novelBloody Pool >> Atlantic Artificial Island Proxy War (1)
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Part 1
Intense light, noise, and shockwaves.
In that moment, Battlefield Student Quenser Barbotage could not tell up from down, could not hold his memories together in a coherent fashion, and felt all his other senses melt together.
His vision blurred and he had trouble breathing like he had a thick translucent sheet over his face. He felt a scorching heat, but he could not get his thoughts working to the point of coming up with a course of action to eliminate the unpleasant sensation. Only the pounding of his heart sounded unpleasantly raw and real. That should have been the proof that he was alive, but it instead felt as unpleasant as putting back on a shirt after removing it.
Where was he?
What was he doing?
The blond boy focused his mind on remembering those two things. If he let go of that, it was all over. If his mind lost even more focus, he would never recover. He knew that without anyone telling him.
(Oh, right... I remember now. )
As usual, he had been on a shitty job with the Legitimacy Kingdom's 37th Mobile Maintenance Battalion. He had been at New Caribbean Island, a tropical island near Central America where the weather completely ignored the fact that it was October. It had all started when he set out on a philanthropic mission (but really meant to earn a diplomatic card) to rescue a Capitalist Corporations submarine that was stranded at the bottom of the ocean after having engine trouble. On that submarine, they had found an old woman wanting to defect from the Information Alliance. She had claimed to be Katarina Martini, a biochemical engineer.
By taking in the old woman who had led the Information Alliance's crucial genius girl project, they had triggered a serious military clash with the Information Alliance who did not want their technology leaking out. That had begun a fierce battle against the Nitrogen Mirage, a cutting-edge Second Generation that could bend its lasers as it pleased.
(... Kh... )
His mind was all mixed up. He felt a dull headache slowly traveling from right to left in his brain. His stomach roiled disconcertingly, like he had triggered some kind of trauma. This was an important issue. The Nitrogen Mirage was a powerful enemy. But that was not the crux of the problem. The true darkness lurked beyond that.
An Information Alliance landing team had attacked the Legitimacy Kingdom at the artificial New Caribbean Island. The Legitimacy Kingdom had struck back by directly infiltrating the Flagship 019 located at the center of the Information Alliance's maintenance fleet.
The fierce attacks that ignored the concept of clean wars had been caused by Piranirie Martini Smoky, one of the created genius girls who had gone berserk, and the giant administrative AI network that the Martini Series was meant to manage and correct.
Quenser's group had temporarily joined forces with Wraith Martini Vermouthspray, an Information Alliance officer, in order to defeat Piranirie and the Nitrogen Mirage.
But that alone had not solved the problem.
(Ugh. Ahhh... !?)
His mind roared at him to remember it.
His mind screamed at him to not remember it.
The positive and negative thoughts crashed into each other, tormenting Quenser Barbotage with the internal pressure. His soul thrashed about in search of any way out, even the smallest gap. And as a result, his mind was drawn toward it. He formed a link to the memory of the monster lurking beyond the thick veil.
He had heard a certain radio transmission while inside the half-destroyed Flagship 019.
It was coming.
The Manhattan was finally on the move.
(Ahhhhhh!? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!)
He thought his skull would break from within and the pain felt like having countless rusty spikes driven into his head. He could not tell if this was physical pain or psychological pain. Regardless, it continued to shake him and his soul was forcibly dragged toward a certain answer.
Yes.
That was right. After that utterly baffling transmission...
A blinding light had...
"How long are you going to lie there!? Wake up already!!!!!!"
He heard a sharp shout and felt incredible pressure across his entire face.
It took him a few seconds to realize a bucket of seawater had been dumped on his face while he lay on his back.
"Ubh, what, cough, cough!! Uehh!? Cough!!"
Quenser choked and somehow managed to sit up, but then the toe of a thick military boot mercilessly kicked him in the jaw.
His vision shook and he rolled back onto the hard ground. It felt a lot like hot asphalt that had been sitting in the midsummer sun, but it was not.
"Ughh... ubweh... !?"
(What? Is this... the deck of... an aircraft carrier... ?)
"Who gave you permission to speak and move? Have you forgotten that your lives are in our hands?"
He heard a low female voice from overhead.
He could not see her face well with the tropical sun behind her.
He also heard a young man's voice.
"Captain, he appears to be the last one."
"Hmph. That seems less than in the report."
"Perhaps they went down with the Flagship 019 when it lost its balance? We could send divers to the sunken ship if need be."
"That would be a waste of personnel expenses."
Quenser tried to roll onto his stomach, but a military boot kicked him and he decided not to move. He moved only his eyes to observe his surroundings.... They were there. There were maybe a few dozen soldiers wearing soaking-wet Legitimacy Kingdom uniform identical to his lying on the slanted flight deck. It was reminiscent of the corpses lined up for counting after a plane crash.
He saw dark clouds.
As if to predict Quenser and the others' futures, thick clouds covered the blue sky and had started to blot out the sun. Although those may have been caused by the extra-large attack that had assaulted them.
And once the sun faded, he could see.
The person looking down at him was a tall and beautiful girl of about 18. Her skin was white... but it had a different luster from Quenser and his group's. With that and the long black hair tied back, she was probably of Asian descent. She wore a bluish sailor uniform and a miniskirt. That clued Quenser in to the situation.
The time between the Manhattan's attack and this assault force abducting Quenser's group had been too short.
"... So you're from the Flagship 019... no, from the maintenance fleet. Hah. Were you promoted because your boss Piranirie kicked the bucket?"
The girl's subordinate gave him another kick.
She must not have felt any real hatred toward him. The Asian beauty looked down at him like he was a bug crawling along the roadside.
"We will decide what will be done with all of you. As I said, your lives are in our hands." She then glanced to the side."But we have a more important issue to take care of. Hello, comrade! Lieutenant Colonel Wraith Martini Vermouthspray!! My fellow Martini!!"
Quenser tensed up at that.
Yes. Wraith's cooperation with the Legitimacy Kingdom had been a personal decision. Since the Martini Series which supported the Capulet AI Network was acting oddly, Wraith's decision may have been correct. But this and that were two very different things.
"Hello, Taratua."
"Hello, Wraith."
