Then, every fiber of Hae-Joo's being burned with the need to get Sonmi back; the agony in his lacerated and broken hands was nothing in comparison. He forced himself past the pain and, aided by his feet and teeth, tore strips of fabric from his pants to bandage them, trying not to get blood all over himself and only partially succeeding. He found a maintenance lift for the scaffolding tower and descended; when he reached the ground, he made his way quickly, yet with practiced nonchalance, through the streets the few blocks to his flat. He was already developing a plan.
He probably looked like a savage, shirtless, streaked with blood and barefoot, with torn wrappings on his hands, wildly disheveled hair, and ripped pants that didn't cover his hipbones… but Consumers did enjoy some bizarre fashions. And Hae-Joo knew well that there was a time to run at top speed, and a time to blend in; both methods could get one safely to one's destination, but were differently appropriate depending on the situation. For all of his urgency, if he was to succeed, he had to limit attention to himself. Years in the rebellion had taught him that one could escape most notice by appearing not to have anything to hide—and indeed, only a handful of passerby gave him bewildered glances, with the vast majority paying him no attention at all.
He had lost his phaser in the fall, and he had no orison on him, nothing. But he had set things up at this flat for just such circumstances: DNA admittance for the building, elevator and flat, and a spare orison along with numerous weapons, clothes and supplies inside. As soon as he was in, he called headquarters, rapidly explained the situation and the plan he had developed, and listed exactly what he needed to have, as soon as possible. His orders were acknowledged, and he was told to stand by for confirmation. Then he was disconnected.
He knew full well he shouldn't be giving orders without consulting Apis. But, as when Yoona-939 had died and he had resolved to get Sonmi out of the diner as soon as possible, Hae-Joo was doing this, procedure be damned. However, back then, he had finalized all the preparations himself; this time he would need his comrades' help in order to have any chance of success.
The situation was even more urgent it had been then. The Enforcers wouldn't destroy her on the spot if they could help it; her behavior was so unprecedented that they would be forced to hold her for a time. By now, she had probably had the dubious honor of being the first fabricant to enter the Neo Seoul prison. Still, her time there would be brief—it was early morning now, and Hae-Joo doubted they would keep her overnight.
He also had no way of knowing how close the Enforcers were to catching up with him. They had traced the safe house, somehow pinpointed and destroyed Union's surveillance team, but this flat was under a different, much older alias than the other had been; it would probably take them time to link the two. Surely the aero Enforcer had assumed him killed in the fall. Still, some surveillance vidi, somewhere, would have caught his uncanny landing on the scaffolding after the fall from the bridge, and another would have captured his discreet walk here. Whoever or whatever monitored that vidi probably wouldn't make the connections for a little while, yet there was still a chance the Enforcers could arrive at his own door any minute.
Even more urgent than these practical concerns were emotional ones. Hae-Joo had grown closer to Sonmi in the past three days than he had thought it possible to be to anyone. Only swift action could begin to distract him from his anguish at the incredible danger and, doubtless, distress she was now in... all come about through his failure. The odds against him didn't matter, then or now; his duty had been to keep her safe, and he had failed. He would vastly prefer to die in the attempt to save her than to fail again and live.
No procedure had been discussed among the leaders for the event of the fabricant's recapture, and there was absolutely no time for discussion now. The plan he had just created and proposed was as good as any; it would be much more time-consuming to execute without Union's support, and far more likely to fail. But based on their prior failure with Yoona-939, Hae-Joo was betting that Union's leaders would be willing to risk much to recover their last hope for a free-willed fabricant; even a First Science Officer. Especially since he, acting alone, would have the best chance at success.
He unwrapped the blood-soaked bandages from his broken hands, thankful to the core that he had invested in a really good all-healer. He would need his hands whole in the coming hours. In two minutes they were sterilized, set, and sealed with new skin. The pain was already beginning to lessen, and he could expect them to be fully back to normal function in about fifteen minutes.
