Chapter 5 — The Thirteenth Landmark

Phan Duc Loc lives in a house with a yard full of laurel trees, nearly seven kilometers from the center of Ha Luu. He opened the door after Bich knocked for the third time, wearing a button-up shirt even though it was hot. The silver hair is neatly combed, the face looks like that of someone who is used to questions that do not want to be answered.

“I don't receive journalists,” he said.

“I didn't bring a camera,” Bich replied.

“You always carry a tape recorder.”

Bich touched the device next to her ear. “It's turning off.”

Loc looked at An, his eyes stopped at the semi-circular key in her hand.

“You girls, come in.”

The living room does not have a TV. On the wall hang pictures of a dam, a bridge and a group of young engineers. An recognized his father standing in the back row, his face still full, smiling towards the camera.

Loc poured water, but no one drank.

“I want to ask about September 12,” An said.

"I know."

“He said my father didn't open the sewer first.”

"I told Bich on the phone. That doesn't mean I want to say it again."

“If you don't say anything, today's data will continue to be edited.”

Loc looked up. “You think you can fix a city with a few audio files?”

"No. But I can prove that people are using natural disasters to take land."

“Tan Giang is not the only company.”

“But they have access to RiverEye.”

Loc looked at Bich. “How much did you tell?”

“Enough for you to know we didn't come out of curiosity.”

He sighed and walked to the wooden cabinet. After a book on hydraulics, he took out a faded blue folder. On the cover is handwritten: "12.09 — read only when the map is changed."

“I kept it for twelve years,” Loc said. "Not because of courage. Because every time I try to throw it away, I remember the sound of people screaming at the foot of the dike."

An opens the file. The first page is a diagram of the Lower Basin, with three sewer lines and a cross-hatched area under the North Bank. The caption reads: “Do not open without moving the field hospital.”

“Where did the regulatory order come from that day?”

Loc put his hand on the page. "From the old Operations Center. The person on duty is Hoang Nam."

An and Bich both looked up.

“Nam was not the one who signed the final order,” Loc said. "But he entered the water level number into the system. The data showed 3.4 meters of water at station six, while my hand gauge showed 2.9. He said the transmitter was slow."

“Mr. Nam used to work as my father's assistant,” An said.

“Once was a student.”

“So why did he get promoted?”

"Because someone needs a young engineer to testify that Mr. Vu arbitrarily changed the order."

An turned to the next version. There is a time table, many lines have been crossed out with a black pen. At the bottom of the page, her father's handwriting: "Nam did not know that valve number 3 had opened first. The person who opened it was Duy."

“What did Duy do at that time?”

"Private drainage project director. No authority to open the valve."

“But he did?”

“Someone saw it.”

Loc took a black and white photo. In the photo, a young man stands next to a sewer cabin. The face is blurry, but the arc-shaped silver ring is very clear.

“Duy is not president yet,” Loc said. “He was the one taking orders from a group that wanted the North Shore to be cheaper.”

Bich opened the book. “Who gave the orders?”

"No name on file. Just one letter: N."

An looked at the diagram. “N could be Nam?”

Loc shook his head. "Nam was only twenty-nine years old at that time. N's signature is on the land purchase appendix, not the regulatory file."

An pulled out the last sheet of paper. A valve delivery note, dated September 11, reads: “Additional installed pressure simulator at Milestone 13.”

“Mark 13 used to be a pressure measuring device?”

“It is a reference device. Only your father, I and the person in charge of the warehouse know.”

“Why not bring it into the case?”

Loc was silent.

“You destroyed it?”

"Are not. Someone else destroyed the file.”

An looked at his father's photo. “You said you kept the records for twelve years. But why is there an original at Mark 13?”

“Because your father doesn't trust me.”

“Or he doesn't believe in himself.”

Loc looked at her longer. “You are like him in that you always look for mistakes before looking for reasons.”

“I need to know what this key opens.”

“A spare pressure box under the pier foundation. But you shouldn't take it out alone. If there is a magnetic lock, someone will receive the signal.”

“You know there is a magnetic lock?”

“I know because I'm an installer.”

Bich suddenly asked: "Who called you last night?"

Loc turned to her. “I didn't call anyone.”

“I told you that your father did not open the sluice first.”

“I spoke on the phone.”

“From what number?”

Loc did not answer. Bich opened her laptop and showed him the call log. The calling number is a prepaid SIM, but the broadcasting location is in the Operations Center.

“Someone used your phone to call,” Bich said.

Loc stood up. He went to the window and opened the curtain. There were no cars on the street, only a delivery person cycling past.

“You guys have to leave.”

“It's not done yet,” An said.

“I've given you enough to understand you're dealing with a network. Don't make my house the next destination.”

Loc tore a piece of paper from the notebook, wrote the address of the old water plant and one sentence: "Don't open the valve when the signal light is white."

An held the paper. “What does that mean?”

“You'll understand when you get there.”

On the way to the car, Bich stopped by An. “I don't believe this person told everything.”

“Neither do I.”

“How much do you think he was telling the truth?”

“Enough to scare me.”

Before they could open the car door, a black sedan stopped across the street. The back door opened and a woman wearing a suit stepped out. She wasn't wearing a name tag, just holding a thick envelope.

“Miss Lam,” the woman called. “I'm Ha, Tan Giang legal department.”

“I don't have a work schedule with the company.”

“This is an invitation to cooperate, not a summons.”

Ha gave the envelope. An did not accept.

