by Shouji Gatou
“That girl...?!” Gauron gritted his teeth, but Tessa just smiled.
“Incredible, isn’t she? Even if you kill me, she will protect this vessel,” Tessa told him. “And, in addition...” Just then, the locks on the control room doors released.
The port side entrance slid open, and a soldier carrying a pistol—Sousuke—burst in like a whirlwind. He didn’t say a single word. In almost the same moment, Gauron fired his submachine gun in a broad sweep, but Sousuke rolled to the floor and returned fire with his pistol.
Gauron yelped as he took a bullet in the left shoulder. Then he took a stumbling step back, leaped at Tessa, and grabbed her as a hostage. Sousuke, uninjured in the crossfire, quickly took shelter behind a console.
“Is that you, Kashim?!” Gauron asked.
“There’s nowhere for you to run. Surrender,” Sousuke demanded.
Gauron smiled and pointed the submachine gun at Tessa’s chin. “You really believe I’d do that? Think again, honey.”
“I thought not.” Sousuke’s gun was trained on Gauron. He wanted to shoot him right in the head, but Gauron moved Tessa’s body back and forth, skillfully using her as a shield.
“Sagara-san! Don’t worry about me,” Tessa yelled. “Just do it!”
Dragging the screaming Tessa with him, Gauron moved back. His plan seemed to be to leave through the other door—the control room entrance on the starboard side. Silently, Sousuke mustered up all his concentration and pointed his gun at Gauron’s forehead—at the scar he himself had left there three years ago.
The same moment he pulled the trigger, a violent jolt ran through the control room. Everyone present was thrown, cast against the floor, walls, and even the ceiling.
Completing its rapid rise, the de Danaan burst into the open air. Unleashed from the stormy ocean surface, its skyscraper-sized hull towered against the raging, empty sky, its flood ports gushing like waterfalls.
As it reached its summit, its momentum slowed, then reversed, and when it finally hit the water, it did so like the hammer of the gods. There was a sound like a thunderclap as tens of thousands of tons of submarine slammed against the ocean’s surface.
The hull was sturdy enough to endure this unleashed force. Its bow sawed up and down, releasing new surges of seaspray, but still remained afloat in the middle of the storm. The sky was gray all around. The waves were raging, and wind and rain pelted the boat from the side. It was impossible to steer in such ongoing tumult, but at least, the Tuatha de Danaan was still in one piece.
The submarine was rocking. Kaname let out a whimper; she could feel its pain. “Ah...” Her backbone ached, and her skin was burning in places. No, this pain wasn’t coming from her body—it just felt like it. She was ensconced in the deepest recesses of the Tuatha de Danaan. She was one with it.
The TAROS—this mysterious platform that enveloped her—read her brainwaves and her body’s action potential and matched them to the boat’s control system. There were some—like Sousuke and Gauron—who could momentarily link up with a TAROS. But continuous mental communication with it, and the ability to freely navigate the omni-sphere, were limited to Whispered like her and Tessa. Omni-sphere—that which lay beyond substance. There were many ways to draw out its power using a TAROS as a mediator—her synchronizing with the sub was one option of many, she knew, and the lambda driver was another.
The reactor was her heart; the ballast tanks, her lungs; the pipes running through it, her veins and arteries; the hydroplanes, her wings. They all served and obeyed her, even more loyally than her own body did. Even the Mother AI, Dana, showed her fealty; if she said “die,” it would shut down; if she said “restore the captain,” it would erase the erroneous transfer record.
Kaname heard a sound; it came from deep below the chaotic sea. Another torpedo is coming, she realized. It’s coming at me. Straight at me. But she knew there was no reason to worry. Tessa had said so.
The jolt from their swift rise had been greater than expected. It caused Sousuke to drop his gun and hit the back of his head on a console panel. A normal person might have been knocked out cold, but Sousuke just shook his head, gritted his teeth, and managed to sit himself up. He looked around the control room. The chained-together crew had ended up in a pile, groaning and cursing. Tessa lay limply by the starboard side entrance.
