by Shouji Gatou
“Don’t do it, Colonel!” someone called out from the audience. “He’s probably a carrier!”
“Just do it!” another person yelled. “Nothing to lose!”
She didn’t have a choice. If she refused now, she’d hurt his feelings, and disappoint the crowd. Darn it... Tessa thought. She had to be impartial. That’s right. Back when I was a little girl getting my sea legs, I often greeted the old sailors who taught me with a kiss. It’s not that big a deal, is it?
Tessa cast a glance at Sousuke. He was still scowling, as if trying to comprehend the situation. Standing beside him, Kaname’s expression was inscrutable.
Tessa shook the tension out of her shoulders and addressed McAllen. “All right... Captain. Are you ready?”
“Heh... you bet I am, ma’am. It’s my honor.” The middle-aged man was grinning like a child. She smiled a little and gave him a peck on the cheek. The act was met immediately by whistles, applause, and cheers. “This is the greatest day of my life,” he cheered. “I’m so lucky!” She saw Sousuke, at the other end of the crowd, glancing about as he at last grasped the meaning of the prize.
After bingo was over, some of the crew brought out instruments. SRT Master Sergeant Melissa Mao played on keyboards, accompanied by some crew from the maintenance and torpedo divisions. As the crowd began to grow rowdy, those around Kaname encouraged her to sing. She started off meek, but a positive reception to her rendition of Sakamoto Kyu’s Sukiyaki improved her mood, and she satisfied them by singing a few more songs in passionate karaoke mode. She pulled Tessa on stage and gave a soulful rendition of James Brown’s Sex Machine.
“Get up-pah!”
“G-Get up-pah...”
“Get on up-pah!”
“G-Get on up... pah?”
“I can’t hear you!” Kaname yelled. “You couldn’t order a pizza like that, let alone a squad! Right, everyone?”
“Yeah!” the crowd cheered.
“Can I take you to the bridge?!” Kaname bellowed.
“Yeah!” The listeners stamped their feet and joined in with her rapid call-and-response. It went on, with Kaname shouting and Tessa feverishly echoing her each time.
As the song wound down, a communications officer approached Tessa and whispered something to her. Her face, showing a genuine sense of enjoyment, locked up for just a second, but it quickly relaxed back into a smile. She begged off from Kaname and the others, and left. They were disappointed at first, but the party mood quickly revived, and the festivities continued.
Sousuke was alone in a corner of the hangar, some distance away from the crowd. He was sitting on a small container, silently chewing on a fruit-flavored Calorie Mate as he gazed idly at Kaname and the others. She really is good at this kind of thing, Sousuke was thinking.
In just a few hours since her boarding, Kaname had already made herself at home among the crew. In fact, “made herself at home” was putting it mildly—she was incredibly popular with them. Her unpretentious demeanor, her outspoken attitude, her almost shocking lack of guardedness... those things all set the others at ease. It wasn’t just the crew, either; in school or out of it, she developed a rapport with everyone she met. Wasn’t that a far more valuable skill than firing a gun or piloting an AS? Any time he looked at her or Tessa, Sousuke began to see himself as hopelessly flawed.
The song changed to a lively jazz tune, and Kaname added some simple dance moves to her singing on the stage. With a downcast smile, she elegantly twirled her upper body, which caused her black hair to flutter. Sousuke found a sigh escaping his lips. He didn’t know why, but she suddenly felt far away—like the most distant person from him in the world.
“She sure is pretty, huh?” For the first time, Sousuke realized Kurz was standing right next to him. He was holding a non-alcoholic beer in one hand. “Sexy, stylish... No wonder guys fall all over her.”
“Do they? I wouldn’t know,” he responded brusquely.
“Good singer. Great sense of rhythm,” Kurz noted. “I bet they follow her around at school, too.”
“She does have leadership skills,” Sousuke agreed solemnly.
Kurz gave him a sidelong look that turned into a teasing smile. “You’re telling me that seeing her like this doesn’t spark anything for you at all?”
