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Chapter 13. For whom the bell tolls 3/3

  After Karen was gone, Tirn stayed at the safe house for a few more days. The fact that the internal contact had been exposed meant there was a high possibility she might be exposed as well. She did not open the windows and used only the minimum amount of light. The distinction between day and night grew blurred. While in hiding, she studied the codebook and research materials, but only one thing was decipherable: ‘Separating the same elements with a centrifuge.’

  It was something that defied her common sense. There were also codes with a certain rhythm, marked as undecipherable. A note stated they were presumed damaged when they fell.

  'Why did they send this?'

  She wondered as she looked at other pages. There was information about other objects around the disc besides the disc itself—details about fragments and forms. She pieced together the information from the drawings, which were relatively easier to understand. She had plenty of time, and she combined them by drawing to chase away the fear that plagued her.

  A few days later, thinking enough time had passed, Tirn requested an escape route through her family's diplomatic channels remaining inside Trusen. She sent a simply encrypted message to a private mailbox, stating that she was alive and had secured the codebook.

  A few days later, she went out to buy a newspaper to check for a reply. Seeing the outside world for the first time in a while, Karen’s death and the recent incident with the contact felt like the distant past. Her sense of time seemed to be fading.

  The newspaper contained articles about the Yonic incident. Headlines about ‘Water of Death’ and reports that the Alliance had released a massive amount of an unknown toxin into the river flowing into Yonic, affecting nearly a million people, covered the entire paper. There was also news that the enemy operative responsible for the attack had been captured.

  Tirn shuddered as she recalled the event. Below that, in the obituary column, was a notice for Orcunet Limtier Tirn. As she always felt, it was a particularly cruel way to reply. She confirmed the rendezvous date and time encoded within the obituary.

  The agreed-upon meeting place was a tavern near the safe house. Despite it being evening when it should have been crowded, it was strangely quiet. Tirn cautiously entered. A servant she had encountered a few times at home was sitting inside.

  “It’s been a long time.”

  She sat down, pretending to be glad to see him.

  “There aren't many people here...” Tirn spoke as she sat. His face hadn't changed, but the surroundings were different. She noticed about three men watching her.

  “Young lady, I am glad you are safe.”

  “Don't just say that; tell me the plan going forward. The military intelligence line has been compromised again.”

  Whispering while holding the man’s hand as if playing the part of a happy lover, Tirn leaned in.

  “It’s because of the Yonic incident. That’s why there’s no one here.”

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  “Are the people here because of the Yonic incident as well?” Tirn gestured toward several suspicious individuals with a glance.

  “Where is the item? The Head of the House is waiting.”

  She lowered her hand softly. “The escape route first... even if I am a concubine's daughter, I am still of the bloodline.”

  “After verification.”

  “What were the exact instructions?”

  “Securing the disc is the top priority, and the rest is to be judged on-site.”

  Tirn showed her disappointment. “And what about my mother?”

  The man could not hide his bewilderment. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Forget it. It must be beyond your capacity.” Tirn spoke, hiding her anger. “Go back and tell them... there is no disc without securing my mother’s safety.”

  “That is not possible. And the safe house has already been exposed.”

  Her face flushed red with rage. It felt as if a haze was rising from her body.

  “You are in league with the Trusen Intelligence Bureau.”

  “Low-level people like us don't know such things. We only work as instructed,” the man said professionally. “And as you know, I am a man hired for this kind of work.”

  She remembered him. Even when they met at the house, there was an insidious smell about him, and he always met with her father alone in the study. The only people her father allowed in the room alone were the butler, the mistress, and this man.

  She stood up abruptly.

  “Follow me. I don’t want to die here.”

  He signaled to those around them and walked out with her. He linked arms with her, trying to make it look like they were a devoted couple.

  “It will be troublesome if you try to run or hide.”

  Tirn felt the strength in the arm he had linked with hers; she realized she wouldn't be able to repel him by force. She walked toward the back door of the tavern and pointed to a trash can.

  “It’s in there. It’s a large backpack, so it won’t be hard to find.”

  The man was flustered. “Are you telling me to rummage through a trash can?”

  Tirn was firm. He scowled and cautiously approached the trash can. Meanwhile, three men blocked the back of the alley as expected.

  The servant rummaged through the trash and found a backpack. But it seemed to be caught on something and wouldn't come out easily. The men’s attention faltered. Tirn lunged at them, seizing the moment. She didn’t intend to knock all three down. She simply leaped over them using nearby objects. Emerging from the alley, she screamed, “Help me!!”

  Although people were few due to the Yonic incident, police officers patrolling nearby ran toward her cries. In that interval, she slightly tore her clothes and pointed the police toward the men. Seeing her tears and torn clothing, the police rushed in that direction. She ran without looking back.

  Her heart pounded as if it would burst, but she couldn't stop. She turned through several more complex alleys before finally catching her breath. The streets were in total chaos, filled with a procession of refugees trying to escape the city to avoid the ‘Water of Death.’ Checkpoints were paralyzed, and identity verification was meaningless. Tirn disheveled her appearance, became one of the terror-stricken citizens, and hid within the massive crowd.

  For several days, she moved toward the border, blending in with the refugees using her hidden funds. She planned to stay there under a forged identity until a shipping route opened.

  However, on her way to the border, an announcement came from a loudspeaker on the street. “We declare the end of the war. The Alliance and Trusen have agreed to a joint investigation into the Yonic disaster—”

  Tirn was incredulous. It was shocking that everything ended so simply with a single sentence. The people around her were sighing or cheering. It was a war they had lost, but Trusen had lost nothing except for the Yonic incident.

  Six months later, a civilian transport ship bound for the Alliance was preparing to depart at the Yonic Port. Holding a forged passport, Tirn stood on the deck. She had returned to Yonic because the death toll from the disaster was so high that identity laundering was far easier there.

  She pulled an old photograph from the inside of her coat. Karen was smiling, his face as it was before everything began. The government, her family, and the war had all abandoned her. But she had held onto this record until the very end.

  Tirn folded the photo, tucked it into her breast pocket, and looked at the receding coast of Trusen. The ship moved slowly toward the unknown sea, as if nothing had ever happened.

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