Chapter 51 — The Ship That Never Looks Back

The Door He Never Opened

Bui Dac Sinh listened to the entire story about the convocation at the Reception Hall, not interrupting even once, his hands clasped tightly together in his heart throughout the whole story, his eyes were distant as if being pulled back to a very distant time in the past.

"Not everyone who was taken away that night died." He repeated Chuong Khac Dinh's words, his voice so soft that it was almost drowned out by the sound of artificial rain falling outside his small workshop. "He finally said it, after nineteen years."

"You already knew, right?" Khe Lam asked, a premonition suddenly flashed in her mind when she saw the old man's expression. "I know something I've never told you."

Bui Dac Sinh looked at her for a long time, then sighed, a heavy breath as if releasing a burden he had carried for too long. "I don't know for sure, little girl. But I've suspected, for years, and I've deliberately not told you, because I'm afraid that if I say something uncertain, it will make you do even more reckless things than you've already done."

"Tell me now." Khe Lam said, her voice urgent. "I'm no longer a child who needs to be protected from the truth, Grandpa. I've proven that through everything I've been through."

Bui Dac Sinh nodded, slowly, as if convincing himself that the time had come. "Years ago, when he was younger, living as close to the edge of the Bottom Deck as he does now, he had heard stories—just fragments, passed by word of mouth among the old people who lived in this remote area, never spoken aloud, never confirmed—of people who had disappeared from all official records but never died. They were called, in those whispered stories, the losers."

"Failed?" Bach Van asked, a term he had never heard of in any official documents.

"Central Demographic Register." Bui Dac Sinh explains. "The system registers every citizen living on this ship, from birth to death, tied to an Air Ticket, with all the rights and obligations of a living person in the eyes of the Council. Once someone is removed from that register — not because of death, but because of being deemed a threat that needs to be removed from public view — they no longer legally exist, even if their body is still breathing, still alive, somewhere on this very ship."

Khe Lam felt an electric current run down her spine, the disparate pieces she had collected over the past months—her mother's renewal seal, Chuong Khac Dinh's words, Bui Dac Sinh's story—now beginning to piece together into a shape much larger than she had ever dared to imagine.

"Where do they live?" She asked, her voice shaking with both excitement and fear.

"You don't know exactly." Bui Dac Sinh replied, honestly. “But you know, from what you have heard over the years living near the edge of the system, that there are areas deeper than the Bottom Deck, old compartments officially sealed decades ago for reasons of structural safety, where some people continue to exist, out of sight of the Council, sustaining themselves in ways you can only guess at.”

"Why didn't you tell me this a long time ago?" Khe Lam asked, a bit of blame mixed in her voice even though she tried to suppress it.

"Because they're just stories, little girl, not proof." Bui Dac Sinh replied, his eyes full of regret. "And because you're afraid, if you give me just such a thin glimmer of hope without any certainty, I'll spend my whole life chasing a ghost, just like my father did, and in the end pay the same price."

Khe Lam remained silent, letting those words sink in, understanding the fear behind his silence, even though it didn't completely ease the feeling of missing out on time that she had just realized.

“But now, the head of the Council himself has confirmed that part of it is true.” Bach Van said, breaking the silence. "Mr. Sinh, do you know any way we can find one of those areas? Any clues, no matter how small?"

Bui Dac Sinh pondered for a long time, looking out the factory door, where artificial rain still fell steadily into the old drainage ditches of the Day Deck. "There was someone he once met, many years ago, a wandering repairman who called himself only a pseudonym, never giving his real name, who occasionally appeared on the edge of this area to trade a few old parts for other supplies. He always suspected that person did not actually exist in any official records, although he never dared to ask directly. It had been many years since he saw that person, but he remembered the area where he usually appeared — an old passage leading deeper into Bottom Deck, through an area that has been officially sealed off for structural insecurity."

"Can you take us there?" Khe Lam asked, her voice tense with hope.

Bui Dac Sinh looked at her, a final hesitation appearing on his old face before he nodded. "I will take you there. But little girl, you must understand, if what I suspect is true, if there really are people living in hiding there for many years, they have learned to survive by being extremely cautious and suspicious of strangers. They will not welcome us with open arms, no matter how well-intentioned we may be."

"I understand." Khe Lam said, holding his hand tightly. "But I need to try, Grandpa. After all I've learned, I can't turn my back on the possibility, no matter how slim, that my mother is still alive somewhere out there."

Bach Van placed his hand on her shoulder, a quiet gesture of support. "We're going to need to be well prepared. Not just in terms of personal safety, but also how we approach, so as not to make anyone there feel threatened."

"That's right." Bui Dac Sinh nodded in agreement. "And there's one more thing you need to know before you go — if the Council is indeed tightening controls out of fear of a leak, as Zhang Keding has just confirmed, it's likely they're also stepping up patrols in areas on the fringes of this system, places that have long been neglected but may now become new targets of attention. This trip will be more dangerous than anything you've done before."

They spent the rest of the evening discussing the details of the trip — Khe Lam would take two days off of accrued leave, using the excuse of visiting a distant relative in another neighborhood, a reason trivial enough not to attract the attention of Vu Khac Dang or anyone else on the team. It was much more difficult for Bach Van, because the training schedule of navigator students was more closely monitored, but Uong Khac Tram had promised to help cover up his absence by claiming he was completing a long research project with her in the library, a reasonable excuse after weeks of the two frequently appearing together there.

"Bring a spare flashlight, three days' worth of water, and a basic repair kit." Bui Dac Sinh advised, his voice returning to the matter-of-fact tone of someone who had survived many unpredictable situations. "Do not bring any personal communication devices that can be located. If you truly find what I suspect, they will not trust anyone carrying technology that could betray their location."

"You've been preparing these for a long time, right?" Khe Lam asked, realizing the proficiency in his instructions.

"A person who lives long enough on the edge of this system learns to always be ready for unannounced trips." He replied, a thin smile crossing his wrinkled face, the first smile Khe Lam had seen from him since the conversation began.

Khe Lam looked out the factory door, where the darkness of Day Deck stretched far away, hiding countless nooks and crannies that she had never fully explored even though she had grown up nearby all her life. She thought of her mother, of the slim possibility that somewhere in that darkness, a woman of the same blood as her was still living, breathing, nineteen years after being erased from all official memories of this ship.

"I'm ready." She spoke, her voice hard, even though her heart still trembled with a mixture of hope and fear. "We leave as soon as possible, before the siege tightens even more and this door closes forever."

Before leaving the factory, she stopped by her grandmother's apartment, without telling all the details, just saying that she would be absent for a few days to pursue an important clue with Bach Van and Mr. Sinh. After hearing this, Doan Bich Thu did not ask any more questions, just hugged his niece tightly, a hug that carried both worry and silent faith.

"If you find her." She said, her voice shaking. "Tell her that, even though she never had the chance to apologize in person, she loved and protected her daughter with all her might, all these years."

Khe Lam nodded, unable to say a word because her throat was choked. She just squeezed her grandmother's hand one more time before walking out the door, carrying that message like an invisible luggage but heavier than any bag she had prepared for the trip ahead.