Dragon Pearl(35)

Someone behind me snickered, and I flushed.

Lieutenant Hyosu spoke sternly to the rude offender. “Don’t be so quick to laugh, Cadet. All questions are valid.” Then she turned to me. “The short answer is that the Space Forces rely on all the Thousand Worlds for funding. The mercs use the Ghost Sector as a base of operations. If we offended individual planets by shutting off their access to mercs, they would hit us in the budget. Battle cruisers aren’t cheap, you know.”

Hyosu looked around seriously at all of us. “Space Forces Command believes that the Dragon Pearl has surfaced in the Ghost Sector. That’s why we’re breaking the status quo. The mercenaries are all looking for it. We have to get to it first.”

I tried not to squirm in my seat. I didn’t want to reveal my interest in the artifact.

Luckily for me, Gyeong-Ja asked about it. “Is the Pearl that important?” she asked. “I mean, the stories are two hundred years old. Is it even real?”

Hyosu pursed her lips. “The Dragon Pearl might not be as powerful as the legends claim, but we can’t risk it falling into the wrong hands. Think about it, Cadet. If the Pearl could transform an entire barren world, give it forests and seas and make it suitable for habitation, it could just as easily destroy a world, turn it into a lifeless desert. That kind of magic needs to be controlled by the proper authorities, not sold to the highest bidder.”

I shivered at the thought of someone using the Pearl’s magic to lay waste to a living world. All planets deserved to exist, even one as shabby as Jinju.

“What I’m trying to say here,” Hyosu continued, “is that our cruise around the sector has already proven more dangerous than usual, and it may get more dangerous yet. That unlucky freighter docked in our bay won’t be the last victim of greedy pirates. There could be more rescue missions—missions that involve cadets.”

I felt everyone in the class turn to look at me, but I held my head up high and refused to meet their gazes. I wondered if Jang’s ghost had heard any of this lesson, because it explained a lot.

Hyosu returned to the topic of the meridians and how to protect the ship’s energy flow. We spent the rest of class memorizing the locations where the gi was most vulnerable. While the Pale Lightning had officers who specialized in overseeing the meridians and making sure the gi was flowing properly, we cadets might be called upon to help defend key locations in the event the ship was boarded by hostiles.

My head swam with all this new information. Hyosu was a good teacher, but it was a lot to absorb. I’d taken notes on my assigned slate, which I’d have to review later. After all, I knew from experience that raiders were a real threat.

Had Jun and his friends joined their ranks, hoping for a chance at the Dragon Pearl? Had he turned into a soldier-for-hire? I couldn’t imagine that. I refused to imagine that. No, it had to be something else. But what?

I was too tired to puzzle it out. Pretending to be someone else was exhausting. I knew how I was going to spend my free time that afternoon—conked out on my bunk.

Both Jun and Jang would have to wait.





“Hey!” Sujin whispered just as I closed my eyes.

“Hmm?” I said, not wanting to get up and face the world. I smelled moisture in the air, which meant Sujin had brought Haneul with them. Only a dragon could make it rain in the closed world of a starship. If I annoyed her too much, Haneul could drench me.

“Have you forgotten about our regular game of baduk?” she asked. “You keep swearing you’ll beat me, and you haven’t yet.”

Uh-oh. I’d have to play as Jang, and I didn’t know how good he was. I was decent at the game, and at home I used to watch professional matches on the holonet when I could snatch some free moments. If Jang always lost to Haneul, maybe I wouldn’t have to scare up skills I didn’t have.

“Why?” I asked, keeping my tone light. “What handicap are you going to give me today?” I didn’t know if she typically allotted Jang extra pieces to even things up, but I’d soon find out. . . .

“I’ll give you five instead of four,” she said, “seeing as how you had a tough time on your rescue mission.”

I relaxed inwardly. My question hadn’t raised any suspicions. “Fine,” I said, and sat up. Maybe I could quiz her about my brother while we played. I gestured for her to lead the way, and Sujin and I followed.

Haneul took us to the lower recreation room, which contained equipment for games like table tennis and geomdo, or fencing. Two soldiers were sparring in one of the corners with their swords of split bamboo. I sneaked a glance, fascinated. Both of them wore traditional-style armor and helmets, but I still couldn’t imagine standing up beneath those heavy blows. Foxes were known for cleverness and trickery, not brute strength.

A few other people were playing board games. One unoccupied table had a baduk set atop it, and Haneul slid easily into a chair. I took the seat opposite her. Sujin sat between us and brought out a slate. I glanced at what my goblin friend was reading. . . . A chemistry text? Well, it took all kinds.

Baduk was played on a grid of nineteen by nineteen lines, and the stones—black for me, because I was supposedly the weaker player, and white for Haneul—were placed on the intersections of those lines. The object was to capture the most territory by setting down pieces to form boundaries. Since Haneul had given me a handicap, I started with five stones already in play.