Beatless: Volume 1

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Beatless: Volume 1 Page 15

by Satoshi Hase


  “Your buddy’s old man, Kozo Endo, has created a prototype android chairman for use in the Diet’s Assembly, which will be coming to Tokyo. You’ll be destroying it,” Kouka said.

  All the blood drained from Kengo’s face.

  “You know about it, right?” she went on. “It’s pretty famous. It’s an hIE that gathers opinions from citizens using the network and questionnaires, and actually voices opinions and asks questions on the Diet floor. Apparently, it’s quite a character. Anyway, it’s an android meant to automate the aggregation of political opinions. It’s about to start up its first large-scale public test,” Kouka explained.

  “That’s terrorism!” Kengo shouted.

  “It’s just destroying an hIE,” Kouka rebutted. “Same thing we always do. Well, to be fair, the security will be pretty strict this time, so all participants will undergo training.”

  Since the last century, those who wished to manipulate the government had found they could set up fake petitioners to send their votes through the network. As a result, there had always been backlash against automating any part of the government. But there was a huge difference between busting up an hIE walking around on the street and blowing one up in a heavily guarded facility.

  “Look at that face you’re making,” Kouka said, walking over to stand beside Kengo, who was frozen in fear. Her hand, with seams like a doll might have, brushed his cheek.

  “You’re a Red Box too, aren’t you?” Kengo asked. “If Endo’s hIE is your ‘dear sister’ or whatever, you’re the same as her, right? Why is something like you throwing in with the Antibody Network?”

  “I know, isn’t it crazy? Doesn’t it make you mad? Want to bust everything up until things are the way you think they should be?” she asked.

  Kengo couldn’t tell if Kouka’s inviting smile was real or fake.

  “Then why don’t you try using me?” she asked.

  Phase4「Automatic World」

  Kengo Suguri was ordered to ride along with nine other guys. Within the automatic microbus they were all riding, no one spoke. The evening sunlight coming in through the windows seemed particularly sad to Kengo.

  That day, as soon as he had gotten home from school, Kengo had changed and left for the meeting spot where the Antibody Network vehicle would pick him up.

  Starting the week before, Kengo had ridden on that bus every day. It took him and the others to an old factory near the Edogawa River, where they conducted their training. The training menu was split up into two sections. First was running behind their leader, and stopping whenever he gave the signal. Then, they were all given rifles and told to shoot at a target just thirty meters away at a signal. Since the Antibody Network was made up of volunteers, everyone there was an amateur when it came to things like this, and their movements were awkward. Aside from Kengo, the other members were older men in ages ranging from twenties to forties, all sweating while their trainer, who apparently had military experience, shouted at them.

  Their commander was sitting in the seat nearest the only exit of the microbus, just like he did every day. But today, there was a different kind of tension in the bus. Today was the day their attack plan would be put into action.

  Kengo thought about his family, and felt like his stomach had been stuffed full of something bitter. He was being forced to participate in the attack as a penalty for unauthorized use of the Antibody Network system. He had no idea if he would be coming back alive. And even if he did, would he be able to avoid getting arrested?

  None of his fellow passengers looked happy to be there. Their faces, dripping with sweat, were frozen in hard, bitter expressions. Everyone was thinking that this could be the day they would die, and Kengo was no exception.

  “Your mission today is to attack the Oi Industry Promotion Center. The building is thirty-six stories, and the meeting room where they’re holding the experiment is on the 22nd floor. Your objective is to destroy the hIE spearheading the movement to automate our government. This hIE may not be able to fight, but let’s get one thing straight: that thing has the power to corrode human society,” their commander said. He spoke in absolutes, allowing no room for anyone to agree or disagree. He was simply reiterating the briefing they had already been given earlier.

  Outside the windows, which were covered with blackout film, Kengo saw high schoolers around his age enjoying a nice stroll through the city. He couldn’t believe he was on that bus right then, instead of out with those other kids.

