by Shouji Gatou
He kicked, and the Venom dodged. He spun around and lashed out with an elbow; the Venom dodged. He grabbed it by the nape of the neck and brought the knife down; the Venom couldn’t dodge that, and the Arbalest’s monomolecular cutter tore a vertical slash down its face. It destroyed the lone red eye that acted as the Venom’s sensor, causing it to shoot sparks like a spurt of blood, and Gauron howled.
Sousuke wasn’t satisfied. He stabbed the knife into the abdomen of the now-blinded machine. With superhuman instinct, Gauron anticipated the knife’s course, and he brought his left arm up to block. The knife met his machine just below the elbow, and tore apart its drive system.
But Sousuke wasn’t done yet; he pulled out and stabbed the Venom again. Repeated use had caused his monomolecular cutter to overheat, and its edge let out a high-pitched scream as it tore itself apart. But Sousuke didn’t give up; still holding the handle of the broken knife, he struck it again and again into the Venom’s chest. The enemy machine was backed into the rear hangar until it hit the wall right next to the elevators.
“Urgh... ahh...”
Realizing that the Venom was slowing down, Sousuke finally stopped hitting it. The enemy machine trembled and latched onto the Arbalest like a boxer in a clinch. Shoulders heaving with breath, Sousuke looked at his machine’s hand; striking the enemy’s armor at full power had left the Arbalest’s manipulators broken and worthless.
Gauron let out a slow chuckle; it seemed his external speakers were still working. “I guess... you got me,” he whispered. The Venom had been almost completely reduced to scrap. Its head was destroyed, its left arm was barely functional, and its chest armor was warped and hanging off its frame. “You’ve won... Kashim. Or... have you?”
Sousuke waited, questioningly.
“I really am glad that you’ll be with me in the end...” Gauron snickered again.
Sousuke was a bit thrown, unsure of what he was getting at. He shouldn’t be able to fight back any longer. No, wait... Is he going to self-destruct?! That was what his instincts told him.
Gauron was currently clinging to the Arbalest with all his might. He had wrapped his machine’s arms and legs around it, channeling all remaining energy into its electromagnetic muscles. His was the more powerful of the pair, from the start, after all, and now, he was spurred by desperation. The Arbalest lost its balance, and tumbled back-first into the elevator.
“Why don’t we go out together?” Gauron mused. “Hmm?” It was clear, now. That was his intent. How much was the payload? Enough to just take out his own machine? Or enough to blow a hole in the submarine’s hull?
Sousuke startled as, just then, the floor below them jerked into motion. The elevator holding the two machines had begun to ascend. It was a square platform about twenty by twenty meters, and it was used to carry ASes and helicopters to the flight deck that lay directly above the hangar.
The control room was in pandemonium. One issue was that the fight in the hangar had severed a number of pipes and cables, large and small. Another was that they hadn’t yet refilled the compressed air needed to get the submarine moving again. Another more serious issue was the firing of more torpedoes from the US submarine. But what shocked them more than anything was the fact that the flight hatch—that nearly 70-meter-long stretch of hull in the fore of the vessel—had begun to open of its own accord. The flight hatch was designed to open when helicopters or ASes needed to take off from the flight deck; doing so meant sliding the top of the submarine open over a massive scale. To open it in this storm was pure madness.
Mardukas burst into the control room and shouted, “What are you doing?!”
All Goddard and the others could say was, “we have no idea.” Displayed on the front screen was a set of words written in slightly odd English; they were in a strangely feminine hand.
Don’t worry, everything is gonna happy
Don’t worry, it urged them. This will all go just fine.
The elevator continued its rise.
“Well? Sixty seconds left! By the way, I’m loaded up with 300 kilos of explosives,” Gauron shouted. “More than enough to blow up this sub! Well, what now? What will you do?!” It sounded like the Venom’s self-destruct was on a timer.
Sousuke tried to shake the enemy off him, but the Venom clung on tightly and refused to let him go. Its hands scrambled around the Arbalest and resisted any attempts to be moved. The fact that he’d broken the fingers of one machine had made it even harder to pry his opponent off. The way the two ASes clung to each other made them look like two judo fighters, competing for a pin.