Gauron was nowhere to be seen; he must have escaped in the chaos. Dammit! Sousuke thought. He still had the devil’s own luck—it was as if Death itself were on the man’s side. Sousuke picked up his gun and moved to pursue him.
“Sergeant!” Captain Goddard called. “Untie us first. There’s another torpedo coming; we need to take control back at once.”
Sousuke gritted his teeth. “Understood.” That was right; he had to look after Tessa, too. Sousuke ran up to the crew and blasted the handcuff chains away with his gun.
The crew, finally freed, rushed to their seats. But the approaching torpedo was too close, and their emergency rise meant they couldn’t dive again immediately. It was also hard to move properly in the storm; there was no dodging this one.
“One ADCAP on bearing 2-7-8! Range 60... 50! We’re done for!” shouted Sergeant Dejirani, who had flown into the sonar room.
The pings were getting closer and closer, and the front screen display showed the torpedo mark overlapping with the de Danaan. The crew tensed up, preparing for the explosion, and Sousuke crouched down on the floor to cover the unconscious Tessa.
They all braced for impact, but the impact never came. The torpedo passed straight under the de Danaan and began circling in confusion. It came for them several times, but never ascended past a certain depth; it just kept circling around them like a lost child.
“What’s going on?” Sousuke asked, gazing at the screen.
“Of course... the torpedo’s safety,” Goddard whispered, releasing the chair he was clinging to. “There are US ships nearby, so the other submarine programmed its torpedoes not to go higher than a certain depth, to avoid mistakenly hitting their allies.” Tessa’s use of the emergency blow must have been in anticipation of this second shot; she had even taken their depth safety into account.
“She’s incredible, I tell you...” Goddard sighed. They were safe. The crew exchanged awkward smiles as that fact sank in.
“Captain, sir. Please look after the Colonel. I’m going after that man,” Sousuke said, looking down on the limp, faintly-breathing girl.
“Right, got it,” Goddard agreed. “Take care, Sergeant.”
Sousuke ran off. Gauron... A premonition washed over him. Something in the back of his mind told him that it was finally time for their reckoning.
USS Pasadena
“It missed again?! Dammit!” Captain Sailor shouted and stamped.
“They seem to have anticipated the torpedo’s safety setting,” XO Takenaka noted. “Or it could be a coincidence...”
“Shut up,” Sailor snarled. “Remove the depth safety and fire again. Flood tubes one and two!”
The Pasadena hadn’t given up. It had begun its rise to fire another round of torpedoes.
Tuatha de Danaan
The main hangar was in chaos.
After being given an oxygen mask by a subordinate, Lieutenant Colonel Mardukas had regained consciousness, only for the shockwave to hit them shortly after. He’d recognized the procedure for the emergency blow, and through his hazy consciousness, he’ managed to give the order, “grab on to something!” Most of the crew shakily did as they were told. But because the hangar was in the fore, the amplitude of its motion during the rise was especially severe. The crew were slammed hard against the floor and ended up with injuries both large and small. Some of them might take months to heal.
Mardukas himself had sprained his left elbow and taken a scrape along his temple. His head was shooting with pain. The frame of his glasses had bent, and one cracked lens remained only tenuously in place.
They’d managed to avoid calamity thanks to various helicopters, ASes, carts
, and ammo crates remaining secured in place on their hooks; even one of those large machines coming loose and crashing through the hangar could have killed dozens. It was a valuable lesson in the importance of keeping the hangar locked down. He’d continue to be rigorous about these guidelines in the future, Mardukas decided.
At some point, the tightly sealed doors cutting them off from the rest of the sub had come unlocked, and the life support system had resumed normal functions, as had all other locks and machinery. Mardukas didn’t even have to give the order for any uninjured crew to fly out of the hangar and run to their stations. Those who didn’t have other pressing duties helped get the seriously wounded to the sick bay.
While shouts flew back and forth, he picked up the receiver for the internal phone line. “Control room here.” It was Goddard.
“It’s me,” Mardukas said tersely. “What’s happening? Explain.”
“XO, you’re safe!” Goddard exclaimed with relief. “It’s that terrorist... he took over the AI. The bastard was making the boat his plaything, but the captain managed to stop him. Dana is restored. I’m telling you, that girl is really—”
“Where is the terrorist now?” Mardukas asked, inferring from his words that the captain was safe.
