Welcome to the Subway

The decision came quickly.

More than any other reason, it was that night had deepened and the wounded had begun to plead against the cold. If there was any humanity left among them, these people had to be moved somewhere warm, and soon.

"……We'll have to keep them alive first, and see from there."

"We could just hack the leg off quick and go!"

"We're only talking like this because we can't even agree among ourselves."

"Even so, we can hardly just send the doctor back as she is—"

There were conditions instead, and everyone agreed to accept them.

"All right. Two armed sentries, the Gentleman, and the Foreman stay here and keep Dr. Myeong under guard. That's what you mean."

"Right. What we do with the doctor gets decided after every last wounded man is moved to safety. Reasonably. Democratically."

"So long as it isn't Hyper-Democracy."

"What's that?"

"Anyway, you'll count it in my favor that I found the wounded a place to rest, won't you?"

"I don't know why we should…… Well. Call it human nature. But that doesn't put a pardon in the doctor's hands."

Dr. Myeong had no complaints of her own. She had just narrowly avoided losing a leg.

The ones seething were some of the Waste Disposal Squad. Or perhaps "some" was too kind. The number ran a little past half.

"Miserable bitch…… Look at her, managing that face."

"You call that managing her expression? She's just glazed over. That one thinks she didn't do a damn thing wrong."

"I've lived this long and never thought we'd split on something like this."

"Everybody get a hold of yourselves. Push it too far and we're no different from her."

"Shut your mouth, you prissy bastard."

One more than a bare majority had voted to start by cutting the leg off. Under Hyper-Democracy, Dr. Myeong would already have been on her way to consult Kkamagwi. She would have needed the practical wisdom of living without a leg.

But their rule was that two-thirds of the members had to agree before they could act, and if they fell short, the status quo held. It was the same method of voting Headquarters used now. Not the Human Meat Factory's sham show of hands, but a ballot cast in perfect anonymity.

The number of votes against told him plainly enough that quite a few of them opposed so cruel a reprisal. The mood simply would not let them say so aloud. As for why there were, unexpectedly, so many nays—well. Perhaps because humanity was still breathing somewhere in their chests.

"This isn't over, so don't even think about running."

"What are you standing around for? Let's move them. It's getting colder."

"You dog of a doctor. Laughing on the inside, aren't you? I know. I'll make you cry blood. Just you wait."

And so the wounded began to be carried out, one by one, then two by two.

The deadline on the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mission was tomorrow. This would be the last night.

"How did you sort the wounded?"

While everyone else was absorbed in moving them, Dr. Myeong and I wedged ourselves into a corner, shoulders pressed together. Like that, we could forget the cold a little.

"I'm practically a doctor myself. Just missing the license."

"What did you do to become a doctor?"

"You don't even come looking for me over ordinary injuries. Why do you think that is?"

"Well…… because you can treat a body like yours on your own? Medicine you picked up in the field?"

"Something like that."

"Hmm."

It wasn't a very convincing explanation, but it hardly mattered.

"True enough. It isn't the first time you've surprised me. These days I'd be more shocked if you said there was something you couldn't do."

She understood well enough on her own.

Sitting still, I only grew colder. It wasn't the season for a cold like this. Underground was underground, then. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A temperature Elder Heo would have liked.

Which made me wonder how the Geofront kept its temperature ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠when sunlight never reached it. I'd heard there was a sky there, and a sun. At night a moon rose, and stars, though they certainly couldn't be the real moon and the real stars.

"……I won't forget this debt. Not ever."

She had sat for a long while as if she might speak and might not, and I'd wondered what great thing she was working up to.

"That doesn't suit you. Do something you never do, and something bad comes of it. And this is already the perfect situation for something bad."

"Looks to me like you're doing plenty you never do, yourself."

Whatever I thought, things had a way of running off on their own. Life did not go the way I pictured it. I hated company, and company kept attaching itself to me. I tried to keep people from dying, and they died all the same. It had been like that lately, too. Gyeong-su had been forced into my company and hadn't survived. Elder Heo's fate had left my hands from the very beginning.

The last thing my sister Hee-ju ever said to me. Just as those words had it, the world was nothing but things that couldn't be helped.

"……Anyway. Thank you."

"Yeah."

I had no choice but to take the thanks.

Before I knew it, the Waste Disposal Squad had taken the wounded and cleared out of the underground entirely. Left in this place, first of all, were the two armed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠men who had been standing sentry. They didn't look especially sharp.

"Doc, don't even think about running. Don't make extra work. Understood?"

"If she tries to run, are we supposed to shoot?"

