Mystery & suspense Episode 23

The Thirteen-Minute Instruction

1,601 words · English edition

Created with AI assistance

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The timetable’s thirteen minutes did not mean walking an empty corridor.

Seorin examined the span from main-entrance confirmation to a response check in the connecting section. It included parking, comparing entrants, and contacting site staff: a temporary inspection plan for rescue and movement-support vehicles.

It was the morning of November 6, in the company meeting room. Yesterday, only the first page had arrived. Now she could examine its application and transmission details. The public receiving officer’s copy carried a document number and revision history preceding actual implementation.

“Does it mean exactly thirteen minutes every time?” Doun asked.

“No. The planned interval. We examine actual entry records separately.”

She spread two papers: the plan and a permitted photograph of Jeongu’s checking sheet. Thirteen minutes on one, 780 seconds on the other. Converting units made them equal. They already knew that; they did not yet know whether both values shared a reason.

Doun opened the equipment delivery statement instead of a calculator. Its setting-value field was blank. Delay capability was documented, but nothing established thirteen minutes as selected at delivery.

“So the equality doesn’t come from a default.”

“We’ll get equipment documentation for that too.”

She asked the supplier, without powering the preserved device or changing its settings. Within the model and delivery specifications already checked by preservation staff, she wanted to know whether the value was fixed beforehand.

The supplier replied that factory dispatch had delay disabled; an operator selected a value within the permitted range. Actual entry at an individual site required site records. Seorin removed DEFAULT VALUE from her hypotheses and added the reason.

A specified value.

To distinguish coincidence from a link to the inspection interval, they needed the transmitted document. She did not immediately phone Jeongu. Yesterday had established consultation and submission routes. Finishing her own checks faster did not authorize opening another route to him.

The organization relayed his current answer: after the next consultation, he would decide what original instructions to submit. Waiting, Seorin read the entire operation attachment approved for company viewing. A small reference on the timetable’s reverse caught her attention.

SURVEILLANCE CONTINUITY SETTINGS: REFER TO SEPARATE IMPLEMENTATION AGREEMENT.

She remembered first hearing CONTINUITY OF SURVEILLANCE in the office at Eundam: keeping screens running until areas still in use were empty. Whose areas, and where, remained unfinished questions.

The relevant agreement pages arrived after lunch, supplied with their custodian’s dispatch list. Doun reached for a stapler, then changed to paper clips, keeping the received bundle’s page count visible. Seorin watched him attach and remove a clip twice.

“There’s time.”

“Paper goes faster when you take it slowly.”

He opened the last page.

A short sentence occupied its middle.

APPLY A DELAY EQUAL TO THE ENTRY-CHECK CONFIRMATION INTERVAL.

Beside it was the conversion: 780 seconds. Its target was the Channel 4 relay path, rather than every main-entrance camera. Seorin read the management number without tracing the line with her finger. It matched the preserved device.

For a moment, she could not speak. The first day’s measurement had shown a real delay, rather than an accidentally wrong clock. Now she had the paper stating why thirteen minutes. The screen shown to someone entering to check had been pushed backward by the interval used for that person’s checks.

Yet the document did not contain every actor’s mind. One line called it inspection convenience; another field omitted which conditions were to be checked. She did not crop out a single sentence and send it alone.

“The inspection interval was the basis for the choice.”

“Doesn’t that mean they stopped inspectors seeing?” Doun asked quickly.

“It could have that effect. We need related material showing who knew it, and what it actually concealed.”

She was not merely stopping his question. The same answer was completing itself too quickly inside her: device setting, wrong room name, vacancy confirmation, payment under another name. Writing all of them as one plan on one sheet would be convenient.

She placed papers at opposite ends of the desk, labeling one PRESENT and the other SCREEN. With a hypothetical entry time, she advanced the present thirteen minutes. The screen stayed at its earlier position. This altered neither original equipment nor actual video. It explained what was delayed.

“Call main-entrance entry T. At T plus thirteen minutes, the connecting-section screen shows the connecting section at T. That could be before the inspector reached that section.”

She moved the person marker on the present side. The screen paper remained still.

“Then they’d believe it empty,” Doun said.

“It depends whether someone was there then, and where the camera pointed. The device doesn’t guarantee an image without people.”