  Kengo looked down at the bullet-proof combat gear he had been given. He was pretty sure this was going to be a mess; they were about to step out onto a battlefield with only the most basic of disciplinary training.

  His sister Olga’s face floated up in his mind. His mom and dad, too. They were probably working in the restaurant right then. “What the hell am I doing?” he asked.

  Some of the other men sitting in the bus turned to look at him. The air sparked with tension, as the men wordlessly admonished Kengo for his lack of conviction. He was still a high schooler, so he had to show his face at home, but everyone else there had stayed at the meeting site to work on the plan, since it had been laid out for them the night before. The Antibody Network was made up of volunteers who wanted to help destroy the hIEs that wore human forms and automated human work. They all had different backgrounds, but most of them shared the same hatred. Of course, there were probably others there who’d had their family threatened just like Kengo.

  The microbus, which had been running automatically, started to slow down.

  “It’s an inspection. Just keep calm, sit there and shut up,” the commander said from his post by the door.

  Before Kengo could get his panicked breathing under control, a uniformed police officer knocked on the microbus’s driver-side door. The window on that side slid down automatically. There was no way anyone would overlook the strangeness of Kengo and the others, all of them decked out in combat gear. Kengo shrank into himself; they were going to be arrested as terrorists, he was sure of it. A small part of his mind also chimed in that he would probably be expelled from school as well.

  But, his fears of arrest turned out to be unnecessary. The police officer poked his head in the door, gave the interior of the bus a single glance, then waved the bus through.

  Kengo’s face was dripping with sweat. From what he could see, he wasn’t the only one in the bus who thought they were done for. Under the glare of their superior, they exchanged desperate glances and seemed to find a little comfort in seeing that they weren’t the only ones who were terrified.

  The bus descended into an underground parking garage. It was dark, and all Kengo could see was a wide-open space stretching out, broken only by pillars. Route guidance was projected onto the concrete floor, and there was a van parked nearby.

  “Get off,” the commander said. “We’re commencing the mission.”

  To Kengo, it sounded like he was pronouncing a death sentence.

  “Don’t use your guns on anything but hIEs,” the commander added. After leaving his position by the door, the commander got the firearms that had been stashed in the nearby van and handed them around. The group of volunteer terrorists seemed more sorrowful than tense as they received their weapons.

  Kengo didn’t know the whole plan of attack. But he did know that there were two men there with actual soldier training, along with 10 amateurs. He had heard that the security in the Oi Industry Promotion Center was tight. He could hardly think through the nerves and excitement, and his fear was telling him the best idea might be to just hide so no one would attack him.

  Kengo told himself to stop thinking about it. Everyone there was armed now; if he chickened out, his comrades might just shoot him themselves. This whole plan of using amateurs to attack a heavily secured location was insane, but he didn’t even have his pocket terminal to call for help. Everyone’s terminals had been rounded up earlier, to prevent anyone from pulling their personal information from their ID tags.

  Ke
ngo thought about his family again. Even though he was getting involved with something illegal, he still wanted to return to his home alive after it was all over. He prayed for someone to save him. If only he had been the type to ask for help right away, like Arato always did, he probably wouldn’t have ended up in this mess. His whole body was numb with regret.

  Still, no matter how he tried to spin it, Kengo’s activities with the Antibody Network had always been a crime. Thinking about that, he felt anger boiling in his chest. He wished the police would show up before they could start their terrorist attack. Instead, the leader of their mission showed up and, when Kengo saw who it was, he felt even worse; he recognized that face. She looked like she was having the time of her life.

  “Your mission is to run up to the 22nd floor of this building. You can’t use the elevators, so good luck,” she said, standing in front of them with her dull red hair tied into two long side-tails. She was wearing a bodysuit that looked like armored underwear. It was the mysterious hIE, Kouka.

  She had on a bullet-proof tactical vest that showed far too much skin, and which was stuffed with knives and firearm magazines. The amateur terrorists were eyeing the young girl in front of them uneasily, but Kouka just kept smiling.

