you,” I said as nerves bounced around my stomach.

She hummed loudly as she moved objects in her workshop idly. “Liquor, I hope?”

I chuckled anxiously as I turned back to the machina leg. “No, though, maybe that would’ve been a better idea.”

“Well, out with it,” she said with playful impatience.

I pulled the leg from the table and turned. Woong-ji’s smile disappeared as she looked at the prosthetic in my hands. She sucked in a breath as she reached out, running her hand over the limb.

“Is this from Titan?” she whispered as her fingers brushed the polished red and black metal.

I nodded, then set it down and pulled up a stool for her to sit. “Let me show you how to work it.”

We unstrapped her metal peg and I showed her how to secure her new limb. I would need to make modifications to her stump equipment so she could get in and out of it easier, and more securely, but that could be another time. I reviewed the features—the ma control mechanisms—which would hopefully all be as intuitive as walking with her biological leg.

When I finished showing her how it worked and helping her with a few trial walks without her cane, she stopped and held my arms. Her brow was pinched and eyes watery as she looked up at me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, worried the prosthetic had hurt her somehow.

“I failed you,” she whispered.

I shook my head. “Your leg was crushed, ribs broken, and you were knocked unconscious by the blast. You did everything you could.”

She frowned, then nodded. “Yes. Of course.”

After a moment, her smile returned. She stomped her new foot twice, then wiggled the toes. “I knew I picked the right acolyte.”

“You’re welcome for that neural mapping,” Mae said through the speaker.

She loved getting her credit where it was due. “We were able to use pieces of the enemy’s ghost device to create a special component Mae coded using the ancient language of machina. This is what translates the zo information from your left leg into readable data to operate the prosthetic with ma.”

“Thank you.” Woong-ji’s eyes glossed with tears and she bowed deeply. “Min-hwan is waiting.”

I nodded and followed her out to the hall. I didn’t know what Min-hwan was waiting for, but I was sure I would find out. We made our way down the stairs. Woong-ji carefully held the railing tightly but after the first floor, let go and walked naturally. She looked back at me with a child-like grin that made the weeks of watching her recover in the infirmary worth keeping this a secret.

We arrived at Min-hwan’s tall double-dragon doors, and Woong-ji knocked. Sung-ki opened the door and nodded us inside. Hana, Shin-soo, Cho, Yuri, and Bo turned to look as we came through, and smiles lit their faces—most of their faces.

“What are we doing here?” Shin-soo asked with a bit of annoyance.

Sung-ki’s lip curled back. “You’re awaiting our Grandmaster.”

“I am here,” Min-hwan said behind me. I moved farther into the room to allow the man some space. He clasped his hands as we loosely fell into a semi-circle around him.

He hummed and nodded as he looked at each of us. “This matter is very sensitive. I will need a Silent Pact from each of you to proceed,” he said as he stepped up to me. He held his hand out, palm up, where a sickly green munje mist formed. “You may only speak of this information to the individuals you see here in this room—and the one we do not see,” Min-hwan said with a chuckle. “Mae, would you join us?”

A flourish of blue sparkles appeared at my shoulder, then took shape as a miniature Mae. She sat, smiled, and kicked her feet a few times before crossing her legs.

Min-hwan nodded, then looked back to me. “Place your hand on mine and confirm your silence on the information I am about to impart.”

I did as he said and put my hand on his. The green munje tickled the creases of my palm, as if trying to find a way to get inside me. “I swear silence on this matter. I will speak of it to no one except who I see here in this room.”

“Me too,” Mae said with a grin as she put her hand up.

The tickling in my palm intensified to scratching, then stabbing. I winced and tried to pull my hand away on reflex, but Min-hwan grasped it tightly. The ripping sensation continued up my arm, through my neck and into my head. I gritted my teeth and inhaled sharply as the pain throbbed in my skull. After a moment, it subsided, and I sighed with relief.

“Thank you,” he said, then moved on to the next student to do the same.

Mae gasped as she spoke only to me, “He’s put a block on the short-term memory you’re about to make. This is very interesting! It appears that you won’t be capable of recalling the details when talking to anyone other than the faces you commit to this memory. Amazing!”

‘What about ry illusions?’

“Hm, no. It would have to be the most incredible illusion to trick every one of your senses. They would have to impersonate them in manners, language, looks, everything. You know everyone in this room well, aside from Sung-ki—

‘I think I know him well enough,’ I thought with a dissatisfied grimace and looked to the instructor. Sung-ki furrowed his brow, then shifted his gaze to Min-hwan. They performed the same silence seal, and then everyone in the room was finished.

“Very good. This incident is internally being dubbed The First Incursion. There were many less fortunate citizens that lost their lives that night, and two of our own, but the Kokyu are denying all involvement. They’ve pinned the blame on a rebel group that has given the current ruling king—Hisachi Sakai—reason to be fearful.

