He had saved them from fire and flood. But now they were, quite literally, in shit.
As he descended the last wrung of the ladder to splash down next to Sonmi, he could hear her retching in the darkness. He found her and put his arms around her, steadying her until the dry heaves passed. Finding his flashlight, he turned it on and tried to reassure her.
"It'll be all right, Sonmi. I know the way through here to Old Seoul. We can hide there, it's—it's my home. I'll be with you the whole way." She looked back at him, shaking with nausea, but nodded bravely. He put his arm around her again, and off they sloshed, side by side.
Despite the circumstances, it was an immense relief not to have to worry about immediate pursuit. With the tunnel flooded, the next available sewer access gave them a good head start on the Enforcers; but that was only if they knew their way readily through the passages, and chose to brave the foulness at all, both of which Hae-Joo highly doubted. They would likely be swarming through the old city when they got out, but he knew how to melt into the crowds in the slums. So for now they were alone, and safe. Sonmi seemed to sense this too as she clung to his arm, moving quickly and without complaint.
When they finally emerged in Old Seoul, passer-by stared, giving them a wide berth. But in all honesty, they were not nearly as shocking in their current state here in the old city as they might be elsewhere.
First, they needed new clothes; not only was what they had on beyond the ability of an all-cleaner to salvage, it made them too recognizable. Within a couple minutes, they were at a clothing stall in the street market. The subvendor watched the filthy credits drop onto his little table with barely a blink. He silently went about fetching the items Hae-Joo requested, even helpfully folding each set of clothes into an old bag.
Hae-Joo dropped him a bunch more credits. "Thank you for your assistance, and for forgetting you ever saw us." The vendor nodded, his eyes lingering curiously on Sonmi as they left.
At last, they were headed to the nearest washhouse. Thank Humanity. How good it would feel to wash up and put on new clothes… he even found himself looking forward to seeing Sonmi in that pretty purple tunic he'd seen her gazing at, which he had made sure the vendor picked…
Oh, Chang. Is that all you can think of right now? But he couldn't really chide himself. They were both wretchedly filthy and exhausted from recent ordeals; yet they were also relatively safe, and would soon be clean, and she was with him again, and damned if he would deny either her or himself pleasure in a bit of beauty now.
He found them cabins side by side and gave Sonmi her bag of clothes. "I'll be next door, or waiting just outside. Take your time." She nodded, looking as desperately eager as he was.
After closing her door, he went into his cabin and lost no time in stripping. He dumped the maintenance uniform straight into the disposal bin; emptied his bag, and threw it in after. The old, beat-up all-cleaner gave him doubts, but in the end it proved able to remove every last trace of filth from his person after three cycles on the highest setting. He did four just to be safe. There was also hot water for further, psychological cleansing, so he gave in and relished a quick shower, even though it wasn't strictly necessary. After a jolt under the all-drier, he dressed, putting his carefully cleaned blaster, flashlight, and two remaining bombs into the jacket pockets, hoping very much that he wouldn't need them for at least the rest of the evening.
As he came out, he glimpsed Sonmi's face through the blurred window of her cabin. Her eyes were closed, her face turned upward with a blissful expression as the water streamed over her—he swiftly walked off a few meters, feeling warm all over.
But his tired brain had far more grave things to occupy itself. It was time for him to make contact with Union. He had to coordinate a safe house and, far more importantly, introduce Sonmi to General Apis; the realization that the time was at hand for Sonmi to learn of their plan was like an immense stone in his stomach.
He hadn't allowed himself to think of it before now, and his protectiveness toward her, by now nearly instinctive, rose. Could she even handle such shocking knowledge, let alone make the choice they hoped she would?
But she had learned and changed so much; she was no longer the trembling diner server he had first rescued, so subservient that any choice at all risked triggering severe trauma. And what was more, they were running out of time.
For a moment he considered it all as a calculating, detached Union commander. Sonmi was now not only the first ascending fabricant, and the first fabricant to have escaped her place of work: whether they called her one or not, she was now also the first human being to escape the Neo Seoul prison. The Enforcers would never stop looking for her, and their efforts to find her would only increase. It would be easy enough for them to hide in the old city for a few days, but as the Enforcer patrols continued to come up empty, the authorities were sure to employ sophisticated DNA sniffers... and then even more drastic methods. They would raze the slums, if it came to it. Sonmi needed to learn the complete story now, while she still had a choice to make, before they found her again, precluding further choice for her forever.