He received a call back from headquarters. His orders had not been challenged; he was told that he would have what he needed at the rendezvous point in half an hour. He crammed a protein pack into his mouth, chewed and swallowed, then popped a double dose of stimulant. It was all he had left in his supplies, having brought the rest over to the other flat; he hoped it would be enough for the exertions ahead, and he would certainly pay a debt to his body later. In one continuous motion he walked to the bathroom, kicked off his ruined pajama pants and stepped through the all-cleaner-drier-styler, and walked out, free of blood and hair smoothly in place again. Then he threw on some clothes and grabbed his stash of hand credits. He'd need some to get to the prison, as well as in Old Seoul later. He couldn't bring an orison past the prison scanners, though, so he left it. Finally, he took a single phaser, which he hoped he wouldn't need.
Less than ten minutes after entering, he started to leave the flat—stopped, went back for the flashlight he'd forgotten, and then left for good. As he exited, he activated the self-destruct system, which would quietly vaporize everything within. It was only a matter of time before the Enforcers would trace him, and the equipment and DNA here could only lead them to other Union members, sympathizers, and even headquarters if he didn't take precautions. It didn't matter to him to lose the place; it had never been his home, and nothing in it was irreplaceable.
The one thing he knew to be irreplaceable to him was a person, whom he had let go of and lost. But now, he was going to get her back.
He took public transport to the rendezvous point, transferring a few times to muddle his trail. At the rendezvous, he picked up the old cruiser and the bag of items he had requested, nodded to the courier, and drove off. He paused briefly in an alley to change into the subworker uniform, then took a quick but circuitous route to the high roof of an abandoned building a fair distance from the towering prison. There he parked, and waited for the call. His contact was a hacker monitoring the prison's maintenance channels; he would call Hae-Joo when some sort of delivery or maintenance call went out. The prison was enormous, with daily comings and goings of all kinds of subworkers through its utility corridors, but Hae-Joo had no way of knowing whether the next call would come in seconds or hours.
He and his colleagues had theorized parts of this prison break strategy long before, yet the great risk it posed the single agent it involved had always overwhelmed the need to save any individual for their cause in the past. This time was different, for Hae-Joo as well as his comrades, but perhaps they had different reasons.
He tried not to think about that, and forced himself to wait as calmly as he could. If he allowed anguish and impatience to overwhelm him now, he'd only be weaker at the moment Sonmi needed him to act. And whatever she was feeling now must be a thousand times worse… he tried not to think about that, either.
The smoggy grey clouds seemed close enough to the roof for him to touch; yet there were many taller buildings throughout the city, and the looming prison dwarfed them all. He let his eyes wander along the tangle of drivetubes, level upon level, vehicles flashing along them all in a constant, congested stream… except for the bottommost utility tube. Only the occasional maintenance vehicle passed by on it, each truck appearing absolutely tiny from this height.
There was no need for him to waste his focus on such things right now, so he let his eyes drift back to the smoggy sky. As the wind buffeted him, he leaned back against the cruiser. The roar of Neo Seoul, of nearly a billion souls rushing and struggling through their lives, was constantly audible, just beyond the wind. He emptied his mind and sought the silence within, saving his energy for only the most essential awareness... but even as his mind and body grew quiet, a deep anxiety remained, eating at his soul.
After almost two hours, he received the call. A plumber had been ordered, and should be approaching the prison in approximately fifteen minutes.
Hae-Joo mounted the cruiser, swiftly retraced his route along the tubes, and pulled off at a lower roof with a clear view of the bottom tube; waited. Before long, he saw a lone truck in the distance, and instinctively felt it was his man. Sure enough, as the truck came closer, he could make out the name of a plumbing subcorporation along the side.
He drove the cruiser over to intercept it. The utility drivetube was authorized only for maintenance vehicles, and he was risking an Enforcer stop; he would have no choice in that scenario but to shoot his way out, flee, and develop a new plan. But if he was quick, and the subworker cooperated… he waved frantically at the driver of the plumbing truck and caught his attention, gesturing to both their uniforms. The driver slowed, and Hae-Joo pulled close to his window.
In subspeak, he apologized profusely for inconveniencing the man on his way to a job; nonetheless, he had great need of assistance. If the man could just spare a few minutes, and follow him... the driver grinned and nodded, won over by the urgent appeal of, apparently, a fellow sub in the trade. Hae-Joo got back on the cruiser and led him to the nearest roof.
