by Shouji Gatou
“Goodbye...” he said. I have only one path left to me. Enduring the pain in his side, he let himself slide into the open cockpit hatch.
The ship rocked, the corridor tilted, and an eerie roaring echoed around them.
“This way.” Sousuke kept his gun straight in front of him as he continued down the passage. Tessa lost her balance countless times, but Kaname reluctantly supported her.
Despite what had happened in the schoolyard earlier, they weren’t acting very hostile to him—even though he’d been sure they resented his decision. I just don’t understand... Perhaps I made the right choice after all? I’ll have to consult with Kurz later. Those were the thoughts that consumed his mind as he ran toward the stairs.
Just as he reached them, he ran into a man with a rifle on the way up from a lower deck. Both shouted in shock, and pointed their guns at each other simultaneously.
“Oh, hey.” It was a tall, slender man with long blond hair.
“Kurz-kun?” Kaname asked incredulously.
“Weber-san,” Tessa acknowledged.
Kurz grinned. “Hey, Kaname-chan, Tessa-chan. You’re looking well. I’m happy to see you. You both deserve a treat.”
“What are you talking about?” Kaname asked.
“Nothing, really,” Kurz said innocently. “Just changing up my greeting.”
“Is that all?” she asked suspiciously.
“That’s all. Anyway, it’s taking on water faster than I thought... We’d better hurry.”
“Right,” she answered.
Kurz began climbing the stairs. Lending credence to his words, the ship had entered a steady tilt, very different from the earlier rocking. The sound of water, like violent currents, began to echo up from the floors below.
“You think we used too much powder?” Sousuke asked.
“Hmm,” Kurz pondered. “Well, explosives aren’t really my specialty.”
“You never mentioned that before,” Sousuke said dryly.
“I seek beauty in destruction; a single point of focus,” Kurz defended himself. “That’s why I’m so good at sniping.”
Listening to their conversation from behind, Kaname whispered, “What a weird double act...”
At last, the group came out on the deck. They were close to the prow, and they could see the ocean rising as the tail continued to sink. Containers on the deck began to snap their restraints and fall into the sea. As the deck warped further, a container crane came loose and collapsed, falling just beside them. Kaname shrieked.
“Yeah, yeah,” Kurz commented. “Dangerous up here...”
“Hurry,” Sousuke said.
As the George Clinton continued to sink in earnest, its prow began to tilt upward. They managed, with difficulty, to make it to the port side; the deck was at a severe angle now, and they were no longer really walking, so to speak. The broadside was just close enough to the pier for them to jump.
“I’ll go first!” With a lithe leap, Kurz landed on the pier. He shouldered his rifle and held out both hands. “C’mon. You first, Tessa.”
It was about two meters from the deck to the pier. Tessa hesitated a moment, but with Sousuke’s help, she jumped with all her might. Kurz caught her firmly, and Tessa’s escape was complete.
“Okay, now Kaname!” Kurz shouted encouragingly. Kaname jumped without any hesitation, and Sousuke brought up the rear. The four of them quickly got their distance, ran to a large pile of neatly stacked containers, then turned back to watch the cargo ship sink.
“Hmm, feels like the end of a great evil,” Kurz mused. “Needs more explosions, though. The final boss’s castle really should go down in flames. It’s kinda anticlimactic without it, y’know?”
“What are you talking about?” Sousuke grumbled.
“But...” Despite having made it to safety, Tessa’s expression remained grim. “Kalinin-san hasn’t made it out yet. I’m worried. With the way it’s sinking...”
“What?” Kurz asked. “The old man’s alive?”
“Yes. Why would you assume he’s dead?” Tessa glared at Kurz.
He put a hand to his chin, not even seeming to notice her look. “Ah, this might be pretty bad. That’s a tricky spot to get out of, even for someone like him...”
“I have an idea. Uruz-7 to Uruz-2,” Sousuke spoke into his radio, calling to Mao, who was on standby.
“Uruz-2 here. How’d it turn out?”