Gauron laughed. “What’s the matter with you? This is just pathetic!” It was the laugh of a good-humored devil. “Why can’t you finish me off in one strike, like a proper hero? Look at you, struggling! Let’s go out with a bang; make it fun and interesting! C’mon, Kashim!!”
“What’s wrong with him?!” Sousuke questioned through gritted teeth. It’s like he’s gone mad. No... he’s always been this way. This man was always rotten to the core. He’d do anything just to spite someone.
The elevator’s ascent stopped as the two ASes reached the abandoned flight deck. The massive hatch was already open, allowing a view of the dark sky above. The rain poured on the Arbalest and Venom in a torrent, and the waves lashed them with spray. Below them, the sub shook with roars and vibrations. They were in the middle of a storm, literally—any unprotected human up here would be tossed around like a ragdoll.
If only I could drag the Venom to the bow of the flight deck, Sousuke thought, I could throw it into the ocean before the explosion. Even if he couldn’t shake him off, he could at least drag him into the sea and save the de Danaan. Who had started up the elevator? Who had opened the flight hatch? He didn’t know, but whoever it was, they had heard Gauron’s voice and knew what he was planning.
Still, it was over fifty meters from the elevator to the ocean. It was hard for Sousuke to move with another machine clinging to him, so he had to crawl to make progress. It would take about a minute to get from his current location to the place where the prow smashed through the massive waves; he wouldn’t make it in time.
Whether aware of that or not, Gauron shouted, “Thirty seconds left! What now, honey?!”
“Ngh...” Sousuke reeled his machine back, had it punch at the Venom, kick at the Venom. He struggled in any way he could think of, but it wasn’t working. He couldn’t shake him off.
Sousuke tried crawling, but it was slow going. The end of the flight deck was too far away. If only it were free, the Arbalest could cover 100 meters in a second! he thought in desperate frustration.
“Twenty seconds left!” Gauron cackled. “Just kidding! It’s really fifteen! Hahaha, hahahahaha!” He was the most twisted person in existence. Sousuke gritted his teeth and looked around him.
And then... he saw it: the metal rigging built into the flight deck, just within reach. They were protrusions, several meters long, that resembled the starter blocks for sprinters at a track meet.
“Ten seconds!” Gauron crowed.
White steam wafted up from below, seeming to urge Sousuke, “hurry, hurry!” He used all the strength the Arbalest’s back muscles had, propelled it from the deck, and stretched its hands toward the device. The left hand made contact. He released the wire gun mounted in the Arbalest’s arm—a device like the reel on a fishing pole—and wound it around the rigging’s hook. Then, Sousuke wrapped the wire around the Venom’s torso.
“Five seconds left!” Gauron sang out. “I love you, Kashim!!”
Ignoring his words, Sousuke shouted out over all radio bands, “Let ’er rip!” The next instant, the device—the shuttle blocks for the steam catapult—activated. Its purpose was to get multi-ton ASes and jet fighters to liftoff speed in seconds. The power backing it was incredible.
Gauron was taken aback as the Venom, now tangled up in the wires, was dragged along the flight deck with the Arbalest, propelled by the catapult’s explosive force. Both machines bounced al
ong the deck, heading straight for the boat’s front edge. “Wh-What?!” he yelled in surprise.
The two machines crossed the fifty meters in an instant, then were cast off the end of the flight deck toward the ocean, far beyond. But, just before it fell, the Arbalest used the wire gun in its other arm to latch onto the flight deck. The jolt as the line went taut almost caused the hook to lose its grip, but it managed to keep hold of the deck, giving the Arbalest a tentative lifeline.
The Venom, on the other hand, had no wire guns. The red AS howled through empty space and exploded, just before plunging into the waves of the violent sea. Gauron hadn’t been lying about the 300-kilogram payload.
The red fireball swelled against the raging winds and rain. It had tracked a little to the right as it hurtled ahead of the de Danaan, and as it hit the surface of the ocean, the impact spread shrapnel and caused the large vessel to pitch to the left. After taking the brunt of the shockwave, the Arbalest began to plummet toward the sea... but it just managed to grab the edge of the deck with its free hand.
