Chapter 2 — A Promise At The Cable Car Station

Cabin number 17 hangs between two cable pillars like a box forgotten in the gray sky. The sound of wind passing through the wire is no longer steady; Sometimes it screeches high, sometimes it slams against the metal case. Passengers sat close together on two benches, no one spoke loudly. The child had stopped crying, but the mother still hugged the child's shoulders tightly.

Duy keeps in touch with the walkie-talkie attached to his belt. He asked again about the wind speed, brake condition and the number of cabins being affected. The answer from the station above was interrupted, only a few words could be heard: "wind gust... warehouse area... waiting for orders..."

“How long until we move on?” a man asked.

"The operations team is locking the system to check. If the wind decreases, the cabin will be pulled back to the upper station. If not, the rescue team will take us down using the auxiliary rope."

“What is an auxiliary conductor?”

"It's a standard safety measure. There's no need to use it yet."

Duy spoke very briefly, but Linh realized he was choosing each word so as not to scare others. He walked around and looked at the door latch, the electrical panel, and the fire extinguisher. When he reached her, he bent down and whispered:

“Don't let the ticket show.”

"Why?"

"The people at the upper station were told there were people around the old warehouse. If that's what we're looking for, they might know you brought half of it with you."

“You think someone is following us from the station below?”

"I think we don't know anything yet. In my job, when you don't know, you can't draw your own conclusions."

Linh looked towards the glass door. The shadow of the mountain drifts slowly in the clouds. “I thought the technician only needed to check the wires and brakes.”

“I also thought the archivist only sorted paper.”

“I didn't go looking for this to cause trouble.”

“But trouble can still find you.”

The cabin jerked slightly. A short whistle sounded. Duy clung to the handrail, waiting for the cabin body to stabilize before returning to the control panel. He put on his headphones and called again.

“Upper station, cabin 17. I need to confirm the status of cylinder 4.”

A male voice answered, this time clearer: "Pillar 4 is fine. The wind sensor on the North side reported an error. We are transferring data to the backup system. Do not start it arbitrarily."

“Understood.”

Linh heard the sound of machines clicking in her headphones. “Who was the person who spoke?”

“Tu, tour guide and in charge of temporary operations when the captain goes to the upper station.”

“Do you know about the box?”

Duy looked at her for a second. "I do not know."

“How long have you known Tu?”

"Since childhood. He is three years older than me. He used to work in the maintenance team. Later, he switched to guiding guests on the trails."

“You have many acquaintances.”

"There aren't many people here. Everyone knows everyone's business, but not everyone talks."

Linh took a water bottle from her bag and took a sip. Her throat was dry even though the cabin was cold. She wanted to ask about Duy's mother, but saw that he was focusing on the dashboard, so she waited until another passenger turned to the window.

“How long has your mother worked here?”

Duy did not respond immediately. He removed the lid of a small electrical box, looked at the readings, and then closed it again. “Seventeen years.”

“Are you a technician?”

"Wire maintenance worker. She checks each connection before the cable is allowed to run. On rainy days, she gets on the station at four in the morning."

“So why did you keep half the ticket?”

"She didn't say it clearly. A month before she passed away, she gave it to me along with a piece of paper. On the paper was written her father's name and the time 08:40. She said that when the cable line was about to close, I had to go to the upper station, find the box, and then give it to the person carrying the other half. there.”

“How long has it been since your mother passed away?”

“Four years.”

“Did you say what the debt is?”

Duy looked out at the space under the cabin. “She said that money was used to repair the system after a landslide. But on the bank papers, the borrower was my father. He died two years before my mother. Mom has to pay again. When she passed away, they transferred the debt collection note to my name."

“How much did you pay?”

“Almost half. The rest is attached to the family house in the village above.”

“If you don't pay?”

“The bank has the right to sell.”

Linh pressed her fingernails into the bottle. “Mai is your sister?”

Duy turned back, frowning slightly. “Mrs. Nam told?”

“She said she was leaving the mountain because of her student debt.”

“Mai has nothing to do with the cable car debt.”

“But it is related to whether your family can still keep the house or not.”

“You want to ask me if I'm looking for a box to sell information?”

“I want to know what you would do if there was evidence in the box.”

Duy leaned his back against the cabin wall. “If the evidence helps prove the debt was transferred incorrectly, I will use it properly. If you want to sell, we stop right at the station above.”

“I don't need money.”

“You don't know what's in the box yet.”

“I know my father paid an amount that did not belong to him. I just want to determine why.”

“And then?”

Linh was silent. She hasn't thought further. Maybe she will take the documents to a lawyer, maybe she will ask the bank to review the records. She wasn't even sure who she wanted to sue. The dead cannot answer, the living can deny everything.

The lights in the cabin turned back on. Passengers breathed a sigh of relief, but Duy did not sit down. He looked at the electrical panel and realized that the main power had only just been temporarily supplied.

“We'll keep going,” he said. “But the speed is reduced by half.”

Moving cabin. The shaking returned, this time slow and heavy. Every time it passes the roller at the cable post, the cabin body tilts to one side and then balances itself. Duy forced everyone to sit still. He stood at the door, his hand on the emergency brake lever, his eyes never leaving the mountainside ahead.