Wraith Martini Vermouthspray was a blonde girl of about 12. She wore a formal black hat over her long blonde hair and a pitch black uniform that was poorly suited for the tropical sun.
She had no allies in the Legitimacy Kingdom or the Information Alliance.
A young man of unknown age stood beside her, but that alone was not much to rely on.
The Asian beauty named Taratua may have meant no real harm. The way the corners of her lips curled into a smile looked childish for her age.
Yes. Almost like the look of a child tearing off a captured insect's legs one by one.
"I was placed in the maintenance fleet as Piranirie's spare, but what kind of mission was a fellow Martini given that required working with enemy soldiers? I certainly haven't heard of anything like that, so was it a highly-classified special mission?"
"..."
"Yes. Silence is the best answer here. Even if you try to lie about it and invent some fake mission, you never know when you'll blow it."
Their ranks were captain and lieutenant colonel, but Taratua did not hold back. If it could be proven that Wraith had been colluding with the Legitimacy Kingdom and had arrived here in violation of her actual mission, she would be no more than a traitor or deserter. Then no one could complain if she was shot in the back here and now.
"I'll give you a chance."
Taratua drew an impractically large revolver from her hip. It must have absorbed the dark color of the thick clouds overhead because the polished black weapon looked sinister. Wraith held out a hand to stop the young man who tried to move in front of her.
She winked her right eye and asked a question.
"You want to test my luck? That is impressively unscientific."
"Ha ha! Oh, we're not playing Russian roulette. Ignoring someone's actual actions and only seeing if god loves them is more of a Faith Organization thing. You're almost certainly guilty, but I know just how valuable the contents of your mind are. So, comrade, it isn't your head you'll be blowing away."
Taratua spun the entire revolver around like a cheap pen and then held the grip out toward Wraith.
"The Second Generation Laser Beam 069, Piranirie, the recently sunk Flagship 019... and now an attack from that Manhattan 000. Our maintenance fleet is in tatters and our higher ups have probably been wiped out. We can't let this continue. And if we're going to recover, we need as many soldiers as we can get. And that includes you, my comrade and my fellow Martini."
And.
She said it as casually as could be.
"Shoot that boy there. I'll judge your true intentions based on that."
...................................................................................................................................................................................................
The atmosphere solidified.
Still on his back, Quenser checked on the situation by turning his head so stiffly the joint seemed rusted.
His eyes met Taratua's.
He could not read Wraith's emotions at all.
Before breathing her last, Piranirie Martini Smoky had said there was something breaking and driving the entire Martini Series mad. And it was controlled by someone outside the Information Alliance rather than Katarina, the old woman in charge of the genius girl project.
Was this also a product of that artificial madness?
Or was this normal for the Asian beauty known as Taratua?
"As I said, this isn't Russian roulette, so none of the bullets have been removed."
He understood.
What would Wraith Martini Vermouthspray do in this situation? Wasn't there anything else she could do? Quenser understood. If she obeyed, one would die. If she did not, they would all die. It was simple arithmetic. Even if the Legitimacy Kingdom and Information Alliance had been temporarily working together because their interests aligned, they were still enemies.
There was no reason for her not to do it.
Once you had 1 + 1 = 2, no amount of searching would turn up another answer.
"We went to an effort to rescue these lives, so we will have these idiots work for us to make up for it. And they will keep working until they wear out and die."
But.
Could it be... ?
"But things are different for this one: Quenser Barbotage. This irregular actor ignores the rules of cost-effectiveness by running around destroying Objects. We will kill him here. It functions as camouflage and gives us a prize for the higher ups."
"Wait!!"
That was when a soldier lying a short distance away raised his voice and was kicked in the jaw by one of the sailors walking between the Legitimacy Kingdom soldiers who were lined up like corpses. A dark red liquid splattered from his split lip, but he kept shouting with the eyes of a chained dog.
"He isn't a soldier! He's a battlefield student!! If you know who he is, you must know that. Be careful how you handle him or it's you who'll be in trouble later!!"
It was Heivia Winchell.
But it was no use. All he could do was yell from the aircraft carrier deck.
Taratua paid him no heed.
"You are more like disposable parts than prisoners of war. The fact that any of you survived will be erased from any and all reports, so what does it matter how one or two of you is treated now?"
She sounded somewhat exasperated, but there were several endlessly ominous phrases mixed in.
And it was time to decide.
Wraith Martini Vermouthspray grabbed the proffered magnum's grip with a troubled look.
Taratua reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a device much like the collapsible opera glasses sold at concert halls. She casually unfolded it and winked.
"Say cheese. The time it takes to decide, your breathing, your perspiration, your eye movements, the trembling of your fingertips. I'm measuring them all like a true Information Alliance soldier, so don't do anything suspicious."
"..."
The Asian beauty gestured with her chin and her subordinate soldiers grabbed Quenser's arms and lifted him up. They were near the railingless edge of the slanted flight deck, so there was no escape.
A small girl stood directly in front of him.
The unsuitably large handgun's muzzle was pointed toward the boy's face.
(... Think. )
Sweat poured from his body.
He even had trouble blinking for the first time in his life.
Death.
True death was approaching.
(What is the Manhattan doing? If Taratua's group is just the survivors of the maintenance fleet, are they really working as a solid group? Has anything been done to that handgun? What does Wraith think? Is there something I could use as a bomb or another weapon? What's security like? This flight deck is unstable and tilted. The others are lying on the deck.... What happened to the Princess's Baby Magnum? There has to be something! There has to be at least one thing I can use!!!!!)
"I'm sorry, Quenser. It looks like you're still working your mind and foolishly haven't given up hope."
A voice seemed to slice right through the boy's thoughts.
Wraith's blue eye stared quietly at him through the sight.
"But this time, there really is... nothing."
The dry gunshot...
... sounded far too light.
Part 2
"The world's... gest Obje... New Yo... Manhattan... tself was... mation Alliance's Object!?"
"An offici... statement was... with a video. The Manhat... intends... join this war!!"
"Not good... ood!! Everyone, brace for impact! The enemy... an electromagnetically... ched reactor cannon. It's a demonic weapon that... the heat usually contai... the reactor which uses lasers... pellet fuel!! Our New Caribb... blown away!?"
