Chapter 57:  03:43– REFLECTION WHITE/BLACK/BLUE [8:17pm]

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< REFLECTION:WHITE >

Time log, Seungho Age 21
5 years prior

Seungho couldn’t stop staring.

But what else could he do? The sight was shocking. The sheer enormity of it. The sheer illegality of it. He had expected the truth to be dark, to be disturbing. But not on this level. Not to this extremity.

The research faculty as the computerized voice had called it was about half the size of the second wall. But it was almost triple as filled. The walls from floor to ceiling were covered with cells, each a luminous blue sheen and about six feet in height. Bubbles issued here and there, oxygen flowing to the floating bodies within. It sent rippling shadows across the floor where several black platforms were parked. Seungho could see controls on the handles of each and presumed that they must be then used to gain access to each cell.

Male. Female. Children. Adults. Elderly.

The walls of the research facility were lined with cells and cells of suspended human beings of every age and gender.  And it wasn’t just the surface of the wall. Seungho could see from this angle that behind each cell were further rows of other cells, all hanging neatly in lines. Perhaps there was a control panel somewhere allowing the cells in the front to be switched around with those behind. It was all so systematic.

But it didn’t detract the fact that there was human experimentation going on in the innermost wall.

But how?

How could the government get away with kidnapping and holding onto so many humans without someone noticing?

The same question seemed to be bothering Cheolyong. “How?” he whispered, hushed voice magnified in the emptiness of the room. The hundreds of floating humans did not reply.

He slowly spun, a three sixty to drink in the enormity of the blue tanks and the suspended bodies and as he completed it, he stumbled backwards and it triggered something. Lights flashed and a computer screen appeared.

With a trembling hand Cheolyong reached out and touched the grey screen. Immediately reports winked into view, clearly the work of someone who had been in a rush and left what he or she had been working on in plain sight. That or they believed security was so tight it didn't matter to leave prime information out. 

There were data and numbers, figures and charts, diagrams and sketches. All of them about the subjects in the cells. Words stood out - experimental trial phase II, disposal procedures, graveyard disposal list, updated test subject list – but they meant nothing to Seungho, and clearly nothing to Cheolyong either.

There was a hissing sound and Seungho and Cheolyong turned simultaneously to see the door slide open. Seungho stiffened and Cheolyong bolted, sparing a precious few seconds to try and turn off the screen before then sliding quickly under some desk to the corner and shrinking far into the shadows. He held his breath and so did Seungho and they watched as the doors opened and someone stepped in.

< / REFLECTION:WHITE >

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< REFLECTION:BLACK >

Time log, Mir Age 18
5 years prior

Footsteps were accompanied by the rumbling of wheels over the floor. Cheolyong tried not to make a sound as he recognized the trolley that bore Hyo Jin’s body. It glided over the floor, pushed by a man in slick white. He stopped it next to the computer table, affording Cheolyong a clear view of what the scientist was doing if he craned his neck into a slightly awkward manner. 

Quickly and efficently the scientist stripped Hyo Jin of the sheet covering her. Cheolyong let out a small hiss before he realized that she was still dressed. Only it wasn’t her bloodstained clothes anymore, the clothes of the street. Instead she was dressed in a formfitting black suit that stretched to her ankles and wrists. Her hair was brushed back behind her ears and her skin had been wiped clean. She looked pale under the blue lights and unearthly. She did not look like his sister anymore.

A second set of footsteps sounded and another scientist entered.

“Is this the latest casualty?” the second asked, a female voice cool and breathy.

“Yeah. Bang Hyo Jin, aged 21,” the first replied, his voice unmistakably male but on the high end of the spectrum. “The report says she was killed outside the gates, bullet to the brain. She’s been denied her 24 days and is slated for the cells.” He read the information aloud in a flat voice, sounding bored. 

