Chapter 70: Project Blue Rose (３)

****

Lee Seah stood before my desk. The second-in-command of Facility 82, a human of unknown identity, the Foundation’s genius beautiful scientist…

I don’t want to admit it, but she’s a person with a lot in common with me.

“Hello, Director. You called for me?”

“Head of Research. How much do you know about Project Blue Rose?”

Today, of all days, I’m going to pick this apart completely. Lee Seah wore the expression of a deer caught in headlights. What on earth is she so nervous about.

“I’ll sit down, then.”

“Stay standing.”

Lee Seah stood back up.

“The Foundation has something called a composite anomaly utilization system. Systems that employ multiple anomalies to achieve a specific objective.”

“I’d imagine so.”

“You can probably guess what they are. The Veil of Ignorance, the Omniscient Eye, the Hatchery… Blue Rose is similar. Something that utilizes multiple anomalies.”

“And what’s the objective?”

“It’s a bit complicated. Where should I start—are you aware that the navies of forty countries are currently gathered in the Gulf of Aden?”

Of course I wasn’t.

Lee Seah lowered her voice.

“Well, it’s related to us. The Foundation transported an artificial sun, built in Korea, to the Gulf of Aden for experimentation.”

“…”

Why on earth? Oh, so because they made an artificial sun that could plausibly trigger anomalies, they just had to drop it into the busiest sea lane in the world?

Is that a thought process any human being could have?

“I can see from your face that you’re wondering why they’d do something like that. There’s something big down there. A singularity that causes seismic activity and anomalous weather phenomena.”

“That’s just as strange. Does this make any sense? There’s a monster causing anomalies, so they put an artificial sun that causes anomalies right on top of its head? What are they trying to solve…”

“Strange as it sounds, it’s the truth. I have no way of knowing the specific reasons either. Do you think this is the first time we’ve had to deal with Foundation HQ?”

Annoying, but fair.

“The artificial sun the Foundation lowered into the Gulf of Aden woke something up, and to deal with those things, the navies of forty countries assembled and launched an elimination campaign.”

There’s still a part that doesn’t add up. What exactly is Foundation HQ hoping to achieve?

I can’t see the connection between the artificial sun in the Gulf of Aden, the anomalous weather, and the usable anomalies. Especially not with me.

I looked at Lee Seah.

“I’m sorry the explanation is so vague. The information I have is limited as well.”

“Fine. Keep going for now.”

“Anyway, the Foundation succeeded in subduing and securing the monster in the Gulf of Aden. What happened after that was more complicated than that.”

The cleanup is always the hardest part.

“Head of Research. This is all well and good, but start by telling me what Project Blue Rose actually is. What is it that has you this worked up?”

“…”

Lee Seah let out a deep sigh.

“Do you truly wish to know?”

“Stop answering a question with a question.”

“Project Blue Rose is a kind of deus ex machina that grants wishes. One of several deus ex machinas in the Foundation’s possession. Well, this one is incomplete, though.”

Madness follows madness.

A chain of madness.

Am I the one who’s mad, or is it the world? And if the world has gone mad and I’m the only one crying out that it’s normal, then who is truly mad?

“So. The Foundation captured a monster in the Gulf of Aden to build a wishing well? Why would they need that?”

“Compartmentalization. Large-scale projects like this are split into multiple components. So that no one knows what anyone else is doing. I can’t see how the whole picture progresses either.”

What kind of nonsense is this now. I crossed my arms.

“The position of Head of Research must be comfortable… Ask anything and it’s ‘I don’t know,’ ‘I can’t do it’—what exactly can you do, and what exactly do you know?”

Lee Seah lowered her head.

“I’m sorry. I genuinely don’t know.”

“Fine, understood. Keep talking.”

“Anyway, there’s a facility related to Project Blue Rose on Jeju Island. Some of the Gulf of Aden monster’s remains are on Jeju Island as well.”

I glanced at my fingernails for a moment.

“There shouldn’t be any large Foundation facilities on Jeju Island, right? Except for that one port.”

“There aren’t any now. Project Blue Rose literally exploded.”

Two possibilities. Either it failed catastrophically, or it was so successful that Foundation HQ blew up the facility and withdrew with the results in hand.