“The major is inside the sinking ship. He’s probably in the hold,” Sousuke told her. “Can you rescue him?”
“Oh, hell! Why didn’t you say that earlier?!” Suddenly, the air behind them distorted wildly.
“Wh-What?!” Kaname was the only one shocked.
Blue lightning shot through the empty air. A thin membrane of light expanded, and then a massive figure showed itself, pouring into existence like ink spilled on a canvas. Sparks of light went flying, and suddenly, there was a gray AS kneeling beside them. It was Mao’s M9 Gernsback, previously rendered invisible via ECS. She’d been on standby here in case of an attack from the Savage from before.
The M9 shot a V-sign to the flabbergasted Kaname. Then it stood up, waved to them, and took off in a run toward the sinking cargo ship.
“Melissa, be careful. There might still be a hostile inside that ship,” Tessa said, leaning over to use Sousuke’s transmitter.
“No worries,” Mao answered. “I’m not about to get beaten by a Savage.”
“It’s not that. The thing in there is—”
Sirens could be heard in the distance. Whirling red lights reflected off the nearby containers. It seemed the police had arrived.
“Ugh, they made it.” Kurz clicked his tongue distastefully. They’d probably make it to this pier while Mao was out searching for Kalinin; if the police saw the M9—an AS of unknown affiliation—they might open fire. Of course, small arms wouldn’t even scratch an M9’s armor, but...
From a corner of the cargo ship came the sound of ripping metal. Startled, the four turned to look.
Mao’s M9 was standing on the deck of the now mostly submerged ship. Something wasn’t right. Its posture was upright, but its back was arched over, and its arms were flailing.
“What’s wrong, Mao?” Sousuke asked.
“Wha... What is...?!” Her voice, coming in over the radio, sounded utterly bewildered. There was another sound of creaking metal. Its back still arched, the M9 slowly began to rise into the air. No—it was being lifted, by something that had grabbed its lower half.
It was a giant hand. The hand itself was about the same size as the M9... no, it was even longer, thicker, and stronger. One of its fingers was the same size as the AS’s arm. The deck bulged upward, creaked, and let out a scream. The arm’s master was about to break loose from the hold.
“What...” Tessa breathed.
At last, scattering shards of metal everywhere, the assailant revealed itself, towering proudly against the night sky.
5: Behemoth
27 June, 0236 Hours (Japan Standard Time)
Akami Pier, Koto Ward, Tokyo
Sousuke was sure it was an optical illusion. Though he was at a distance now, it still took him some time to process it as “humanoid.” It was so big, his mind just wouldn’t accept the idea.
But the truth remained, no matter how his instincts might protest: The seawater-soaked red armor, the broad upper arms and thighs... Its head couldn’t be seen from below; the protrusion of the chest blocked it from view. The four of them, Sousuke included, could only stare up at the huge arm slave and gape.
“What in the hell...” Kurz whispered.
Sousuke furrowed his brow, his expression intense. “It’s absurd...” he breathed. He’d seen the thing in the hold before, but from up close, he’d been unable to really grasp the shape of it. He’d simply parsed it as “some giant machine.” It was hard to fault him for doing so; who could imagine an arm slave that was five times the height of a normal one? Even as someone who knew ASes inside and out—rather, perha
ps because he knew them so well—Sousuke had never even considered that one this size could exist.
There were reasons why most ASes were about eight meters and ten tons: Skeletal endurance; the EM muscle actuators’ optimal output; size of generators; covertness; ease of maintenance; efficiency of production; mission objectives; size needed for corresponding firearms; et cetera, et cetera... Careful calculations had been done taking all of these elements into account, and that was the size settled on as most effective.
The massive AS had a simple outward appearance, with none of the intricate armor plating of the M9. There was something ancient about its presence, like a mythical giant armored with piecemeal iron sheets. It felt less like a product of technology, and more like a clockwork figurine, given life by magic.
Gripping the M9 tightly below the waist, the giant AS began to squeeze. Its armor creaked, on the verge of splitting.
