Episode 16. On the Same Route
# Episode 16. On the Same Route
The shuttle ran longer than expected.
The engine sound lay low and even, but beneath it, a faint tremor that seemed to stutter occasionally climbed through the hull. An old ship's habit. Not a malfunction — but the kind of sound that tells you one would not be surprising.
Sion and Seorin had settled in the forward compartment; Ater and Sern leaned against the wall at the cargo hold boundary in the rear. Yona was at the cockpit-slash-comm station. Maximum distance possible inside a narrow ship — though honestly, it was not enough to call distance. Within range of hearing each other breathe.
For a long time, no one spoke.
While running, silence was fine. There was work to do, and tension closed mouths in its place. But once movement began and time free of immediate pursuit arrived, a different kind of tension started filling the space between people who did not know each other.
Sion broke the silence first.
"Not sleeping?"
Directed at Seorin.
"Sleep in a place like this and you don't wake up."
"What? You slept in the cargo hold of a collection vessel before."
"That was a ship I knew."
Sion smirked but did not push further.
Seorin was right. Known ship and unknown ship — the sleep was different. Hear a known sound and the body releases; hear an unknown sound and the brain does not switch off.
From the back, Sern said low.
"Is there a way to confirm whether we have deviated from the route."
Yona answered from the cockpit.
"No."
Short silence.
"Precisely — this ship does have a route tracker, but the direction we're heading isn't an official route, so there's no baseline to compare."
Sern thought briefly, then asked.
"Then how do you know the heading is correct."
"Feel."
Sion looked back and laughed.
"Don't bother. Demanding accuracy on a ship like this only hurts your mind."
Sern did not rebut, but a grain of clear disagreement remained in his expression.
Ater was watching Sern quietly from beside. This person was always calculating the next move first — during boarding order, and just now too. But currently, the route that served as the basis for his calculations was itself unstable. For Sern, that would be quite uncomfortable.
Ater said low.
"Sern."
"Yes."
"For now, there is nothing to do but wait."
Sern lifted his gaze very briefly, then lowered it again.
"I know."
Their exchange ended there.
But Sion did not miss that brief one. Whether Ater had calmed Sern, or simply spoken out of his own unease — it was unclear. Probably both. And either way, between those two there was a different kind of line than between him and Seorin.
Seorin read the atmosphere and redirected, perfectly natural.
"Any food on this ship?"
Yona laughed short.
"Lower left of the cargo hold."
Seorin rose and went to the cargo hold side.
Opening the old steel box, inside were several sealed food packets and water. Not luxury, but edible.
"Nice. Emergency rations."
"It's an emergency."
Seorin tore one packet open and tossed it toward Sion.
Sion caught it — then she held one out toward Ater as well.
Ater looked at Seorin briefly.
Seorin said, expressionless.
"Hungry and your judgment drops."
Ater nodded short and took it.
One went to Sern too. Sern received it and quietly broke the seal.
Who distributed and who received — strangely — was making the relationships inside this ship slightly more visible. Seorin had chosen to be the one who gave; Ater had not refused. That was not trust, but at least it acknowledged: for now, they were people who ate together.
Sion said, tearing his packet.
"Can I ask one thing?"
He was not looking at Ater's direction, but everyone knew where the words were headed.
"What."
Ater received it, calm.
"Why did you come."
Direct.
Seorin frowned slightly but did not stop him.
Sion continued.
"To be more precise. You don't need to be here right now. Normally."
Ater took one bite of the packet, swallowed slowly, and answered.
"Because a person who should not normally be here — is here."
"That applies to me too."
"I know."
Sion laughed.
"Is that your answer?"
Ater thought for a moment.
Then, in a voice slightly lower than usual, he said.
"At first, I came to confirm an incorrect sequence. As someone from the Approval Bureau."
"And?"
"I confirmed it."
Ater said short.
"But if I go back after confirming, that turns the confirmation into something that never happened."
He paused very briefly, then added.
"There are parts that cannot be explained by documents alone. If I do not confirm those at the scene, then even in my own language, it becomes a lie."
Sion heard that and took another bite of his packet.
Chewed and thought. This person had not come out of resentment. Not rage either. More precisely — within his own system, he had encountered the kind of problem where seeing it and passing would make the system itself a lie.
That was entirely different in entrance from where Sion had caught the scent of an erased name — but the endpoint was strangely the same.
Sion said low.
Sion swallowed what he was chewing.
"So it's equally troublesome for both of us."
Ater showed no reaction and took another bite of the packet.
But he did not deny it.
Sern only listened to that exchange.
His lord opening his own mouth to explain his reason — in Sern's memory, this was the first time. Until now, Ater had given orders and asked questions, but had never explained why he was here. That meant something had peeled one more layer off, inside this narrow ship.
Seorin opened a water packet and said.
"Then let's confirm one more thing."
Sion looked.
"What."
"What we do first when we arrive."
Seorin's voice was not light. If the direction diverged from here, the functional cooperation barely aligned inside this ship could split again immediately.
Yona answered from the cockpit.
"When you hit the access point, a connecting ship will be waiting. You transfer to the outer cluster line there — on that ship, there'll be someone Elia attached."
"Name?"
"Not given yet."
Seorin clicked her tongue.
"Till the end."
"That's safest in places like this."
Yona said, plain.
"Know a name too early, and when you're caught — more to sell."
Sion laughed small.
"Nice. Second time today someone's talked about selling me out."
"Not a good thing."
"I know."
Short silence passed.
The air inside the ship was slightly thinner than before. Still not comfortable, but at least past the level of reflexively tensing at each other's breathing.
Ater looked at the windowless outer wall.
Not seeing outside was oddly better. Not knowing how far they'd come seemed, strangely, to lighten the weight of the choice. If the distance back were visible, it would shake — but invisible, there was nothing to do but go forward.
Sern said, very low.
"How long until the access point."
Yona answered short.
"Couple of hours."
Sion leaned his back against the wall and said.
"Then let's rest. We're going to run again the moment we arrive anyway."
Seorin, for the first time, did not argue.
Instead she leaned her shoulder against the wall and half-closed her eyes. Not truly sleeping. Just the habit of resting the body as much as possible when it could. Though inside her head she was already sorting: at the next access point, who should speak first, who should cut, who should step back to minimize damage.
Ater closed his eyes too.
In the darkness, his father Kairon's voice no longer surfaced.
Instead, the words he had just spoken remained in his mind.
*If I go back after confirming, that turns the confirmation into something that never happened.*
Those words had been said to Sion — but at the same time, to himself.
Only Sern still had his eyes open.
He did not never-sleep, but in situations like this, he knew: staying awake last was always his share.
The ship kept running through the dark.
The destination was still far — but the place to return to had already grown farther.