For his trouble, the man received a deft jab to the chest, knocking him gently but thoroughly unconscious. He also lost his truck, his ID-nano, and even his uniform. As Hae-Joo had hoped, his nano was spoofed. Illegal migrants were rife in the subtrades; this one's nano simply matched that of the truck sufficiently to pass maintenance entrance scans, and would not hold up to a more thorough Enforcer scan. But it was sufficient for his purposes, easy to remove and re-insert in himself, and saved him the time of hacking the truck to rig his own. Hae-Joo left the man propped on the old cruiser, dressed in the uniform he'd traded with him, with credits adding up to at least double the cost of the truck, its equipment and a more sophisticated new nano in his pocket. He even left the phaser, safely disabled, tucked in the subworker's pocket-it was sure to fetch a good price on the black market. He gave the man a precautionary shot to wipe his memory of the last hour or so before driving off. It was a much diluted version of the drug Corporations gave fabricants after their conditioning phase; the man would retain a visceral knowledge of what had occurred, but be unable to recall any of the details. It was likely unnecessary, but better that the man be incapable of telling his story to Enforcers, whether he wanted to or not. Surely the plumber would consider it to have been a very good, if confusing morning once he came to, discovered his acquisitions and made his way back home... probably to a dark little shack in Old Seoul.
Hae-Joo drove the truck to the maintenance dock of the prison, located at its absolute bottom. On the way, he carefully disabled his sony; inside, they were scanned intrusively, but Hae-Joo's was specially modified with a crucial feature that Union's hackers had developed: an off switch.
The prison's security system, already expecting the plumber's truck with its nano and a driver that matched, scanned and admitted him with no problems. Hae-Joo parked in the bowels of the underground tunnels, carefully noted the points of vidi surveillance, and ducked into the back of the truck. Over the maintenance uniform, he quickly donned one of the very few, extremely precious intact Enforcer uniforms that Union had acquired over the years, complete with helmet and blaster.
Such a uniform was precious not only for disguise; the Enforcer belt would also enable him to cross the scanners between the maintenance corridors and the main part of the prison, while the blaster emitted a similar signal that allowed it to be carried where all other weapons set off alarms... all other recognizable weapons, that is. That did not include the sticky bombs in his bag, which he'd invented for Union himself.
Hae-Joo took a moment to get accustomed to the feel of the blaster, placing it on the magnetic belt and drawing it a few times; every millisecond would count later. It felt curiously heavy in his grip... for a moment he peered at it in his hand, and wondered: did it not resemble another of those archaic metal weapons, from some vision in the night...?
He blinked and saw only the blaster, a ruthless but necessary tool that he knew he would wield effectively at the proper time. He secured it to the uniform's belt once more, then swiftly and silently slipped out of the truck and into the dim tunnels. He made his way unseen to the maintenance elevator, up to the ground level, through the utility corridors; past an Enforcer scanner, and finally into the prison's main tunnels, lined with cells.
The cells were indistinguishable from one another, at least from the outside. He had no way to see into them without opening the sealed view slits, which would definitely arouse attention. He only knew that wherever she was, she was being held alone, as solitary confinement was the rule in the Neo Seoul prison. Less severe offenders were allowed a few comforts: a toilet, perhaps a sleeping mat; orisons loaded with Unanimic propaganda. He doubted she would be shown such lenience.
Where would they keep her? She could be anywhere. There was nothing to do but make his way upward, keeping his eyes and ears open for some sign of her. He slowly ascended, observing the halls, using the empty stairways to attract less attention; occasionally, he posted himself in the hall, as if on guard, to rest. In this way, he gradually moved all the way up the prison's five hundred levels... and, eventually, turned back around and came down again.
He felt the hours, the limited time she had left, slipping by, but with brutal self-control made himself stay calm. There would be much discussion about her, the unprecedented runaway fabricant, on the Boards and elsewhere today. They would argue over what to do with her; many would want to study her. This bought her some time. Still, the most powerful forces on the Board would never allow her to live another day; they simply could not permit a fabricant on an inexorable course toward free will to continue breathing.
Yet Hae-Joo would not let himself become desperate; something, somehow, would lead him to her in time. He had to believe it, for the alternative was too terrible even to consider.
There were occasional calls over a loudspeaker, summoning apparent reserve Enforcers to immediate tasks; frequently, these were escort duties. Hae-Joo saw several psycho-geneticists and eugenicists walk by, escorted by groups of three Enforcers each. He also saw a number of prisoners being escorted in and out of cells and down the corridors; again, rhey were all escorted by three Enforcers each. A few prisoners looked terrified, others lifeless; several were appallingly filthy. Hae-Joo deeply pitied them, but the cruel truth was that he could help only one prisoner today.