“Poor soul,” the woman said, and Cheolyong saw one latex gloved hand sweep a path down Hyo Jin’s cheeks. Cheolyong wanted to jump out and yell at her not to touch his sister, but he restrained himself as he saw that the movement was almost… motherly.

“For the good of the Three Levels,” the man said, sounding slightly sympathetic as he quoted the government’s slogan and snapped on his own pair of gloves. “Let’s make this quick.”

The woman made an assenting sound and moved away. She pressed several buttons and one of the black platforms rose off the floor, startling Cheolyong. He watched as she maneuvered it over to the trolley where the male scientist then slid Hyo Jin’s body over. It was slightly awkward and her limbs splayed, but he rearranged them neatly and then returned to the main computer.

There was a whirring sound and Cheolyong bit back a growl of frustration that he could not see what was on the screen. Instead he focused on the black platform where a blue line ran up and down.

There was a gentle beep and then the lights faded from the platform.

“Alright, that’s the data done,” the man said with minute satisfaction. “Let’s get her settled in her new home.”

There was another whirring sound, harsher this time, the sound of metal working and gears shifting. The flooring parted to expose a black hole from which an empty cell slid up on a metal platform. Unlike the cells on the wall, this one was empty. The platform stopped just shy of the same level as the slab upon which Hyo Jin lay and the male scientist padded over. He tilted the platform and gently slid her body into the cell.

Cheolyong entire body was straining now. If he let them do as they please his sister would end up just another body on the wall. But if he tried to intervene, could he first of all overpower two people? And secondly, evade raising an alarm?

The answer in all likelihood was no.

So he forced his muscles to still and his breathing to halt and he watched as the scientists closed the latch of the cell. There was a smooth sound as the internal mechanics locked the cell properly and a persistent hiss as air was pumped out of the cell. And then, with a touch of the button it began to flood with the same blue-green liquid that all the cells shared. Cheolyong bit back a pained gasp as his sister’s body began to float, the water high enough to suspend her limbs and torso. Her hair wafted out, long and wavy; her limbs lay gangly and loose; her skin took on a pale and translucent sheen.

Only when the cell was full did the scientists manipulate it to stand upright and slide backwards, joining the rows of cells. There was a clicking sound as the cell attached and the male scientist let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Well that’s done,” he said, throwing down his gloves into a bin with relish.

“Not yet,” the female scientist chided. “We need to input the data and sort out the subject’s allocation.”

“Intricacies,” the man sniffed. “C’mon, I’m hungry. We can come back later and do it after lunch.”

The female sighed. “Alright. I have data that needs to be processed in the meanwhile. We can re-adjourn then.”

“Yes,” the man cheered and Cheolyong waited until he could hear the hiss of the door closing before he dared to slip out and check.

Cheolyong only spared a glance to check the area was clear and then he was dashing over to where his sister floated, her eyes closed, her lips gently parted.

He placed his palms flat against the glass and the coolness of it sent shivers down his arms.

“Noona,” Cheolyong whispered.

He couldn’t leave her here. If he did she was only going to become yet another one of their subject experiments. And if there was one last thing he could do for her, it would be to release her from this.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he said in a hushed promise.

Pulling his hands away from the glass was one of the hardest things he had to ever do. The loss of its cool touch was instantaneous and Cheolyong winced.

He backed up to the long black table and tapped the screen. Just as before the reports winked into visibility. This time though there was a new square of white. Subject #7224F it read. Next to it, his sister's name. Beneath was a dozen lines of black detailing her height, weight, age, any notable features. And beneath that, in starker font, details of her death – a bullet to the cranium – and of how she had been denied her 24 days – and Cheolyong his last goodbye to his second sister –, time of being wired up and at the bottom with question marks, general experimental purposes? Project 450? Project 221?

His chest seized.

It was one thing to speculate that his sister was going to be used; another to actually see details of it written in black and white.

The final words at the very bottom: release date – unknown. Subject young and healthy. Expected shelf life at least ten years.

