The Utopia Experiment

58

“Are you all right, Kyong?” Jon Smith said.

The Korean nodded weakly, using the question as an opportunity to bend at the waist and take in a few deep, ragged breaths.

They’d been forced into the wilderness when the military’s search intensified and foot soldiers had been deployed to find where they’d turned off the road. According to Kyong, there was a large village twenty kilometers to the east where his last surviving relative — an aging aunt — lived. In the plus column, she apparently had no love for the government and would probably be willing to help to the degree she could. In the negative column, fifteen of the twenty kilometers were through a rocky, overgrown mountain range devoid of trails.

The Korean started up the steep slope again, staying close to a stream flowing from the snow line in order to avoid the tangled foliage on either side. Randi gave him an optimistic grin that turned to an expression of deep concern once he’d passed.

“We’re less than ten kilometers into this,” she said quietly to Smith. “And we haven’t even gotten to the hard terrain yet.”

She was right, and it wasn’t just their less-than-athletic guide. Anticipating trouble, he and Randi had worn versatile shoes and jackets, but they weren’t suitable for a multiday expedition into the middle of nowhere. Their primary goal had been to pass for scientists, and showing up in full combat regalia would have looked a little suspicious.

The sun was starting to sink toward the horizon and the warmth of the day was already starting to fade. With the altitude they were gaining, he guessed that temperatures would dip well below freezing before sunrise.

So no gloves, no hats, no food. No ability to build a fire with the army tracking them. And a team member who was completely unsuited to this kind of work.

The rumble of a jet engine became audible and both he and Randi slipped into the trees as a Chinese-made attack aircraft swept low a few kilometers to the west. There was no need to warn Kyong to do the same. Staying clear of the government was hardwired into him.

When the sound of the plane faded, Smith switched on his satellite phone again.

“Anything?” Randi said, not sounding particularly hopeful.

He shook his head. “Still no signal. If they’re jamming, we might be able to get something when we make it over the peak. But I don’t know how extensive their capability is. I’ve never operated here. You?”

“Nope.”

“It probably doesn’t even matter. Fred’s well connected around the world, but North Korea’s a black hole.”

“I’ll bet your Merge would work,” she said sarcastically. “Too bad you left it at home.”

“Don’t start, okay?”

He squinted down the slope and at the distant clearing that had once contained Kyong’s village. Something seemed to move, but it was impossible to be sure. At this distance, vehicles would be visible but individual men in camo wouldn’t. Had the Koreans found the entrance to the road? Did they know they’d been there?

What he wouldn’t give for a pair of binoculars. A sandwich. A rifle. And, despite Randi’s chiding, a little audiovisual enhancement wouldn’t be a bad thing either.

“What do you think was going on in Division D?” she said as they started along the stream again.

“Dunno. Might just be another aspect of the development of the technology.”

“Then why not tell Eichmann about it? It wasn’t like that son of a bitch was squeamish about turning people into guinea pigs.”

“I don’t know that either,” he said, deciding to return a little of her sarcasm from earlier. “But it’s going to be hard to ask him, isn’t it?”

“Bullshit. I saved our asses back there and that old man wouldn’t have made it five steps up this mountain.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Randi spoke again. “Why does something like this happen every time we see each other? I’m starting to think we should each pick a hemisphere and stay there.”

“Probably not a bad idea.”

The foliage started to encroach on the edge of the stream and Kyong was no longer visible ahead. He wasn’t hard to track, though. His thrashing would be audible for hundreds of meters in every direction and his trail of broken branches and muddy footprints would damn near be visible from space. Worse, though, was that Smith had underestimated the drop in temperature when the sun dipped below the horizon. Kyong would stay warm as long as he could keep moving but his trail was starting to wander. It was doubtful that they had much more than an hour before he collapsed from exhaustion.

Smith passed Randi and came up behind the man, watching him with admiration. He might not be fit, but he could sure as hell suffer.

A few hundred meters ahead, a cliff rose above the foliage and the area around the base looked relatively flat and dry. The glow of the sunset was still powerful enough to illuminate the fog of Kyong’s breath, but it wouldn’t be long before the unfamiliar terrain would become too dangerous even for Randi and himself.

He glanced back at her. “Dig in up there?”

“Looks good.”

When they arrived in the tiny clearing, Randi took off her jacket and held it out to the Korean.

He shook his head. “It’s yours. I’m fine.”

Randi smiled and pointed to a natural furrow slanting northwest. “Don’t be too hasty. I need you to do something for me. Walk up that for about fifteen minutes and then turn around and come back. Don’t step out of the groove, though. You’ll get lost.”

He looked scared but, to his credit, just took the jacket and set out.

