The Algorithm of Spring

95

Outside the Shilla, the evening air carried an unexpected bite. Maya and Jun-ho walked quickly away from the hotel, both of them knowing not to speak until they put some distance between themselves and the gallery.

"What just happened?" Jun-ho asked finally as they descended the steep driveway.

Maya didn't hear him. Her mind kept replaying the moment Professor Kim's expression shifted — not guilt, but calculation. She was locked in a thousand-yard stare, thoughts racing, her mind fracturing around what she'd just witnessed. Her legs carried her on instinct alone; the rest of her was elsewhere, reeling.

"Contact Min-seo," Maya said without looking his way.

Min-seo answered on the first ring. "What the hell has been happening? I've been monitoring security chatter—everything spiked citywide about twenty minutes ago."

Maya grabbed the device from Jun-ho, desperate to voice the questions flooding her mind. "Did it work?" she asked, pulling the digital skimmer from the discreet lining of her dress.

"It's still working—processing something, definitely. Did you activate it within three feet like I told you?"

"It looks like it absorbed the contents of two devices. Not just one."

Jun-ho and Maya exchanged a look that was as close to a smile as either could manage.

"Let us know the moment you have the data."

"At least we confirmed his involvement," Jun-ho offered. "And Professor Kim's."

The confirmation of Professor Kim's betrayal hit her anew, sharper this time. She thought about Min-ju working in Richards' studio, how she'd come out criticising him, belittling Maya's obsession with his work—about how Maya had defended him at every turn, passing it off as bitterness that she had won the Florence scholarship. She thought of them both and all her classmates, every conversation about their struggles and ambitions.

"I told her things I never told anyone else." Her voice tightened. "When I came back from Beijing, confused and hurt, she sat there listening to me pour out my heart whilst she must have been taking mental notes for her reports."

"Maya—"

"She gaslit me with compassion. Every reassurance was ammunition she handed straight back to them."

Jun-ho touched her shoulder gently. "We need to keep moving. They'll know by now that we were there."

As if confirming his words, a sleek black car turned the corner ahead, moving slowly as if searching. Jun-ho pulled Maya into a side alley, pressing against the wall as the vehicle passed. The damp stone breathed cold against her back. Through the tinted windows, Maya caught a glimpse of someone holding a tablet—likely displaying facial recognition results. A soft pulse of blue light flickered across the interior — scanning, cycling, searching.

"Min-seo can meet us at the backup location," he said, checking his device as messages from Min-seo flooded in. "We shouldn't use public transport tonight."

"What did she find out about the gallery's guest list? Any other names we should know about?"

"Half the Digital Affairs Ministry was there. Executives from all of the chaebols. And Professor Kim wasn't the only academic—Min-seo flagged at least six department heads consulting on integration policy."

The scope of complicity was staggering. "We didn't crash an exhibition," she murmured. "We crashed a summit. Every decision-maker with influence over HarmoniQ was in that room."

As they made their way through back streets, avoiding main thoroughfares and surveillance cameras, Maya felt the full scope of what they were facing. This wouldn't be a clean victory, a single decisive battle. It would be a long campaign against a system with deep roots, powerful backers, and years of careful development.

"How do we fight something that's everywhere and nowhere?" Jun-ho asked, as if reading her thoughts. "We can't just keep exposing individual pieces of the conspiracy."

Maya considered this as they navigated narrow alleys between residential buildings. "We need to change the conversation. Right now, people see HarmoniQ as a helpful service that occasionally overreaches. We need them to understand it as a fundamental threat to human autonomy."

"How?"

"We need to reach people who haven't been exposed to the initial revelations. Make the manipulation visible in ways that can't be explained away." She paused. "And we need to find other artists, other technologists who are willing to stand up. This can't be the three of us alone."

In the distance, sirens wailed—probably unrelated to them, but a reminder nonetheless that the city's systems were alert and watching. Jun-ho's device buzzed with another message from Min-seo.

"Security protocol activations have tripled," he said. "She says it's like the entire surveillance infrastructure just went to high alert."

"Because of us?"

"Partly. But she thinks something bigger is happening. Government communications are heavily encrypted tonight, and there's unusual activity around several tech company headquarters."

Maya felt a chill that had nothing to do with the evening air. "They're not responding to our gallery appearance alone. They're preparing for something."

"We need to reach Min-seo quickly," Jun-ho said, checking their position on his device. "Two more blocks."

They continued moving, two figures navigating Seoul's labyrinthine back streets whilst the city's digital nervous system pulsed with heightened alertness around them. Maya thought about Richards standing in that gleaming exhibition, his art admired whilst his true creation prepared to tighten its grip on society. She thought about Professor Kim, who had weaponised trust and mentorship in service of surveillance. She thought about the complex web of technology, government, and corporate interests.

The challenge ahead was immense—far greater than she had initially understood. Tonight had stripped away every illusion she still carried — about HarmoniQ, about Professor Kim, about resistance. What remained wasn't clarity. It was resolve.