"Curse the Marti... ries. How insane... they!?"
It was pandemonium.
The busty silver-haired high-ranking officer named Frolaytia Capistrano's vision had been entirely flipped upside down and she initially could not remember where she was.
Light flashed before her eyes like she had been slapped the instant she ran across someone. The core of her mind was unsteady and she spent a while in an unthinking daze.
Slowly, like thin ice being melted by a blow dryer, her mind managed to focus on the cruel reality.
"Uh, kh... ?"
She first realized she was collapsed face down.
She had been in the 37th Mobile Maintenance Battalion's officer's barracks using her laptop to receive a report from a subordinate in their distant home country. But the scene around her had entirely changed. The ceiling was too low. No, the entire barracks building had been crushed down. The space was too cramped and the other things in the room were so close she could barely see. She did not have time to check on her Island Nation collection. Her military-issued items and personal possessions were scattered around her. Among those, she grabbed a laptop with a broken LCD screen and a keyring of hardware keys. Then she crawled through the cramped space.
Luckily, she was not trapped by an ankle caught in the rubble or anything else like that.
Did she have to crawl a few meters or a few dozen meters? Her sense of time and distance were far too vague as she bit her lip and made her way outside. She could see the outside light ahead of her, but the end never seemed to arrive. She had no guarantee this was the right way to go. The collapsed ceiling approached ever closer overhead the further she crawled, so she might find her hips trapped before she reached the exit.
That self-produced doubt gnawed at her mind as she dug at the ground with neatly clipped and filed nails to slowly but surely make her way forward.
(Finally... )
The light was approaching.
She had somehow managed to escape the pile of rubble under her own power.
(... Finally. )
And as soon as she did, a hellish scene spread out before her eyes.
As a reminder, Frolaytia Capistrano was on New Caribbean Island located in the Atlantic Ocean near Central America. It was a special island made by the lava of an artificial eruption caused by stimulating a submarine volcano with explosives. The island was a collection of small black rocks that looked like crunchy chocolate and it had originally been made as a bluefin tuna breeding base for her brother Bloodrics Capistrano. Frolaytia had stationed her Object maintenance battalion there and had been in the middle of a battle with an Information Alliance maintenance fleet and its Second Generation Object, the Nitrogen Mirage.
Those assumptions had been blown away.
First of all, the color was wrong.
The dark stone ground was glowing like an electrically-heated wire or a reactor. The cooled and solidified lava had been melted anew by an outside heat source. Like two scoops of ice cream dropped on the midsummer asphalt, the melted surface formed orange rivers that flowed toward the sea and then formed rising walls of billowing steam. Thanks to the immense light, heat, and steam, the bright sun overhead appeared to waver and dim. It may have been the same as the lights of a metropolis erasing the stars from the night sky.
"..."
It took Frolaytia a while to accept her situation here.
(This was done by the Manhattan's main cannon. And it fired from a few thousand kilometers away... )
But she had to face reality.
There were around 1000 people in the maintenance battalion and half of them had gone to the front line based on the military operation Frolaytia had planned. So how many of the approximately 500 logistical support and standby personnel remained in this hell containing several orange rivers? That was about two schools' worth of people. She had no idea how many more were lost with each passing second. She did not have time to stop just because she found it hard to accept.
"Report..."
Frolaytia raised her voice so it would not be drowned out by the explosive steam rising from the coast.
"Someone give me a report!! We need to know the scope of the damage, we need a relatively undamaged area we can evacuate to, and we need a set of surviving equipment and facilities! Simply saving the lives in front of you will only waste valuable resources. Then we can't even save the lives you think you've saved. We need to avoid redundancies and carry out a rescue operation with maximum efficiency!!"
There was no response.
Not even the very basics were functioning.
"Hi, Tia-chan..."
"..."
The busty silver-haired commander's shoulders jumped when someone spoke gently from behind her.
She just about let out her face as a family member, but she just barely managed to suppress it before turning around. She greeted the young man as the commander of the maintenance battalion.
It was Bloodrics Capistrano.
He had worn a black tailcoat even on this tropical island, but he had removed that, leaving him with just a white shirt. Had he used the coat to treat a wounded soldier, or had he discarded it before it melted in the heat?
He held a drawn katana in one hand.
There was no scabbard. For some reason, the blade was wet with a red liquid. It was unclear what had happened on the way here, but that was a clear sign of just how chaotic the situation was.
The sweat on his brow may have gotten in his eye or he may have had some other reason, but Bloodrics kept one eye unnaturally shut as he forced a smile on his blatantly exhausted face.
"Shouting won't do you any good. The previous war is over. This has gone beyond Piranirie Martini Smoky or the Nitrogen Mirage. The conditions have changed."
"What are you talking about? That isn't for me to decide! It's true the damage is severe, but we can't just quit fighting a war like flipping a switch!! No matter the devastation before our eyes, we can still gather the surviving personnel and equipment for a counterattack. I'll admit it's like whipping the dead, but if we give up and stop resisting, everyone under my command will simply sink into the lava!!"
Frolaytia was not illogically relying on pure willpower.
She had more to say.
"Calm down, think, and never give up on being human! Why did the Information Alliance suddenly pull out their greatest secret weapon like this? It was at the center of their home country, so they shouldn't have had any reason to send it to the front line. I don't know the details of the issues with the Martini Series who monitor the AI network which may not even have a core, but if they have the full authority of a world power, they had to have had a better way of doing this."
"..."
"We do not know how far the problems have spread within the Martini Series. If it's limited to the ones in charge of protecting New York, it makes sense that only the Manhattan was sent out. But this is a fluid situation. If the other Martinis also begin acting oddly, the problems could spread uncontrollably throughout the Information Alliance!"
"Tia-chan, you are overwhelmingly correct here."
Her brother slowly breathed out.
Bloodrics was supposedly a civilian, but he spoke to his sister like he was calmly explaining something while she threw a tantrum.
"But there is no one to answer your call."
"!?"
"By a general estimate, 60-70% of those remaining on the island were lost. And losing 30% is normally considered a rout, is it not? You can no longer maintain ordinary military activity here. Tia-chan, your job here is to remove or destroy all classified information so the Information Alliance cannot steal it. And that includes yourself as the major in command of the entire battalion."
