A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 15

by Kazuma Kamachi

  “Oh, was that all you wanted? I would think you’d want to ask more pressing questions.”

  “I don’t trust you enough to put my life in your hands.”

  “A scathing critique,” answered the composed male voice. “Strictly speaking, the ‘laser’ on board the Altair II is an optical bombing weapon using white light waves. And it’s not currently at a military stage, but an experimental one. It uses four-thousand-degree heat to burn a target, but the white light waves are strong enough to destroy cell nuclei just like ultraviolet rays. It causes a rapid onset of cancer.”

  A fool’s weapon, thought Accelerator, but he didn’t say it. “…Irradiation scope?”

  “It has a five-meter radius at minimum, and three kilometers at maximum. Its rapid-fire capabilities don’t amount to much—you could maybe be able to fire it once per hour,” explained the man airily. “Also, since the atmosphere refracts the white light in a random fashion, there is something of a variation regarding precision as well. It’s still in the experimental phase, after all.”

  Accelerator said no more and hung up.

  He stared at the phone and used the gun in his other hand to prod the driver again, thinking in the convertible’s passenger seat, It can burn a radius of three kilometers? What the hell are they gonna use that for…?

  Then his phone’s ringtone went off.

  He thought it was the telephone man again, but it wasn’t.

  “Accelerator…that’s you, right? It’s Unabara.”

  He was keeping his voice down—actually, it was like he had his hand over the microphone, making it hard to hear.

  “I’m in disguise, so just talking in this voice is dangerous. I’d like to keep it short.”

  “What, slipping out of School’s sight to whisper some secrets? Sorry, but I ain’t helping you. I have to go stop the satellites from getting hacked. If you’re gonna stop ’em, though, I’ll gladly hear you out.”

  “It’s not School.”

  “Eh?”

  “Right now, I’m with Block, not School. They’re the ones hacking the satellites.”

  “…”

  According to Unabara, another organization besides School, one called Block, was using this day to plot criminal activity. “What a pain. What the hell happened to School trying to snipe Monaka Oyafune, then?”

  “Please don’t ask me…Wait, sniping?” repeated Unabara dubiously before getting the conversation back on track. “They attacked the Virus Storage Center and the external connection terminals beforehand, so Academy City’s network teams are in total confusion. At this rate…they’ll finish the hacking in twenty minutes or so, and Altair II will fall into Block’s hands.”

  “Pieces of shit,” spat Accelerator. “…Why doesn’t District 23 shut down satellite control temporarily?”

  “They probably have a few reasons. I would imagine they need at least an hour to freeze control if they went by the normal manual process.”

  The money that went into space-related business was on a completely different level. He understood they’d incur heavy damages if they cut off their link to their satellites, even temporarily. But they should’ve cut the lines as soon as they saw the hacking attempt, he thought with irritation.

  “What the hell is Block trying to do with Altair II?”

  “You’ve probably imagined, but…They want the optical weapon on board.”

  “A deal?”

  “No, it’s likely to be a direct attack.”

  Accelerator swore. “What’s their target?”

  “…District 13.”

  “District 13?” Accelerator frowned. Tsuchimikado and Musujime were headed to the external connection terminal there now. Could they be trying to take out Group…?

  He thought about it for a moment, but decided that wasn’t it. They went through all the trouble of hijacking a satellite—it was too big, and too unsure to do the job. Group wouldn’t necessarily have jumped in to solve an incident if it happened.

  “They’re aiming there? The only important place there is the terminal. It’s just a clump of kindergartens and elementary schools, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but that is their target.” Unabara sounded angry in his explanation, and his voice was low and bitter. “District 13 has the most kindergartens and elementary schools in the city. Attacking it will let them massacre most of the city’s youngest residents. What happens then? …Frankly, if I were a parent, I wouldn’t want my kids to go there.”

  “…”

  “Academy City is a city of students. No matter how many people live here, they’ll all graduate one day. If they don’t have any new students coming in, the population will decrease, and in the end, the city will cease to function.”

  “…So they want to slowly kill this city over decades?”

  In reality, due to all the scientific technology Academy City commanded, from a financial point of view, it wouldn’t go down that easily. An Academy City without any children, however, would still be equivalent to taking away its reason for existence.

  Accelerator thought for a moment. “Can you stop it from there?”

  “If I could, I wouldn’t be asking you.”

  “Can we get everyone in District 13 to evacuate?”

  “If we caused a panic, the kids could start falling all over one another throughout the district. And, lest you forget, today is a holiday. The teachers might be able to round up their own kids in the dormitories, but probably not all the ones outside playing.”

  “Useless. Looks like I’m just gonna have to wreck the ground antenna they use to talk to the satellite.”

  “I’ll leave it in your hands. Meanwhile, I’ll continue gathering information and get as much of it to you as I can,” said Unabara, hanging up.

  Accelerator put the cell back in his pocket and looked ahead at where the convertible was going. Twenty more minutes, and they’ll hijack Altair II.

  The car would get to District 23 in about ten minutes.

  It didn’t look like he had any time to relax.

