The Orphan Master's Son_ A Novel - Adam Johnson [122]
“The last thing I remember was the flash of that camera again. I was facedown, there was blood everywhere.” For a moment Comrade Buc was silent—the whole room was quiet, nothing but the sound of urine trickling downhill. Then Buc asked, “Is my family alive?”
This is where the Pubyok are better at handling some things.
“I have prepared myself,” Comrade Buc said.
“The answer is no,” we said. We moved Buc out of the water and re-chained him uphill. Then we began gathering our gear and heading for the ladders. His eyes were looking inward, a look we’re trained to recognize as a signifier of sincerity, since it’s nearly impossible to fake. True self-searching cannot be imitated.
Then Buc looked up. “I will look at the file,” he said.
We held it out to him. “Be careful,” we warned. “There is a photo.”
He paused, at the cusp of taking the folder.
We said, “The investigator said it was probably carbon monoxide poisoning. They were found in the dining room, near the heater, where they were all overtaken, before succumbing together.”
“My daughters,” Comrade Buc said. “Were they wearing white dresses?”
“One question,” we said. “That was the deal. Unless you want to help us understand why Commander Ga pulled this stunt with the actress?”
Comrade Buc said, “Commander Ga didn’t have anything to do with the missing actress—he went into Prison 33 and didn’t come out. He died down there in the mine.” Buc then cocked his head at us. “Wait, which Commander Ga are you talking about? There are two of them, you know. The Commander Ga who gave me the scar is dead.”
“You were talking about the real Commander Ga?” we asked. “Why would the false Commander Ga apologize for what the real Commander Ga did to you?”
“He apologized?”
“The imposter told us he was sorry for your scar, for what he did to you.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Buc said. “Commander Ga has nothing to be sorry for. He gave me the thing I wanted most, the one thing I couldn’t procure for myself.”
“And what was that?” we asked.
“Why, he killed the real Commander Ga, of course.”
We all exchanged a glance. “So in addition to killing the actress and her children, you’re saying he killed a DPRK commander as well?”
“He didn’t kill Sun Moon and her children. Ga turned them into little birds and taught them a sad song. Then they flew away toward sunset, to a place where you’ll never find them.”
We suddenly wondered if it wasn’t true, if the actress and her children weren’t in hiding someplace. Ga was alive, wasn’t he? But who had her, where was she being held? It was easy to make somebody disappear in North Korea. But making them reappear—who has that kind of magic?
“If you helped us, we would find a way to help you,” we told Buc.
“Help you? My family is gone, my friends are gone, I’m gone. I won’t ever help you.”
“Okay,” we said and began gathering our gear. It was late and we were wiped.
I’d noticed that Comrade Buc was wearing a wedding ring, one made of gold. I told Jujack to take it.
Jujack looked back with trepidation, then took Buc’s hand and tried to shimmy it off.
“It’s too tight,” Jujack said.
“Hey,” Comrade Buc said. “Hey, that’s all I have left of them, of my wife and daughters.”
“Come on,” I told Jujack. “The subject doesn’t need it anymore.”
Q-Kee hefted the bolt cutters. “I’ll get that ring off,” she said.
“I hate you,” Comrade Buc said. He twisted hard, cutting skin, and then the ring was in my pocket. We turned to go.
“I won’t ever tell you anything,” Comrade Buc yelled at us. “You have no power over me now, nothing. Do you hear me? I’m free now. You have no power over me. Are you listening to me?”
One by one, we began climbing the rungs that led out of the sump. They were slippery and required caution.
“Eleven years,” Comrade Buc called out, his voice echoing off the wet cement. “Eleven years I procured for those prisons. The uniforms come in children’s sizes, you know. I’ve ordered thousands of them. They even make a half-sized pickax. Do you have children? For eleven years, the prison doctors order no bandages and the cooks