“What if I don't get it?”

“You can still read.”

“I do not accept documents outside the process.”

Ha smiled thinly. “Including a proposal to extend the contract, triple the consulting fee and transfer her from the North Coast category. You just need to confirm that Milestone 13 is not within the scope of acceptance.”

“What if I don't confirm?”

“You will be responsible for any statements that affect the value of the project.”

An looked at the envelope. “You guys are so scared of an old mold that you pay three times as much?”

“We are afraid of a young professional getting caught up in the past.”

“The old story is lying under the road you built.”

Ha placed the envelope on the roof of the car and then returned to the sedan. The car drove away, leaving behind a strong smell of gasoline.

Bich picked up the envelope. “Can I open it?”

"Are not. Have your lawyer check it out.”

An called Khoi. He picked up the phone after the first ring.

“What's wrong?”

“I need to get to Milestone 13 tonight.”

"Impossible. The tide is turning.”

“I have the key to the box under the pillar.”

“Not even better.”

“Do you want to know how your sister died?”

Khoi shut up. An knew she had just touched a place she shouldn't have touched, but she didn't back down.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “But if we wait, they will take the equipment.”

“Eight o'clock in the evening. I brought the boat over.”

At the auxiliary berth, Khoi checked the rope anchor and signal lights. He gave An a walkie-talkie.

“If there are people on shore, do not turn on the white light.”

“Loc also said that.”

Khoi looked up. "Loc is still alive but still talks more than the dead."

They followed the canal in the city lights. Milestone 13 appears behind the row of reeds, this time without a wire mesh. A small light on the pillar is flashing white.

Khoi turned off the phone immediately.

“White light,” An said.

“No one should turn it on at night.”

From the other bank, the sound of an electronic speaker rang out, a mechanical voice repeating drill warnings. The water needle on Mark 13 began to move up even though the canal surface was almost flat.

An took the key. At the base of the pillar there is a small cast iron cover, just enough for the semi-circular lock. She inserted the key and turned it half a turn.

A clicking sound rang out in the ground.

Immediately after that, all the lights on the North Bank went out.

Khoi held An's wrist. “Something just started.”

From under the water, a stream of white foam emerged around the pillar's body. The chemical smell is mild but distinct, like the smell of chlorine mixed with hot metal.

An looked at the water needle. It jumped from 2.47 to 2.63 in less than a minute.

Underneath the cast iron lid, an old recording voice automatically plays:

“If this mark glows, door number three is open.”

Khoi turned his head upstream. In the distance, a loud valve moved, as deep as the sound of a tugboat.

An understood that the rehearsal had ended a long time ago. Others just didn't know the real flood had begun.

An and Khoi did not turn on the valve immediately. They turned the boat back to the dock, carrying white light images and recording valve sounds. Bich receives data, puts them in an encrypted folder and then writes them to two different drives.

“Are you sure?” Khoi asked.

“Maybe what?”

“I'm sure the person on the tape was talking about today, not the old file that was reconstructed.”

An opens the hidden information section of the file. The recording time is 21:13, but the audio encoder uses equipment that was only produced last year.

“New file,” she said. “The old voice is merged into the new valve sound.”

“So someone is using your father as a guide.”

“Or my father left behind a way to tell.”

Bich placed a map on the table. Twelve RiverEye stations are located in an arc, while Marker 13 is located outside the circle as a blind spot. There is a thin line connecting Milestone 13 with warehouse No. 4 and the auxiliary dam.

“This is an old maintenance line,” Bich said. “If you follow, you can reach valve control panel number three without going through the main road.”

Khoi looked at the thin line. "I once took Thao here. Before she passed away, she said she saw Duy's car at the sluice gate."

An looked up. “Why didn't you tell me?”

"Because I don't know what she saw. A memory is not evidence."

“But it is the direction.”

Khoi turned to An. “Do you always turn other people's pain into direction?”

An was stopped by the question. She wanted to object, but in her father's notebook there was an entire city written with pain. She didn't know if she was looking for the truth or looking for a way to make everyone suffer along with her family.

“I won't use Thao's name if you don't want to,” An said.

Khoi looked out at the water. "Use it. But don't make her the only reason."

They returned to Milestone 13 when the white light went out. An opened the cylinder cover and placed the recorder next to the mechanical buoy. The water needle stands at 2.63. Every time the valve sounded in the distance, the needle moved a few more inches.

An counted the gap between the sounds: thirteen seconds, then thirteen seconds. Cycle is not a task name. It is the valve opening rhythm.

“If they open it thirteen times?” Bich ask.

“The pressure will be transmitted to the auxiliary dam.”

“And the North Shore?”

“Flooded.”

Khoi used a pole to measure the bottom of the canal. "There is still a small sewer under the bank. The water does not flow in its natural direction."

An recorded. They waited until the water needle touched 2.71 and then closed the lid. On the clock face, a new red line appeared that was not there last night.

That line is next to the letter 13, like someone is marking the second measurement.

An sent the photo to Nam. He replied after a minute: "Don't let anyone touch the mark. I will come."

An knew from that moment, the investigation was no longer about her and Bich. It has pulled people in the center out of their comfort zone.

As they left the shore, a truck with its lights off ran parallel on the road. Khoi did not speed up, just changed direction into the narrow canal. The car stopped and did not continue.

Bich looked at the car's silhouette through the dust and rain. “They are learning to be patient.”

An looked at the water needle in the handheld machine. “So are we.”