"..."
"You must not be captured. No matter what. Do you really think the Manhattan is finished with only that one shot? Whether it fires a second and third shot or they send a large landing unit to the devastated remnants of the battalion, you have a single job here, Tia-chan:... Escape. It does not matter how pathetic or cowardly you feel. Tia-chan, you carry a responsibility here, so you must get yourself away from here. Even if you are the only one that escapes."
She intellectually understood that.
If she was captured, the enemy could steal the biometric information like her center of gravity or iris scan that allowed access to the military datalink. Or they could get her to talk about future operations no one was supposed to know about or the names of spies who had infiltrated enemy countries. Then the damage would spread beyond just this war. To minimize the losses, she had to make sure it was limited to just this war.
The busty silver-haired commander slowly breathed out.
After throwing the laptop and hardware keys into the lava, she drew her military handgun from its holster.
"... I will withdraw only after saving as many lives as I can. As their commander, I will be rear guard."
"Tia-chan."
"Yes, yes!! I know it's inefficient!!"
Frolaytia shouted back at him and pressed the military handgun's muzzle against her own temple.
Brother and sister glared at each other and she gathered strength in her brow to keep her face as a girl from coming out.
"But there are still so many allies buried alive in this rubble and lava, unable to even groan! Not to mention the soldiers fighting the Information Alliance at the maintenance fleet out at sea!! They're out there because I ordered them there! I can't use insufficient data as an excuse. I can't abandon them and run away. They would die pointless deaths if I did!!"
"..."
"Destroying all classified information was the bare minimum requirement, wasn't it? That won't be a problem. Officers aren't issued guns to shoot the enemy. It's to blow their own brains out if need be!!"
Still holding his drawn katana, Bloodrics shook his head with a sorrowful look on his face.
He must have understood his sister's feelings all too well.
She did not let her status as a noble bind her. When necessary, she had risked her life and used her own strength to protect her soldiers. That was a joyous thing for Bloodrics. If his sister had something she wanted to protect, he wanted to fight alongside her as her brother. He truly did.
Finally, he took a deep breath of resignation.
And the brother spoke to his sister.
"I'm sorry, Tia-chan. But I can't let you do that."
Did Frolaytia even know what caused the quiet sound on her head?
"Bh... ?"
The pommel of the katana held by the silver-haired young man had dug into the side of her head. Just like knocking someone out with a pistol grip. Before she could even move her finger to pull the trigger, the girl's eyes grew unfocused and her body went limp.
Before she fully collapsed, Bloodrics wrapped an arm around her waist which, as her brother, he felt was too skinny. If he was not careful, the finger on the trigger could accidentally fire the bullet.
"Striking my own sister... I am truly a disgrace to the concept of chivalry."
He sounded utterly disgusted, but he was extremely dry when it came to this. Those military reasons meant nothing to him since he was a civilian, albeit a noble one. His first and foremost objective was to protect his precious sister no matter what it took.
On his way here, he had heard many voices begging him to kill them.
Some had had lava dumped on their head and others were caught in the rubble. Bloodrics had turned the tip of his katana on those soldiers who had no hope left.
He would not forget their words of thanks.
How could he ever forget?
"... I'm sick of it all."
Frolaytia had built up this world of hers bit by bit as she resisted the noble society, so he could not allow her to see it tragically fall apart.
She could resent him if she liked.
She could hate his guts if she had to.
Bloodrics tossed aside his bloodstained katana and placed a finger to his ear. He was about to send out a transmission.
"It's me."
As soon as he focused on the small earpiece, the young man took on the face of a noble.
"Yes, I would like an emergency exit. Use that submarine. I would like to pick up as many Legitimacy Kingdom soldiers as possible, but there is no need to force it. We leave in 15 minutes. Give up on any we cannot pick up. Don't worry. None of you need play the villain's role. That I will do alone."
Still supporting his unconscious family member's weight, Bloodrics looked through the lava's heat and steam to view the distant horizon.
According to Frolaytia, she had sent some of her soldiers out to sea.
It had been necessary. Even if it had required ignoring her personal feelings.
But if the maintenance battalion withdrew from New Caribbean Island, they would have nowhere to return to. Once isolated out at sea, no one would come to save them no matter how much they screamed.
Bloodrics Capistrano was doing that to them.
He was prepared to dirty his hands with the things that someone had to do.
"... Such a disaster. For us and them."
Part 3
And no one came.
The Legitimacy Kingdom military was supposedly stationed at New Caribbean Island. The Princess's Baby Magnum was supposedly out in the wide ocean.
And yet.
No one.
"... I'll kill you..."
A voice burning with resentment echoed across the rusty flight deck.
It belonged to Heivia Winchell who could not even shed any tears.
He moved his trembling body as best he could to crawl to the edge of the flight deck, but there was already no sign of his friend's corpse.
Only a strange dark red liquid stained the water's surface as a large shadow slowly swam below.
"Ha ha. Don't do that, Wraith!"
Taratua held her stomach as she laughed.
There were tears in the corners of her eyes.
"You can feed his corpse to the sharks if you like. Peh heh heh. But we'll never hear the end of it if you feed them the metals and plastics along with it. Ah hah hah hah!!"
With that, something really did snap inside Heivia's mind. He crossed a line.
"I'll kill you!! I'll murder you!! I don't care anymore if you're insane or broken or whatever the hell. I'll turn every last one of you to mincemeat in a hail of bullets!!!!!"
In the end, where was that threat directed?
No one knows.
Part 4
"Attention, 101st Zombie Platoon!!"
They were out in the open.
There were not even any chairs or tables.
Heivia and the other defeated survivors of the Legitimacy Kingdom were gathered on the flight deck of the aircraft carrier which was tilted too far to be of any use. Rain was pouring down from the thick storm clouds, but there was no roof or anything else to protect them. There were not even any railings, so if they got careless and slipped on the wet flight deck, they could roll right off into the ocean where the hungry sharks waited.
The only person with a smile on her face was Taratua Martini On-the-Rocks, but she stood below a large umbrella held by a male subordinate.