This was his sister’s fate if he did nothing. To remain here and be an experimental subject for the next decade or so?! He couldn’t let that happen.

But what could he do?

Cheolyong scrolled down, searching for anything that could give him a hint.

A warning: do not directly remove subject from tank. Doing so will cause immediate deletion. His eyes scanned the paragraph hungrily, drinking in certain words that jumped out at him. Irretrievable. Data contaminated. Corrupt…

Cheolyong turned back to the cell, so his sister.

The answer was almost barbarously too easy.

The glass was titanium fibreglass. Fists alone would not suffice. His hands tapped a rhythm as he tried to sort his thoughts into something coherent. He must have pressed something because suddenly a keyboard appeared, white and keys laid out systematically.

Wonderingly, he tapped one key. A letter appeared in the white rectangular bar above, flickering once or twice. H. Cheolyong tapped in another letter. I. To test it out he pressed the enter button and-

A black screen to the right popped up. The word ERROR! flashed across the screen. There was no sound but the suddenness of it made Cheolyong jump in his skin. Please input a proper code…

Patience, he told himself sternly and returned to the keyboard.

Please input a proper code… Cheolyong’s eyes raked the words. Code. Code. What was code? Code was something that could manipulate this. But code had to be correct. Cheolyong tapped gingerly at the keys again and watched at the words shifted up to make room. There were lines of code, all white against black and words that Cheolyong knew, but didn’t understand how they came together as 'code'. 

/newcell:7224F

/cell7224Fopen

/cell7224Flock

Cheolyong pulled a face. Would this work?

/cell7224Fopen.

Enter.

Words flickered across the screen. Opening cell 7224F without proper flushing and oxygen extraction procedures will result in corruption of subject. Do you still wish to proceed with this-

Cheolyong’s finger came down on the YES button before he could second guess himself.

Repeat warning: Opening cell 7224F without proper-

He jabbed at the YES button again.

Cell 7224F opening now.

Cheolyong turned, breath caught in his throat at the soft snick sound. The cell door fell open and the liquid splashed to the metallic ground, an obscene lurid blue against the backdrop of grey. His sister’s body fell forwards, limp now that it was no longer suspended by the liquid and she flopped to the ground, limp.

Cheolyong rushed forwards, eyes wide as he skidded to his knees and gathered her in his arms. She was cold, skin damp and eyes very much closed. There was no heartbeat, no sign of life, and it was then that Cheolyong realized what he was doing was right.

Hyo Jin was dead, no matter what 24 days were granted to her or not. Doing this was right.

Her skin had a grey hue to it and Cheolyong watched as her body shivered, the very molecules coming apart just as Hyo Sun’s had.

“Goodbye noona,” Cheolyong whispered into her lank hair that was plastered to her skull by the water. “Say hi to Hyo Sun noona for me.”

Hyo Jin’s lips twitched, and Cheolyong wondered if it was a trick of the light or the movement caused by his arms, but it made her look for half a second like she was smiling. But before Cheolyong could take a closer look her entire body trembled and Hyo Jin vanished, leaving Cheolyong with empty arms and the taste of chemicals on his lips.

“What’s going on?” came a yelp from the door. Cheolyong jerked his head up to see the male scientist from before stare wide mouthed and wide eyed at him. “Who are you?”

Before Cheolyong could say anything the female scientist hurtled in after him. “What happened? You said cell 7224F was reopened-“

She caught sight of Cheolyong and stopped in her tracks. But instead of mirroring what the male scientist had said, she tapped at her own set of identification patterns on her shoulder. “Intruder!” she barked to the tiny micro speaker there and there was buzzing.

Cheolyong leapt to his feet. He had to get out of here.

He turned to look at the rows of a thousand other cells. But what about these other people? He may have saved his own sister but that didn’t mean he should just abandon the hundred others. He had no idea if they knew of their situation, were they sentient? Were they unconscious but unable to say anything? But wait, they were dead, but somehow still alive? How did this all work? What were they? The questions swirled, an endless whirlpool and Cheolyong tripped. 