“I c-can’t move!” Mao screamed.
Tessa snapped out of her daze and shouted into the radio, “Melissa! Use your monomolecular cutter on the thumb!”
“Thumb? What thumb?!” Mao didn’t seem to realize she was in the grip of a colossal AS. She was too close to catch the scope of what she was dealing with, and her AI’s likely inability to identify the enemy must be adding to her panic.
“Right now, there’s an enormous—” Tessa’s attempt was interrupted by a new shriek from Mao. The giant’s other hand had grabbed the M9’s top half; it had turned her machine on its side and begun to twist.
Tessa gasped.
The giant yanked its hands apart, tearing the M9 in two.
Milky white liquid—the drive system’s shock absorbent—sprayed like blood from its severed torso, as its upper half jerked around in a series of eerie convulsions.
“Melissa!” Tessa screamed. Even Kurz went pale at the sight. Kaname averted her eyes and grabbed tight to Sousuke’s arm.
The giant AS—if you could even call it that—held the severed M9 halves up high, as though offering tribute to the Goddess of Night.
Hoh... A low, muffled sound echoed through the harbor. Hoh... hoh hoh hoh hoh...
It was a voice. It was coming from the giant. Woofers, installed somewhere on the machine’s body, were conveying the operator’s laughter to the outside world. It seemed to well up from the ground below; a foreboding sound that sent a chill up the spine despite the hot and humid summer night.
The giant tossed the M9’s remains aside; each half hit a separate part of the ocean, raising up a splash in turn.
“Mao...”
Sousuke was about to rush out, but Kurz held him back. “You’re gonna jump into the ocean with that thing right there? It’ll crush you like a bug!”
“But—”
“I’m worried about Big Sis, too, but we’ve got bigger things to worry about... Look.”
The giant had bent slightly at the waist to examine Sousuke and the others. The head, previously hidden behind the chest, could now be seen in the dim light. It looked like it was wearing a cylindrical helmet, but the place where its mouth should be was instead home to a line of four machine cannons.
“I think he likes us,” Kurz said.
The giant gazed at them with hollow eyes. It looked ready to attack at any time, but... instead it turned away, slowly rotating its upper half to face the arriving police and JSDF battalions.
The officers and soldiers, piling out of their patrol cars and transport trucks, stared up at the giant in disbelief. Three JSDF ASes (the Type-96, a 2nd generation machine) brought by trailer were already activated and on the ground—but they, like the people at their feet, simply looked blankly up at the giant.
“Sagara-san, do you have a satellite communicator?” Tessa asked.
“My radio can transmit,” Sousuke told her.
“Let me use it,” she demanded.
“Yes, ma’am. For now, we should get our distance... Head for the car.” Sousuke took off, running for the car they had taken to the pier. The other three followed after; gawking at the thing wouldn’t get them anywhere.
“What’s she going to do?!” Kaname asked.
“Call for reinforcements?” Sousuke guessed. “Or we may need a cruise missile...”
“Reinforcements? Where the heck would you get—”
Behind them, the police were standing their ground, issuing a warning through a megaphone. “D-Deactivate your machine and come down from there! If you don’t, we... we’ll open fire! Do you hear me?! Deactivate your machine and—” There was a dull splashing sound.
They looked up, and saw that the towering giant had set a foot onto the pier. It didn’t do more than crack the asphalt below. This in itself seemed impossible; the ground should have collapsed beneath its weight.
“F-Fire!!” Like a dam bursting, the guns roared out. Shots deluged the giant with a sound like a raging waterfall.
Unfortunately, not even the ASes’ 40mm rifles could pierce the giant’s armor, to say nothing of the infantry’s small arms; they just sparked trivially against the right side of its frame.
“They’re not going to beat it that way,” Sousuke whispered as he hurried toward the car.
To Takuma, the bullet swarm was like a mild drizzle. The pain in his wound was gone now; he felt elated. It was like he was flying. He could break a standard AS in half like a toy; the slightest flick of his hand could reduce a building to rubble. He was the giant—his consciousness filled it, head to toe.