"That impressive attack from my piece of shit comrade on the Manhattan 000 has whipped up quite the storm. That gives us an opportunity for the dead to do some work."
"... Are you unfamiliar with the concept of war treaties? This is no way to treat POWs."
"What, do you want to be thrown inside a zoo cage like the amusing animal you are?"
She was blunt.
Whether it had been injected from an external source like with Piranirie or if she had always been like that, the thoroughly-broken Asian beauty did not bat an eye.
"You cowards boarded our maintenance fleet's flagship and then shared the fate of the Flagship 019 after a variety of attacks finally sunk it. Thus, there were zero survivors. Your survival has been scrubbed from any and all records, so worry not and go have some fun."
"..."
Heivia gave her a murderous glare, so she winked.
"Do you understand your position now? The dead do not belong to any of the usual categories, so we can ignore all those pesky treaties and military regulations. Plus, any number of you can die without it counting in the official records. Ignore the people in their living rooms. You can fight as you like and die as you like! I'm honestly jealous! That's the paradise dreamed of by any soldier!!"
In other words...
The Legitimacy Kingdom soldiers were being forced to wrap their arms around the pile of shit that the Information Alliance did not want to grab with their bare hands. Their target of attack could be a region of hopelessly fierce fighting, or a symbol of peace that was bound to earn international criticism. They did not want to imagine the other possibilities.
It was time for a true death march where they were lined up in a row and forced at gunpoint to walk through a minefield. Each step would be terrifying, but standing still would get them shot. Yes, the death march was more than just this one battle. They would never be released. Heivia and the others were disposable tools. This situation would continue endlessly until they were worn out and died.
"... What are you telling us to do?"
"It's all about balance." Taratua toyed with the end of her black hair that was damp despite the umbrella."I'm sure you saw a lot on the Flagship 019. The Capulet AI Network that supports the Information Alliance, one of the four world powers, is correct but too pure. After all, after the New Yorker's used various countermeasures to avoid security cameras and email spying, it was rendered unable to see New York itself. If the entire Martini Series in charge of maintenance returns a strange echo, it could create a similar flaw in Capulet.... But that is not the problem."
"?"
Taratua was supposedly a part of that Martini Series, but she did not seem worried about herself.
"As its name suggests, the Information Alliance rules everything with data. Nevertheless, we were not told anything about the risk to Capulet or about the Manhattan 000."
"You're pissed at being left out, so you want to take revenge by having us blow up New York?"
"Are you braindead? This is an opportunity, " whispered the black-haired beauty below the umbrella."The Manhattan 000 is currently traveling south at around 388 knots. The distance from New York in the Information Alliance home country and the ocean near New Caribbean Island is about 3500 kilometers, so it should arrive within 4 or 5 hours. It's still a mystery why they would send their king to the front line like this, but there is one thing we know for sure: we were blessed with a chance to gather raw data."
388 knots was 700 kilometers per hour, so it was not much different from a passenger plane. What had happened to the city of Manhattan and the people in it?
The usual technical nerd was not here.
With nowhere to direct his question, Heivia just spat it out.
"700... ? How?"
"At the very least, it must not be using an aircushion or static electricity floats. The colossal structure itself is parting the water. It's probably using supercavitation or something to reduce the water's resistance with small air bubbles, but the exact system is still unknown. This is all information we must find."
That gigantic a presence was staring them down from the darkness. Wasn't that enough to sound instinctual alarm bells within any living creature?
And yet this girl had called it an opportunity.
"... Are you the kind of person who goes out to see the hurricane and gets blown away into the sky?"
"I will shoot you next time. What matters here is who can monopolize the most raw data available at the scene. As I said, the Information Alliance rules everything with data. The Manhattan 000 started moving and can apparently move under its own power whenever it wants. After we gather what data we can on it, we are not foolish enough to send all of it back to our higher ups, which includes the core-less Capulet AI Network.... I mean, it already fired on all of you to cover its tracks."
"Don't drag us into your internal conflict."
"Don't be silly. Then I would have to take responsibility here."
Even the simplest rules did not apply.
This was completely different from not having your words get through to someone. It was like emphatically speaking and even gesturing for emphasis only to see all that effort outright rejected. There was simply no opening in this girl. She was as inhuman as a giant praying mantis wearing human skin.
Was she an alien? Was she from the Shit Planet?
"They went to a lot of effort to hide this for so long. There must be some great secret to the Manhattan 000. And that would be very, very valuable information."
Taratua giggled after glancing at the notebook-sized tablet she took from the subordinate holding the umbrella.
Was it showing a video site or online news? Or maybe the myriad posts on message boards and social media?
There was a lot of information related to Manhattan, but it was meaningless if none of it was accurate. When faced with a situation like this, it was the lowest of the low who could only think about shouting strange apocalyptic theories or fabricating a witness account to gather views for their videos.
"After taking this much blame, I'm not going to obediently stand aside and stay a lowly Captain. I will provide myself with a path to special promotion. I'm sure all four world powers, both our enemies and the Information Alliance itself, are rushing to gather information. That's perfect. Those onlookers will trip each other up and fail to gather anything of note. Meanwhile, we will move a step or two ahead. I will hold the valuable information on the Manhattan 000 and I will decide how to use it. Perhaps I will use AI and big data to join the upper class and enjoy a high society life of wealth. Or maybe I will threaten those people and use them as a stepping stone to an even more comfortable and leisurely life."
"So it's all about money? You sound just like the goddamn Capitalist Corporations."
"Are you musty old nobles too stupid to tell the difference? The order is reversed. An information illiterate fool and their money are soon parted. When the poor hit the jackpot at the lottery, the story always has a tragic end. The truly powerful are those who first gather information. Whether or not they reveal their educational history, their occupation, the size of their bank account, and so on is all part of someone's status."
Heivia shook his head like he was hungover.
He may have given up on trying to understand the thought process of this thinly-smiling resident of Shit Planet.
"And the problem there is balance."
But how did Taratua view these disposable Legitimacy Kingdom soldiers?
She looked down on the rain-soaked group from her position of safety.