“No.”
“Then what’s with all the sighing?”
Sousuke fell silent; Kurz must have been watching him for a while. With a scowl, he said, “I’m just... concerned about all the noise. The submarine is on maneuvers currently. Light socializing is one thing, but musical performances—”
“Don’t give me that crap,” Kurz snorted. “Tessa said it was fine. Since when does a grunt like you get to second-guess her decisions?”
“Well... true enough.” Sousuke didn’t argue. Noise was the de Danaan’s greatest enemy, but there were currently no major ships or submarines around them for 50 kilometers. Once they were in their area of operations, a commotion like this would be suicide, but that wasn’t the case just yet. Someone could fire a gun on board, and the only ones that would hear it would be the migrating schools of fish.
Of course, even during downtime, there would be members of the crew openly fearful of the fate that might await them at their destination. But worrying wouldn’t change what was going to happen; they still had nothing to do but wait until they arrived. Allotting that waiting time to recreational activities like these wasn’t a bad idea at all.
“Everyone’s afraid,” Kurz said. “Even the veterans.”
Sousuke said nothing. They’d be on strict silent running tomorrow regardless. The strained air that always precedes a mission would take over, and the fearful crew would find their nerves frayed to the breaking point. And then... the battle would begin.
Kaname and the crew were enjoying the party as if none of that even existed. “Huh? One more song? But... aw, okay,” Kaname said, easily giving in. “You guys... Then, let’s do that Stevie Wonder one I mentioned before. Ready, Mao-san?”
“Okay, okay. Bring it on.”
“Then let’s go!” Kaname snapped her fingers, and the intro began to play.
26 August, 1517 Hours (Greenwich Mean Time)
Central Control Room, Tuatha de Danaan
In stark contrast to the party in the hangar, the atmosphere of the control room was one of inorganic tranquility. There was only the blue of the front screens and green of the status boards; neat rows of digits and code conveyed every facet of reality that the submarine could perceive.
Tessa returned here after slipping out of the party, and found Mardukas and Kalinin waiting by the captain’s chair. “What’s the situation?” she wanted to know.
“Not good,” Major Andrey Kalinin responded. The Russian, who commanded their ground forces in the field, rarely joined them to share good news. “The US Special Forces’ raid failed. We’re still lacking all the details, but... there’s a lot that doesn’t add up.”
Information on the armed group occupying the chemical munitions disposal facility was on display in a corner of the main screen. Confirmed units included eight French-made ASes and five Soviet-made SPAAGs, plus around 20 foot soldiers or more. The camouflaged mid-size transport that brought them in had been left in the ocean on the south side of the base.
“This is strange,” Tessa said, brow furrowed. “Their armaments are impressive for terrorists, but they shouldn’t be enough to drive off the SEALs. What about the chemical weapons in storage?”
“There’s been no sign of the fighting having caused a leak,” Kalinin told her. “No intentional detonation, either—though the terrorists did release a statement that they would set it off the next time we try anything.”
“I’m surprised the Americans opted for such a brute force approach...” Tessa trailed off. The media hadn’t yet learned of the occupation. The American government was trying to deal with the problem covertly, in order to avoid the base’s existence being made public.
According to the report made by
Mithril’s intelligence division, the terrorist group was demanding the destruction of all of Perio’s tourist facilities and an expulsion of all tourists there. They called themselves the Green Salvation Army and their stated goal was the protection of Perio’s priceless coral reefs. They refused to entertain any negotiation with US forces for alternate conditions, but tourism was the Republic of Perio’s only real industry, and the Western countries’ fundamental policy was “never concede to terrorists”—so the result was a total impasse. The terrorists must have been fully aware of this, too, of course. And yet...
“I don’t like it,” she said, and gripped her braid tightly. “The skill it required to take over that base, the way they dealt with the special forces, the method they used to secure their equipment... it’s all much too technical and professional. Yet their demands make them sound like amateur bank robbers. Could it be a diversion of some kind?”
