by Shouji Gatou
The captain’s quarters weren’t especially large; they looked rather like the facilities at a modest business hotel. Just pulling the bed out of the wall would probably make it feel stuffy, and she didn’t see any particular luxuries outside of a private bathroom in the back. The only thing that caught her eye was the sturdy-looking safe in the wall.
On the desk sat a pot of devil’s ivy, a colorful candle, and a wicker basket. Next to the basket was a plastic picture frame, which was set face down. Curiously, Kaname found herself reaching for it, but...
“Ah, please...” Tessa dashed out and covered the frame with both hands. Kaname looked at her in confusion. “P-Please, don’t look at it. It’s... classified. Just some notes I jotted down... the week’s command codes and ID codes and such,” she explained, blushing and fidgeting. But even Kaname knew that nobody put notes in a picture frame. It was probably a picture of someone. Most likely... of him.
She remembered what Mao had just told her and felt a complicated swirl of feelings; a little amused, a little hurt, a little nervous, and yet relieved. The emotions all mixed together to inspire the slightest twinge in the back of her chest. But Kaname feigned total indifference and said, “If it’s that important, shouldn’t you lock it up somewhere?”
“You... You’re right. I’ll do that.” Tessa shut the picture frame up in the safe and cleared her throat. “Well... please, feel free to sit anywhere. Can I offer you tea?”
“Sure. Thanks,” Kaname answered, then sat down on the room’s only sofa. Tessa turned away to pull a tea set from the cabinet.
Kaname was starting to feel a little sleepy. The clock on the wall read 5:29 PM, but that was Greenwich Standard Time—in Japan, as in their current location, it would be the middle of the night—almost 1:30 in the morning. Perhaps noticing her state of mind, Tessa said, “I’m sure you must be tired, but try to stay up a little bit longer. Things will be very busy tomorrow, so I want to talk things over now, while we have the chance.”
Kaname yawned a little and said, “Sure. So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Us,” Tessa said simply.
“You mean Mithril?”
“No. You and me... and a few others,” Tessa hedged. “I don’t know how many, exactly...”
Kaname tilted her head, not grasping her meaning. “What are you talking about?”
“The Whispered...” She breathed the word as gently as could be, yet Kaname’s body locked up instinctively. “—You’ve heard the word before, haven’t you?”
After a long hesitation, Kaname admitted it. “Yes,” she said. In the tense silence that hung over the room, she could feel her heart beating a little faster. The Whispered. Of course that’s what it was about; the word that had been lurking in the back of her mind all this time. The word she’d worked hard to avoid thinking about, because of how frightened it made her... Her dark, hidden secret—a secret that had almost gotten her killed several times before. She’d had a sense, for a while, that the next time she saw Tessa, she’d be forced to confront it head-on. It was a baseless feeling, but one that was always there.
That’s why she hadn’t asked Sousuke to bring her to Tessa earlier. Kaname did want to see her—but at the same time, her mind had rebelled from the thought. She was afraid that the closer she came to the secret, the further she would end up pulled away from her family, from her school, from everyone who lived in that world. And though that thought had never left her head, it seemed her days of passive avoidance were over.
“You may have already realized it, but...” Tessa said. “I’m one of them as well. I’m a Whispered, like you. We know things nobody should know, and we can sometimes draw that information to the surface. There are only a handful of us scattered across the entire world. Perhaps a few dozen more with the latent potential—but no more.”
Kaname felt like time had slowed. There was the pleasant clink of porcelain against metal, and she nearly forgot that they were 200 meters underwater.
“Whispered are often referred to as ‘storehouses of black technology,’” Tessa went on. “Under the right conditions, we can access theories and technologies that far outstrip anything modern science can produce.”
“Me too?” Kaname asked faintly.
“Yes,” Tessa confirmed. “Most children born as Whispered seem to grow up unaware of their power. But as they age, their minds mature; knowledge and vocabulary increases, and they slowly begin to hear them... the whispers.”
Kaname said nothing.