Then he noticed a swarthy young male prisoner walking by, escorted by four Enforcers. The young man was teetering unsteadily, as if he hadn't walked for weeks, and he slumped against the wall for a moment. Hae-Joo caught a glimpse of his face: gaunt but fine features, eyes burning as if with fever... or, perhaps, defiance.
The Enforcers prodded him on. "Move along, deviant, it'll be over for you soon enough," jeered one of them. And Hae-Joo realized the young man was on his way to be euthanized.
So, the final walk merited one the honor of four Enforcers as escort; he swiftly surmised why. In all likelihood, the extra Enforcer delivered the body to the incinerator on the lower level himself, to ensure no secret messages traveled via corpse. Years ago, several of the condemned had managed to smuggle information to Union through the cooperation of a few sympathetic incinerator subworkers, until those workers inexplicably disappeared. The channel had since remained closed, and now he knew why.
His heart went out to the young man about to die. Yet he couldn't save him as well as Sonmi, and he would not be leaving this place without her. He would either succeed, or be dead soon himself, along with her... inexplicably, the familiar and beautiful Cloud Atlas theme echoed in his mind as he watched the condemned youth stagger to the end of the corridor and disappear around the corner.
Morbidly, Hae-Joo wondered if the authorities would deign to sentence Sonmi to euthanasia, too. If they did, they would in a sense be acknowledging her as a human being; they might have to, if they wanted her killed in these facilities. There were no tools for xcisement here, with their exclusively fabricant associations; pure-bloods that crossed Unanimity met their end by smooth lethal injection, their bodies afforded the relative dignity of cremation. The snowflake-like ashes that occasionally floated along the prison's heights bore testament to their passing.
No, Enforcers certainly never bothered bringing wayward fabricants to the prison; sometimes, such fabricants had their collars detonated by Seers on the spot, like Yoona-939. But that was viewed by the genomics industry as… wasteful, as well as unpleasant for any surrounding pure-bloods, and so avoided if possible. More often, those very rare fabricants who disobeyed were transported to the same ships that received their singing, joyful brethren with twelve stars on their collars. Indeed, the very idea of a fabricant going to prison was laughable according to Unanimic dogma... but in Sonmi's unprecedented case, it was necessary.
Yet it would be no great task to send her to a processing ship. Or they could simply destroy her here, and call it xcisement anyway. The dogma of Unanimity made heavy use of terms denoting superiority and inferiority: as a fabricant deemed less than human, the ending of Sonmi's life would thus be known as xcisement, rather than the murder it truly was. Really, Unanimity's practice of killing the purebloods it deemed unworthy to live, otherwise known as euthanasia, was no better.
Perhaps they would send an Archivist to her. They often did for the more unusual criminals and deviants, in order to record their personal history and words for further study. As swiftly as they needed Sonmi destroyed, the various powers would also be fascinated with her; but of course, no Archivist had ever spoken to a fabricant before. Even that was probably too much to expect of them.
Hae-Joo directed his mind outward, away from such dark reflections. Most of the Enforcers he passed were all business, just as he was acting himself. Some had more relaxed postures and were chatting with one another; on their way to or from breaks, or perhaps just bored. A few were laughing about some stupid thing. They all sounded arrogant when they spoke, and as indistinguishable as the uniforms and tinted helmets made them look. The helmets were ridiculous, when you thought about it. Who would willingly choose to mask their individuality, to serve as a faceless tool of authority? Yet ever since Unanimity had risen to power, Enforcers had worn such helmets. And they'd never had any shortage in their ranks; it was a highly desirable profession among Consumers, as it came with many privileges. At least the facelessness and anonymity of being an Enforcer served Hae-Joo well now.
He wondered if Sonmi would have a personal visit from any of Unanimity's Boardmen before they decided what to do with her. If one of those Corporate parasites showed up in the building, and he trailed them, they could very well lead him right to her.
He was finally in luck when a certain call over the loudspeaker pricked his ears. "Escort immediately, prestige dock 66 to Level 283, Cell 5."