  “Oh, don’t worry about me. I may look under-equipped, but my whole body is a cybernetic replacement,” she lied. “All this bare skin is actually military-grade bulletproof material.” It appeared that she wasn’t going to tell them she was actually an hIE.

  The others, who had never seen a person with full-body replacement cybernetics, were obviously relieved by this explanation, and seemed to think she would be a reliable leader. Only Kengo knew the truth about her.

  Just like when she had threatened him and tossed him onto this battlefield, Kouka looked at him and grinned. “As humans, we won’t stand for them trying to automate our government,” she went on. “We won’t forgive them. That’s why we’re here today. If you see a security hIE, shoot it, because we’re the humans here.”

  The infiltration unit, who had all lined up, responded with a sharp ‘Yes, ma’am!’ Aside from that, no one said a word. Their training from the past few days, combined with the weight of the guns in their arms and the atmosphere of the place, had instilled some discipline in these amateurs.

  Japan in the 22nd century wasn’t the safe country it had once been. The Self Defense Force had returned to being an army, and the military industrial complex had revived. PMCs were often hired to provide security. As a licensed facility, this place Kengo and the others were in could easily get a hold of Class 3 hIEs, which had extremely lax controls on what kinds of equipment they could use, including firearms. It was a distinct possibility that Kengo and his fellow terrorists could die in a shootout. Kouka was driving a bunch of amateurs with guns onto a battlefield, without even explaining the armaments of the other side.

  “Just leave the dangerous guys to me,” she said confidently. “You all just focus on destroying anything that isn’t human.”

  The impromptu terrorists were pushed forward by their own hatred and senses of justice. Their feelings of disgust at a society full of hIEs had brought them to this point. Their leader, Kouka, signaled with her hands for them to follow her. Holding onto their guns, the men all followed the little red girl. Only Kengo wasn’t caught up in the heat of the moment. His whole body was shaking, and his face was pale.

  ***

  Arato stood in front of the restaurant, Sunflower. Rather than going in through the front of the restaurant, he went down an alley to the side where there was a door to the Suguri residence. Inside, behind the restaurant, as one would expect there were cardboard boxes of vegetables and other ingredients giving off a distinctive smell.

  “Man, it’s been forever since I’ve been to Olga’s house,” Yuka said, peeking her head around Arato’s side. For some reason she had decided to come along, and Arato was a little worried about her. Seeing Lacia’s kidnapping must have really scared her, since she hadn’t gone to school since and seemed to be afraid of going anywhere alone.

  “Are you okay? You’re not worried something like the kidnapping is going to happen again, are you?” he asked her.

  “Nope. Lacia came back, and I’ve eaten some delicious food since then, so I’m all better,” she responded, showing him a smile.

  Lacia, who had also come along, gently smiled back at her. “There is no cause for concern. I have not detected the presence of any suspicious persons since then,” she said.

  “See? Lacia says it’s okay, too. I don’t mind if you spoil me, but don’t turn into a helicopter parent,” Yuka said. Though she was trying to show him her resilience, her gaze kept wandering. That close to a restaurant, she was unable to resist the delicious smells drifting toward them; seeing that his sister was the same as always came as a relief.

  “Don’t go eating anything here,” Arato warned her. “It could be considered an eat-and-run.”

  “I won’t. If I wanted anything, Olga’s dad would just give it to me anyway,” Yuka responded while kicking off her shoes.

  The narrow back entryway of the Suguri household was connected to the back of the kitchen. Heading into the back of the building from the entryway, one would find the Suguris’ kitchen and living space. Olga and Kengo’s rooms were on the second floor.

  “Thank you for coming,” Olga Suguri greeted them. She had inherited her light golden hair and looks from her mom, and didn’t look like Kengo at all. Still, her weak, gentle voice did remind Arato of Kengo’s kind disposition.

  “Olga, let’s go get some tea,” Yuka said, looking back as she headed toward the Suguri family’s kitchen.

