Chapter 42 — The Last Seed Keeper

The Stone Arch Gate is not a gate in the sense that Khe Mien once understood it, but an artificial crack cut straight into the cliff, wide enough for two people to walk side by side, reinforced with metal beams darkened by smoke and time, leading deep into the dark heart of the rock.

In front of the cave entrance, a guard post made of crudely stacked stones but firmly stood blocking the path, where four soldiers wearing thick leather armor, carrying metal-tipped spears, stood guard with a look of alertness that instinctively made the whole group slow down.

"Stop. Identity and purpose," an older soldier, perhaps the captain of the guard, spoke up, his voice gruff but not hostile, a marked difference from Binh Diem's openly threatening demeanor at Salt Dome.

"Caravan from the Green Dome," Bach Lam replied, stepping forward, his hand holding out a small metal card engraved with the symbol of the Green Dome that he always carried for official meetings like this. "We came to exchange climbing supplies and find out news, on our way back from a trading trip with Vom Cat."

The soldier examined the card closely, turned it in the light to examine a watermark that Khe Mien couldn't see clearly from her distance, and nodded, though his eyes still didn't completely relax.

"Green Dome," he repeated, as if he were pondering something in his mind. "It's been a long time since any group from that side has stopped by here. You guys didn't come at the best time."

"Did something happen?" Khe Mien asked, unable to hold back, even though she felt Bach Lam glance at her slightly, an implicit signal reminding her to be careful with questions too early.

The soldier looked at her for a moment, pondered before answering, and finally said simply: "A mine accident. Ten days ago. We're still dealing with the aftermath." He said nothing more, and clearly had no intention of explaining further to the strangers who had just arrived.

He signaled for a younger soldier to lead the group inside, through the dark crack, but after only a few steps, Khe Mien's eyes gradually adjusted enough to recognize the strips of oil lamps mounted along both sides of the tunnel walls, emitting a weak but steady orange-yellow light, marking the path through a maze of tunnels carved deep into the mountain.

The scene inside the Stone Dome stunned Khe Mien for the first moment — there was no sky, no Filter Roof, no terraced fields she was familiar with, only successive cave chambers, each chamber carved out to accommodate a house, a blacksmith's workshop, or a warehouse, all bathed in a continuous artificial light that did not distinguish between day and night.

"No sunlight gets in here," she whispered to Bach Lam, feeling a slight stuffiness begin to creep into her chest even though she tried not to let it show.

"Yes, in a few upper compartments, near the top of the mountain, where they cut narrow skylights for light and ventilation," he replied, his voice retaining the calmness he always carried in strange places. "But most of life here takes place under artificial lights, yes. That's the price of living in the heart of a mountain instead of under an open dome."

The sound of metal clashing echoed from somewhere in the distance, as regular as a giant heartbeat of the mountain itself, mixed with the gurgling sound of water flowing through channels carved along the tunnel floor — an underground water system that Diem Quynh, eyes shining with professional curiosity, couldn't help but bend down to observe more closely as they passed.

"The technology is much more sophisticated than I thought," she whispered to Khe Mien. "Look at how they bring underground water out from the mountain, taking advantage of the natural slope instead of using pumps — much less energy intensive than the Respiratory Station system."

The young soldier led the way to a larger cavern that seemed to serve as the administrative center of the Stone Dome—long desks lined up, scribes working diligently under lamplight, and at the far end of the room, a heavy wooden door led into a private office.

"You will need to present your request to the General Manager before being allowed access to the supply warehouse," the soldier explained, lightly knocking on the wooden door before opening it. "Mr. Wei Ba Cuong will receive you."

Inside the office, a middle-aged man with a stocky build, his hands covered in calluses from many years of manual labor before being promoted to a management position, stood up from his desk covered with books and technical drawings to greet them. His face carried a look of deep fatigue, a fatigue that came not only from daily work but from a greater burden that had recently occurred.