"Hopefully, the four world powers will begin a mutual game of whack-a-mole that keeps any of them from popping up. The danger is if one of them manages to stay up. I want to restrict their data acquisition speed. That way we alone can grasp these secrets and use them as exclusive bargaining chips against the higher, higher, higher ups. So if any of those moles pops up, we need to whack them back down. Even if our target is from the Information Alliance, we still must thoroughly destroy them. Even more so for outsiders."
This was sounding ominous.
Heivia, Myonri, and the rest tensed up as Taratua spun the notebook-sized tablet around so they could see the screen.
And it showed...
"A symbol of peace: the Olympia Dome☆"
"Bff... !?"
She was broken.
She was completely insane.
"That artificial floating island travels slowly around the Atlantic and hosts the Technopics global sports festival. It officially claims to be fully neutral and not affiliated with any world power, but it is actually heavily dyed in the colors of the Faith Organization. And since it needs to broadcast an international event, it is equipped with largescale broadcast equipment. That makes it a gigantic EM spy device wandering across the Atlantic. It doesn't really matter whether or not it was originally built for that purpose. It has ended up that way. It is in our way. You need to whack down that mole so it doesn't discover the Manhattan 000's secrets before we do. Blow it up and sink it."
"... That's against the rules. You want us to sink the site of the Technopics with military might? That would turn into an international incident requiring centuries of reparations!!"
"That isn't part of the calculation. Even if you're right, I won't be the one paying them. Why do you think I've kept you dangerous Legitimacy Kingdom soldiers alive this long? Now get to work, my dead soldiers☆"
She made it sound so simple.
If this was an operation that could be pulled off with the normal methods, she would not have put together this unstable enemy unit of zombie soldiers. She was not expecting Heivia and the others to fight valiantly. They were being used as jokers to whom the rules did not apply specifically because she did not care when they were destroyed either legally or physically.
Taratua Martini On-the-Rocks smiled thinly.
"Luckily, all of our maintenance fleet's ships were at least half-destroyed by the Manhattan 000's attack. No one will suspect a thing if a few of them lose control and start to drift. You assisted a stranded Capitalist Corporations' submarine for no reward, didn't you? This will be the same. The rules of the sea are kind. So we'll use that to our advantage by getting the Olympia Dome to assist you so you can crush them from within."
Heivia tried to continue arguing, but Taratua gently raised a hand.
The sailors surrounding them lazily aimed shotguns at the curled-up Legitimacy Kingdom dumplings. Heivia might or might not be killed when the first trigger was pulled, but once it began, the number of survivors would be quickly reduced.
Refusal was not an option.
If they disobeyed, they would receive a bullet to the head. If they obeyed, they would be used as disposable elements of ridiculous missions. Even if they managed to win and survive, they would not be freed; they would simply be sent out on the next mission. The death march would continue until every last one of them was dead.
The Asian beauty gently lowered her hand and grinned.
"Do you understand the rules now? Then begin."
"... Wait."
A low voice spoke.
It was Heivia as the pouring rain continued to hit him.
"You're the only one that gains anything from that. It's not worth our while. We're risking our life on a deadly attack with guns aimed at our backs. There has to be something in it for us."
"Using data to achieve a fortune only applies to those in the Information Alliance. Or are you saying you will defect to our side to share in the profits here?"
"Not what I meant, " spat out Heivia."I'm not interested in your dirty money."
And he said it.
"Wraith Martini Vermouthspray. Once this is all over, hand that bitch over to us. Those are our terms."
The tall girl silently tilted her head.
She rubbed at her shiny black hair as she finally answered.
"What do I gain by accepting that? Depending on your answer, I might just return you to your grave."
"You're both from the Martini Series, aren't you? Keep her with you and your share is divided in half."
"Then you can kill her if you want."
She said it so easily.
Taratua Martini On-the-Rocks may have had no concept of camaraderie.
No.
Dorothea, Piranirie, and Wraith.
Even that small blonde girl had lost the guarantee of the safety myth. So was it safe to conclude it was a general trait of the Martini Series as a whole? The one question was whether that was a mistake at the design phase or if it was the result of an outside force taking advantage of a vulnerability.
The tall Asian beauty concluded the briefing with a carefree look.
"So we have a deal☆ Now, 101st Zombie Platoon, this is your first mission, so it is a cause for celebration. It's time for a true bloodbath mission!"
Part 5
The Frigate 042 was tossed about by the nearly-black gray of the stormy sea. It was about 100 meters long. It would have originally been neatly painted the mix of light gray and blue associated with warships, but large parts had been scorched black and the surface had bubbled up like someone had held a match to the back of a photograph. The rapid-firing guns were bent, the vertical-launch missile tubes lined up like a honeycomb were melted shut, and most of the various antennae had been blown off of the bridge. The entire ship was tilted at an angle, so it was clearly in no state for cruising. If an empty-headed youth came across it in a cruiser, they might snap a photo with their smartphone and create a new ghost ship legend.
Its tragic state was a testament to the power of the Manhattan 000's ultra-wide-range attacks.
"... This is the worst, goddammit."
Inside the ship, Heivia Winchell spat out his words while sitting with his back to the wall and an assault rifle in his arms. He and the other Legitimacy Kingdom soldiers were inside the mess hall that was one of the larger intact areas.
"I'm a noble heir, but those bastards rewrote the records to report me as dead. Those old men with giant beards, fat asses, or both have got to be fighting over the right of succession back in the home country. And who knows what's happened to the relationship between the Winchell and Vanderbilt families..."
"Ch-cheer up, Heivia. We just have to wait for an opportunity."
"You sure are hopeful, Myonri. Do you really think there will be one? With those pieces of shit watching our every move!?"
The zombie-like soldiers slowly turned their attention in the direction Heivia pointed.
There, a single pair of non-matching uniforms stood out from the rest.
It was the Information Alliance officer Wraith Martini Vermouthspray.
And the young man who acted as her aide.
"I doubt you'll trust anything I say at this point.... But it's even harder for me to trust myself. Just like with the Capulet AI Network, the Martini Series can't make judgments about itself."
"..."
"By spreading its influence thinly out across all of the Information Alliance's territory of influence, Capulet lost any symbol of a 'core'. Piranirie said she had succumbed to the AI's correctness, but it is hard to say she had no confidence in her actions. I don't know what it is that is destroying us, but it may be using our active self-denial."