Linh saw callouses on his palms. This person is not the type to just sit behind a control screen; He climbed poles, changed bolts, and pulled ropes in storms. The way he looked at the cabin was the same way she used to look at an old file: knowing every small detail could lead to a big consequence.

When the cabin was about two hundred meters from the upper station, a black object appeared on the side of the trail. It is located on the stone foundation, next to the old landmark. Linh squinted her eyes.

“There's someone over there.”

Duy looked after. A figure wearing a raincoat stood under a pine tree, facing the cabin. That person did not wave or walk. As the cabin approached, the figure turned around, walked down a steep path and disappeared behind the cliff.

“Do you see?”

"See."

“Is that Tu?”

“Tu wears orange reflective vest, not black.”

The cabin enters upper throttle with a sharp stop. The staff opened the door and asked passengers to leave in groups. Duy stood outside, checked the wheel lock and looked around before letting Linh step down.

The upper station is smaller than the lower station, leaning against the mountainside with an old concrete foundation. Behind is the equipment warehouse, the green painted iron door has many peeling pieces. A sign reading “Technical area — non-authorized people exempted from entering” was bent by the wind.

Tu ran from the operating room, wearing a reflective jacket just like Duy said. He is about thirty years old, has tanned skin, and always looks at the other person before listening to a sentence ask.

“Are you two okay?” Tu asked.

“It's okay,” Duy replied. “How is the wind sensor on the North slope?”

"Switched to backup system. But the forecast is worse. From now until evening, the line may have to be closed."

Tu looked at Linh. “Are you Mr. Khai's daughter?”

"Correct."

“I've met him a few times.”

“Do you know the box?”

Tu smiled very lightly. "I know a lot of boxes in this area. Tool boxes, fuse boxes, file boxes. Which one are you talking about?"

“The tin box is at the upper station.”

Tu's smile disappeared in less than a second. Duy saw it, Linh also saw it.

“Who told you?” Tu asked.

“My father.”

“Has Mr. Khai passed away long ago?”

“Three months.”

Tu turned to Duy. “Your mother also mentioned that?”

“What are you asking for?”

"Because if the box is really here, I want to know whose rights it belongs to. The technical area is not a place for outsiders to arbitrarily search."

“We did not search,” Linh said. “We have half a ticket.”

Duy took out the ticket, but only let Tu see from afar. Tu did not reach out to receive. He looked at number 17, then looked up at the warehouse.

“This ticket is not a travel document.”

“It's an appointment,” Linh replied.

Tu was silent. A strong wind blew across the station platform, causing the technical sign to hit the pole. He reached out to hold it back.

"If you want to search, wait until I finish checking the warehouse. The door has been stuck since last week. There are old gas cylinders and electrical equipment inside, don't turn on the lights arbitrarily."

“Will you come with us?” Duy asked.

“I'll lock the door behind you guys.”

“Tu.”

“Duy, I'm following the rules.”

Linh looked at the two people, feeling that there was another story between them that had not been told. Duy doesn't argue anymore. He put away his ticket and pulled the zipper on his tool bag.

“Before I go into the warehouse, I need to call Mai,” he said.

“Mai is in the village above,” Tu replied. “She just called to ask for bank documents.”

“Does she know we're up here?”

"Know."

The wind whistled across the platform again. On the other side, the trail leading down behind the old warehouse is covered by a row of corrugated iron. Linh saw a new shoe track in the mud and walked towards it.

Duy followed her eyes. “That footprint doesn't belong to the operations team.”

Tu came back too quickly. “Maybe a lost passenger.”

“Guests do not enter the restricted area.”

Three people stood in front of the iron door. Duy removed the flashlight from his belt and checked the battery. Linh gave half of the ticket to him to keep while she took her phone to take a photo of the shoe print. Tu didn't say anything, but his hand tightened on the keys.

When Duy put the key in the lock, there was a sound of metal falling from inside the warehouse. Not loud, but clear enough amid the sound of the wind.

He stopped.

Linh lowered the phone.

Tu took a half step back, looking towards the end of the station platform.

“There are people in the warehouse,” Duy said.

He didn't open the door right away. He signaled Linh to stand behind his shoulder, and Tu locked the way down the mountain. Once again, Linh realized the difference between someone who searches for secrets and someone who knows how to keep alive when the secret doesn't want to be found.

Duy turned the lock slowly. The door opened slightly, the smell of motor oil and damp iron spilled out. The flashlight beam scanned the rows of shelves, cable reels, wooden crates and an old map hanging on the wall.

At the end of the warehouse, a ventilation window was open. Beneath it was a piece of black cloth stuck to a nail.

The person who was in the warehouse left a few minutes before them.

On the dusty floor, next to shelf number 17, there is a long line like the mark of a heavy object being dragged away. The mark stopped in front of a low iron cabinet, where the lock had been picked.

Linh looked at Duy. “The box used to be there This?"

Duy did not answer. He bent down and took out a small piece of paper from the drawer. There was only one handwritten line on it:

“Don't open it when it's only half full.”

Outside the warehouse door, Tu's walkie-talkie suddenly rang out. A strange voice spoke very softly, but all three heard clearly:

“If they have reached the upper station, let them unlock it themselves. We just have to wait for the box to come down.”