Something called a prestige dock just had to be for Boardmen. Hae-Joo quickly took the lift to 283, positioned himself next to the elevator, and waited for the prestigious visitor and escort to arrive. After a few minutes the lift opened, and Boardman Mephi himself stepped out.
Hae-Joo remained rigidly at attention, but his blood froze. Mephi was the most powerful Boardman in Nea So Copros; he had served as one of six on the Unanimic World Board for ten years running. Hae-Joo had seen him many times, both on vidi and in person, though never from quite this close... that arrogant smirk and those cold, ruthless eyes never failed to chill his soul. But neither Mephi nor the escort looked twice at him, walking straight by toward a cell on the far end of the corridor. Hae-Joo's heart began to pound; Sonmi had to be in there.
And at that moment, his deepest fear fell away: that he'd be too late, and she would die before he could find her. It had been so ghastly, he'd barely allowed himself to feel it… but she was alive. Now, it was all he could do not to tear over, shoot them all, and grab her then and there.
However, assassinating Boardman Mephi would exponentially complicate their escape, to say the least. It was already quite risky enough. No, he would wait until the Enforcers returned without the Boardman, as they would eventually; Mephi would get his due in another time and place.
Mephi had begun to speak, and Hae-Joo strained to hear what he was saying. With his sony off, he could not magnify Mephi's words to his aural nerve, much as he wished to. Still, he caught a few of them.
"—what should be done with you." That low, contemptuous drawl always made his skin crawl. "Corpocrats… psychogenomicists… vivisection…" Hae-Joo shuddered inside; That was a fate even worse than xcisement. Then Mephi stepped further into the cell, and he couldn't make out any more words for the next minute, just a low and menacing murmur.
Glad as he was that she was alive, it tormented him to know that was hearing such things; that she had been shut in that cold, grey cell for hours, all alone, with neither color nor sound to distract her, thinking herself already condemned... he wondered if they'd even let her keep her clothes. The wearing of pure-blood clothes alone was an xcisable offense; surely they had taken away her pink-flowered robe, which she had liked so much. The thought of it made his heart ache.
He heard Mephi moving toward the cell door, and made out his voice again. "Inform the Archivist. Prepare for xcisement."
An Enforcer acknowledged the order. So Mephi himself had made the decision: they wouldn't call it euthanasia, but they wanted an Archivist to record her thoughts and feelings. This was, paradoxically, a small victory, as well as a relief; when the escort returned, Hae-Joo would finally have his chance to act.
Then, to his great surprise, Hae-Joo heard Sonmi's voice. "Sir," she called, forcing Mephi to halt mid-exit. Hae-Joo couldn't quite distinguish what she said next, but it was definitely a question… clear, polite, and unafraid.
His heart swelled at her nerve. She'd barely asked him any questions, yet there she was, querying one of the most powerful men in Unanimity as if it were the most normal thing in the world for her. He was so busy marveling hat he didn't catch Mephi's curt response, either, even with Mephi so near the door. But it didn't matter. Not only was she alive and close by, but she was also braver than he'd ever hoped she'd be… and she'd be with him again soon.
Hae-Joo watched Mephi make his way back to the elevator; he looked rather disgruntled. I bet you are, faced with a fabricant strong enough to question you... and thanks for showing me where to find her, Mephi. He couldn't keep a slight smirk from his face, which, fortunately, was concealed by his helmet, as Mephi and the escort walked past him to the elevator and descended.
Nothing stirred on the level for the next two hours. Hae-Joo kept himself at attention, not knowing exactly when the escort would come. There probably would not be a call for them this time, and he had to be ready at any moment. He gathered his focus while he waited, envisioning all the possible scenarios that could unfold in the fight soon to follow, and how he could turn each one to his advantage.
Finally, the elevator opened once again. Three Enforcers walked out, the number he had expected. Good. It would allow him to delay his assault until the most opportune moment. He waited to ensure that the lead was passing all the other cells and headed for Sonmi's; then, he silently crossed the hall and fell in line after them. They halted in front of the cell, noticed him, and looked at him curiously—if one could look curious in a helmet that didn't show one's face. But he had already come up with an explanation for them during the past two hours.
"Mephi said I should join you when you came. He said if she wants to act like a pure-blood deviant, she can have four of us, just like them."