"Of course we shoot. You think the gun's for show?"

"Damn it, shoot a doctor? How did things get this bad. We're finished, I tell ya……."

"Right? What did we do to deserve this? We don't have a thing to do with it."

True to type. The very picture of the salaried man the Old Man used to talk about.

The Gentleman hadn't had a gun to begin with, but the departing Waste Disposal Squad had pressed a pistol on him and told him to use it for self-defense. The way he handled it was the way Dr. Myeong handled a dagger. Nothing to worry about. If you aren't on familiar terms with the trigger, the bullets stay shy of where they're meant to go.

And the Foreman—what kind of man was he? Even a field commander would need considerable rank to set a Grade-A doctor beneath his heel. The way she had dropped her tail the moment she saw nothing but his identification, there was something there.

"What was written on that man's ID?"

"Ah, that—"

"Curious what I do for a living?"

The Foreman came closer, smiling slickly.

"Ears on the back of your head, too?"

"You could tell?"

He took out his identification and showed it to me as well. He wasn't as high-ranking a man as I had thought.

Even so, there was a reason he could play the king in here. The post written just beneath.

He really had been the king of this place. The authority to use the medical supplies meant to be stockpiled here however he pleased, and the authority to order every civil servant on site as he liked—he had both.

"So the man who'd be saddest to see this place end up like this was right here."

"Sad? Hardly. A workplace getting smashed to pieces is everyone's dream. Anyway, being called Station Master makes my skin crawl, so keep calling me Foreman."

Grinning, he swept his eyes over the half-collapsed interior.

"Tsk. Wrecked halfway. If the whole thing had come down in a heap I could have clocked out on the spot, but like this I've just got a mountain of extra work, haven't I?"

No passengers, nothing else, and above all a subway that did not yet even have a train. A space that had collapsed the moment they began to dress it new. The Foreman's work was to drag the subway station of legend out into the real world.

The hour crept past midnight. At last the final wounded man made it out of the underground.

Slip away before those bastards come back, or settle it when they do. One of the two.

Running had gotten a good deal easier. The number of people I'd have to put down had dropped sharply. They all had guns, but a number like this I could handle without trouble. It wasn't a hair-trigger moment yet. Better to watch a little longer.

"Postman. You said you wanted to see the platform."

He hadn't forgotten. If I let it show how badly I wanted it, I'd be the one asking. I had to hide what I really felt.

"Want is a little grand. I'm just curious, a little."

"Hm? That is wanting to see it. And it's written all over your face, so who are you fooling."

Strange. I'd hidden it. I had.

"I have to go down anyway, you know."

He had said there was something he was looking for.

"You can see the platform on the way. I owe you information, too, so we might as well go together. How about it?"

No reason to refuse. I was stuck here regardless, and if I could look around a subway station while I was at it, nothing could be better. This place was more than a simple sightseeing stop to me.

"Sure."

"Not you. I was asking them."

The two sentries, and the Gentleman.

"I'm taking the Postman down and coming back, so you stay here, yeah? All we really need is the doctor."

"You want it done that way, sir?"

No. That was a problem for me.

"Hey, Foreman. The thing is—"

I explained the necklace.

"So that's what it was? And here I thought it was that…… what do they call it. Matching gear couples get."

"What, a couple's set?"

"Yeah, that. I figured husband and wife had gotten themselves matching necklaces."

I should have been the one to jump first.

"Husband and wife?! Watch your mouth!"

Dr. Myeong's reaction was far too fast.

"The Postman fusses over it so much, I assumed."

"Anyway, we can't be apart, so Dr. Myeong has to move with me."

"Hmm…… what to do."

The answer, unexpectedly, came in an instant. The sentries and the Gentleman alike agreed at once to move together.

"What's with all of you? You think they smeared honey on the platform? It's just a ruin."

The one thrown off was the Foreman, and what they were thinking wasn't anything so grand.

"If not now, when would we ever go, sir."

"That's right, that's right—we came all this way, we gotta take a look!"

Curiosity no different from mine. Not that they were freaks like me, the kind who spent their ordinary days thinking about the subway.

"If you were to guide us, Foreman, I would very much like to come along. If it means we might go deeper underground."

At least I could tell what the Gentleman was thinking. He had this place figured for some distant cousin of the Geofront.

"Well…… nothing so grand as a guided tour. Just tag along and look for yourselves. Everybody grab your gear and get up. And, Postman."

"Hm?"

"You're really not married to the doctor? Sure looks like a couple's necklace."

"Not even close. This is basically a shackle."

"A shackle? So it is a couple's necklace."