“The rebels, Liberty Sun—or Ribatasanin their tongue—have gained significant power with the people in recent years. They aim to bring an end to the wars that the king of Kokyu has been waging with Chi-ganya—our neighbors to the north—and Solari—the kingdom beyond the cold mountains.

“Hisachi Sakai has told our king he would never jeopardize our relationship. He has his guard patrolling the streets picking up anyone wearing the Ribatasan insignia—and executing them.”

He paused, then paced.

“But we have discovered the true plot through several spymaster connections. This was an attempted coup carried out by a rogue military group that works for Dokun Yamamotto, the wansil-ne and foreign Ambassador of Kokyu. He is the clan elder of the Yamamottos, a very large, very powerful clan. This was a plot to unseat the King by civil outrage.

“The people of Kokyu would never support entering a third concurrent war, and would rise up against the King with Ribatasan. Dokun would’ve thrown in, becoming the voice, spear, and shield of the Ribatasan, and therefore the people of Kokyu.”

Min-hwan stopped and looked to each of us in turn. “We have foiled this plot and bought ourselves another year, perhaps two. Dokun will try again.”

I felt stupid for knowing nothing of politics and decided to speak up. If this was critical information for us to know, I needed to understand it. “Why does Dokun want to be king? What does he gain by rising to that office? He seems to be capable of doing quite a lot of harm from where he is, and not getting blamed for it.”

Min-hwan smirked. “Astute question, thank you, Jiyong. What he gains is a populace who is tired of their tyrant and ready to fervently back anyone who brings them peace. He gains the love and adoration of the people he will save from crisis, while implementing his own measures to control them without their knowing, all in the name of keeping the people safe.

“What he seeks to gain is the might of a kingdom of forty million capable men and women who are willing to follow him wherever he leads, until he shows his true color. Then, it will be too late. They will be trapped by his system, incapable of escape.”

Shin-soo scoffed. “So what, he’s just the worst king of Kokyu ever. How is this our problem?”

Min-hwan chuckled. “Another astute question. He is not trying to be just the worst king ever,” he quoted the words as he said them. “There are rumors that Dokun is planning some way to control our munje with powerful machina from the ancient ones. This is a dangerous claim.

“As you well know, the third-year students perform an exchange on the fifth week for the entire year. The current exchange has been returned early due to the circumstances—and a delegate has been dispatched to be present for our graduation ceremony to offer condolences and promises.”

“Dokun,” I growled the Ambassador’s name.

Min-hwan nodded. “Very good. Now, this is under the guise of mending the wound and bridging the rift between our Kingdoms, but I fear for those who played a primary role in foiling his plot,” Min-hwan said with gravitas as he glanced between us.

“Us,” Shin-soo groaned.

Min-hwan replied only with a kind smile.

“What are we going to do about it?” Hana asked, ready to get started.

Min-hwan paced again. “You are all graduating top of your class. The top twenty third-year students travel to the Kokyu for the entire year. This will put you squarely in enemy territory, where Bastion cannot protect you.

“It also puts you squarely in enemy territory under the guise of friendship and collaboration, in a prime position to gather intelligence. The king of Kokyu is allowing several Bastion Instructor escorts next year, to help us feel comfortable about the exchange.”

“You’re sending us on a mission!” Yuri said with excitement.

Min-hwan pressed a finger to his lips. He pulled it away, then said, “It is treasonous to use the exchange students for warfare. We would be executed by King Il-suk. I was notsuggesting that Bastion is charging you with a reconnaissance mission against the wansil-ne Dokun.”

I glanced to Hana. She looked back, wearing the same determined expression as me. I looked back to Min-hwan. “We understand, Grandmaster.”

He nodded. “That said, if you would like to surrender your seat in the exchange program, or not perform the role of instructor escort, you may choose to do so. We will detract enough points from your score before the end of the year to drop you out of the top twenty, and you’ll never think of this moment, or the true nature behind the attack, again.”

Min-hwan paused, then looked to me. “You may take the rest of the day to decide. Please return back here just before dinner with your decision.”

I took a deep breath at the sheer enormity of the choice before us. With the fate of our world at stake, I had the opportunity to spearhead the first effort to stop it. It wouldn’t be the only opportunity, I knew, but this could be the pivotal moment that prevents calamity.

Or, we could die failures, dishonored by our king and kingdom. They would label our family lines as traitorous, and my family would cast out of Busa-nan. They would be forced to fend for themselves in a world without community, friends, or support—in a world without me.

The determined confidence evaporated as I looked to Hana.

Could I risk sentencing my family to exile?

Could I risk sentencing them to death?