But it was impossible for him to think of Sonmi in a detached way; it had never been possible, really. And suddenly, the truth almost undid him: that their triumphant, daring, and exhausting escape, and his relief at having her next to him again, were inseparably linked to ever-increasing danger for her, and to Union's heavy purpose for her. It seemed too harsh to be borne.
Yet this was their path, and he had to push onward with her. Whatever the future held, there was no turning back now.
Soon Sonmi emerged, looking reborn; in the simple, one-shoulder purple silk tunic with embroidered border, she was the loveliest he had seen her yet. For a moment he forgot everything else and simply stared at her. She lowered her eyes shyly at first; then, when he couldn't tear his away, she slowly raised them to meet his again, smiling hesitantly... a smile so beautiful, he could only share it.
But practical concerns soon returned. They would have to be careful on the streets, even beyond their fugitive status. She just might be overlooked as a fabricant at first glance from the average pure-blood now, but there were plenty of stolen and repurposed models in the old city, and sharp-eyed black market dealers would be neither fooled by her appearance nor hesitant to grab her if they saw an opportunity. Frankly, pure-blood females needed to be almost as cautious around here. The predators usually targeted the prettiest, as well as the innocent; she was both.
He had bought a dark shawl for her to wear over the tunic, and he carefully put it around her. But it slipped stylishly, showing off her slim, delicate shoulder… and he found himself, guiltily, liking it all the more for it. Well, a shawl wouldn't keep her safe; only his constant physical contact and vigilance could. It was time for them to be on their way.
"Sonmi, my leader would very much like to talk to you," he said quietly. "If you are willing."
Even now that he himself had surrendered to the inevitability of what was ahead, he could not just force her to go along. But she had no reason to be unwilling; she still did not know the gravity of her situation. If she did, she might well run away and hide right now. And yet the whole point behind him taking her to Apis was for her to finally know… only then could she want to hide...
Fatigue was catching up with him, and his mind was going around in circles, building paradoxes and contradicting itself. Sonmi looked anxious, but as she gazed at him, she seemed more focused on his conflicted state than what he had actually said.
"I don't understand why he would want to talk to me," she said, frowning. "Or what you told me earlier. How can I change the world, Hae-Joo?"
In retrospect, seeing how they had barely managed to get away from the Enforcers, he himself didn't understand why he had made such a confession at that moment… although he hadn't told her everything he felt about her. "It would be best if he explained that to you at our headquarters," he murmured. "I can't tell you here; it's not safe, nor is it my place."
He could no longer bear her gaze, so perplexed and worried, and he lowered his eyes. They fell on her delicate hands, which were clasped tightly together... it made him think of her kino, long gone now. He gently took her hands in his; but whether it was for her sake or his own, he couldn't have said.
For a few seconds he just gazed at those slender hands, stroking them lightly; felt her slim fingers tentatively grip his back. He heard her soft voice again. "I will go see him, if you think it would be best."
He looked at her again. He could see her wondering what it was he wouldn't tell her; what, he now realized, he was afraid for her to learn. And he knew that she could see that he was afraid. Still, she trusted him, in spite of it all.
"After you see him, we'll go someplace safe and rest," he promised them both.
He made the quick call to headquarters that they had gotten through and were on their way. Then he took her arm, and, kicking his weary brain back to hyper-awareness for Enforcers, unsavory types and anything else, led her through the old city.
He could feel her astonishment as she took in, or perhaps more accurately, was assaulted by a host of new sensations. A cacophony of sound: rapid, rough subspeak, blaring audi-ads, hawkers, pop-beats, street musicians… a scent bouquet of cooking odors, pleasure-fumes, waste, and the bodies of subs who couldn't afford all-cleaners, many not even running water… a visual kaleidoscope of merchandise stalls, bizarre delicacies, flashing signs, filth mingled with gaudiness, building structures improvised, in decay or on the verge of collapse… and a never-ending crush of passers-by: curious, miserable, aggressive, oblivious, and everything in between. Imagining how it must all seem in her perception reminded him of his own first time in the slums.
He spotted an approaching Enforcer patrol and swiftly moved his body between them and Sonmi, adopting a casual pose of contemplating some slabs of lizard meat for sale as he gripped her arm tightly, tensed for more drastic action. A second later she, too, caught sight of the patrol, and he felt her stiffen with terror. But she kept outwardly calm, standing quietly next to him as the Enforcers drew close…
Thankfully, they strode by obliviously, taking them for just another pair of subs shopping the market. Hae-Joo scanned the crowd to be sure there were no more for the moment, then drew her along, willing his heartbeat to slow. "Come on," he said, tension bringing an edge to his voice.
