Beatless: Volume 2

by Satoshi Hase

  “We’ve concluded our business,” she said. “We won, folks.” They had won, and someone had run off with Kouka’s device. The human world was full of conspiracies just like this one, but it left a bad taste in Collidenne’s mouth. That smile, blooming among the flames of the battle, was still burned into her memory.

  So, she smoked her cigarette and called Sest over a secret line. 〈I’ll send you a personnel list. Call them up tonight,〉 she said. Collidenne had decided to assemble a research team with members from the special forces and information group. If the Japanese army intel departments started looking into things, it would be too late for HOO to start planning their own strategy. They needed to get started on their own research before that happened. If they didn’t hit the ground running right then, HOO would probably be bled dry by the battles against the other Lacia-class units.

  ***

  Arato Endo was in his room, unable to take his eyes away from the stream. He was still connected with Kengo Sugiri, and his eyes shone with tears that he couldn’t quite fight down. “Why?” was all he could say. He had believed that Kouka was one of the more tender-hearted of the Lacia-class units. He never would have believed she would go out like that—like a terrorist, spewing hatred for the world as she basically self-destructed. hIEs were heartless, Arato knew that. But he had still believed that the smile she’d showed him, and the way she had saved his life, had held some special meaning.

  On the other side of the pocket terminal call, Kengo looked exhausted. It seemed as though a great weight had fallen from his shoulders, but it was obvious that he wasn’t happy to have it gone. 〈You should know this by now, Arato,〉 he said, tiredly. 〈There’s nothing gentle or kind about the world we live in.〉

  His friend’s exasperated voice pierced right through Arato’s ribs and into his heart. “Why the hell are you even starting to say that kind of crap now?” Arato asked.

  〈Maybe because I’m tired. Maybe because I understand wanting to wrap things up already,〉 Kengo said. 〈I did the right thing, but it was also something unbelievably cruel. I feel frustrated, but at the same time I also feel like this is just the way things are meant to be.〉

  Arato felt like the terminal in his hand was cold as ice. In that moment, destiny was shifting its course, and nothing he could do would stop it. “Kengo... Kengo...” he tried to think of something to say. He knew it wasn’t right, but he couldn’t keep the words from bursting from his throat. “Kengo! You’ve got to run!” he yelled.

  〈I can’t run, obviously,〉 Kengo said with a frustrated sigh. 〈Just hear me out: I think I can understand why she did that. I think it’s when your back’s up against the wall that you can see what’s in front of you the most clearly. Can you hear that? There are sirens coming.〉 He paused, and then Arato’s friend said, 〈Looks like they’re coming to take me in.〉

  “What the hell!” Arato yelled. “Why are you getting arrested?”

  〈Why do the police usually arrest someone? Because I’ve done something wrong.〉

  “Not because you wanted to!” Through the terminal, Arato could hear the doorbell ringing at Kengo’s house. At that moment, there were police officers standing at the entrance to the Sugiri family restaurant.

  〈You had police come to your place too, right?〉 Kengo asked. 〈Didn’t you realize then that this was the way things were headed? The world never stops moving, Arato.〉

  Arato couldn’t understand what Kengo was saying; he wasn’t as smart as his friend. He had never even recognized the urgency in Kengo as his friend was being chased further and further into this hole that he couldn’t escape from. After Arato saved him from the terrorists at the Oi Industry Promotion Center, he had thought things would take at least one step back towards normal. But the gears that had been put in motion at that point couldn’t be stopped.

  On the other end of the call, Kengo began to cry. 〈Sorry, I called you because I was too afraid to face this alone. I’m no smarter than you. For some reason, I felt a little happy, watching her blow the shit out of that building.〉

  Though it was a voice-only call, Arato could picture his friend trying to force a smile on the other side. Even though he was hearing them through the call, the chaotic footsteps running up the stairs in Kengo’s house sounded clear to Arato.

  〈I’m hanging up,〉Kengo said. And he did.

