Chapter 66 — The Last Seed Keeper

The Upper Dome appeared from afar like an artificial mountain, towering above anything Khe Mien had ever seen on Dong Tro — not a simple dome like the Green Dome or an open wall like the Sand Dome, but a multi-story structure stacked on top of each other, each covered by glass that reflected the sunlight in streaks of light so dazzling that the entire group had to squint as they got closer.

"Seven floors," Diem Quynh said softly, counting each layer of the structure with the both surprised and wary eyes of a technician evaluating an unprecedented giant machine. "I can't imagine how much energy it takes to maintain such a large structure."

"That's exactly what they want you to think about first," Bach Lam said, his voice low and wary. "Size. Power. Before you can ask any other questions."

Green Dome's group — Khe Mien, Bach Lam, Ngan The Binh, Diem Quynh, and Kien, who begged to go along even though her ankle was still a bit sore — arrived at the main gate at the same time as Vom Cat's group led by Cau Bach Thinh and Diep Ba Nhan, both groups decided to join together to create a sense of solidarity from the very first steps.

The entrance gate was unlike any other Arch gate Khe Mien had ever passed through — there was no simple guard checking documents, but a long hallway with complex metal devices mounted on both sides of the wall, emitting a soft buzzing sound as each person in the group passed through, and small screens displaying words whose meaning Khe Mien did not understand but immediately sensed their purpose: monitoring, recording, evaluating.

"Welcome to Upper Dome," a voice rang out from the end of the hallway, and a middle-aged man stepped out to greet them, his face wearing a professional smile that didn't reach his eyes, his outfit delicately tailored in a style Khe Mien had never seen before — not handwoven rough fabric like at Vom Xanh, but a sleek material, almost wrinkle-free even after a full day's work.

"Canh Ba Tuyen, Security Commissioner of the Central Council," he introduced himself, bowing slightly in a formal ceremony. "I will walk you through the registration process before the conference officially begins tomorrow."

"Registration procedure?" Khe Mien asked, trying to keep her voice calm even though a wariness had begun to rise in her heart.

"Just necessary steps to ensure the security of all delegates," Canh Ba Tuyen replied, his voice gentle but leaving no room for protest. "Identification, checking of belongings, and a short interview with each representative to clearly understand V's position before entering the conference room."

Ngan The Binh exchanged a glance with Bach Lam, both immediately realizing that the word "interview" had a much more disturbing nuance than its polite appearance.

The registration procedure lasted nearly two hours, with each member of the group being led in turn into a small private room, where seemingly harmless questions — hometown, occupation, purpose of trip — gradually turned to more specific details about their journey, about the places they visited, about what they asked about at Vom Cat and Vom Da.

When it was Khe Mien's turn, her interviewer, a young woman with a coldly professional demeanor, asked a question that made her entire body tense for a moment.

"We heard that your group asked about an ancient organization called Thien Ho, at both Sand Dome and Stone Dome," the woman said, her voice never changing tone, as if she were asking about the weather. "Can you explain why this topic interests you so much?"

Khe Mien felt her heart beat faster, but she had learned, over the months on Dong Tro, how to keep her face calm even when her insides were churning. “I am a Seed Keeper,” she replied, choosing her words carefully. "My job requires understanding the history of farming and species conservation before the Great Change. That name appeared by chance in some old documents we found."

“Accidentally,” the woman repeated, a thin glimmer of disbelief crossing her eyes before she jotted something down on the clipboard in front of her. "Interesting. We have also noticed many other groups recently expressing similar 'coincidental' interest."

That statement, spoken with deliberate calm, made Khe Mien immediately understand that this was no ordinary security interview — this was a cleverly disguised interrogation, and the Central Council was aware, at least in part, of what Khe Mien and others had discovered across Dong Tro.

On the way from the registration area to the rest area, Khe Mien's group passed by a large balcony overlooking the lower levels of the Upper Dome, and the sight below made her stop momentarily. On the upper floors where they were standing, the floors were polished stone, perfectly manicured plants grew in delicate ceramic pots, and the light filtering through the multi-layered glass colored everything a warm, almost artificial yellow. But further toward the bottom of the Arch, she could see the lower buildings, crowded close together, where a long line of people formed in front of a water distribution station, and the light there was an entirely different shade of cold gray.

"They call that area the Base Floor," Canh Ba Tuyen said, noticing Khe Mien's eyes and explaining with a calmness that made her shiver. "Housing the workers who serve the operation of the Upper Dome — low-level technicians, farmers who farm the lower floors, families who have lived here for generations but never had the opportunity to advance to the upper floors. An efficient system, though I understand it might look strange on a smaller, more egalitarian Dome like the Green Dome."

"Equality is not a strange thing," Khe Mien replied, unable to hold back the sharpness in her voice even though she knew she should be cautious. "That's something Green Dome built on purpose, not a fluke."

Canh Ba Tuyen just smiled, a smile that was neither displeased nor disapproving, and continued to lead the way without further response, leaving Khe Mien with a new uneasiness—not just about what the Central Council knew about her group, but about the very nature of the place where that power ruled, a microcosm where the wealth at the top was built on the foundation of the forgotten classes below.

When the formalities were finally completed and the group was led to the delegates' resting area — a series of small rooms, clean to the point of cold, with nothing superfluous other than the bare essentials — they gathered in a common room to discuss what each person had experienced.

"They asked me about Dai Van Cuong," Bach Lam said, his voice tense. "Not his name directly, but they asked about 'individuals holding sensitive historical documents at the Salt Dome'. They know."

"They asked me about Lai Ba Nguyen," Diem Quynh added, her voice shaking. "And about the visit to the Archives at Sand Dome."

Kien, sitting crouched in the corner of the room, spoke up with a fear he didn't try to hide. “I think they know everything about us,” he said. "Every place we've been, every question we've asked."

Ngan The Binh, standing at the window overlooking the expanse of Upper Dome below — luxury high-rises for the upper class, contrasting sharply with the much more cramped, crowded residential areas in the distance that he had just caught sight of as they were led past — nodded slowly.

"If they know that much," he said, "the question is no longer whether we are safe here. The question is why they invited us anyway, instead of simply keeping us at a distance."

"Perhaps," Khe Mien said slowly, a thought slowly forming in her mind, "they want to control the story, not suppress it. Inviting us here, where they can monitor every word we say, everyone we meet — it's much safer than letting us freely spread what we know beyond their control."

Bach Lam looked at her, a deep worry in his eyes. "If you're right," he said, "then tomorrow, when the conference officially begins, we need to be more careful than at any other time on this entire journey. This is no longer the Ashes, where danger comes from nature or from those we can see in front of us. This is another game, played with rules I don't yet fully understand."

That night, as the group tried to sleep in the cold, unfamiliar rooms, Khe Mien lay awake looking up at the ceiling, hearing the soft hum of surveillance devices whose presence she could not see but definitely felt, and in her heart, fear mingled with a determination sharper than ever — that no matter what tomorrow brought, she would not let that fear keep her silent about the truth that she and her companions had paid. The price is too high to find out.