“Once this begins, the intelligence of the Whispered rises dramatically. They find themselves easily solving problems they once found inscrutable, producing original creative ideas... They rapidly become geniuses.”
“A-Am I going to...”
“You haven’t already seen the signs?” Tessa asked.
“Um... I’m not sure. Well...” Kaname thought back to her scores from the first term final. Pretty well in English and social studies; pretty lousy in grammar—that much was typical. It was her grades in math and science that were unusual.
When she’d started the science test, Kaname had thought, What’s with these easy questions? Everyone’s gonna get a perfect score, but she’d been dead wrong. On a test where the average score in her year was 52, Kaname had scored a 95—even though physics and calculus were usually her worst subjects. Kyoko and her other friends had been surprised; even Sousuke had been stunned. What if that wasn’t just a fluke?
“The idea kind of creeps me out...” she admitted. It felt like she was turning into a different person. Even if being a Whispered let her conquer difficult subjects with ease, it didn’t feel like something to celebrate.
“I suppose it would... but the truth is unavoidable,” Tessa monotoned dully.
Is this how doctors sound when they tell someone they have cancer? Kaname wondered.
“On top of this fundamental intelligence increase, Whispered sometimes find themselves knowing more advanced things—things they couldn’t possibly know. Things told to them by a whisper.”
A“whisper”—was that what that voice was? “Just out of the blue, you mean?” Kaname asked.
“Yes,” Tessa said. “As far as I know, you’ve used this power twice: the first time was in the mountains of North Korea; the second was during the battle with Behemoth. It let you know things you couldn’t possibly know. Of course, the second one... you did with my help.”
“Your help?”
“You don’t remember?” Tessa questioned.
“Oh... I guess I do. I gotta say, I still don’t get exactly what happened then...” Kaname thought back. She remembered the voices that came to her through the hazy veil of consciousness. The first one was unsettling, but the second... she’d felt sure it was Tessa’s voice.
“What happened then is known as ‘resonance,’” Tessa informed her.
“Resonance?”
“Yes. Under certain, specific circumstances, Whispered ‘resonate’ with each other. In the deepest parts of our minds, in a place beyond sight... we’re able to use the ‘sphere’ to share our thoughts. It happens when the both of us, together, believe it necessary.”
“What... like telepathy or something?” Kaname’s question wasn’t meant as a joke. She had been through too many strange experiences to simply dismiss the idea as unbelievable.
“Telepathy... Perhaps,” Tessa mused, approaching with a tray; she must have finished the tea. “It’s difficult to say.” She placed a teacup on the small table in front of Kaname then poured black tea from the plunger in the piston-style pot. An elegant fragrance tickled Kaname’s nose. “The resonance... it’s not quite like having a conversation via telephone or transceiver,” she went on. “It’s closer to a LAN on a computer.”
“Or like the Internet?” Kaname guessed.
“On a much smaller scale, and involving fewer people, yes,” Tessa agreed. “But resonance is a very dangerous act—You want to avoid it as much as possible.”
“How come?”
Kaname frowned. “It sounds like a really convenient power—”
“Convenience always comes at a cost, Kaname-san,” Tessa said, with a hint of admonishment. “I’ve told you before, but the resonance between Whispered is a sharing of thoughts. It’s not a conversation or a transmission, it’s a melding. Even if it’s kept brief... one wrong move, and you may end up forgetting who you are. Think of it like this.” She picked up the milk dispenser and poured it into her tea, where the cup became a swirl of red and white. Stirring caused the tea and milk to mix, until it was all the same color, an opaque agate. “Once blended together like this, the tea and the milk can never be separated again.”
Kaname said nothing.
Tessa took a casual sip of her milk tea. “This is fine for tea, it just makes the taste more pleasant. But it must not be done with human minds. It will shatter your very identity and bring your life as you know it to an end.”
“Um... I think I understand,” Kaname said uneasily, “but I’m not sure.”
“I’m sorry to speak in such abstract terms, but I don’t entirely understand it all myself,” Tessa apologized. “I can’t do any research on it, now that I’m essentially the only Whispered in Mithril.”
