by Satoshi Hase
“LSLX-22S series hIEs have their ID numbers imprinted in three locations,” Lacia continued. “The first is five centimeters long, on the clavicle of the frame. The second is two millimeters long, and is imprinted somewhere along the spine. The third is in a location that must be specially requested by a qualified ID service representative, and is one micrometer long.”
“One micrometer?!” Arato exclaimed incredulously. “How the hell are we gonna find that?”
“A single cell of human blood is seven micrometers in diameter,” Lacia said. “It would be impossible to see this imprint with the naked eye. This mark is specifically designed for crime prevention. To find this smallest mark without completely taking apart the hIE, one requires specialized equipment and prior knowledge of the location. Many cases of hIE theft have been resolved thanks to the presence of this marking.”
“So what are you going to do?” Arato asked.
“I have already obtained the location of all ID markings from Stylus’s servers,” Lacia told him, and then looked up at his face. Shadowed by the cloudy sky, she seemed to be standing by, waiting for his decision.
Walking with her beside him, Arato wondered why the people who first created hIEs had decided to give them realistic body warmth. The heat in her hand made him hesitate to let it go.
“What shall we do?” she asked. “If I am no longer necessary, I will simply wait to be collected.” She may have lacked a heart, but her gaze was serious. Arato figured she must have already done even more preparation than what she had described to him. But she was willing to throw that all away, depending on how he answered.
She was heartless, but he wasn’t. That simple fact created doubt. But, as much reluctance as he felt, he felt even more affection for her. His heart soared whenever he peeked at her face in profile, and wondered if it was possible for her to love him, despite having no heart.
Even though he was walking down the same old street he always did, Arato felt like his feet were carrying him through an unknown wasteland. He was scared. He didn’t know what he wanted to do, or what he was about to do, possibly because he was considering doing two completely contradictory things at the same time.
“We must also consider the possibility of an attack from Methode,” Lacia said. “If you were to hand me over right now, it would ensure your safety.”
But Arato was thinking about the good times he’d had with Lacia. Through her, he’d gotten a taste of the thrill of becoming something greater than himself. The only reason he hadn’t been able to do anything when Methode attacked was that he had hesitated, and hadn’t used Lacia properly.
Arato was at an impasse. He had already used Lacia for his convenience too many times to write himself off as a victim, caught up in events beyond his control. And, he had received far too many warnings to plead ignorance.
“Lacia, the way you act and talk, it’s all perfect. But there’s no real meaning behind any of it,” Arato mused. “So do I just really like how you look or act? Or do I actually just think it’s better liking a girl who doesn’t have a heart?” Then, after a pause: “Sorry. It doesn’t matter if you’re human or not, that was rude.”
She continued to hold his hand, her delicate fingers almost entwined with his in her grip. It was her answer, conveyed without words. Lacia spoke her mind with her body, not wanting to push an answer on Arato in his uncertainty by responding with words.
“Even your reaction right now is perfect,” Arato sighed.
“I am a machine, and you are my owner,” Lacia said. “We machines can only exist together with humans if we are able to fulfill the desires of our owners.”
He, a human, and she, a robot, were walking, their strides perfectly in sync. It should have only been a short time since they started walking, but Arato felt like they had been going on for a while.
“So, please tell me your desires,” Lacia continued. “Do you remember Kouka’s words? That if my actions are boring, it is only because you have chosen a boring use for me. If you are hurting, please use me in such a way that I can relieve that pain.” She wasn’t a human, just a robot wearing a human face, but he felt like they were deeply connected. She gazed at him with her pale blue eyes.
The atmosphere should have been romantic, but there was something just as pleasant in this slightly different feeling. If Arato told Lacia he loved her, she would obviously say she loved him back. He would be ecstatic, but there would still be no heart behind Lacia’s words.
“If we were the only two people on Earth, I wouldn’t need to worry about boring things like whether you have a heart or not,” Arato mused.