The Tuatha de Danaan cut straight through the fire and fragments left in the Venom’s wake. Sousuke’s machine teetered on the brink of plummeting, but he manipulated it carefully and just managed to crawl it back up onto the flight deck. Pieces of the detonated Venom were scattering down around him here and there, still crackling with fire, but the flames were quickly quenched by the rain. The Arbalest collapsed next to the catapult, shoulders heaving.
Gauron... was dead. This time, he was sure of it. This time, it wasn’t just wishful thinking. Even if he’d managed to live through the explosion—somehow—the ocean and the storm would make quick work of him. He couldn’t possibly survive out here.
His mortal enemy was dead. He’d slain the man who slaughtered all his old comrades, yet Sousuke couldn’t muster any sentiment about it. The man was too petty to inspire that kind of feeling. Through and through, right to the end, to a degree you could almost call art...
“Stupid...” Sousuke muttered to himself, covered in sweat and breathing rapidly. “‘Kashim, Kashim’... Don’t act like we’re friends, you piece of shit...”
Since his voice was on an open channel, Kaname accidentally overheard it. Sousuke had cursed. There was something charming about it, though: it gave him a sense of humanity and hinted at a more complicated past. Maybe his attitude to her right after the mission, too, had had something to do with Gauron—with that past.
I’m sorry for being so insensitive, Kaname thought and meant it. Now that I think about it, I really don’t know anything about you yet, do I? That was right. Even though they were the same age, he was a veteran mercenary; a top-class soldier, who served on board this submarine. Plus, she’d just seen him knock that gross jerk’s block off. He was amazing, genuinely spectacular... and she was quietly pleased by the thought that someone like her could fluster someone like him.
She could feel the ship breathing. The Arbalest was back inside, and the flight hatch was closing. They’d soon have their compressed air stores refilled, too. The torpedoes that the Pasadena had fired off were approaching, but re-engaging the superconductive drive would let them shake those off easily.
Everything was fine, now. With that thought, Kaname found herself drifting away from the sphere, and she opened her eyes to find herself sitting inside that medium between mind and matter, the TAROS. The cover above her was open. She could see the roof of the de Danaan’s Lady Chapel. So many things she’d assumed she would forget—the submarine’s layout, the things she’d done, the power she’d felt, the knowledge of how to influence the Sphere—she still understood almost all of them.
USS Pasadena
The sonar technician reported, “Um... the Toy Box is moving away. Depth 500, incredible speed... probably over 50 knots... I don’t think our torpedoes can catch it. What in the world...?”
Then XO Takenaka chimed in. “It gave us the slip, eh? What an amazing vessel...”
Captain Sailor slumped over and glared at Takenaka. “Then what are we? We fired four ADCAPs that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, you know. I look like a total fool.”
“What’s wrong with that?” the XO asked scornfully. “You are a total fool.”
Sailor grabbed Takenaka by the collar, and the others had to rush to stop him.
Epilogue
Four people had died in all. Tessa didn’t care at all about the traitors, Dunnigan and Nguyen, but Captain McAllen and Private Liang were painful losses.
Mardukas and the other officers reassured her, “Given the situation, it’s a miracle that we only lost two men.” There had been no more deaths after the seajacking occurred, and as captain, Tessa deserved credit for that. Nevertheless, she remained completely despondent.
Even Major Kalinin, who heard about the incident after the fact, felt a powerful sense of responsibility. The traitors had come out of his SRT, and his own aide was one of the dead. He seemed to have secretly resigned himself to something... but no one could know what it was at this stage.
After arriving at the Merida Island Base, the crew lined up and took roll. This had been the captain’s job since days of old, and on the Tuatha de Danaan, the roll for the ground forces was included. Tessa had all of her subordinates’ names committed to memory. She faced them all, lined up neatly in the underground dock, and said, “Lieutenant Colonel Richard Mardukas.”
“Ma’am.”
“Captain William Goddard.”