As she continued to peer around, he cautioned her. "Stay close. Fabricants get snatched here."
Her large eyes regarded him anxiously. He wondered if she'd touched on the black market in fabricants during her study, on the street sex trade and other schemes… then he wondered what she knew of prostitution at all. Or sex, for that matter. She had probably learned at the beginning of her former life that some of her more distant sisters had the Unanimity-sanctioned "sacred duty" of serving Consumers with their bodies; she'd witnessed Yoona-939 and Seer Rhee together, though she and her sister had never spoken of the taboo activity. In the flat, Hae-Joo had glimpsed her peering intently at digis of the human male and female reproductive systems, before looking somewhere else. He knew she had covered a great many more topics than just those he had seen; somehow, she didn't seem confused by his warning.
She caught sight of a food stall with fried rats hanging from their tails. "This is where you live?" she asked him, bewildered.
He could see how calling all this his home might have her baffled now. The words had rushed out of him without thought, intended to reassure her. He didn't really live anywhere; his last flat was now an empty hole, and he had always been on the move, planning, fighting, hiding… but he he had done all this for Union, which had been the home of his soul for many years. And Union was inextricably linked to Old Seoul.
Lately, however, he'd been doing all of his planning, fighting and hiding for Sonmi. While that had begun on behalf of Union, he felt within him that Union's goals were no longer the main reason. Were they even part of the reason at all, anymore? Of course they are. Part of it.
He tried to focus on her question. In his exhausted state, maneuvering them through the chaos while keeping his eyes peeled for signs of trouble was more than enough for him to deal with, but even now, her thirst for knowledge was precious to him. He thought again of the wide-eyed teen he had been himself in his early explorations of these streets… seeing raw life for the first time, wondering about the elusive rebels; searching for a purpose.
"This," he said, steering her past a pile of garbage, "is where Union was born."
Something else caught her eye, and she came to an abrupt halt. He followed her gaze to a red-lantern-box above them, and saw a prostitute that had once been a Sonmi model. She sat limply in a skimpy white dress, made up like a doll; a crude, bright sticker in the shape of a flower was on her neck, probably to hide the result of a careless collar removal. At the sight of her more fortunate sister below, the doll slowly straightened, her painted eyes dead, yet still compelled, somehow, to look closer…
His Sonmi was trembling. He tried to move her along, but she walked haltingly, clasping the shawl about herself, her hands shaking so hard she fumbled. He put his arm around her to steady her, but she seemed to flinch away from his touch, clutching her shawl more tightly around her; he felt a pang deep inside. He gazed at her with concern, but she avoided his eyes, her expression drawn inward.
It was as if she were bothered not only by what she'd seen, but by some disturbing memory... suddenly, he recalled a bit of Union surveillance vidi from Papa Song's, a brief glimpse of a placid server going about her work as her behind and a bit more got groped by a laughing Consumer, and understood. Perhaps only the sight of her wretched sister had made Sonmi fully understand it herself. Damn Unanimity.
Hae-Joo led her slowly by her arm for a while, hating her shaking, what she was remembering and imagining with such distress, and his powerlessness to stop it all. He briefly wished he could add certain other Consumers to the Enforcers he'd destroyed today; preferably, he'd ram them all off the roof with that cruiser. He could just see one of those smug, arrogant men now… forget the cruiser, he'd throw him off the roof with his bare hands, screaming helplessly, plummeting to a gory explosion on the pavement below…
But murderous visions of revenge were of no use in their situation. He struck them from his mind and focused on Sonmi, wishing he could help her somehow.
They were passing another clothing stall; his eyes fell on a long black cloak. On an impulse, he stopped and bought it. It was something to do; maybe it would help her feel safer. It could at least show her that he cared.
As he wrapped it lightly around her, her eyes tried to meet his again, and her lips twitched tremulously. He put a hesitant hand on her shoulder, not sure what to say, or even if he should touch her right then… but then, she closed her eyes and nestled into his chest. He hugged her to him gently, relieved beyond words.
Gradually, he felt her shaking lessen, and finally cease. As they moved on, she walked normally, just pressed a bit closer to him than she had before.