These might actually be the same Enforcers who had brought Mephi up, but it worked as a joke either way. They all shared a good guffaw, himself included, while his stomach turned in disgust. But he knew that very soon they, and not she, would meet their end, through him.
The lead opened the cell and stopped just outside the door, while the next one stopped across from him. Then the one with the cuffs went in; Hae-Joo followed, and stood just inside the door. Then he was looking down at Sonmi, seated against the wall, her legs clasped before her.
She was clad only in the short white night dress she'd had on under her robe when he last saw her; it was too much like the old fabricant sleep shift for his comfort. Her face was pale and lifeless, staring straight ahead, not even acknowledging the Enforcers. However brave she'd been with Mephi, she didn't look good now… and yet, she rose steadily to her feet.
He burned to blast the escort and reveal himself right then and there, if only to bring life back into her face, but he knew he must wait just a little longer. His position wasn't ideal with the two Enforcers behind him; as they filed away down the corridor, those two would have their backs to him. Then he would strike.
The one on his left grabbed Sonmi's wrists and roughly cuffed them as she stood, quiet and still. "Move it!" the Enforcer said, giving her a hard shove toward the door of the cell. She winced and stumbled, as Hae-Joo controlled his rage. You'll be first.
She regained her footing and walked slowly forward; they reversed direction and filed out around her. The cell door slammed shut behind them. Hae-Joo got his hand on his blaster… his finger on the trigger. Now.
He raised his arm and blasted the Enforcer to his right, who had pushed her, and never knew what hit him. The Enforcer in front of him turned, grabbing for his weapon. Hae-Joo blasted him before he could raise it. Sonmi turned this way and that, scared and bewildered, having barely glimpsed the blasts, the two Enforcers falling; she faced him, but of course she could not recognize him. Hae-Joo and the remaining Enforcer faced off, blasters pointed at each other, her head in between.
He'd anticipated this, while the Enforcer hadn't. He reached for Sonmi's head, and she began to drop instinctively even before he touched her. He ducked and spun, pushing her behind him as the Enforcer shot at the space where her head had been; they began to grapple fiercely. But this one was no slouch, and shot after shot burst near their bodies as they barely kept each other's blasters away.
The Enforcer managed to pin his arms. Hae-Joo head-butted him, but the hard helmets only smacked off each other. So much for that. The Enforcer twisted him toward the wall, his hand choking Hae-Joo's throat, kicking the back of his leg and forcing him to one knee… slowly pushed his blaster toward his head…
But Hae-Joo had considered how he might use the wall. He strained, unable to breathe, yet forced the blaster away from his head, his own downward, into position… there. He fired at the wall. The rebound of the blast threw the Enforcer backward as Hae-Joo whipped around and shot him, and it was over.
He turned to Sonmi. She was panting, wide-eyed with fear and confusion. She couldn't know who had won, who he was, or what was going on. He quickly took the magnetic wand from his uniform, and she flinched as he pointed it at her. With a click he released her cuffs, and they fell to the floor with a clatter. Relief filled her eyes. Then, he took off the helmet.
Though the hours since their separation had been anguish for them both, all of it felt washed away in the radiance of her shocked, ecstatic gaze. With a cry, she rushed over and threw her arms around him. "I won't let you go again," he whispered as he crushed her to him, her joyful sobs in his ear.
He had to end their embrace much too soon, shove the helmet back on and rush her to the next utility lift. Still, he relished having his arm around her, the way she clung to him... they descended to the maintenance parking, and he got them into the plumber's truck unseen. He swiftly peeled off the Enforcer uniform and hid it in the back of the truck, then put the blaster in the bag next to him. Finally, he tucked Sonmi into a corner; unable to help himself, he cupped her face in his hand, sharing her sweet gaze for another instant.
He hated to release her, and saw her grow fearful as soon as he did. Or was she simply reflecting his own returning anxiety? For he knew that they weren't safe yet; not by far.
He flew them up through the bowels of the parking levels to the exit of the maintenance dock, and held his breath as the truck was scanned. And as he had suspected, the prison security system did not scan for life forms, only ID-nanos... which fabricants did not have. The massive, jaw-like gates opened, and his heart pounded as he slowly drove out of the prison, gradually increased his speed outside… but in less than half a minute, he heard Enforcer sirens.
"Shit." Hae-Joo rarely cursed aloud, but this was one of those moments.