They removed EMPTY from the diagram. Delay could defeat a present-time check without erasing every past event. It had, in fact, retained Haeun’s appearance long enough for Seorin to see. Even an intentional arrangement had not perfectly controlled the result.

A vehicle support officer added an explanation. The plan allowed thirteen minutes to prevent contact checks from being skipped. Actual trips varied with the movement of people needing help and waits at the entrance. Two masked entry records showed one shorter and one longer interval.

Seorin moved her person marker again. Increasing the interval they had assumed would follow the plan changed the relation between the displayed past and the on-site sequence. A fixed delay could not avoid every vehicle equally.

“Maybe whoever instructed it trusted the plan too much,” Doun said.

“We need to ask how each person understood the table too.”

She recorded the question. An imperfect method was no less dangerous. Someone entering to rescue could believe the screen current while it ran late without explanation. The gap mattered beyond days when the journey happened to take exactly thirteen minutes.

She changed the diagram title from RECONSTRUCTION OF THE OFFENSE to EXPLANATION OF DELAY EFFECT. She had named something she had not reconstructed yet.

Doun watched the blank space for a long time.

“Without that line, that picture might never have arrived.”

“Possibly. It doesn’t make leaving an unreported cable a good thing.”

“I know. Nor does it mean I made all of it.”

He laid his old work sheet beside the diagram. Seorin felt the size of answers they could give each other change a little. They could look together without her covering his hand with reassurance that everything was all right.

Eungyeong joined by phone that afternoon. She did not claim the agreement was unfamiliar. There might have been material received while coordinating site operations, she said. Rather than prompting her memory, Seorin read the listed recipient route.

“It went through site Business Support. We request who confirmed final application.”

“The computer assistant handled settings, as I understand it.”

“We’re asking separately about entering the value, and selecting and transmitting it.”

Eungyeong would reply after checking documents. Seorin recorded that answer. Naming the working assistant did not remove the instruction’s higher route. A name higher up did not prove everyone knew the same things either.

After the call, the receiving officer confirmed that the agreement’s actual distribution and receipt preceded October 26. That did not establish standard time for entry into the device. Its uncalibrated 17:56 display and the actual input-location change time remained separate.

Seorin stopped before laying the device photograph over the dated paper. Matching number, matching value, earlier instruction: the connection had strengthened. Grounds for converting every time to one clock had not appeared.

The support organization supplied Little Window’s next consultation time. Payment comparisons continued, awaiting further authorization material and actual processing history. Seorin did not relay today’s explanation of thirteen minutes as a payment conclusion. Both same-name women’s objections continued under their own numbers.

Doun, who had missed lunch, put a small insulated flask on the desk. It held tea from Haeun’s mother. Seorin first covered the permitted records, then fetched cups. Opening the lid released a grain scent.

“How many minutes until we drink this?”

“We’ll see whether it’s hot.”

They stood by the window with their cups. Outside, people opened umbrellas. Seorin rested her eyes, trying not to see witnesses to times or routes in every passerby. Finding one answer a day did not permit turning someone’s whole day into an inquiry.

After tea, she finished the summary. The 780 seconds was not a fixed device default. A separate implementation agreement specified delay matching rescue and movement-support vehicles’ planned entry-check interval. Actual setting, input-location changes, people using the effect, and responsibility for confinement needed further checking.

She did not describe Jeongu’s paper as the agreement’s original. He had called it a checking sheet copied from received instructions. Today’s material was a separate custodian’s agreement copy and distribution history. Original-log submission remained for another appointment after consultation.

Toward evening, the preservation officer confirmed the designated desk’s receipt of both sealed warehouse objects. There was no result on original stored contents yet. Seorin told Doun the objects had arrived without saying their footage survived.

As he packed, he pointed to the final page. It belonged to a linked disposal-and-remnants attachment, rather than the setting agreement they had just examined.

REVIEW. IMPLEMENTATION. CONFIRMATION.

She had thought the three fields ended inside the contractor. The last led to another department. The person’s name was masked on the viewing copy, leaving only a role.

COMMISSIONING OPERATIONS OFFICER.

Seorin did not crop and magnify the field. To learn who approved what, she needed the preceding original text more than a way to uncover the hidden name.

She wrote its document number in the next viewing request. Who had decided to discard the material? Nobody had yet put that same question to this approval.

End of episode 23

This is the latest English episode. Further release dates have not been announced.

Written by Grapheme · Published by Aldus Libris

Created with AI assistance