Kaname blinked in surprise when she heard that. “There are others like you?”
At her question, a look of pain entered Tessa’s face. She appeared to be trying to suppress some rising, intense emotion that she hadn’t fully processed yet. “Yes... One that we took in a few months ago is currently in rehabilitation... but setting her aside, there was one other Whispered capable of using his knowledge like me.”
Kaname noticed the word “was,” but didn’t touch on it. “What was he like?”
“His name was Bani Morauta,” Tessa told her. “He was quiet, but kind. And absolutely extraordinary. He’s the one who created that work of art, the Arbalest.”
“Arbalest?” Kaname asked.
“The white AS,” Tessa explained. “Sagara-san’s.”
“Ahh...” It was Kaname’s first time hearing that the machine had a name.
“The Arbalest was based on the M9 prototype, with a lambda driver added in. It’s full of black technology, with no thought given to replicability. We cannot build another, because Bani is no longer with us.”
“You can’t make one, Tessa?” Kaname questioned.
“No. Whispered are not omniscient; I only have limited knowledge of the principle and technology of the lambda driver,” Tessa admitted. “It would be possible to consciously summon a whisper and learn more... but I would prefer not to attempt it.”
“Why not?”
“It’s far more dangerous even than resonance. Each dive into the mysteries of the mind, each attempt to access that forbidden knowledge, causes the whispers to take us over more and more. Once you yield control to them, you can never get it back again,” Tessa warned her urgently. “I know this, because I saw it happen... to Bani.”
“They took him over?” Kaname gasped.
“Yes,” Tessa said shortly. “He went mad and killed himself.” Silence fell over the captain’s quarters.
The Tuatha de Danaan was a truly quiet vessel. There was no hum of machinery, no sound of the waves, no creaking of water pressure on the hull. It was a maddening kind of quiet.
“Now, Kaname-san...” Tessa said at length, setting down her unfinished tea. “The reason I am telling you about the Whispered... is because you are no exception. The danger may not be imminent, but it exists all the same. And not only from the whispers—There are those out there who are desperate to acquire people like you and me.”
“You mean like that Gauron guy?”
“Yes. He appears to be dead now, but he was part of an organization—likely the same one that supplied Takuma and the others with the Behemoth,” said Tessa. “What’s more, they’re capable of building lambda driver-mounted ASes... Which means that they must have one or more Whispered.”
Kaname had nothing to say.
“They want you,” Tessa concluded. “And if they know about me, I’m sure they want me, too. They’ll resort to anything to get us.”
“But... but that’s...” Kaname tugged at the hem of her dress with her fingertips, feeling restless. It wasn’t her first time hearing that people were after her, but she’d never felt the threat so keenly before. There was too much peace in the world she lived in, the bustling town and school, for the idea to feel real.
“I understand that you’re afraid,” Tessa said calmly. “But you aren’t completely alone. We do not wish to see you to fall into enemy hands. The higher echelons of Mithril agree, and that is why they sent a bodyguard from the intelligence division to watch over you.”
“Sousuke, right?” Kaname said.
Tessa shook her head. “No, Sagara-san and I belong to operations, not intelligence.”
Kaname tilted her head.
“You may not have realized it, but you have a second bodyguard watching over you.”
“A s-second?” she said shakily. “Who is it?” It was a bolt out of the blue. This was the first Kaname had heard of it.
“I do not know. And it’s probably better that I don’t,” Tessa admitted. “Their agents are at their strongest when invisible to both friend and foe. If you knew the agent’s identity, then he—or perhaps she—would lose that powerful asset.”
“I guess you’re right...” For some reason, Kaname found herself thinking of their student council president. Smart, calm, and cool-headed... She wouldn’t be surprised if it was him. No, that was way too crazy. But who else could it be?
“After the Sunan Incident, it was Kalinin-san who proposed that Sagara-san remain with you. I’m sure you’re acutely aware of this by now, but in the peaceful society you inhabit, Sagara-san is... conspicuous,” Tessa said. “If the enemy were to get serious about abducting you, they would likely seek to eliminate him first.”