“He escaped. He must still be hiding somewhere. I was about to make an announcement to warn—”
“Hurry up, you great fool! Don’t forget to include his build and appearance!” Mardukas knew that Goddard was busy with his checks, but he found himself losing his temper anyway. “Ah, pardon me. Once you’ve done it, send security to the reactor, the engine room, and the Lady Chapel. We need four armed soldiers to—” Mardukas got that far before he stopped.
His eyes had fallen on a soldier running along the other side of the hangar. He was East Asian, dressed in fatigues and bleeding from one shoulder. He was also holding a submachine gun. Mardukas couldn’t quite make out the man’s face; he was too far away, on top of his glasses being broken.
“XO...?” prompted Goddard.
Most of the men here were injured, and there were plenty of East Asian crewmen on board. Still, it was strange... Why was the soldier running toward the red AS they had captured in Perio? Why was he hooking up the generator’s power cables with such practiced motions?
“Goddard. Is the terrorist... injured?”
“Yes, sir. Sergeant Sagara shot him—”
“In the left shoulder?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, no...” Mardukas dropped the receiver and broke into a run. “Someone! Anyone, stop him! The red AS...!” he shouted, and those attending to the wounded nearby turned back to look. Several of the young soldiers broke out in a run, passing Mardukas.
But the hangar was too large, and the red AS too far way. The sailors closest to the AS realized it a moment later and likewise ran for the machine, but the terrorist turned to them and released a full auto burst from his submachine gun. Caught off guard, the sailors jumped aside and retreated behind the mini-trailers and ammo containers.
Unfortunately, that red AS, the Venom, had been fixed to the floor face-down with its cockpit hatch left open. It took the terrorist less than a second to jump in, and the Venom’s cockpit hatch slid closed with him inside. It was over; their human-scale pistols and rifles wouldn’t even leave a dent in its hide.
“Take the injured and evacuate the hangar! I don’t care where you go, just run!” Mardukas stood there, pale and stock still, shouting at the soldiers around him. Then, he heard a dull fwish: the Venom had activated its generator and unlocked its joints. The red machine began to tremble as power flowed through it. First its fingers, then its arms, then its legs began to move, and one after another, it snapped off the wires that were holding it down. The wires wriggled like snakes as they came free, then sparked as they struck the floor.
“It’s not over... It’s not over yet,” the man’s voice said over the external speakers. The Venom stood, the top of its head almost touching the ceiling, as it released a muffled laugh. It reached for a nearby weapons container and tore it open with incredible power.
There were about fifty soldiers left in the hangar. Most of them recognized the danger and began to run, helping the injured to flee as well.
They knew that if left to run free, that thing would destroy the boat. But they still couldn’t afford to use infantry anti-tank rockets or anti-AS mines to attack it. The munitions storage and the torpedo room were right next to the hangar; so were the VLS missile tubes, and their onboard aircraft’s jet fuel stocks. If set off, the explosive power of all combined would blow open the sub a hundred times over.
“XO, you need to get to safety, too!”
“I will,” Mardukas promised. “But—”
A sound came from another direction. One of the de Danaan’s ASes, parked and secured a ways away from the Venom, sparked up its generator and released its own joint locks. The AS’s keen eyes flashed red for a split second. It gathered power, raised a knee, and snapped the wires holding it down, one after another.
Sergeant Sagara? Mardukas wondered.
The ARX-7 Arbalest rose to its feet heavily, as somewhere outside, a high wave caused the vessel to pitch to the right. Sousuke’s cockpit screens relayed the images picked up by the Arbalest’s dual sensors. The red AS was directly ahead of him, in the direction of the bow. Sousuke and Gauron faced off from opposite ends of the oblong hangar.
Showdown. Sousuke remembered that word. This man had had his way with them time and again. No one had ever given their battle group, the Tuatha de Danaan, so much trouble.
