Chapter 12: Class One

Morning in Mapo was bright and cold, and for twenty minutes it was the best morning of Seon-ho's life.

He sat cross-legged on the bed in Tae-hwan's shirt, with a cup of tea Tae-hwan had made badly and he was drinking anyway.

Tae-hwan sat opposite him with his left hand held out, palm up, on the blanket.

"Check it," he said.

Seon-ho checked it.

He washed it again, slowly, with the green light running pale and warm across the skin.

The pink line had not moved.

No black thread rose to meet the light.

It came up clear, and went out.

"Closed," said Seon-ho.

"Closed," Tae-hwan echoed, as if the word might break.

He leaned in and put his forehead against Seon-ho's, bare hand on the back of his neck.

"Four days," he said. "It's been closed four days. That's never..."

Feet rang on the iron stair outside.

Not one pair.

Many pairs, fast and heavy, and under them a high mechanical whine.

Tae-hwan's head came up.

His whole body changed.

In half a second the soft man on the blanket disappeared, and the S-rank stood in his place, pale as paper.

"Get behind me," he said.

"What is it?"

"Get behind me. Now."

The door opened without a knock.

First through it came six figures in white sealed suits with clear face plates, carrying gray cases with hazard markings.

Behind them, in an ordinary gray suit and white vest, came Inspector Go Hyun-seok.

His face was tight and very tired.

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