Chapter 9 — Floating Market Without Water

Khai placed three copies of the minutes on the table and then used a ruler to measure the edges of the paper.

The first copy is the pump station acceptance certificate, with door elevation number M-07. The second copy is the operating panel he keeps. The third copy was sent by Duy from the factory. Same valve gate, three different heights.

“The factory version says the door is over one meter two high,” Khai said.

“What about reality?”

“Lower.”

“How low?”

“About seventy centimeters.”

An looked up. “Seventy centimeters enough for mud to pass through?”

“If the water level is low.”

“So the record is wrong.”

Khai did not deny it. He took a pen and circled his signature. “I signed.”

“What pitch did you sign on?”

"I signed the summary page. Data from the measurement team."

“You don't read?”

"I read. But there is no independent testing equipment."

“Still signed.”

Khai put down his pen. “Do you want me to say I'm stupid or a coward?”

“I want you to be precise.”

"I signed because if the acceptance is stopped, the pumping station will not be handed over, the cooperative will not accept the repair station, and the workers will be laid off. I think the error will be corrected later."

“Is it fixed?”

"Are not."

“And I quit.”

“I quit after knowing that the edited version had been used to apply for coordination rights.”

Khai said he did not want to turn himself into a whistleblower. He wants to keep his job as a ferry driver to avoid others saying he is taking revenge on his ex. But when An placed Ti's photo in front of him, he understood that silence had taken shape.

“The record is above the water,” he said. "On the paper the valve doesn't touch the mud. In real life it's right underneath."

Ti sat by the door and drew three levels. He took a ruler and connected the red ink line with the south branch. When the drawing was turned over, a contractor seal was revealed under the paper. Little realized that this mark was similar to the mark on the trunk of the car taken at 2:17 pm.

An called Duy and asked for a face-to-face interview about altitude.

Duy agreed at a coffee shop near the factory, where there were cameras and many people. He came alone, carrying a laptop.

“I know Khai gave you the old version,” Duy said.

“You even know that he signed?”

“Construction documents are not his personal business.”

“So you explain the three pitches.”

Duy opened the map. “There are three different benchmarks.”

“Same frame of reference?”

“Not quite.”

"The factory version uses new embankment markers. The station version uses old embankment markers. The difference is due to the river changing."

“The valve door also changed?”

Duy smiled unhappily. “I know how to ask.”

“I know how to read.”

Duy did not deny there were discrepancies, but said it did not prove the factory discharged sludge. The south branch is a technical road, no longer part of daily operations. If someone opens it illegally, the factory will be the one to suffer because they have to deal with the consequences.

“Who has the key to M-07?” An asked.

“Multiple units.”

"Name?"

“Operation team, technical department, cooperative according to agreement.”

“Is there a list?”

Duy closed his laptop. “I will send it.”

“You said that twice.”

“I have work.”

“Duy.”

He stopped at the door.

“My father signed the drawings,” An said. “Do you know?”

Duy is back. His face changed, not because of anger but because his private part was touched.

"My father has worked on many projects. A signature does not make me responsible for him."

“But you are using your work to protect the factory.”

“I'm trying to keep living people's jobs.”

“By letting people receive mud?”

Duy left.

In the evening, Ms. Sau held a meeting on a large boat. Someone suggested making the contract public. Some people object because the factory supports water. One boat owner said that if An posted the signer's name, his family would be dragged in. Others say if there is no name, they won't know who decided.

An's mother was silent until the end. When people asked, she just said:

"I signed a paper to get a berth. I didn't sign to add mud to the porridge pot."

The saying spread throughout the boat.

Mrs. Sau did not stop. She gave the discharge schedule appendix to An, but asked to clearly state that she had kept it for many years.

“You want to incriminate yourself?” An asked.

“No. I wanted people to know I was scared.”

Khai placed the acceptance record on the table. “I signed too.”

The two looked at each other. No one asked for forgiveness.

Exactly at 2:17, even though the valve was sealed, a shaking sound was heard from the riverbed. The mud next to M-07 swelled, then a stream of turbid water leaked through the crack.

Khai pulled An back.

In the mud, a metallic smell stronger than the smell of oil arose. I shine a light and see sparkling black particles drifting along the stream.

Khai said:

“This is not just return water.”

He took a simple test strip from the tool box, not to use it to make conclusions, but only to check the conductivity. The result is higher than the main stream water sample, but it is not known which substance causes the increase. An clearly stated that this is a screening test, not a test.

An environmental officer came to take samples again. This time he requested representatives from factories, cooperatives and households. Duy appointed Vinh to stand and witness. Vinh looked at the sample bag, his hand never leaving the walkie-talkie.

“Did you open the valve last night?” Khai asked.

Vinh replied: "I will maintain it."

“Is maintenance open?”

"Maybe."

Khai stiffened. “Don't use that word.”