"As you know, this is the fourth basement level, and where I'm going is the sixth. There's a platform down there too, so you can look at that."

Just before we set off, the Foreman set the column in order. At the very front went the Foreman, who knew this place best, and behind him Dr. Myeong, whose fighting strength was the poorest. On an ordinary day the very rear would have been mine, but with the risk of flight I had no choice but to yield the spot to the sentries.

"Myung Hwa-young."

And the Gentleman stuck himself directly at her back.

"……What."

"I clearly gave you a chance earlier. Why did you kick it away?"

"A chance?"

"A chance to apologize."

"I told you. I only did what I was taught."

The Foreman had already begged them, over and over, not to fight while they were moving through the underground. The moment either of them crossed the line, the rest of us meant to shut it down at once, and so everyone listened hard to the two of them.

"So a sin that comes of doing as you were taught needs no apology?"

"You still don't understand? I'm saying it was never a sin to begin with."

The two of them carried on their war of nerves regardless.

"I don't know what the others think, but I, at least, understand what you did, a little. As a Grade-A doctor, you must have had a duty to carry out."

"……."

"Understand that as much authority as you hold, you hold that much responsibility. And that sometimes a sin is simply handed to you, dropping out of the sky for nothing. An apology isn't something you're taught to make. Even if no one ever taught you, you ought to know how to do it yourself."

Even if Dr. Myeong apologized, nothing that followed would change. There were plenty of them good and furious, and the Gentleman himself had said he had no intention of granting her a pardon. Demanding an apology was only talk at the level of what was proper.

Dr. Myeong kept her silence to the end, and the Foreman, as a signal that the time had come, opened the yellow door.

If I told Jeong-gu I had been to a subway station, how would he have reacted?

Really? How was it? Was what you saw in the books actually there?

Not that his curiosity would have exploded. He would have asked the questions fitted exactly to me, so I could say everything I wanted to say.

Hee-ju's reaction was even more obvious.

A ruin? So there was no train? What kind of subway is that.

And the Old Man—

"Postman, how is it? Heart pounding, thinking about the platform?"

"……Heart pounding?"

"Your eyes seem to change whenever the platform comes up."

"Dr. Myeong, take a look at that man's eyes. Signs of blindness."

I couldn't afford to act too obviously around the Foreman.

From there on, unfamiliar objects and equipment began to appear in earnest. Everything was so new that I couldn't take it in at a glance.

"Does the subway station begin here, sir?"

Through that single line from the Gentleman, I understood at once.

Having this man along was a gain.

He had asked, exactly, the question I had wanted to ask. Would he keep asking?

"Actually, where we were before was all subway station, too."

"Is that so? But it was an empty, desolate space."

He really did speak prettily. How did he ask so well? I had wondered the same thing. We had clearly entered a subway station, and yet after the airstrike I had lost consciousness and woken to nothing around me but vacant space. So I had thought that yes, it was underground, but I had come out somewhere that was not a station at all. The books said subway stations were connected to underground shopping arcades, and I had half believed it.

"That's because it was abandoned space. They say in the old era they called it ghost space."

"Whoa, ghost space. Hell of a name, ain't it? What happened there?"

I had one of the sentries figured in an instant. Faithful to his household, filial to his parents, gentle with his children. So why did he talk like that?

"Just what people who like ghost stories called it. It's only an abandoned lot. There's the same kind of space on the fifth basement level."

"And just like that, I'm cold……."

"Is the rumor we spread to keep the secret. The truth is, something truly astonishing is hidden here."

"Oh?!"

"But it's a secret."

"Cooled right off again, didn't it?"

The Foreman was quick at reading other people, but he was not especially skilled at hiding himself. When he lied, it showed all over him.

"All right. This is the fifth basement level."

Now a single floor stood between us and the destination.

"This is the first time I have ever been in a basement so deep. Good heavens……."

The Gentleman looked around and could not go on. That was what a pervert looked like. I was not that far gone.

……Thud.

"Hm? What was that just now?"

A sound with something artificial in it. Low, and heavy.

"Is there still a machine running in there?"

"There are machines, but they aren't running. We haven't set out a single power core yet."

Strange. There had definitely been a sound just now. It had come from lower than where we stood.

"Something must have collapsed. The airstrike definitely left things unstable."

"Th-then let's hurry, find the thing, and get out!"

"You don't need to see the platform?"

"There'll be another chance later—"

"No. We're going to see it."

Later. The most irresponsible word in the world.

"We're going. No arguments. If you're scared, the rest of you can head up first."

A tunnel sunk under thick darkness. I wanted to walk in that space, wide as the universe.