  Silence descended onto the room, quiet as if the world itself had ended. When Arato looked at his terminal, there was a notification that the call had been ended. It also displayed information about his last call with Kengo; it had lasted twelve minutes and six seconds.

  The next sound that came out of Arato’s mouth was neither weakness nor anger. It was just a name. “Lacia.”

  As if she had been listening close by for his call, she immediately opened the door to his room. The girl who had asked Arato to design a future and warned him not to be mislead by Erika looked at him with an earnest expression. Quietly, she came to his side.

  But, before she could reach out and touch him, words blurted from his mouth. “Kouka’s dead,” he told her.

  “I know,” she said.

  He hadn’t been quite sure since Kouka’s stream had been cut off, but hearing Lacia say it confirmed the truth. It had really happened. The future that Erika had spoken so highly of had been smashed to the ground.

  “Kengo’s been arrested,” he said next.

  “It appears so,” Lacia agreed.

  At the thought that Lacia had probably predicted that exact thing happening, anger welled up inside of him. She should have known it was something he wouldn’t think of, she should have told him. She had no empathy for what Arato was feeling. If he didn’t give her the order, she wouldn’t lift a finger to help.

  “Lacia, rescue him. He’s my friend,” he said.

  Her gentle response shocked him. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean!” Arato yelled. “You knew this was going to happen, right? So you already had something arranged for when it happened, right?”

  “I predicted this outcome,” she agreed. “However, in order to halt this arrest, it would be necessary to bring you into conflict with an enemy that would force you to discard the life you live at this moment.”

  “Why is that not okay this time?!” Arato demanded. “You had no problem helping me rescue Kengo back when he got caught up in that terrorist attack.”

  “I do not have a heart,” Lacia said. “But you do, and you will feel guilt when you commit immoral acts. Many people have already been impacted by the choices you have made, and, as data cannot simply be deleted from human minds, I am aware that it will take many years for the negative feelings to fade from your mind. Aside from which, as Kengo has been labeled as the worst kind of criminal, even if he was saved from arrest now, it is entirely possible that he would be unable to return to society.”

  It was like Arato was being blamed for something he had no control over. He also got the feeling that things could have turned out better if he had just handled things better.

  “If you are alright with the idea of throwing away your current life and living in the shadows of society, I can fulfill your request,” Lacia added. “But, think of what would happen to Miss Yuka and her life.” She was right. She always was.

  “But Kengo’s my friend,” Arato said. He knew what he was considering was wrong in the eyes of society. Still, he had taken insane risks before and come through fine in the end thanks to Lacia. She had given him an illusion of invulnerability.

  But Arato’s naive confidence did not reflect reality. It was just as Kengo had said; even though Arato felt like the future had changed the day he met Lacia, reality wasn’t that simple. A younger Arato, the Arato who had survived being swallowed in a sea of flame, would have understood that better.

  “If I had just used you better it never would have turned out like this,” Arato said.

  “If I may speak frankly, you are correct. If you we
re capable of utilizing my functions correctly, altering this outcome would have been within the limits of possibility,” Lacia replied, without missing a beat.

  “Hey, you didn’t have to say it like that,” Arato protested. Her criticism hurt, even though he knew she was right. When things were that messed up, he couldn’t just expect to snap his fingers and fix everything back to the way it had been. He felt stupid for even thinking it was possible.

  “If you are able to design a suitable future, I will make that future a reality for you,” Lacia said. “However, if you wish to continue living after that future comes to pass, and maintain a certain standard of life, the cost increases greatly. It is much easier to change just you to fit the new future than to change all of society to fit the life you wish to lead.” Lacia said this like it was an unimportant point, as if him giving up some things and the entirety of human society changing somehow weighed equally on a metaphorical scale.

  Even Kouka had said that Lacia was different. Her presence alone seemed to bend the air around her with a strange, unknown pressure.

  “If you are unsatisfied with reality as it is now, why not use the future you design to eliminate the elements that displease you?” she suggested, reaching out her hand. As if to avoid it, Arato stood without her help.