So the escape had been discovered. But the search must still be focused within the prison, and they hadn't yet made the connection to the plumbing truck; the Enforcers weren't opening fire, just ordering him to prepare for boarding. There was that, at least.
"What are you going to do?" Sonmi whispered, sounding desperately interested in the answer.
"Stay calm, stay calm," he muttered, as much to himself as to Sonmi as he slowed down to land on the nearest building.
He smiled and nodded at the Enforcers through the window, hand to his temple as if he were using a subtranslator, and tried to look as stupid as possible. He'd hoped to hell they could avoid such a stop, but for this, too, he had planned. He must maintain cover, make them think that he was just another poor, cowed sub, or they'd blast the truck out of the sky; his only chance was to keep them off guard until he could somehow get the jump on them. There were four on cruisers, two aeros… shit. He had the blaster and sticky bombs in his bag, but there was no way to grab them, let alone use them yet… he would have only his body and his wits to begin with. The next few minutes would test him to his limit.
As he landed, one of the two aeros veered away back to the prison, apparently deeming a single aero and four cruiser Enforcers more than enough to handle some idiot in a plumbing truck. It was a start.
He began jabbering subspeak from a distant province as soon as he stepped out of the driver's door, babbling over their Consumer as though he didn't understand. He let his upraised hands shake as if with nervousness—it wasn't much of a stretch. But in truth, a highly-charged adrenaline was gathering within him, and his hands only shook because he wanted them to.
The Enforcers were irritated. They shoved him roughly against the side of the truck for a scan as he apparently staggered and flailed in fear, still babbling noisily. One of them took a moment to disdain his "migrant monkey-talk." He could tell he had already been dismissed as a threat in their minds. Good. He had made sure that they positioned him where their scan would likely pick up Sonmi as well... counter-intuitive, yet it could prove crucial. He'd had his Unanimic ID-nano removed long ago, a significant offense; but thanks to his performance, and the cheaply spoofed replacement, they had him pegged him as an illegal migrant worker, rather than a dissident.
One of them jammed Hae-Joo's hands together for cuffs, and he protested theatrically as he prepared for a swift drop and upward strike to grab the blaster at his neck. His position was less than ideal, with a second blaster pointed at him and two other Enforcers at his back, but he was not going to let them cuff him, whatever else happened… and then, his deliberate staggering paid off. The scan picked up a second life form in the truck, and two of the four Enforcers moved off to look inside, leaving his hands free.
He let his hands drift slowly back up to either side of him, and glanced back to note the exact positions of the remaining Enforcers; this would save him fractions of a second. They didn't even care that he was moving, frightened, weak sub that he was. Their attention would be briefly diverted when they found her. Keep up the act—he let his babbling get hysterical. Surely she could hear him. She must be terrified. They would find her in a second, but they were not taking her again.
"It's her!" an Enforcer exclaimed from the truck. The two behind Hae-Joo twitched in surprise.
"It'll be okay, huh?" he yelled to Sonmi, his suddenly perfect Consumer distracting the Enforcers further. It was time.
With the speed nature had gifted him, and countless hours of training had sharpened to a blinding force, Hae-Joo turned around and snatched the blaster out of the near Enforcer's hands while bending out of the aim of the far one. He shot the far one at the same instant his target fired; the far one was still aimed where Hae-Joo had been a fraction of a second ago, and hit the near one instead. Two down, and he now held a blaster.
A muffled "What?!" inside the truck, and rapid footsteps behind it, indicated the positions of the other two Enforcers. Hae-Joo dodged the shot of the running Enforcer and took the swiftest solution: vaulting onto his shoulders, he forced his opponent's blaster into the Enforcer's own body at the precise, predictable moment it fired again. He flipped forward as the Enforcer's body flew backward, rolled to his feet and dashed to the front door of the truck; a shot from the last Enforcer, who'd just left the truck, flashed past him. He could hear the hum of the aero approaching, and knew he had seconds to bring it down, if that.
He grabbed his bag of bombs from the driver's seat and kicked the opposite door open, glancing back at Sonmi—still safe—then climbed and rolled to the roof of the truck. Dropping the blaster, he grabbed a bomb, swung it over his head, and launched it at the aero's windshield. He glimpsed Sonmi jumping out the door as a shot from the last Enforcer flashed through the truck. The bomb stuck to the windshield, and the panicked pilot tried to veer the aero away, its fate already sealed.