Kaname vaguely got her meaning. “Hey, wait, you mean... Sousuke is a decoy?”
“Effectively,” Tessa said with surprising calm.
Kaname felt a sudden surge of temper. “What? That’s awful! Sousuke’s... he’s doing the best he can! Sure he’s kind of a pain in the butt, but he’s always working really hard to protect me! Using him as bait for bad guys is...”
“I know that!” Tessa raised her voice and glared at Kaname, not even bothering to hide her irritation. It was an extremely sudden change.
As Kaname was stunned into silence, Tessa recovered her composure and lowered her eyes. “I am sorry. But... I want you to consider for whom it is he must do this.”
“Huh?” Kaname fell silent again as the other girl’s words caught her off guard.
“Sagara-san is aware of the other bodyguard,” Tessa continued at length. “He likely knows that he’s a decoy, and... he knows of the danger his position puts him in. He accepted this mission with full knowledge of all of it. And he did it entirely...” For your sake. Those were the words she surely would have said, if she could only bring herself to say them.
The existence of the bodyguard surprised Kaname less than the fact that Sousuke knew about it. He had never breathed a word of it to her. He’d always insisted that he would protect her, but in fact... he was the one most in danger. Something that important, and he’d never even told her...
Sousuke... She felt a slight heat in her chest, accompanied by a surge of mortification. Embarrassment for her past foolishness, acute sympathy for the pain Tessa was in, and self-loathing... all in all, Kaname wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. “T-Tessa... um...”
Tessa remained silent.
“I’m sorry. I... I didn’t know,” Kaname stammered. “And... I really...” She didn’t know how to express how she felt.
While she hesitated, Tessa suddenly smiled. “It’s all right. It isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of the ones targeting you.”
“You’re not mad?” Kaname said timidly.
“No, it’s all right. I just... envy you and Sagar
a-san so much that it sometimes upsets me.” Tessa let out a big sigh. Then she shook her head, as if to drive out the bad feelings. “But! I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet.”
“Huh?” Kaname blinked.
“I’m refraining while we’re on maneuvers, of course,” Tessa teased. “But you should know that in peacetime, on the base, he and I meet up frequently.”
“R-Really?”
“Yes. Not long ago, the two of us slipped out of the base, and went to a deserted beach...”
“A b-beach?”
Tessa giggled. “The rest is a secret.”
“H-Hey!” Kaname found herself leaning forward, but Tessa just shrugged.
“Now we’re even, Kaname-san. I love Sagara-san. And until you admit that you do as well, the score will remain tied.”
“Come on! I’m telling you, I don’t—” Kaname got that far, then suddenly wondered why she was getting so upset. She stared into Tessa’s teasing eyes for just a second, then began to laugh, as if all the tension was leaving her body. “Well, whatever.”
“Indeed.” Tessa giggled. They shared their laughter for quite a while, completely at ease. Just a few minutes ago, things had felt as grave as if the end of the world was coming... and now it was all forgotten.
To think that talking about that war-obsessed fool Sousuke could bring this kind of relief... Kaname whispered a thank-you to him in her heart. (Though she’d be keeping that “deserted beach” talk tucked away in her mental arsenal.)
“That’s about all I needed to talk with you about. But there’s one last thing,” Tessa said after their laughter died down. “The things that I’ve told you, particularly regarding the Whispered, are only known to a select few at Mithril. Not even Sagara-san, Weber-san, and Melissa know about it.”
“You mean... it’s top secret, right?” Kaname checked.
“Correct. In fact, it has an even higher classification rating—it is a ‘black fact.’” Tessa’s voice wasn’t especially grim; there was nothing hushed or threatening in her tone, but that just gave it all the more weight of reality. “So... I want you to make me a promise. Promise that you will not tell anyone else about this. Not Sagara-san, not your friends at school, not your family... especially not your father, who likely does not look kindly on organizations such as Mithril.”