"Active... self-denial?"
Myonri looked confused and Wraith nodded.
"Like giving up on climbing a mountain because of a blizzard. Or making a courageous withdrawal.... It depends on the person's willpower, but people have a strange mindset where the stronger their desire, the further they move from their initial objective. That is why Piranirie charged full speed toward her own destruction."
The blonde girl sighed in the heavy atmosphere.
"Our original, Cassandra Martini, was apparently a rational killer. She must have chosen to give up on so much in the course of that life. If Katarina were here, she might have been able to corroborate that."
She was acting differently from her previous chatting.
There may have been an absolute difference between Wraith and Heivia's group.
Of course, Heivia's group was in charge of hesitantly walking onto the minefield while Wraith's group was in charge of firing into their backs the instant they took issue with Heivia's group's speed or anything else.
"(I can't believe Taratua. She's actually sending our reward out into battle with us. Does she see it like shaking a carrot on a stick in front of the dumb horse?)"
"What's this? You're acting awfully suspicious here. Did you ask for my head as a reward for this mission?"
"Tch."
Heivia hatefully clicked his tongue.
It did not matter if she found out here. The secret deal was with Taratua. Even if that girl was broken on a fundamental level, she could still do the math. In other words, she was a high-IQ serial killer. Her "emotions" could not be overturned even if Wraith went crying to her now. It did not matter that they were comrades.
Meanwhile, Wraith sighed.
"You're apparently clinging to hope to an ugly extent, but that's fine with me. You can think about what comes afterwards if you like, but don't lose sight of the immediate hurdle. Taratua has very good reason to be cautious of Olympia Dome. First, if the Manhattan 000 is headed for us, there is a good chance that wandering artificial floating island will pass very close by. Second, the Faith Organization is sending soldiers and equipment to that symbol of peace. Primarily STOL transport planes and tiltrotors. This isn't over once we get inside with this Trojan horse. Learn how to use the Information Alliance equipment we have lent you. You need to act like you stole it from this half-destroyed ship. Also..."
"Shut up. That's enough."
Heivia rudely cut her off.
His tone with her was clearly different from just a few hours before.
"How long are you going to act like we're on the same side? There's a really obvious line in the sand now. And you drew it your damn self. You sicken me. Don't think you can just move from one side to the other whenever you damn well please. It pisses me off even though I know it's coming from a completely broken lunatic."
"... Do you think growing emotional is a virtue? I'll admit it's pure to a fault, but do you actually plan on surviving this?"
"How the hell can you say that after taking his life with your own hands!? Do you really think you're the hero? Have you gone as nuts as Joan of Arc? Say it yourself: who do you think it was that shot Quenser to save her own hide!?"
The girl's shoulders shook at the blatant verbal abuse.
Her already-small body shrank down all the more, but her eyes opened unbelievably wide.
Her lips trembled as she tried to say something. They opened and closed, but nothing ever came out.
"Say it, crazy girl."
There was now a definite focus to Heivia's previously gloomy eyes.
There may have been nothing rational there. There was someone here he had reason to criticize, so he may have simply been using that as an outlet.
His back left the wall, he slowly stood up, and a bright light glinted in his eyes as he roared at her.
"Sure, you probably did the right thing!! You probably used that clever head of yours to work out the optimal solution and that told you to shoot Quenser!! So how about you hold your head high? After killing so many people, did you think you could become the tragic heroine who gets tears in her eyes and laments how hard it was for her!? That wouldn't make him happy. That wouldn't make Quenser happy. Did you really think anyone would accept that, you piece of shit!?"
"..."
"Do you remember what happened when that damn Manhattan fired on us?"
Wraith remained motionless, so Heivia kept up the verbal assault.
He seemed to be saying he would not forgive her even if her heart lay in tatters.
"He protected you. That skinny bastard threw himself over you to protect your tiny body from whatever was going to happen. It's true that was right after everything with Piranirie, so he'd just experienced a kid dying.... But the fact remains that he protected you. Do you know what that means? That softhearted idiot didn't want you to die and he thought he could trust you to have his back! And then you-... !!!!!"
There was a small movement.
It may have been similar to a small child trying to cover their head as an unreasonable adult shouted angrily down at them.
But in Wraith's case, her small hand hovered near the holster on her hip.
The blonde girl winced as if that fact pained her, but Heivia gave a broken, asymmetrical grin.
"... That's who you really are. A crazed killer. And I'm not talking about that active self-denial or some strange mindset. I'm talking about the very nature of your soul. You can claim to support equality or pacifism all you like, but the first hint of a threat and this happens. If you aren't on top, you can't relax or even look the other person in the eye. There was no other choice? You're just a child, so you aren't responsible? Then you shouldn't have stretched up on your tiptoes to set foot on the battlefield. None of this would've happened if you hadn't participated in that genius girl project."
He had started on what-ifs that had no bearing on reality.
But Heivia did not care since he was only interested in finding fault.
So he did not hold back.
"You should've stayed back in your safe country hiding behind your mommy's skirt."
This was even more than before.
Everyone watching could tell the girl's pale face grew another shade closer to pure white. It was easy to imagine how tightly her heart was squeezing inside her juvenile body.
Heivia had to have heard Quenser and Wraith's conversation on the Flagship 019.
He would have heard about the DNA computer spread out across the Information Alliance, he would have heard about the Anastasia Processor at its core, and he would have heard whose cancer cells were used to create it.
He would have heard about that impossible what-if where the girl would never have had to take the Martini name and would have been protected by a normal, warm family if not for her mother's sickness.
But he still said it.
He did not care. He only saw her as an enemy.
A military boot could be heard scraping against the floor.
The young man ever-present by Wraith's side had taken a step forward while tightly clenching his teeth.
"Get back to jerking off in front of the position-detection camera with some VR goggles on, you Information Alliance pervert. Did you think you could become her knight now that Quenser's dead?"
Heivia did not back down.
In fact, he immediately stepped forward so they were less than a meter apart.
"What a gentleman you are for bothering to stand up over nothing more than an exchange of words. Well? Am I supposed to fight to the death without a single complaint even after being given legit bullets? Is that how you think a gentleman should act? Go fuck yourself!!!!!"