  “Hurry up. We’ve got a tight schedule,” he said, poking the man with his gun again so he’d understand. The convertible faithfully sped up.

  10

  Kazari Uiharu and Last Order were on a District 7 station platform. This was apparently Last Order’s first time on a train and she wanted to run all over, so Uiharu was holding her hand.

  Seriously…Why did this happen to me?

  At first, she’d given her the change from the taxi and handed her over to Anti-Skill, but somehow, with some sort of power, Last Order had broken out of the police station before Uiharu knew it and was prowling around the crowds of the city again. Uiharu figured she’d get the same result no matter how many times she left the girl with Anti-Skill, which was why she was helping her look for “the lost child” now.

  I wonder what Last Order’s ability is.

  She’d only asked one question, and that resulted in finding out she had a nickname Uiharu couldn’t begin to guess the origin of. Ability names came in two flavors: the simple ones that the school gave you, like telekinesis or electromastery, and the ones the students gave themselves, like Railgun. She probably decided her own ability name, too, thought Uiharu offhandedly.

  “‘Why won’t the train come?’ asks Misaka asks Misaka, tilting her head in confusion.”

  “It looks like a freight train is coming through. By the way, where do you think the lost child is right now?”

  “‘Hmm, well, I feel like he’s coming this way,’ answers Misaka answers Misaka, making little frowny lines on her forehead.”

  It seemed as though Last Order was using some kind of ability to search for the missing person, but it didn’t appear very precise.

  “‘I hope we can find him like this,’ says Misaka says Misaka, down in the dumps.”

  “It’ll be okay.”

  “‘Thank you for the super-lazy encouragement,’ says Misaka says Misaka, thanking her anyway.”

  “So tha
t your silly hair strand perks back up again, I have a present for you.”

  “‘What?! You can detach your head flowers at will?!’ says Misaka says Misaka, obviously shocked and stuff!!”

  “Here you are. In the language of flowers, the hibiscus means just give it a try.”

  “‘And now you’re boldly mistaking floral language,’ says Misaka says Misaka, disturbed!!”

  Last Order was going on and on, so Uiharu just smiled and nodded.

  But then she heard the vrooooom of an engine. The young woman looked, but she couldn’t tell what it was. The roar of exhaust told her it was probably a speeding sports car.

  “I wonder where they could be going. Hopefully Anti-Skill pulls them over,” she said with a sigh. Meanwhile, Last Order was frowning about something, groaning in thought.

  11

  Shiage Hamazura burst out of an alley and onto a large road.

  Heaving, he stopped and looked around.

  Boys enjoying their holiday were giving him dubious stares, but for now, he didn’t see any attackers. He wiped the sweat on his brow, then went to a nearby vending machine and bought a cold can of oolong tea. Once he drank some, he finally let himself feel relief.

  I-I’m alive. For now anyway…I wonder if the higher-up Item girls are okay? Gah. Damn it. I just want to run away from everything and go on vacation.

  But then, in an act of coldhearted cruelty, his cell phone rang. He looked at the screen, then moaned.

  It was Item’s very own Shizuri Mugino.

  “Yo,” she said. “Since you picked up, I guess you’re alive for the moment…Hopefully this isn’t a mistake, and you aren’t handcuffed with the phone pressed to your ear right now.”

  “Yeah, I’m alive…I drew the winning number, so I’m sure you’re safe.”

  “Thanks for that. It made things easy for me. Anyway, sorry, but could you come back right away? We have a lackey kind of job for you.”

  “A job?” said Hamazura, making a sour face.

  Mugino continued—without skipping a beat:

  “Got a dead person. I wanted you to deal with it.”

  12

  The convertible with Accelerator in it parked near the District 23 terminal station.

  He flung several paper bills at the young, dazed driver and exited the vehicle.

  This was District 23’s only station.

  Many lines connected here, but its freight platform was at the very end. Despite this being a terminus, the lines went farther and farther down. They connected to a switchyard for servicing trains, and if one was carrying a lot of shipping containers, it could unload them there as well.

  Accelerator, ever more conscious of his cane impediment, moved along the outside of the station building looking for the ground antenna. He was walking through a container depository, whose entrance was restricted to anyone not related to it.

  A little under ten minutes. The schedule of a big-time artist.

  He turned his attention to the electrode on his neck.

  The satellite antenna is a few clicks from here, but I won’t be able to take a regular train there.

  His battery had about thirty minutes left in it. Though he would have liked to keep consumption to a minimum, he was going to have to use it now. Looking for a car at this point would be a hassle—it seemed faster to use his vector-transforming ability.

  Accelerator’s hand went for the switch on his neck.

  “Oh my. We can’t have this, now, can we?”

  Suddenly, he heard a soft-spoken male voice behind him.

  He didn’t think anyone had been nearby.

  “!!” Accelerator whipped out the gun tucked into his belt and turned around, but nobody was there.

  His body wavered slightly on his modern-design cane.

  He tried to use the tip of the gun in his left hand to push the electrode switch at his neck.

  “I see that’s your weakness.”

  But they grabbed his hand from behind.

  “You may have an awfully strong ability, but you can’t turn it on unless you flip the switch.”

