Overgrowth

Chapter 4: Biosecurity Screening

The train had derailed less than an hour from the Ninth Agricultural Research Base. After roughly forty minutes on the road, the rescue convoy arrived.

During the ride, Jo Ji-won had used her wrist terminal to build a rough understanding of the world.

Compared with the life she remembered, this new world was filled with danger. Agricultural workers could die at any moment. Their elevated social position had been purchased at an enormous cost.

Ji-won did not dwell on her own safety. Instead, she found herself wondering what caused plants to mutate in the first place.

An occupational habit, perhaps.

She did not even notice herself doing it.

When the vehicles stopped and everyone was ordered out, Ji-won deliberately stayed near Ha Min-jae. His excessive friendliness made him unlikely to question her behavior too closely, which made him the best person from whom to learn this world’s rules.

Once the last student disembarked, the rescue vehicles drove away, leaving thousands of young people and their suitcases outside the base.

A ten-meter silver-gray gate towered over them. Gold lettering across the metal read:

NINTH AGRICULTURAL RESEARCH BASE

Massive walls of equal height stretched away on both sides. Armed patrols moved along the top, giving the fortifications the appearance of an ancient city wall rebuilt in steel.

Ji-won studied the ground beneath her feet. It resembled poured concrete, but some other material had been mixed into it. Black circular plates were embedded at regular intervals.

All incoming students, form lines for biosecurity screening and enter in order.

The same mechanical female voice used on the train sounded from the wall. Here, however, it was calm and measured rather than urgent.

“Once screening is done, they’ll assign our rooms,” Min-jae said, looking back at Ji-won. “Have you decided where you want to live?”

She frowned. “Aren’t the rooms assigned?”

His expression said he had expected that answer.

Min-jae angled his body toward her, tapped his wrist terminal, and lowered his voice. “I asked around before coming. Officially, the system assigns free housing. But we can pay points for better rooms. After screening, when the housing notice appears, choose decline. That opens a second selection.”

“What can you choose the second time?”

Min-jae pushed up his sleeve, visibly preparing to give a full lecture.

“The residential center has three rings. The outer ring is closest to the cultivation zone, which makes it the most dangerous. Twelve buildings, ten floors each, fifteen rooms per floor, two people per room. All first-years.”

He continued, “The middle ring has eight buildings for second-years. Same room layout, but the buildings aren’t full. First-years can buy the empty places.”

He paused deliberately.

Ji-won caught the look he gave her. “And the inner ring?”

“One circular tower, fifty floors.” Min-jae pointed into the base. “Apparently we’ll be able to see it as soon as we go in. The instructors, third- and fourth-years, and Defense Corps personnel all live there.”

Ji-won understood at once. The inner tower had to be the safest building in the base.

“If you’re lucky, the paid selection will put you with an upper-year student,” Min-jae said eagerly. “You might even get advice from them. I’m buying a place in the middle ring.”

It was a sensible choice. The middle ring offered access to experienced students and the protection of the outer residential buildings.

Ji-won was tempted.

As the line advanced, Min-jae added, “First-years only pay one thousand points a month. It’s not that expensive.”

The screening moved quickly. More than half the students had already entered while they spoke. Soon it was Min-jae’s turn.

Ji-won remained outside and watched him place his suitcase on a scanning belt. He stopped within a frame resembling an airport security gate, though no one searched him. Instead, blue light swept repeatedly over his body.

This must be the screening procedure.

Ji-won opened her terminal and searched for the term.

Biosecurity screening: mandatory inspection before entry into a base. Detects undeclared seed, plant matter, and related biological material.

“You. Come forward,” a guard called.

Ji-won copied Min-jae. She placed her suitcase on the belt and stood inside the scanner.

After a moment, the guard waved her through.

She collected her suitcase and approached the silver gate. Everyone stopped briefly at a screen on the left side. When Ji-won reached it, she raised her wrist and held the face of her terminal toward the reader.

Her information appeared.

Name: Jo Ji-won

Age: 20

Sex: Female

Program: Agronomy

Accept assigned housing?

YES / NO

Remembering Min-jae’s instructions, Ji-won selected NO without hesitation.

A red notification immediately filled the screen.

INSUFFICIENT BALANCE. PLEASE CONFIRM.

Ji-won stared.

A sense of foreboding came over her.

She closed the warning and searched until she found her balance.

88 points.

The tiny black number radiated enormous mockery.

Min-jae was waiting on the other side of the gate.

“Well?” he asked as soon as she entered. “I was right, wasn’t I? There aren’t many middle-ring rooms. Most people don’t know about them.”