The blaster had fallen off the top of the truck. Shit. The last Enforcer was aiming for Sonmi; there was no time to open his bag, so he snatched it as he twisted himself off the truck to land in front of her. He saw the cruiser between him and the Enforcer as he landed, and knew what to do. As the distracted Enforcer missed his shot, Hae-Joo twisted across the cruiser, jamming the ignition to maximum. It roared off the roof, ramming the Enforcer with it, just as the aero exploded in flames.
Catching his breath, Hae-Joo turned back to Sonmi to make sure she was all right.
Her stunned face glowed in the inferno. "Who are you?"
Well she might ask, now that she had seen what he was capable of. It was time to tell her the truth.
"Commander Hae-Joo Chang," he said with a slight bow, then a moment's hesitation—"First Science Officer of the Union rebellion."
She'd read about Union; perhaps she had suspected he was involved, but she had never asked him about it. Now, however, her questions wouldn't stop. "Why are you doing this?"
Again she wore that serious, perplexed look, as if trying to solve some riddle of physics in her head; it seemed like ages since he'd seen it, and it filled him with affection. But this was not a moment when he could go into depth, nor was he sure if he could answer her question fully, even to himself. Yet he had to say something.
"Because I believe you have the power to change this world," he said, gazing at her.
It was a true, if not complete answer, and they really didn't have time for anything more. He pulled her toward another vacant cruiser, helped her mount, and jumped on in front of her, putting the blaster from his bag within easy reach. "Lean forward, into me," he instructed. She did, and he wrapped her arms around his torso. "Hold on as tightly as you can." As they dove off the roof, he could hear more Enforcers on their way.
After some incredibly reckless driving, streaking between oncoming lanes of traffic at top speed, dodging phasers, dropping from one drivetube to the next to try to shake their pursuers, they had another close call; an aero rose meters before them, cutting them off. There was nothing for Hae-Joo to do but grab the blaster and fly straight toward it, off the drivetube, shooting like mad at the aero's windshield; insane, yet effective, as it splintered in huge cracks, blocking the Enforcer's visuals as they plummeted away.
He managed to put some distance between them and their pursuers with the subsequent long, nerve-wracking fall through one crowded traffic drivetube after another, Sonmi's arms crushing his chest, his own muscles straining to hold them on the cruiser… with a jolt, they landed on the empty maintenance drivetube far below, and tore toward Neo Seoul's outskirts. But soon four aeros homed in on them, no longer bothering with phasers and now firing missiles at their tiny, weaving target. Massive explosions burst out left and right, an apartment building, a bridge; horrible awareness of the innocents being blasted away with such excessive force flashed through Hae-Joo's mind. But he had to save Sonmi, and get them to the damway.
They flew in just as missiles exploded around the entrance. He continued at full speed for a few seconds, then brought the cruiser to a swift stop. He knew Sonmi was wondering what on earth he was up to when he dismounted. Her hands clutched frantically at him as he scanned the tunnel's entrance.
"Come on," he murmured, helping her off. He heard the cruisers entering the tunnel, quickly opened his bag and grabbed a bomb. It was in his hands, and now he could see the approaching lights.
"What are you doing?" Sonmi asked him, practically hopping up and down with anxiety.
Hae-Joo looked at her. It was an excellent question, but this was no time for an answer. He had outlined the procedure about to follow for his comrades, in the event they were ever chased into the tunnel en route to Old Seoul and had his sticky bombs. However, it had never yet been tested… and it could well end up being a one-time procedure.
Nothing to do but try. He looked forward, swung the bomb, and threw it down the tunnel as hard as he could.
He faintly saw it hurtling past the cruisers, then lost it. But the static field that made it sticky should cause it to rebound off the drivetube at the bottom of the tunnel and plant itself on the nearest surface: the ceiling or walls. Where exactly mattered far less than the distance he'd manage to throw it, as they needed all they could get.
He swiftly pulled open the nearest sewer cover. One, two… there it went.
"Come on, come on, quick!" He urged her down the ladder as a column of water roared toward them, engulfing their pursuers. She gasped and hurried down, no longer needing an explanation. He grabbed his bag, climbed in after her, and slammed the cover shut just before the waters rushed over it.