  Before Accelerator could shake the hand off, wham!!—a heavy impact shot through the side of his head. It didn’t feel like a punch from a fist. It was duller, like a metal pipe or a hammer.

  He felt goopy liquid dripping down the side of his face.

  “Arg! You…You’re with Block?!”

  “No, no. Not Block—I’m with Member.”

  The voice from behind him:

  Member.

  One of the five organizations, same as Group and School.

  Shit, one thing after another…!!

  “Although our interests don’t align with theirs, I will be stopping you from destroying the satellite’s ground antenna now.”

  As his head swam, Accelerator looked behind him, but once again there was nobody there.

  But he didn’t hesitate.

  Still looking in that direction, he swung out his leg behind him and stomped down on his attacker’s foot. The impact freed up his left hand, and without turning around, he pointed his gun behind him and fired three shots in sequence.

  “…?! Damn!!”

  After getting the sensation that he’d hit, Accelerator swiftly flipped his neck electrode’s switch from normal to ability usage mode.

  Then he whirled around.

  But once again, nobody was there.

  After a quick glance at his surroundings, he saw someone standing behind a startled railroad employee who had heard the gunshots and come over.

  The man had light wounds, grazes to his side and thigh, both bleeding. His down jacket was torn, and the down inside was stained red. He looked like he was in high school, and he was pressing a big saw against the railroad worker’s neck.

  Accelerator snorted. “A teleport esper who can only go behind other people? That’s a shitty power. Bet it’s not even Level Four. Even though, if you can teleport your own body weight, you’re normally that high.”

  The man growled.

  “What a loser. You can’t calculate eleven-dimensional values by yourself. You need to base it on other people’s locations, or else it won’t even activate. That power’s too good for you.”

  “…This coming from the one relying on an electrode. In any case, this discussion is over. The professor wants me to do this, so I will stop you here.”

  “With a hostage? That’s a shitty shield. Besides, I’m not after you anyway. I’m after the antenna.”

  “You wouldn’t abandon a hostage,” snorted his attacker, who Accelerator decided to call Kill Point. “If you would, you wouldn’t be here trying to stop Altair II in the first place. If I use another person’s life, you’ll stop, won’t you? And, well, if this isn’t enough, I can make a much bigger sea of blood for you.”

  He pressed the saw against the young worker’s neck, causing him to cry out.

  “…You lack aesthetic,” said Accelerator, slowly raising his gun. “You have none of the values of a villain.”

  “If you want to shoot me, you may want to stop. I do believe your gun has quite a margin for left-right error.”

  Now that you mention it, this thing does feel different. When Accelerator had shot at Kill Point when he was right behind him, the youth’s hand had probably messed up the aiming mechanism. He could readjust it if he wanted, but the tense situation didn’t give him any time for casual maintenance.

  With Accelerator’s skills, he could easily hit the target even if the sight was somewhat off.

  But things changed if he was using a hostage as a shield.

  You could act on intuition for some problems, but certainly not for others.

  “I see. You’re right—this situation sucks.”

  “What will you do, then?”

  “This,” he said, pointing the handgun at his own temple.

  Before Kill Point had time to think, Accelerator, without hesitation, pulled the trigger.

  Bang!!

  “Guh…ahhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhh?!”

  Kill Point keeled over backward.

  There was a dark-red hole in his shoulder. He managed to dig down and endure it, but he still fell to the ground.

  Accelerator had changed the vector of the bullet he’d shot at his head and directed it at Kill Point.

  He waggled the gun in front of him, signaling for the railroad worker to move. The worker complied, rolling aside in a fluster, and then Accelerator pointed the gun forward again.

  “Yeah, looks like the gun’s aim is off.”

  His finger rested on the trigger.

  “I can fix it by using my body to control its vector. My power is way more precise than this gun’s stupid sight.”

  “Urgh…” Kill Point, face still pointed at Accelerator, used his eyes to observe his surroundings.

  Accelerator saw that and sneered. “Go right ahead. I don’t care who you warp behind. I’ll still shoot you. Wherever you run, my next move will destroy you. So run, you pig. Hope you’re impressed enough to be terrified now.”

  “…!” Kill Point’s throat dried.

  Accelerator ignored his expression. “Now let me teach you something about aesthetics.”

  He smiled, then quietly said:

  “This is what a first-rate villain looks like, shithead.”

  Bang bang!! came the gunshots.

  Kill Point resisted somewhat, but soon, he was no longer able to move.

  13

  Shiage Hamazura was in a big, open space.

  The job waiting for him after shaking off his School pursuer was a suspicious one involving incineration.

  Nobody was using this place at the moment. The building had been abandoned. For some reason, a giant, thick metal device was placed in the middle of its incomplete floor. About as large as a shipping container, it was an electric furnace used to dispose of experimental animals. Using immense heat, almost 3,500 degrees Celsius, it sterilized and burned their corpses and all sorts of microbes at once.

  “…Wonder how it’s powered. Seems too large for a wall plug,” muttered Hamazura, looking at the big, out-of-place device.

  His job was simple.