“Head of Research. What do you plan to do?”

“…”

The Head of Research’s security clearance isn’t much different from mine. Most of it is content she can look into as well.

“Look into it a bit more. Do some investigating into whether there’s anything special on Jeju Island.”

“Understood.”

The Head of Research bowed her head once more.

“By the way, how are you feeling?”

I’m better than yesterday, at least. Not to the point where I can run around yet, though. Carrying a full pack and moving around is still out of the question.

“I’m recovering. Don’t worry about me.”

“That’s a relief.”

Lee Seah’s face was expressionless.

****

My memory is incomplete.

I can’t trust everything I remember, and there’s no guarantee that I remember everything at all.

That’s what Nanami said.

That I once worked for the Foundation. Even if I don’t remember it myself, the fact that I worked for the Foundation seems to be true.

Would going to Jeju Island let me find out?

****

Honestly, I don’t remember much. Things from before my body changed are hazy.

It was a few years ago, wasn’t it? I can’t recall the exact date, but I remember it was the Monday after I received my master’s degree.

“You called for me, Professor?”

“Dr. Geum. Do you remember how many years it took you to get your master’s—bachelor’s, military service, master’s, all combined?”

“Six years.”

“And who do you have to thank for that?”

“You, Professor.”

“Dr. Geum. Do you know how many years it takes on average in this field to get a PhD?”

“Around five years?”

“Seven.”

Dreadful.

“You obviously won’t take seven years for your PhD. What I’m saying is this—given your age, even if you stayed in this lab for another nine years, you wouldn’t be falling behind. In that time, you’d publish thirty SCI-level papers.”

“Professor, that’s a bit…”

“Dr. Geum. I’m not saying you should stay in the PhD program for nine years, of course. It’s, what’s the word—I’m asking you to do me one favor.”

The basics of bargaining.

You start by naming double what you actually want. Nine years in the PhD program, for instance. From there, both sides negotiate down to a price they can agree on. I thought about it for a moment.

What on earth is this old man trying to say that he’s reaching this far? Is there someone he needs killed?

I’d almost prefer that.

“Yes. I’ll do anything.”

“Ha. There’s a position open at a government-funded research institute, and they asked me to come. It’s a bit much for me at my age, so I told them I’d recommend a fine student of mine. Any interest in going?”

“If it’s a government-funded research institute, I’d be glad to. Will they accept me with just a master’s? Or…”

“Dr. Geum. Think of it as working while doing your PhD—I’ll get you through the doctorate within three years. You work at the government research institute for those three years. How about it?”

“What kind of research is it?”

“Classified, they said.”

A glint of humor sparkled in the professor’s eyes. He probably knew it too.

That once the word “classified” came out, I wouldn’t be able to turn down the offer, if only out of curiosity. I smacked my lips.

“What’s the catch that a government-funded institute is taking master’s students? And only by recommendation, not open recruitment. Is it dangerous research?”

“I suspect they need it done in secret, but I have no way of knowing either.”

If I said no, I’d be stuck in this lab’s PhD program for nine years.

Either way, I had no choice. And a government research institute job is hard to land even with effort, so getting it handed to me like this is a good deal. Even if it is a bit suspicious.

“Are you sure I’m really qualified for this?”

“They said you need to have completed military service.”

“I got a perfect score on marksmanship.”

The professor nodded.

“Alright. I’ll give you their contact info, so go talk to them. I can’t tell you much about what kind of people they are or how to reach them, since I don’t know myself.”

“I’ll do it. But in return, you’ll really get me my PhD within three years, as promised?”

“Dr. Geum. Don’t worry. Just do this for me, and I’ll get you graduated in no time. A dissertation doesn’t have to be anything fancy, right?”

“Thank you for the opportunity.”

I bowed to the professor once more.

****

It was just an ordinary day.

Nothing special happened. The day I received my PhD. The day my advisor, on his way home after work, died suddenly in a traffic accident.

The day a strange girl stared back at me from the mirror in the funeral home’s restroom. A day so strange it felt utterly ordinary.

Chosang (初喪, funeral), and chosang (超常, the anomalous).

That was my first encounter with the anomalous.