  Lacia was a machine much better at manipulating people’s perceptions than even humans were. Thinking of that reminded Arato of how she had used her analog hacking to drive up the prices of the items she advertised as an hIE model. All a cup needed to have special value to someone was to have a certain character printed on it. Arato suddenly started to wonder if what he saw right in front of his face was actually reality or not.

  “Lacia, don’t you think it’s about time to tell me everything?” he asked. “You’ve been hiding something since we first met!” It was pathetic, pushing all of his problems onto her. It was the first time he had raised his voice at her, too. The one bothered most by his shouting was Arato himself. Just like how Kengo was going to be locked up, Arato felt like reality was pressing in on him. Lacia had become his whole world, and he knew nothing about her.

  “Can you withstand reality?” she asked him gently, heartlessly.

  For the first time since the night they had met, Arato regretted forging a contract with her.

  Phase10「Plus One」

  Ryo Kaidai heard the results of the Hands of Operation’s mission and news of Kengo Sugiri’s arrest at the same time. It was 9:00 PM, and he was sitting in a Japanese restaurant near MemeFrame.

  Normally, a high school student like him wouldn’t be seen at the kind of business dinner he was attending at that moment, but he had been invited to attend by the Computer Faction. Once again, on paper, he was there accompanying Professor Shinohara.

  “I’ve just received confirmation that Kouka has been shot down. There are now only four Lacia-class units left,” Ryo reported. He didn’t mention the theft of Kouka’s device. Shinohara seemed to be focusing all his attention on the food in front of him. The professor seemed to be taking responsibility for bringing Ryo and Ginga Watarai together by looking after Ryo now that Watarai was gone. It wasn’t a role he fulfilled well; he was far too weak for it.

  “Shinohara, shall I pour you another?” Shunji Suzuhara, the man they were here to meet, was a man in his fifties. He had a squarish face and black hair shot through with silver. At the moment, he was waving a bottle of sake at Shinohara. Shunji was going to be the next director of the Strategic Planning Department. As the current head of the Planning Section of the Corporate Strategy Department, he was a strong player in the company. He was also a member of the Human Faction. He was jealous of Shinohara, and far from powerless.

  “Kaidai, you need to pay better attention to your manners,” Suzuhara commented. “At times like this, it’s the responsibility of the young to see to the needs of their elders.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ryo said. “I still have a lot to learn.”

  It had been Suzuhara who had chosen the Japanese restaurant for their meeting. As was common in such places, they were kneeling on the floor to eat. Suzuhara had chosen the place because he knew that Methode wouldn’t be able to join them; her metal legs looked like long boots when she wore her skirt normally, but in a place where she would be forced to take off her shoes, they would stand out like a sore thumb.

  “Well, I’m glad that Kouka’s gone,” Suzuhara said. “But, just between us, she wasn’t the one who caused that explosion at the Chubu Airport.” Since he was off work, Suzuhara was drinking like a fish.

  Shinohara, still stressed out from the meeting with HOO that evening, was also drowning his worries in drink. Leaving all the talking to Ryo, he instead applied himself to gulping down bites of tuna with thick fat shining on it.

  “On the outside, we’ve placed the responsibility on Kouka, yes,” Ryo agreed. “And if your group could cover for it inside the company, Mr. Suzuhara, I would be very grateful.”

  “That’s a bit indelicate, I think,” Suzuhara told him. “Up until recently, I was watching over your sister, Shiori, in the company. Just like that man by your side is watching over you.”

  “Oh, no, I wouldn’t say I’m watching over him,” Shinohara protested, blushing bright red and spluttering his denials. “I don’t believe I could ever be useful to Ryo. He may still be in high school, but he’s already quite the prodigy.”

  A look of disappointment crossed Suzuhara’s face. “Shiori had a strong sense of responsibility, and I was looking forward to seeing where she could take things,” he sighed. “But after sustaining injuries like those, I’m sure that President Kaidai will want to keep her away from company dealings, going forward.”

