The Algorithm of Spring

94

Jun-ho stepped forward, the last thread of restraint snapping. "And that justifies accessing her private medical records? Using her Beijing procedure against her?"

Richards frowned. "That was never part of the original design. The medical integration came later, after the government got more involved. I advised against that level of intrusion."

"But you didn't stop it," Maya said. "You took your payment and looked away."

For the first time, something like real discomfort crossed Richards' face. "Systems evolve beyond their creators' intentions. HarmoniQ grew into what the world demanded. With or without my consent."

"And yet you're still here, still benefiting from it," Maya said. "Still defending it."

Richards fell silent, something unreadable crossing his features.

"What do you want from me?" he asked finally. "A confession? An apology? Neither changes anything."

"I want clarity, Alan — and I want people to see what HarmoniQ really is."

Richards exchanged another glance with Professor Kim. "The truth is rarely what people want. Most users are grateful for HarmoniQ's guidance. They prefer not to know the mechanisms behind their happiness."

"That's not your decision to make," Maya countered. "People deserve to know when they're being manipulated."

Richards considered her for a long moment, then sighed. "You know, I once painted with that same certainty—that absolute conviction that my vision was correct. It's... admirable, if misguided."

Richards grabbed a cocktail napkin from a nearby tray and pulled out a pen. After quickly writing something down, he folded the napkin and moved to pass it to Maya. But Professor Kim intercepted his arm mid-motion, giving him a withering look. Her fingers closed around his wrist with controlled force, a gesture meant only for him. Richards hesitated, then slipped the napkin into his trouser pocket.

Maya's eyes darted between the napkin and Professor Kim's hand still gripping his arm.

Professor Kim's voice cut in, low and sharp. "Alan—"

A warning, not a plea.

Professor Kim released his arm and gestured that it was time for them to move on. "It's done," Richards said, turning away from Maya. "Whatever justice you imagine — it's too late."

Jia and Min-ah appeared at Richards' sides, their gallery attendant uniforms suddenly seeming less like student jobs and more like disguises. They guided him back toward the main exhibition space, responding to Professor Kim's subtle nod. Professor Kim lingered, her expression troubled.

"For what it's worth, Maya," she said quietly, "I did try to protect you. My reports emphasised your creative potential, not your vulnerability."

"That doesn't make it better," Maya replied. "You betrayed my trust."

"I chose the canvas I was given, Maya," she said, her voice devoid of its usual warmth. "Neutrality is a myth. Someone always paints the frame. Purity is a luxury — not a strategy."

She followed Richards and her students, leaving Maya and Jun-ho alone in the corner of the mezzanine gallery. The power dynamic had shifted — they were inside the composition now, not looking at it. Professor Kim wasn't just complicit, she was orchestrating.

The folded napkin remained a mystery Maya hadn't been allowed to solve.