The two scientists jumped. “Don’t move-“ the male yelled and Cheolyong barreled past him. Surprised the two scientists leapt away from him and Cheolyong ran out the exit which slid open in response to a human presence.

He had to get away. That was the priority.

He would save those people somehow, someday, but for now he would escape. He was the only one who knew about them and could do something for them. He couldn’t risk all of that by trying to play the five-minute hero.

Cheolyong threw himself behind a container as soldiers hurtled past him. The minute they went he grabbed for a laborer's apron and hastily tied it about his waist. The identification code was still there and as fast as he could without coming off as suspicious, he sped walked out. If he was lucky the scientists would have no clue who he was and Cheolyong would have a few precious minutes whilst security identified him on the monitors and then raised the signal. He needed to be gone and hidden somewhere deep in the city by then.

One step at a time Cheolyong, he told himself and pulled his head down low as he slipped out the third wall and into the second.

One step at a time.

< / REFLECTION:BLACK >

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< REFLECTION:BLUE >

Time log, Thunder Age 19
5 years prior

One step at a time, Sanghyun thought as he stepped through the void into consciousness within another consciousness. Entering this world was like stepping into a bolt of lightning, feeling the electricity reverberate under his skin to his fingertip and toes, setting his nerves on end.

In a way it was like he had been struck by lightning. His molecules split apart, his consciousness relocated. His body was still lying there, sealed and floating in a cryo cell that would take care of him until his mind returned to it. But for now he was here, in a world where anything and everything could be manipulated by data.

“Welcome to this side little brother,” a playful voice tinkled and Sanghyun opened his eyes, blinking once and then twice as he got used to the unnaturally contrasting light of the Three Levels. He should be in the Ghettos if his memory served right. He looked up to see an artificial sky of black-blue, a digital image since what was actually up there was the base of the Mid-level. Not, that in the first place anything was real in this world.

Lowering his eyes he saw that they stood somewhere in the market area if the ragged tent tops and abundance of food spread across tables was anything to go by. They were sequestered in some corner away from the main crowd, enough distance to go unnoticed. The air was thick with dust and sheer human abundance and Sanghyun wrinkled his nose.

“Not what you expected?” Sandara teased and Sanghyun had to stop himself from imprinting Durami over her and replaying the event over and over again in his mind. The scuffle, the yelling, the fall, the body, the blood.

As if Sandara could read his mind her smile faded and Sanghyun hated himself for making her sad.

He coughed to test his vocal chords. “Not really I guess?” he admitted. “I mean I’ve seen it on the monitors, but first hand…?”

Sandara danced forwards, grinning. “I know what you mean,” she said, her smiling returning almost instantly.

Sanghyun was glad that he never had to explain with either of his sisters. They just knew and understood. “So what now?” he asked, looking around at their busy surroundings.

Sandara stepped forwards lightly, her hands coming up to brush the invisible wrinkles in Sanghyun’s shirt. “Now we find the man who killed Durami,” she said in a voice uncharacteristically flat. Sanghyun caught her hands between his as she pulled off, an indescribable sadness dusted on her face. He wanted to wipe it away. His sister should only ever know how to smile.

“We find him,” he said softly, agreeing, enfolding Sandara into a hug so that she could not see his face and its expression. Regret and grief painted there in tones of dark grey and blue.

Sandara pressed her face into his shoulder. He could feel her shuddering breath as she tried to gather herself. “We’ll find him,” she hissed into the fabric. “And then we make him pay."

Sanghyun closed his eyes, tipping his head upwards and wondered if it could rain here. If it even needed to rain. “Okay noona,” he said softly. “We find him and then we make him pay." He dropped his head back down and wondered if this is what Durami would have wanted. 

< / REFLECTION:BLUE >

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