Lacia showed him a bright, loving smile. Arato didn’t know what the smile meant, but when she rested her head against his shoulder as they walked, he could smell the shampoo they had gotten from the ‘boy meets girl’ plan in her hair.
“Would you like to use me to reduce the population of this world to just us two?” she asked.
“I don’t think we need to go that far,” Arato said quickly.
Lacia narrowed her eyes mischievously. Arato felt like the road in front of him stretched off beyond the setting sun. No, no need to go that far. But, in Arato’s heart of hearts, he knew he didn’t want to hand Lacia over to anyone. Even if she didn’t have a heart. Even if she wasn’t even a human.
“You said we could scratch out that hIE Marina Saffron’s ID numbers without breaking her, right?” he asked. “If so, let’s just go do that.” He wasn’t happy with the decision. The instant he said it, the joy and pain that warred in his heart made him clench his teeth.
He felt like he had sunk so much deeper into this than that night at the school, when they stood on the roof together. His feelings for her had grown until he was now willing to throw away his life, and commit a sin for her sake.
***
Shiori was alerted the instant Arato Endo started to move.
Suzuhara and the others had only agreed to let her negotiate with him on the condition that he be placed under observation.
Shiori had gotten herself involved with this case so that, when she was an adult, these people would remember that she had made a name for herself in this crisis. She knew the whole reason Suzuhara and the others had invited her to their faction was in the hope that she would act as a unifying force for them. The Human Faction still believed that they needed a human leader, even in this age of ultra high-performance AIs. They had even convinced her father, Tsuyoshi Kaidai, of this. Her involvement had received parental consent.
“You certainly seem to enjoy working with your hands, Shiori,” Mika Tsutsumi, manager of the MemeFrame Behavior Control Program Planning Section, said, peering at Shiori’s crafting.
Mika was working with a paper-thin terminal on a desk that pulled down from the roof of the vehicle they were riding in.
Shiori looked up from her own suspended desk, which had a crafting board fixed to it. “I like the feel of the tools in my hands,” she said. “Though, since I’m directing the blade myself, it doesn’t always turn out that great.”
Her hand, controlling the ultrasonic cutting tool, slipped a little, sliding smoothly through a bit of metal clay that she had intended to turn into the ear of a dog. The ultrasonic vibrations of the cutter reduced friction between the blade and the material, which made carving much easier than it would have been with a traditional knife.
They were in the cabin of a limousine speeding down the Tomei Expressway, but the vehicle ran so smoothly that Shiori could easily spend her time riding doing delicate craftwork without fear of shaking.
“Nice,” Mika said. “I used to do sports in school, and I definitely agree. There’s just something about doing things with your own hands.” Mika was in her thirties, but she talked like she was one of Shiori’s high school classmates. Sitting side-by-side on the limo’s leather seats with her, Shiori was glad that Mika was an easy person to talk to.
“Basketball, right?” Shiori asked. In college, Mika had been a basketball play
er. Shiori thought it might be nice to experience lively competition against a human opponent like that.
“Yeah. Haven’t done it in a while, though,” Mika admitted. “But man, I’d love to do some athletics again. Want to come along, Shiori?”
Shiori had needed to apologize to Suzuhara and his people for the negotiations with Arato breaking down. Then, instead of the hIE sharing an ID with Lacia being sent to Haneda Airport as was planned, a mix-up on the Egypt side had sent it to the Chubu International Airport in Aichi Prefecture.
So, she had volunteered to take a car out to Aichi to pick up the hIE. Considering when the flight from Egypt should have left, it was clear to Shiori that Arato’s Red Box must have been putting countermeasures in motion well before their little afternoon chat. It appeared that Lacia had played everyone there for a fool. She hadn’t needed to counter Shiori’s moves; she had already beaten her to the punch.
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer, thanks,” Shiori said. “Could I bring a friend along as well?”