“I couldn’t say. But regardless of their motives, the danger remains,” Mardukas put in. “And from what I can intuit, operations headquarters wants us to handle the counterinsurgency ourselves.”
“We don’t have a choice, then?” Tessa frowned. “For heaven’s sake...”
Even as they spoke, the US top brass were probably in contact with Mithril’s own upper echelons. Ever since the Sunan Incident, the number of top secret commissions Mithril had received from various countries’ governments had been skyrocketing. They could expect to get the call the minute the details were worked out.
Just then, the boat’s mother AI let out an electronic chime.《Captain. Intelligence message on channel G1. Source: intelligence division. Decrypting and saving as file N98H03811a. Process complete. Display?》
“Yes,” Tessa said shortly, “please do.”
《Aye, ma’am.》
The new information appeared on her personal screen. The intelligence division had sent an electronic file containing additional information about the fight at the chemical weapons facility. The special forces had suffered a complete rout, and at the time they fled, the status of the battle was still labeled unresolved.
Tessa and the others silently read the message text and the attached file, which made it clear that things were even worse than they feared: the destruction of the American ASes had been orchestrated entirely by a single enemy machine. Its model and maker were both unknown, but a soldier that made it back had managed to get it on video.
Tessa called up the video in question; the silent footage showed the blurry image of a red AS, running around the outskirts of the base, arms spread as if at play. It had a massive top-half, a diamond-shaped head, long limbs, and incredible explosive power.
“This... It’s the same make, isn’t it?” Tessa asked.
“It does appear so,” Kalinin said, confirming her suspicions. “It’s almost identical to the machine that Sagara and Weber fought in Sunan.”
The unknown silver AS, piloted by the vile terrorist Gauron... Tessa and the others knew it from mission recorder footage taken by the ARX-7 Arbalest during the fight. “I wonder if it has a lambda driver,” she speculated.
“Almost certainly.”
“No wonder the US forces lost...” Tessa thought a moment, troubled. “I’m liking this less and less.” She pressed the tip of her braid to her lips, anxiously.
The inside of her mouth felt sticky, as it always did when something bad was going to happen. Something in her head seemed to be screaming at her, Do not approach that island.
If she could, Tessa would have turned them right around immediately and taken them back to Merida Island. But instead, she regained her cool and said, “Kalinin-san. How’s the Arbalest?”
“Ready any time,” he answered. “Though formatting it proved to be impossible.”
“Then I assume Sergeant Sagara has not yet received a full briefing?” she checked.
“Those were your instructions, after all.”
“Good; consider them changed,” Tessa ordered. “Have Lieutenant Lemming brief him at once regarding the Arbalest and the lambda driver.”
“How much should she tell him?” Kalinin asked.
“Everything we know so far... little though that may be.”
“Understood.”
26 August, 1702 Hours (Greenwich Mean Time)
Main Hangar, Tuatha de Danaan
Kaname was cleaning up after the party, and Melissa Mao was helping her.
“Hey, sorry about putting you on the spot with the vocals,” the latter was saying.
“Oh, no prob. I had fun.” Kaname smiled as she swiftly folded up a tarp. “You guys are honestly a blast. I figured Mithril people would all be more like Sousuke...”
“Nah, he’s... more the exception, let’s say,” the other woman laughed. Melissa Mao was Sousuke’s comrade; Kaname had met her several times before, but this felt like their first time getting to talk to each other for real. Kaname had heard she was Asian-American, but appearance-wise, Mao could easily have been Japanese. She even spoke the language fluently, if with a bit more of an accent than Kurz. She had short black hair and strikingly large, slightly almond-shaped eyes.
What a cool lady, Kaname thought. She had a kind of mature, sexy air about her, too.
“How’d things go with Tessa?” Mao asked abruptly, while she helped Kaname go about the work.
“Oh, well... she’s sweet, you know?”
“Yeah?” Mao said. “I know things are complicated with Sousuke and all, but I hope you guys can get along.”