  “But...” Olga trailed off. She was shooting worried glances at Arato. Olga was a year younger than Kengo, which made her two years older than Yuka, even though she could have passed for one of Yuka’s classmates. Normally, Yuka should have been more polite to her elders, but she spoke to everyone pretty much the same.

  “Go ahead and relax and drink some tea. We’ll get things sorted out,” Arato said.

  Kengo’s little sister gave him a little bow. “I just can’t understand how Kengo is feeling, Arato,” she said.

  Arato didn’t really know what to say, so he let Lacia do the talking. The hIE addressed Olga’s concerns. “One of the possible uses of an hIE is to utilize machines that the user is not comfortable with for them. As long as the machine in question is not overly specialized, I should be able to handle it,” she said.

  But Olga seemed frightened of Lacia for some reason, and avoided meeting the hIE’s eyes.

  Yuka took Olga by the shoulder. “Okay, we’re gonna go drink some tea,” she said, pushing Olga toward the kitchen as if Yuka was the host and Olga the guest, rather than the other way around.

  Lacia smiled encouragingly at Arato, who looked apologetic. She wasn’t a human, but she followed the Japanese human custom of removing her shoes before entering the house. Then, she quickly arranged all the shoes in the entryway properly before finally stepping up into the hall.

  Kengo’s house was so ancient that it seemed like a relic forgotten by time. It was over sixty years old, built during the last century. The wooden floor of the slightly dark hallway was dull, and the wallpaper looked ancient. There was no home system set up in the Suguri household, so there were switches for the lights and machines on the walls; this was a rarity these days.

  Arato and Lacia walked up the stairs to the second floor. Even though the restaurant was in the same building, they didn’t see Kengo’s parents. From what Arato had heard, Kengo’s folks didn’t care much for hIEs.

  Lacia tried to avoid mentioning the pain of human relationships as to not upset Arato. “To confirm: your friend broke his promise with his younger sister, and she has been unable to contact him, correct?” she asked.

  They stepped into a room with tatami mat flooring. It was the first time Arato had been in his friend’s room, but in a single glance he could see Kengo’s passion. As if to rebel a
gainst the ancient wooden house around him, Kengo had decked his room out in machinery, with cords running to countless power strips. He even had a wireless server set up, though it looked to be second-hand. This was the only room in the house that made Arato feel like he was in the 22nd century.

  “I guess this is his main computer, huh?” Arato said doubtfully. “Even though it’s his family asking, I still don’t feel great about pulling information out of this thing.” Olga had asked for his help through Yuka. Apparently, Kengo had been staying out really late for the past week. Today, he had even said that he was going to spend the night at Arato’s place.

  “C’mon, man, you can’t always use my place as an excuse,” Arato muttered.

  “Mr. Suguri appears to have disabled the GPS tracking in his pocket terminal,” Lacia said. “This house is not overseen by a home system, so I cannot guarantee the accuracy of this statement. But, judging by the item tags of the equipment in this room, I cannot find any trace of Mr. Suguri packing any large luggage before he left.” According to Lacia, hIE were also capable of controlling home electronics. He was impressed by how quickly she grasped the whole situation after seeing Kengo’s room for the first time.

  “Yeah, he didn’t have any luggage with him when he came to school,” Arato agreed. It wasn’t a great feeling, intruding on his friend’s living space when his friend wasn’t there. He had been to the Suguri home a few times, since it was close to the high school, but never like this.

  Kengo’s bed was neatly made, but he had apparently tossed his pad terminal on top of it. Lacia looked at it, and it booted up without her needing to touch it. Kengo’s desktop computer also started up at the same time, so Arato wondered if the two were connected.

  “I am disabling the password,” Lacia said.

  A shiver ran up Arato’s spine as he thought of the implications of what Lacia was doing. The password screen appeared, and Lacia broke through it in an instant. A program started running on the desktop computer. It showed a map of the eastern side of Tokyo all the way to the border with Chiba prefecture, an area Arato was familiar with. There were points of light scattered all over the map, as well as images of hIEs walking alone and videos of police officers.

 

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