Next, there were several dull sounds of impacts that crushed flesh and struck the bone.
First, the young man's iron fist hit Heivia's cheekbone. Heivia retaliated by grabbing at him. The rest was too chaotic to describe. The two of them knocked over the mess hall's tables and chairs as they rolled along the floor to get on top of the other. All the while, dull and potentially deadly sounds rang out and dark red drops of blood scattered around.
"... Stop."
Wraith Martini Vermouthspray moved her trembling lips to force out the word.
Neither Heivia nor the young man was listening.
The Legitimacy Kingdom boy grabbed a glass ashtray from the floor and the Information Alliance mechanical man reached for the pin of a grenade hanging form the delinquent soldier's jacket. Seeing that, Wraith finally made up her mind.
"Stop this!!"
She had drawn it.
She drew her handgun from the holster.
The atmosphere froze. A decisive chasm had opened between the Legitimacy Kingdom and Information Alliance. If that grenade had detonated, those two and all those gathered in the enclosed mess hall would have been killed. But no one was focused on that.
Everyone there – and that probably included Wraith herself – had pictured something else entirely.
They vividly saw that scene of someone shooting someone else on the tilted flight deck.
"... Do whatever you want." Heivia recklessly threw his hands up while the young man leaned down on him."You have two options here. One: if the mission fails, you'll be filled with lead at Olympia Dome along with us. Two: if the mission succeeds, Taratua will sell you to us.... There's no way out for you. Your life is already over, crazy girl."
That was the end of it.
The young man swung his fist down into the center of Heivia's face and the unfunny idiot's consciousness was swiftly taken from him.
Part 6
"Naval Security Sigma 3 to all. We have reached the unidentified ship. It has been sending out a distress signal... but it isn't responding to our radio transmissions, flashing light signals, or loudspeaker calls. Please advise."
"This is OD Control. Wait, Sigma 3. Olympia Dome lacks the authority to board and raid ships."
"Sigma 3. Isn't it already within 200 nautical miles?"
"OD Control. An artificial floating island cannot claim territorial waters or an exclusive economic zone. Also, Olympia Dome is neutral in every possible way."
"(How can you say that after letting in Faith Organization troops like us?)"
"OD Control here. State your call sign before speaking, Sigma 3. We can only board ships that have already sunk. That one is still floating, isn't it? As planned, attach the buffering material and then let the waves carry it into the dock."
"Sigma 3. They aren't controlling the rudder or decelerating. This might destroy the harbor block."
"OD Control. Unlike a normal harbor, an artificial floating island can alter its direction and speed. That means we can match our speed to theirs. If they aren't moving, we just have to move."
"Sigma 3 to all. Starboard bow complete."
"Theta 7. Port middle complete."
"Phi 2. Starboard stern complete."
"Psi 4. Starboard middle complete."
"Delta 9. Port stern complete."
"Sigma 3 to Lambda 1. What happened to the port bow?"
"..."
"Lambda 1!"
"Zeta 0 to Sigma 3. Lambda 1 has a phobia of sharks and micro bikinis. It's all thanks to being swept out to sea when a carnivorous young woman licked her lips and devoured his virginity on a rubber boat. He's probably off trembling somewhere right now."
"Sigma 3. How is that traumatic? I'm jealous as hell. I lost mine to the old lady at the cigarette store. I'll make up for his absence."
"OD Control here. Trouble, Sigma 3?"
"Sigma 3. Nothing worth saving to the control recorder."
"OD Control. Then stop discussing your virginities. Just so you know, I'm still afraid of holes in walls. Specifically ones just big enough to hold a nice breakfast banana."
"Sigma 3 here. Shut up. And we're done now anyway. What even happened to that cool-headed operator woman? Anyway, match their speed and catch them softly. Softly!"
"OD Control. You don't have to shout. This entire rescue operation would be pointless if the impact was strong enough to kill the people inside."
"(Curse these softhearted people who only know peace. Makes it hard to fight a war. )"
"OD Control here. Use your call sign, Sigma 3."
Part 7
"Thanks for the help" was all they could say.
"Let's get started."
On Heivia's word, the battle began.
Once the Faith Organization had firmly affixed the ship to the harbor block, the Legitimacy Kingdom potatoes kicked open the bent metal door and rushed out toward the edge of the deck with assault rifles and carbines in hand.
Their first target was the concrete wharf area about 9 meters down from the starboard side of the ship.
A continuous hail of bullets filled the armed Faith Organization soldiers with holes. While exposed to the recoil of the gunfire, Heivia was honestly relieved that they were professional soldiers. If these were simply Olympia Dome staff, this would have been a nightmare.
This was in line with the information they had been given, but he had not been trained to the point that he would thank Taratua for anything. He gave a shout while ducking behind the thick metal panel attached to the railing to swap out his assault rifle's magazine.
"There's a sniper on the gantry crane! And if the gathered soldiers start to move apart, that's the sign for a rocket. Destroy them first!!"
This time, Heivia had a separate shotgun attached below his rifle's barrel. By swapping between real and rubber bullets, he could neutralize the harmless workers without killing them. Of course, this had nothing to do with mercy or philanthropy.... It was an efficiency optimization policy that used that "kindness" to lighten the soldier's trigger finger.
"Don't get your ammo type mixed up, Myonri. You won't just get a red or white flag for it!"
"I know that!!"
They exchanged fire for a while, but the Legitimacy Kingdom's chances of taking the wharf area did not look promising. They would have their best chance when their opponent was surprised by this unexpected attack, but Olympia Dome was the Faith Organization's home turf and they held all the advantageous ground. Once they recovered from their shock, it would be the Legitimacy Kingdom's turn to be overwhelmed.
"Is turning the entire slug into a rubber bullet really a humanitarian measure?" asked Myonri.
"It's mostly just an excuse to yourself. Even if the enemy finds it silly, they can't respond to the double tactics. Meanwhile, our trigger fingers are a lot lighter since we 'might not kill them', so our efficiency rises. It's the same as the Island Nation's concept of 'striking with the back of the blade'. There's apparently a theory that the samurai could attack so boldly because katanas weren't double-edged."
| ← Ch. 129 | Ch. 131 → |