“Ma’am.”
It went on and on. After a hundred and some names, Tessa read, “Captain Gail McAllen.”
“On patrol, Captain,” Mardukas responded. Tessa gave him a slight nod, expressionlessly, thinking of the winner of the bingo tournament. His smile. With excessive self-control, she managed to silence her inner thoughts.
“Master Sergeant Melissa Mao.”
“Ma’am.”
“Sergeant Roger Sandraptor.”
“Ma’am.”
“Sergeant Kurz Weber.”
“Yo.”
“Sergeant Sagara Sousuke.”
“Ma’am.”
As she read through the SRT, she skipped the names of Dunnigan and Nguyen. When she reached the PRT members, then, she called the name of another of their dead. “Private Liang Xiaoping.”
“On patrol, Captain,” Mardukas told her, calmly. Once again, Tessa said nothing.
When the roll was finished, the bodies were transferred to the base, as McAllen and Liang’s coffins were each carried by six of their colleagues. They would both be buried in their home towns.
Their families would be told that they had died in accidents when working for Argyros, a security company. They wouldn’t be told the specifics; they didn’t know that Tessa existed. She wasn’t even allowed to write letters of condolences to the families, but such was the nature of what they did.
This incident had taught Kaname all about the hardships Tessa faced in life... After watching the transport holding the coffins take off from the Merida Island Base’s covert runway, she caught sight of the other girl heading back to the living quarters area. “You should talk to her,” she told Sousuke. “Cheer her up.”
Sousuke stood for a moment in stunned silence, then approached Tessa as Kaname watched them from afar. In that empty corridor, Sousuke said something to her, and she drew up to him, pressed her face against his chest, and began to sob. Kaname let out a sigh, and went back to the guest quarters she’d been assigned.
About four hours before their plane to Tokyo was set to depart, Sousuke appeared in her room.
“What?” she asked.
“Come with me.” He was holding what looked like a rifle case and an ammunition box. Confused, Kaname followed after, and for about ninety minutes they walked across the base’s north half—a place made up of rocky mountains and broad-leaved trees. Eventually, the two of them came out on a rocky beach illuminated by the setting sun. It was a beautiful sight.
“Take this.” Sousuke pulled a carbon fiber
fishing rod from the rifle case and handed it to Kaname.
“What’s this?” she wanted to know.
“A fishing rod.”
“No, not that... What is this place?” she asked.
“My secret fishing spot,” he responded with his usual sullen expression. “I’m the only one on the base who knows about it.”
“Fishing? But we’d only have forty minutes before we have to turn back and get on the plane to Tokyo...”
“Irrelevant,” Sousuke said dismissively. “This was my initial mission objective.”
“Huh?” Kaname looked at him dubiously, and he cast his baited fishing line into the ocean.
“It’s where I initially wanted to bring you,” he told her. “But... I suppose we’ve taken the long way around, haven’t we?”
“H... Here?”
“Affirmative.” Sousuke looked down at his watch, then nodded. “Go on, fish. Thirty minutes is enough time to catch a big one.”
“Stupid!” Kaname scoffed. “There’s no way...”
“You think?” Sousuke said, his tone somehow daring. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can do anything. Catch the biggest fish, escape the most dangerous situation... So I think thirty minutes will be enough. Just stay with me for that long.”
She looked at him skeptically. “Do you really think that?”
“Of course,” he told her. “It’s because of you that I’m here right now.”
For a moment, Kaname just stared at him... then, eventually, she gave him a big smile. “Okay, got it. Let’s put that hunch of yours to the test.” They cast their lines into the ocean and sat side by side on the beach. It only lasted for thirty minutes, and neither one caught anything in the end, and nothing particularly noteworthy happened, but...
They enjoyed the heck out of those thirty minutes.
The End
Afterword
Sorry for the long wait. Sousuke’s mortal enemy returns and puts the thumbscrews to Mithril once again. This time, we’re at sea! It’s a military thriller out on the ocean... kind of thing? Maybe not? Anyway, FMP’s third long-form story, Trembling Into the Blue, is officially here.