"The group from the Green Dome," he said, his voice low and somewhat hoarse, as if he had talked too much in the past few days. "Sorry for not being able to welcome you as warmly as we should have. We are going through a difficult time."

"We're sorry to hear about the mine accident," Khe Mien said, choosing her words carefully. "If there's anything our group can help with, please let us know."

Wei Ba Cuong looked at her for a long moment, a glimmer of something flashing in his eyes — not exactly suspicion, but more like the tired vigilance of someone who was so used to having to be on guard for everything. "You're kind," he said finally, "but this is not something outsiders can help with. Well Seven — our deepest mine shaft — collapsed ten days ago, burying three miners and injuring seven more. We still haven't determined the exact cause, and that makes many people here very uneasy."

A heavy silence spread in the small office, and Khe Mien clearly felt, even without saying it out loud, that this was the reason behind the unusual vigilance of the guard at the gate, behind the tired, wary eyes of the man standing in front of them.

"We just came to exchange climbing supplies, sir," Bach Lam said, keeping his voice calm and straightforward. "We will not disturb you any longer than necessary, and will respect all rules of the Stone Arch during our stay."

“I appreciate that candor,” Wei Baqiang said, a look of relief crossing his face, if only for a moment. "Our supply warehouse is still operating normally, although everyone's morale is not. I will have someone take you there immediately, and arrange a place to stay for the night if you need it."

He stopped and looked at the whole group. His eyes lingered a little longer on the seed box Khe Mien always carried close to her body, and on the thick file of documents peeking out a corner from her luggage bag.

"Just one thing I'd like to remind you of," he added, his voice lowered more like a friendly warning than a formal command, "under the current circumstances, my people — especially the Tunnel Watch Team — are very sensitive to anything unusual. I advise you to complete this exchange as soon as possible, and avoid questions that could be misunderstood."

That sentence, gentle but clear, caused Khe Mien to exchange a quick look with Bach Lam, both realizing the same thing: regardless of the truth behind the collapse, they had entered a place of such tension that every action, no matter how unintentional, could be interpreted in the most dangerous way.

Wei Ba Cuong personally led them to the supply warehouse, a large cave deeper into the mountain, where metal shelves ran from floor to ceiling, filled with climbing gear, ropes reinforced with thin metal fibers, and headlamps powered by solar crystals that Diem Quynh couldn't take his eyes off of as soon as he saw them.

“These lights are much more durable than what we have at Green Dome,” she said, picking one up to examine it with the fascinated gaze of a mechanic seeing a solution to a problem she had been struggling with for months. "The case is shockproof, and seems to use much less energy."

“Our blacksmith workshop makes everything in this warehouse ourselves,” Wei Baqiang said, a rare hint of pride creeping into his tired voice. "Stone and metal were the only things we had in abundance. We learned to turn them into everything we needed, even things that would have been brought from elsewhere."

Bach Lam carefully selected the necessary items for the climb ahead — anchors, safety ropes, a spare set of headlamps — while Ngan The Binh tested the strength of each rope by pulling it as hard as possible between his two hands, a cautious habit he never abandoned no matter where he was.

"We'll pay with drought-resistant vegetable seeds, the kind we brought back from the trading trip in Vom Cat," Khe Mien said, opening a small compartment in her luggage bag to take out a carefully packaged sample of seeds. "I know Stone Dome doesn't cultivate much, but if you have any growing space in the mountain, no matter how small, this is a variety that can survive with very little water."

Wei Baqiang took the small bag of seeds, examining it with genuine curiosity rather than usual commercial courtesy. “We have a few small grow bays near the skylights,” he said. "Not enough to feed the entire Arch, but enough to remind everyone what blue looks like. Thank you for this gift."

When the exchange agreement was completed and the group was led to the businessmen's guest house — a series of small rooms carved into the cliff, each room only having enough space for a few simple wooden beds — Khe Mien felt the fatigue of a long day seeping into her every muscle, but also felt, deeper, a wariness that she could not shake off, like a small grain of sand in her shoe, smoldering with discomfort though not enough to stop her.