Ji-won nodded in silence.

“Two-five-five-fifteen,” he said. “That’s my room. Which building are you in?”

Expressionless, Ji-won lifted her wrist and showed him the assignment.

3-11-111

Min-jae stared at it. “Why are you still in the outer ring?”

The first digit represented the residential ring: one for inner, two for middle, three for outer.

“I think the outer ring sounds perfectly good.”

Ji-won would rather die than admit she could not afford anything else.

In her previous life, money had never seriously worried her. Her parents had not been wealthy, but Ji-won excelled academically. Her schools waived tuition and gave her scholarships under one name or another. At university, her adviser demanded an exhausting amount of work, but the research projects paid well.

This was the first time Jo Ji-won had ever been this poor.

Eighty-eight.

At least it was considered a lucky number.

“Defense Corps patrols run every day,” Min-jae said, trying to reassure her. “Even the outer residences are some distance from the cultivation zone. You don’t need to worry too much.”

He had been inside the base for only a few minutes, yet he had already acquired a map of the residential buildings.

“Look. Outer Building Eleven is directly in front of Middle Building Five.”

Ji-won gave the map a distracted glance.

Ever since seeing her balance, she had begun to suspect that this body belonged to the other group Min-jae had described: people with nothing left, gambling their lives at an agricultural base for the chance to survive.

“Let’s add each other as contacts,” Min-jae said. “It’ll be easier to stay in touch.”

Ji-won agreed.

Rescue vehicles were waiting inside. Once every student had passed screening and received a room assignment, they boarded again and were driven toward the residential district.

Min-jae had been right about the inner tower. It dominated the base from a distance, broad as well as tall, with helicopters parked across its roof.

The residential rings occupied the center of the base. Beyond them spread enormous fields. Many lay empty. Here and there, people stood at the edges operating unfamiliar machines while Defense Corps patrols moved between them with rifles held ready.

As the vehicles continued inward, glass greenhouses began to appear. A sign stood outside each one.

Ji-won saw crop names on some. Others listed chicks, ducklings, fish fry, and different livestock programs.

The base resembled the agricultural college she remembered.

For the first time since waking, Ji-won felt something familiar. Whether or not she had wanted a life in agriculture, its knowledge had been carved into her bones.

There were differences, however.

No one had organized an orientation.

From the gate to the moment they reached the residences, no guide or instructor had accompanied them. The first-years were simply deposited among the outer buildings, where they crowded together in noisy confusion.

Only after one student began dragging a suitcase toward a numbered building did the others gradually disperse and search for their own rooms.

Large numbers marked every building, making navigation simple. Ji-won had already seen Min-jae’s map. It did not take her long to find Building Eleven on the western side.

She stopped outside Room 111 and touched the face of her wrist terminal to the door handle.

The lock opened.

Inside were two loft beds, each positioned above a desk, and a private bathroom. Two large bundles sat in one corner. A small speaker had been mounted on the wall.

There was nothing else.

Ji-won pulled out the chair on the right and sat down. Bending forward, she covered her face with both hands as though she could bury herself there and shut out the entire world.

After a while, she accepted her fate and opened the suitcase.

It contained two changes of clothes, a white towel, an insulated cup, a notebook, and one pen.

Ji-won had hoped the notebook might hold useful information—a diary, perhaps.

Every page was blank.

Cleaner than her account balance.

The door beeped and opened from outside.

A young woman entered. When she saw Ji-won, she smiled.

“Are you taking the bed on the right?”

Ji-won looked at her, then at the chair she had pulled out.

“Either one is fine.”

“Then I’ll take this side.”

The newcomer set her suitcase beside the left desk. She seemed to smile instinctively; two dimples appeared whenever she did.

She offered her hand.

“I’m Dong Ha-neul. Looks like we’re roommates.”

Ji-won stood, shook her hand, and released it.

“Jo Ji-won.”

“I wonder when classes start.” Longing shone in Ha-neul’s eyes. “I heard the base gives every student one free choice of seed when the term begins. We only get the benefit once.”

Ji-won did not know what that meant, so the news stirred little emotion.

Ha-neul opened a photograph on her terminal and showed it to Ji-won.

“My grandmother left this behind. I became an agricultural student because I want to grow this flower.”

Ji-won recognized it immediately.

A Rainbow Climber rose.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Ha-neul asked, eyes shining.

Ji-won’s gaze moved from those bright eyes to the dimples in her cheeks.

She gave a vague nod.

Rose growers had a famous saying about the Rainbow Climber.

From a distance: Wow.

Up close: What the hell?