They watched him for a moment and then began gathering sticks and leaves, piling them next to the tangle of bushes and vines growing along the base of the cliff. When they had a reasonable supply, Smith began constructing a small lean-to — less than a meter high and barely wide enough to accommodate the three of them. With the frame finished, he covered the outside with dirt and leaves, then crisscrossed it with the vines growing around it. Randi weaved together a makeshift hatch out of the same materials while he finished up by stuffing the interior with grass and moss.

“What do you think?” Smith said, standing and dusting himself off.

“I’d probably walk by it. Particularly once it gets completely dark.”

They heard Kyong’s stumbling footfalls coming from above and Smith jogged over to help the exhausted Korean down a steep section of rock.

“You made it,” he said, throwing the man’s arm over his shoulders and half carrying him to the open side of the lean-to. “Now’s the reward. A good night’s sleep.”

“In there?”

“Yup. Just wiggle in feetfirst. You’ll be fine.”

He looked skeptical, but did as he was told, struggling to worm his way into the tight space through all the debris stuffed into it.

“Will this be warm enough?” he asked as Smith squeezed in next to him. “It can snow here this time of year.”

“It’s not as good as a nice down sleeping bag—”

“Or a room at the Four Seasons,” Randi chimed in.

“But we’ll survive.”

It was a tight fit, which was the plan, and once Randi pulled the cover she’d made closed, it started warming up noticeably. Smith closed his eyes, forcing his mind to shut off. They had too few options to bother going over. What he needed now was some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be harder. A lot harder.

Smith’s eyes came open and for a moment he was confused where he was. It didn’t take long for the sticks and leaves jabbing at his face to remind him, though. Why was it that he couldn’t occasionally wake up in his own bed to find that the day before had been nothing but a particularly ugly nightmare? Like normal people.

He wasn’t sure why he’d awoken — probably the cold or the rock in the small of his back — but there was no sunlight filtering through to him so he closed his eyes again. Before he could drift off, though, a quiet crunching and the snap of a twig brought him fully alert.

The wind? Maybe an animal?

Again, his luck just wasn’t that good. Quiet Korean voices became audible and he felt Kyong shift next to him.

Smith grabbed the man’s wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze as the voices closed in. The Korean started to tremble with fear as the men outside stopped only a few paces away. Smith increased the pressure on Kyong’s wrist and assumed that Randi was doing the same from the other side. If they stayed cool, they might get out of this.

The men didn’t pause for long, moving away again after less than a minute to follow the trail Kyong had left leading up the gully. Smith calculated that it would take them about ten minutes to get to where it dead-ended, maybe a minute of confusion, and then another five to double-time it back. The three of them would make a break for it as soon as the men were safely out of earshot.

Again, though, his luck wasn’t that good. Whoever the tracker was had real talent. The sound of them had barely faded when they turned and began running back in the direction of the clearing. Kyong tensed again, this time completely locking up in terror. It was impossible not to be sympathetic after what had happened to his family. Men like the ones approaching had taken everything from him.

Soon, the voices were all around. Smith couldn’t understand them, but Kyong could and he began to fidget. A flashlight came on outside and swept over them.

Don’t do it…

But Kyong had finally reached his limit. He jerked upright, bursting from the delicate lean-to and bolting in the wrong direction. Surprised shouts rose up as the Korean ran straight into the cliff, bounced off, and fell backward over a log.

Randi didn’t even have time to reach for her weapon before no less than five guns were pointed at them. Orders were shouted in Korean and, though unintelligible, it seemed likely that they wanted their new captives to raise their hands and stand.

They were forced to more open ground with the guns still on them, some only a few inches from their heads. Running would almost certainly get them shot before they made it more than a few steps. And even if they did managed to slip away, what then?

A man emerged from the darkness and came to a stop directly in front of Smith. Based on the nervous deference the others gave him as he reached into his jacket, he was in command.

Instead of the expected gun, he produced a phone and held it out. His accent was thick, but the English still decipherable: “Call your boss.”

Smith just stood there. Did they still think he worked for Dresner? And if so, how could he take advantage of their confusion?

His inaction elicited a frustrated huff from the man and he began dialing the phone himself.

“Take,” he said, holding it out again.

Smith did, and listened to the ringing on the other end. Apparently, they had a way through the military’s jamming.

He was still trying to formulate some kind of plan when a familiar voice came on.

“Go ahead.”

“Fred?”

“Jon! Are you and Randi all right?”

The men lowered their guns and backed into the woods to take up perimeter positions. Randi didn’t seem sure what was happening but took the opportunity to kneel next to Kyong and examine the gash in his head.

“We’re fine. I should have known you’d be connected here.”

“The resistance movement is small and not very well organized, but there were a few people I could call on. They’ll do their best for you, but no guarantees. North Korea runs by its own set of rules and I’m afraid none of them favor you getting out.”