The pathetic assault continued.
“Annoying flies...” Takuma whispered, regripping his master suit lever and pressing a round button with his thumb.
《Lambda driver function B, ready,》 the Behemoth’s AI informed him.
Let’s have a test, he decided.
One of the JSDF ASes had readied a large rocket launcher. It wasn’t the latest model, but it was powerful enough to punch a hole in a tank—mighty though it was, not even the Behemoth could endure a blow like that.
Takuma concentrated. His will, amplified—altered, some might say—through training and drugs, crafted an image. The image he was sculpting was something like “shield”—Not just the thickness, feel, and weight of a shield, but something much more specific.
He imagined every molecule falling into place. No, “molecule” wasn’t the right word either—what he wanted wasn’t comprised of physical matter, but of a power that existed beyond substance. A power that took reason to draw together and manipulate—that was the best way to express it. The proper words to describe it hadn’t been invented yet.
A JSDF machine unleashed a large rocket. It was heading right for Takuma’s—for the Behemoth’s—chest.
An image that no one had ever seen, had ever heard of; an image that no one could even conceive of—no one except for him—his mind could conjure in an instant.
The lambda driver gave that image form.
The rocket streaking toward the Behemoth exploded just before impact. Its scalding hot, highly pressurized metal jet burst emptily against an unseen wall. There was no damage done to the Behemoth’s armor. It was a gratifying feeling.
“That won’t work.” Takuma smiled cruelly, then pulled a trigger. All four of the Behemoth’s head-mounted 30mm machine cannons began to spit fire in a move the machine’s designer had dubbed “Dragon’s Breath.”
Destruction rained down on the enemy army. One after another, police cars and SPVs were shredded and exploded. Tires went bouncing to thirty meter heights; trails of burning gasoline spread; black smoke covered the pier. Men ran this way and that—crying, screaming, crawling.
Takuma laughed. And all I did was blow on them! He’d taken out nearly all of the police vehicles, but the JSDF ASes—the Type-96s—were still around. One was drawing back, panicking, reflecting the movements of the operator inside. The leading machine still seemed to want to fight, but the knees of the one to its right were knocking.
Takuma reached behind him and drew the “tachi” mounted on his back. This was a Japane
se-style sword three times the length of a standard AS, made of layered ceramic and titanium alloy. Though a tachi was traditionally a cutting sword, this one seemed more like a bludgeon.
Holding the tachi aloft, the Behemoth charged at the three ASes. This required no particular effort on his part; he just had to walk and crush.
His first swing of the tachi smashed the leader machine to pieces. Another horizontal sweep, and the second was bisected. The final machine fell onto its backside, both hands raised. He just casually kicked it away, causing it to crumple like a soda can as it flew off.
Takuma laughed louder. What a marvelous feeling! No one can stop me. No one can escape me. I’m so glad I came here. I never should have hesitated. Now there’s no question that I’m the king of the world...
Beyond the mountain of containers, she could see an AS’s severed arm fly through the air; the giant must have already taken out the JSDF machines. Flames from explosions streaked the night sky, and shouts and screams echoed across the pier.
Ahh... why didn’t they just run away? Tessa wondered. She couldn’t help but feel responsible for the tragedy unfolding around her. If only she had killed Takuma in Sousuke’s apartment, or anywhere else along the way... If she had, this never would have happened. They might have lost Kalinin, but the enemy would have given up on activating the Behemoth, and... and...
Infinite choices. Infinite forks in the road.
Would that have been a reason to kill him, though? Could I really have made that decision?
“No, I couldn’t,” she told herself.
For the first time, I’ve been forced to face my imperfections: how I dealt with Sousuke, how I dealt with Kaname... I’ve been made acutely aware of my inconsistencies, my hypocrisies. To think that yesterday, I aspired to omnipotence... and now, how powerless I am!
Sousuke’s voice broke Tessa out of her anguished reverie. “Colonel. The reinforcements?”
“What?” she asked.