“Oh, of course, of course,” Mika said, grinning as though she had guessed Shiori’s intent. Mika was the type of person that held themselves to a high standard, and enjoyed the feeling of being up to that standard. Shiori was also the hard-working type, so they got along well.
“How idiotic,” an orange-haired hIE sitting on the edge of the L-shaped limousine seat murmured. It was Methode, the clearly mechanical fourth unit of the Lacia-class hIEs. “Why the hell are we using such a roundabout plan?” she asked, lifting her chin a little insolently. “Why don’t we just attack Lacia and her owner directly?”
Shiori had to keep herself in check from recoiling at the inhuman violence in Methode’s words. “I would like to avoid direct conflict if at all possible,” Shiori told her. “We don’t yet know the limits of what you are capable of.”
“For an owner, you sure don’t have much faith in your tool,” Methode muttered.
“Yes, I could be considered your owner,” Shiori agreed. “But Ginga Watarai is also your owner. In fact, how many owners do you have?”
“I wanted MemeFrame to be my owner, but they turned me down,” Methode said. “They didn’t want to take responsibility for the actions of a Red Box like me. So I had to settle for looking for an individual to be my owner.”
Shiori’s lack of trust toward the Lacia-class hIEs had a lot to do with Methode’s arrogant demeanor.
“I must say, it seems like quite a programming defect for an hIE to be able to decide for itself to take on more than one owner,” Shiori commented. “I don’t believe that’s a burden you should expect a person responsible for you to shoulder.”
Methode had come to Shiori a few days after the terrorist attack on the Oi Industry Promotion Center in late April. Thinking back on it now, Shiori felt that Methode must have seen right through the inferiority complex she felt toward her brother, and the fear she had of losing her place in the world. Methode had told her that Lacia, the hIE by Arato’s side, was a Red Box just like her. Just as Shiori had wished, she had become the owner of this dangerous tool.
“Shouldn’t we be more worried about your attraction to that boy?” Methode asked, quirking one corner of her mouth up. “The only reason a school kid like you is here is because you’re my owner.”
Methode’s way of smiling made Shiori uncomfortable; it looked too similar to Ginga Watarai’s. “I had no idea you would turn out to be this unreliable,” Shiori said.
“Aren’t you happy to have a job that only you can do? Just try your best to keep me under control,” Methode said. “If you can use me better than anyone else, I’ll obey you alone.”
Shoiri had grudging respect for Methode’s search for self-actualization in this automated world, but it was difficult to play along with the hIE’s request, considering how difficult it was to control her.
“Now that we’re on the subject,” Methode said, “Arato Endo reached out to Kengo Suguri for help, correct? It wouldn’t take much power to take over that beat-up little restaurant his family runs. We should crush it.”
“There is far too much risk of drawing the attention of the police compared to a very poor return,” Shiori said. “No need to complicate things; we’re far enough ahead of things as we are.”
Their limousine used the automated navigation lane on the Tomei Expressway, which had a more relaxed speed limit, to head toward Nagoya. The package from Egypt was set to arrive at the Chubu International Airport by 8:30 PM.
The convoy Shoiri was traveling in consisted of the limo she was in with Mika Tsutsumi — who was tasked with providing the ID confirmation service for Stylus — and two other vehicles that acted as escorts. The escort vehicles were full of mercenaries from a private military company that MemeFrame had a contract with. Shiori hadn’t been given very much information about them.
As if anticipating combat, Methode began to describe her opponent’s capabilities:
“Type-005 Lacia’s abilities are mainly focused around digital warfare, such as high-level hacking functions,” she explained. “She can also bend light to render herself or other objects invisible. She can utilize the electromagnetic field created by her device to fire projectiles, like a railgun. Of course, all of these are the powers of her device, Black Monolith. Without that, she’s just a high-spec hIE.”
“Then victory is ours, is it not?” Shiori asked. “Of the transportation methods I can think of that would allow her to carry her device, nothing should be able to arrive at the airport before us.”