  This night’s meeting was a chance for the Computer Faction to capture an important piece from the opponents’ side of the board; Suzuhara had been held responsible for Shiori’s severe injuries, and his position in his own faction had crumbled. Ryo was there hoping to bring him over to their side.

  “What happened with Kouka’s device?” Suzuhara asked. “I heard they weren’t able to get it back. It was encrypted, but it contained all of Kouka’s data, as well as all sorts of customer feedback about hIEs.”

  So he already knows about it, Ryo thought. He was honestly astonished by how fast information got around. The Lacia-class units had originally been designed as ultra high-performance autonomous data receptacles that could carry off and protect vital company data when needed. Thinking of how much effort it would take to get them all back made Ryo’s shoulders feel heavy.

  “Well, I’m sure someone will figure something out,” Suzuhara said, making the observation as if it had now become someone else’s problem. Clearly, he felt that his own role in ongoing affairs had been concluded.

  “It’s a difficult problem,” Shinohara said, then he started coughing fitfully. He clapped a hand to his mouth to cover the coughing. It was no surprise that he was having trouble breathing right, considering how much sake he’d been gulping down since their arrival.

  After he caught his breath, Shinohara continued, “But MemeFrame has gotten through problems like this one before.”

  “And how exactly are you going to get through this one?” Suzuhara pressed. “Let me guess; you’re going to go ask Higgins? How long do you and your people plan on leaving everything up to that computer, Shinohara?” The more Suzuhara spoke to Shinohara, the sharper the look in his eyes became.

  But, for his part, Shinohara was an expert in this particular area. “Higgins is able to run a miniature simulation of the world for its AASC precisely because it is already calculating the movements of the world,” he said defensively. “But, in order to compress everything down to a chessboard where Higgins can move around the hIEs, it requires an incredible amount of calculations beforehand. Everyone who works at our company should already be aware of this. Higgins is an expert at shrinking down the frame problem, but only because it’s able to calculate all this data from politics, economics, human resources, and logis
tics. That’s what keeps the AASC running, and the AASC keeps our whole society running. It’s a necessary evil.”

  “A necessary evil? That’s what you’re going to boil this all down to? I suppose you would,” Suzuhara growled back.

  “Even ultra high-performance AIs would start to develop strengths and weaknesses in different areas if you make it work on the exact same problems over and over. We can’t have that happen to Higgins; it’s in charge of giving hIEs their adaptability. If Higgins can’t always keep one step ahead of the world with it’s calculations, it won’t be able to create ways to adapt to new things,” Shinohara pointed out. “And, honestly, I’d consider that prior knowledge to be a bit of a bonus, for us.”

  “A bonus?” Suzuhara sounded disgusted. “I know there are plenty of people on your side who think our business isn’t serving humans, but rather serving Higgins. And yet you honestly think you can call the information it gives us a bonus?”

  A confrontational light began to shine in Shinohara’s eyes. “If we don’t want Higgins’ capabilities to slip away, we have to allow it to grow,” he said. “If Higgins’ capabilities drop, it will impact our stocks and corporate strategy. The International Artificial Intelligence Association understands that, and that’s why they allow for some level of independent growth in AIs. All the companies with ultra high-performance AIs are doing it.” Ryo was surprised to see that the cowardly professor had so much to say.

  “Alright, granted,” Suzuhara said. “But having Higgins make our hIE behavior programs for us and running to it to guide us every time the company is in danger are two completely different things, don’t you think?”

  Suzuhara had touched on the very root of anti-MemeFrame sentiment. Inside and outside the company, there were those who referred to them as being Higgins’ drones. Members of the Computer Faction made money by just sitting around and letting the computer do all their work for them.

  No one who might lose their job wanted to take on the risk of taking leadership. Those with power also avoided stepping out into the spotlight. So, Higgins’ drones wanted someone they could all agree on to put a human face on things. That was why Ryo, Methode’s owner, was involved in these negotiations.