It’s time to admit it, Sousuke thought. I’m terrified of you, Gauron. Three years ago, you stole everyone from me: Hamdollah, with his electronics shop; the valiant Muhammad; the cynical Halili; so many of my allies. Even that old warrior who taught me the ABCs of battle—Yaqub. You killed them all. That was the first time in my life I’d ever felt a sense of loss.
When I stand in front of you, I can feel my legs shaking. I start thinking I can’t take anymore. I start wanting to run away. That’s right... And now, you’re trying to take everyone from me again: Kurz, Mao, Yang, Tessa; so many of my allies. And... Kaname. You’re trying to kill them all. But that’s one thing I won’t let you do. Do you hear me? That’s one thing I can’t allow. And that’s why—
“I’m going to kill you,” Sousuke whispered, and his machine fluidly obeyed his will. Its underarm weapons rack screeched open, and he drew his monomolecular cutter. As if fueled by a will of iron, the Arbalest held the knife forward.
Gauron just chuckled. “I’m so happy, Kashim.” The Venom pulled a monomolecular cutter from the weapons container and crouched down, ready.
Both machines activated their cutters in the same instant. Their internal motors sent their micro chainsaw edges into a high-speed whir, causing an ear-shattering whine to echo throughout the hangar.
Both took a half-step forward, then another half-step. The ASes were an extension of the trained soldiers’ bodies. If two machines had about the same specs, combat would be decided by the operators’ skill—their ability to smell death, and their cool-headed killer instinct. The two eight-meter-tall machines inched closer and closer to each other, neither offering a moment’s opening. Though their bodies seemed tense from top to bottom, their movements were smooth and relaxed. Then, the instant they were within range, both knives lashed out into arcs.
There was a flash, and a cut appeared in the Venom’s armor. The left arm—it was shallow. The Arbalest drew back again.
“Oh?” Gauron breathed in surprise.
Sousuke didn’t respond. He wasn’t going to give him a moment to rest. He dipped his machine low and stepped in, sweeping his knife in a wide stroke. The Venom drew its right leg back and, barely dodging the flash, swung the knife down diagonally from its shoulder. The Arbalest knocked its arm away and tried to grab the Venom to throw it off balance. But, the opponent remained just out of its grasp. The Venom tried to grab the Arbalest’s arm
instead, but Sousuke cut at it. On and on the knives collided; they feinted, stabbed, dodged, moved, slashed, sliced...
The back-and-forth was visibly accelerating. Attacks that had come once per breath now came two or three times. They lashed out, cunning and calculated, fast enough to leave afterimages. And every single one of them—every single move—was infused with the desire to kill.
Metal crashed against metal. Sparks flew. “Yes, yes, yes! Move! Faster!” Gauron screamed joyously.
He’s playing with me! Sousuke’s eyes went wide. He drove his concentration past its limits, letting the moment stretch out to eternity. The Arbalest grabbed the wrist of the Venom’s knife hand. Relying solely on his machine’s power, Sousuke pulled the arm in, and thrust a knee into the enemy’s side.
“Guh?!” Gauron grunted, as the Venom flew back into a hangar wall. It crushed a steel framework, smashed through some pipes, and caused a lighting fixture to fall from the ceiling, raining glass fragments down.
Sousuke jumped his machine in pursuit and struck out with its knife. No mercy—the Arbalest’s monomolecular cutter stuck into the Venom’s left shoulder, and the enemy’s armor came with it as he pulled it back. Before he could thrust again, though, the Venom’s left hand pointed its index finger at the Arbalest’s abdomen.
Sousuke gasped. He felt an impact. This time, it was the Arbalest that was slammed into the wall. It was that “finger gun” that had taken Mao out—a directed shockwave, produced by the lambda driver. Even though he’d taken it head-on, the Arbalest had suffered no internal damage; was it the lambda driver’s counter-field, activating now? Actually... had the device been active much longer, since the moment his first strike damaged the Venom? Sousuke decided not to give it any more thought.
Destroy the enemy in front of me, he reminded himself. That’s all that matters right now. The force of hitting the wall had knocked the wind out of him, and he felt a sharp pain run down his ribs, but Sousuke ignored it and charged the Venom. He’d kicked aside a small trailer in the process, but he didn’t care. He could hear a feral growling—it was his own voice.