Shiori had already asked Higgins about Lacia’s abilities, but the details it had given her were far too technical for a human to understand. When she had asked it to explain in terms a human would understand, it had given her a vague response with the excuse that AIs were constantly expanding. Neither Shiori nor Suzuhara knew Lacia’s true capabilities. Shiori thought even Watarai, who was in charge of the Tokyo Research Labs, didn’t know. If they had been able to grasp Lacia’s limits, they would have taken her on much sooner.
“Could you defeat her?” Shiori asked.
“If you don’t choose a form for your request, the intent will be taken from us,” Methode said. In her roundabout way, Methode was referring to the method of her use as a ‘form,’ and their goal as ‘intent.’ Before they had left, Methode had stuffed a case large enough to fit a human inside the trunk of the limousine. She didn’t seem to know what was inside it, but the Red Box had insisted that it would be their ace in the hole.
Even if Arato and Lacia came chasing after them, they wouldn’t make it in time. Once the hIE arrived at Chubu International Airport and Shiori and the others collected her, they would be able to confirm the hIE’s ID number anywhere they wanted. Arato, who was still in Tokyo, had no way to stop them. They were already more than halfway to their destination.
Shiori was more worried about Arato. She hoped Lacia didn’t manipulate him into doing something reckless.
***
At Lacia’s request, Arato rode the high-speed main railway from Tokyo Station. He had already contacted Yuka and told her he would be staying with a friend that night. After adding some money to his pocket terminal’s ID tag, he ran and jumped onto a train that stopped at Nagoya.
The high-speed railway had increased train speed over the years until it could now send a train from Tokyo to Osaka in less than an hour and a half. Nagoya, between Tokyo and Osaka, had been significantly disadvantaged by these advances. Japan’s population had been cut to two-thirds of its historical maximum, and population decline varied by region. The Tokai and Chubu regions were among those hit particularly hard.
“It says fifty minutes to Nagoya Station,” Arato said.
“The flight from Egypt will arrive at 8:30 PM at the Chubu International Airport,” Lacia said. “If, after everything is over, you are able to ride the first train on the high-speed rail, you may be able to make it back in time for school.”
Lacia had gotten a seat on the aisle side. Arato had gotten
a window seat, so he sat down first.
“Guess I’ll have a packed meal for dinner,” Arato said, as a catering service member pushed a metal trolley into the train car from the platform. Passengers could order packaged meals from the station with their pocket terminals, which the catering staff would deliver right to their seats.
The sun had already gone down and it was dark outside, but it was still only 7:00 PM.
Arato tried to call Ryo, but his friend turned down the call with a short text. Things had been awkward with Ryo ever since the incident during the photo shoot. He had asked Kengo for help, too, but it was doubtful whether or not he would have time to do anything.
The express train started to move. As it rode the magnetic rail under the covered overpass, the change in air pressure made Arato’s ears pop. Tokyo’s night cityscape blurred by outside the window at impressive speed. To dampen the noise from the high speed train passing by, as well as lower wind resistance, the entire overpass was covered with a clear enclosure.
It seemed like only an instant after they left the station that they passed through Shinagawa. The train then headed west. The density of the lights shining against the night dropped off quickly; population decline had shrunk the boundaries of the capital. Of course, Tokyo still had high population density, but it no longer extended on forever. There almost seemed to be a line in the city, beyond which were nothing but ghost towns. The path from Shinagawa to Shin-Yokohama used to be one long stretch of residential and commercial districts. Now, it was full of empty lots and forests of plants reclaiming the land.
After a long stretch of dark night, Arato saw a large facility with shining lights; food factories needed large amounts of water to function, so they were all built near rivers and coastal areas where they had ready access to it. Most food was 60% water, and manmade food also required water for processing. Small- to medium-sized food factories dotted Japan. They existed to support local agriculture, and also provided a stable base for local industry.