“Ah...” Kaname felt her heart skip a beat.
But Mao continued, with the tone of the class gossip. “She told you, right? That she likes Sousuke that way.”
“Y-Yeah, she did, but... but it’s not like I—”
“—feel the same way?” Mao grinned.
Kaname stammered back, “R-Right...”
“Well, if you say so,” Mao shrugged. “Oh... by the way, no one else knows except me, so no worries. She and I are just good friends in private.” She dumped a set of cutlery into a plastic bag as she spoke.
Kaname stood very still and watched her at work and only eventually decided to ask, “But is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“Um... does Tessa really... you know?” she asked awkwardly. “From what I saw at the party, it didn’t seem that way...”
It was then that a complicated smile appeared on Mao’s face. It was a rather sad expression, almost like one of pity. “Ah, well... How to put it... while we’re out of port, she can’t really do the whole ‘maiden in love’ thing.”
“How come?”
“Well... because the de Danaan is a warship,” Mao explained. “It’s a lethal weapon, under her command. If it comes to it, she might have to order one of us to die in order to protect the rest of the crew.”
Kaname said nothing.
“So she tries to keep her subordinates at a respectful distance. At least, when the rest of the crew are around.”
“I see...” It made sense, now that Kaname thought about it. It was the same way anywhere, be it a submarine, a company, or a school club. Leaders had to be impartial. To start showing obvious favorites would demoralize the rest of the team, and compromise their loyalty. “That sounds tough...” she sighed.
“It is,” Mao agreed. “It’s tough, and it’s lonely.”
For the first time, it was sinking in for Kaname just how impressive Tessa was. Even after seeing the massive submarine and receiving the giant welcome, it still hadn’t felt real. But why? Why did a girl her own age have to bear such an immense responsibility? Why did she have to fight alongside adults like Mao and Kalinin? Wasn’t that simple cruelty?
But before she could ask Mao about that, Tessa herself entered the hangar. She looked in their direction and walked briskly up to them. “Kaname-san,” she said.
“Wh-What?”
“I need to talk to you,” Tessa told her. “Please, come with me.” Kaname followed Tessa to the captain’s quarters.
Th
e Tuatha de Danaan was a special kind of submarine loaded with ASes, helicopters, and other machines. The fore side housed the hangar, the ammunition stores, the torpedo room, and other “combat” functions, while the facilities necessary for the running of the vessel itself—the control room, the crew quarters, the galley, the mess, and the reactor—ran from the midship to the aft.
“Structurally, it’s similar to the Soviet Typhoon-class nuclear ballistic missile submarine,” Tessa explained as they walked. “In fact, it came from the Russians initially—built in a shipyard in Severodvinsk. But there was an insurrection, and it was sent adrift in the Arctic Ocean, still incomplete. So we slipped in and took it for ourselves.”
“You mean you swiped their half-built scrap?” Kaname raised an eyebrow.
“I suppose you could say that,” Tessa said after a pause. She looked a bit upset, but continued. “A comrade and I used it as the foundation for a completely revamped design. We spent several years on it, integrating all kinds of supertechnology unknown to any country or corporation... and this was the final product.”
“Hmm...” Kaname, lacking any frame of reference for how amazing that was, responded neutrally.
“Its functions are almost entirely automated,” Tessa said modestly. “If I wanted to, I could control it all by myself.”
“By yourself?” Even Kaname knew to be surprised by this.
“Yes. But the fully autonomous mode has a number of imperfections, including sacrificing its greatest strength, the superconductive drive. At the end of the day, a vessel this complicated can’t utilize its full potential without a well-trained crew looking after it.”
Soon, they arrived at the captain’s quarters. Tessa unlocked the door and went inside. Even though this was apparently Tessa’s room, the bag Kaname had left in the infirmary seemed to have been brought here at some point.
“What’s going on?” Kaname asked, feeling bewildered.
“Oh, you’ll be sleeping here, Kaname,” Tessa told her. “Please, make yourself at home.”