Vinh looked at him. “You signed the minutes before.”

No one continued speaking.

The officer puts a seal on the form, reads the number and time. An's mother asked when the results would be available. He said at least five days. She looked at the muddy water and said five days was enough for the goods to spoil and the children to get thirsty.

“The process takes time,” he said.

“Damage does not wait,” she replied.

An gave him Ti's photo board without asking him to draw conclusions. He said time series is useful if the camera keeps the original data.

Ti said: "I'll keep it."

“Don't give the only copy to anyone.”

“I have three copies.”

He nodded, then wrote his name in the photo supplier record.

After the officers left, Duy told An the factory could temporarily stop production for one shift to check the tank. An asked why he hadn't stopped yet.

“Stopping one case costs billions.”

“What does one sludge drain cost?”

“I don't know if there will be sludge discharge.”

“But I know the water difference.”

“Knowing does not mean having the right to close factories.”

Khai looked at Duy. “You have the right to request an inspection.”

“I asked.”

“Who refuses?”

Duy did not say his name. He said the decision was at a higher level.

An sees a familiar circle: those who know have no rights, those with rights do not speak, and those affected have no data.

In the afternoon, the editorial office received a photocopy of the acceptance record from a delivery person. This person did not give his name. The copy has the contractor's stamp and a handwritten line: "elevation confirmed according to new map". The date of correction is after the date of Revelation.

Khai looked at it and said the correction was not his.

“Maybe the station chief,” he said.

“You said he passed away.”

“He died, the signature remained.”

An brought the photocopy for preliminary examination. The corrected ink is different from the original, but it is unclear who wrote it. She didn't post this part right away.

Ms. Sau asked if the factory stopped, how would the cooperative survive? An said it is possible to set up an emergency fund from the remaining support money, but that money is not enough for a week. Ms. Sau said people cannot eat with a map.

“But you can't eat mud,” An replied.

The two of you shut up.

Khai led An to the old wharf, the hidden place Black water remains. He used poles to measure the actual elevation, showing that the M-07 door was lower than the acceptance version. Each time the pressure changes, water from the south branch can overflow toward the market.

“If someone only operates according to the minutes, they still do wrong,” An said.

“That's the scary thing.”

“Because there is no need for bad people?”

“Because as long as you don't measure it again.”

Little caught Khai standing next to the stake, but this time he asked first. Khai nodded.

At that moment, a factory boat passed upstream. It doesn't pull the tube, doesn't have a barrel, just leaves a thin strip of foam. Duy said it was coolant.

An asked for a license.

Duy said yes.

“Send me.”

“I will send it.”

Khai watched the foam strip disappear and said:

“This is not just return water.”

And under the mud, another valve turned slightly.

An did not post the photocopy immediately. She sent the ink sample to a laboratory, asking them to compare only the time and type of ink. Preliminary results say the edited line was written after the original line, but the writer was not identified.

Khai looked at the results. “At least it's no longer a matter of whether I remember or not.”

“It doesn't have a name yet.”

“Names do not always come before truth.”

Ms. Sau gave the photocopy to the households to see. A boat owner said people from the factory often come to check on the wharf. Another person said Vinh once received the key from the cooperative. The testimonies are different, but they all confirm that door M-07 did not "stop" as reported.

Duy called and said the factory would let the group check the maintenance records. He asked An not to use the handwritten version in the title. An agrees, because the revision is not enough to conclude.

“Are you willing to give in?” asked the editor.

“I am committed to accuracy.”

Khai placed a new stake next to the old mark. The elevation difference is visible even without water. Take a picture of the two piles standing next to each other, then record the date of measurement. If someone pulls out a stake tomorrow, he will still maintain his position.

An's mother brought a bowl of porridge to Khai. He finished eating and said for the first time in many days that the dirty water was no longer his story.

The next morning, An brought two measuring rods to the editing room. She placed them parallel on the table, next to the old map and the photo Ti took at dawn. These little things don't make an article on their own; they just force the writer to ask the right questions. The editor told her to call Duy back and ask specifically who was responsible when the measurements in the record did not match the elevation in the field.

Duy replied after nearly an hour. He did not deny the discrepancy, but said the records were prepared by many units over many periods. An wrote that sentence in its entirety, without changing it to "crooked factory" or "blame cooperative". She understands that an article can make readers angry in one session, but a precise questionnaire will keep them away for months.

At the wharf, Mrs. Sau opened a new book. Each page is for one measurement, with time column, witnesses, pile position and accompanying photos. Khai signed first and then passed the pen to Duy. Duy looked at his ink for a long time before signing. I asked if I needed a signature from the factory, Ms. Sau replied:

"Not so they can be trusted more. So that later they won't say they never stood here."

Late afternoon, the water still hasn't returned. But for the first time, on the muddy bank there was a row of footprints of many people going in the same direction.