Just me, huh? Rentaro sighed, gazing at the curtains of the tent fluttering in the wind. His mind wandered to the conversation with his students during the day. Even if it had been to calm the hearts of children fraught with worry, it pricked his conscience a little that he had lied and said, “We have the self-defense force, so it’ll be fine,” without any basis for that statement.
Truth be told, he was worried, too.
In the self-defense force that had won the Second Kanto Battle, aside from the traditional conservatives, there were also the war advocates who wanted to open up the Monoliths and decisively get rid of the Gastrea. They had recently gained power, and lately, it appeared that these men and women did not even obey the commands of the Seitenshi.
The man named Takuto Yasuwaki, whom Rentaro had met and had intense confrontations with during the Seitenshi assassination attempt, was one of those in the war advocacy group that had been created after the Second Kanto War. And he had heard that the group camped out in front of the Monolith were all of the same type as Yasuwaki. If they underestimated Aldebaran’s strength, then that could come back and turn into a crisis for Tokyo Area. Rentaro held at bay his uneasiness that wouldn’t go away and took a deep breath, praying that he was worrying needlessly.
Just then, a voice that sounded like the buzz of a mosquito entered the tent. “Satomi, are you awake?”
Rentaro slowly lifted his eyelids. “Kisara?”
“Yeah, do you want to go for a walk?” Her voice came from outside the tent. Rentaro got up quietly to keep from waking Enju next to him and went out of the squad tent.
Yesterday, it had been hot and humid and hard to sleep, so he had braced himself, but the wind that hit his skin didn’t feel especially hot or cold and was instead a comfortable temperature. The undergrowth swayed with a rustling sound in time to the sound of the insects, and in the midst of that stood Kisara, holding down her hair to protect it from the wind. For some reason, Kisara’s smile showed both loneliness and embarrassment. “Did I wake you?”
Rentaro shook his head. “How far are we going?”
“Let’s see.” Kisara kept her hands clasped behind her and spun around, looking at the sky. “Let’s go to Monolith 32.”
“That’s a little far.” After a moment’s thought, he suddenly had the brilliant idea of taking Kisara to the frontline headquarters.
Seeing a sentry standing on watch next to the motorcycle parking area, he saluted. “Commander Gado asked me to take a message,” he said smoothly.
Three minutes later, Rentaro had the keys to a motorcycle in his hands. Taking the helmet off the Kawasaki motorcycle with a sidecar he had chosen, he handed it to Kisara, who took it in astonishment, then finally gave up and shook her head, fastening the buckle under her chin.
“Do you remember how to drive?” she asked.
“I haven’t driven since getting my civil officer license, so it’s been about a year. But I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He turned the key in the ignition and started off. At first, he had a hard time with the rough, unpaved roads, but eventually, his hands remembered what to do, and the rest of the time passed quickly.
After about twenty minutes, they saw the front line facilities of the self-defense force. Rentaro casually passed through the base, but in fact, he was burning the whole of the facilities into his memory.
The troops were probably composed of foot soldiers called the Infantry Brigade. He could only estimate the number of people based on the scale of the facilities, but there were probably around six thousand. There were armored vehicles and tanks lined up in rows and a missile silo. The sentry was holding a Shiba Heavy Weapons Type 21 rifle; he was well equipped and seemed to be in high spirits. This was the full strength of the SDF…
Rentaro slowed the motorcycle at the side of the Monolith and suddenly felt all signs of life disappear. They were probably trying to stay away from the Monolith to protect themselves from the fragments and mineral dust produced by its collapse.
Cutting through the wind on the motorcycle, Rentaro lifted his gaze and thought, It can’t be helped. The Monolith stood sternly in front of them to protect Tokyo Area, but it would soon succumb to its incurable disease and be stained white, falling to pieces. Even just looking at it was horrifying, and it was human nature to not want to be caught up in that.
Twenty meters in front of the Monolith, Rentaro stopped the motorcycle and told Kisara, “We’re here.”
She took off her helmet and shook her head. Her beautiful black hair, which sparkled even in the dark night, fell to her waist in waves. “Thanks for driving,” she said, and started walking briskly to the Monolith.
“H-hey, Kisara!” He was about to say it was dangerous, but since Kisara didn’t show any sign of stopping, he scratched his head and, left with no other choice, followed behind her.
She went all the way to the base of the Monolith and stretched out a hand to touch the Monolith through the clamp on its side. “Satomi, try this.”
Rentaro couldn’t tell what Kisara was trying to say but went to stand by her dubiously, attempting a light touch of the Monolith. He’d felt a Monolith many times in the past; he remembered them being smooth and cold. However, the sensation Rentaro felt on the palm of his hand was completely different from what he had remembered from the past. This was dry and crumbling; it felt like crushing dried leaves. He thought it was some kind of mistake and reached his hand up to run it down the side. When he did, the pieces that came off the surface fell into a pile at his feet.
He didn’t speak.
“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” said Kisara. “It’s still okay because the corrosion hasn’t reached the inside yet, but…to think that corrosion fluid can do this to Varanium…”
“The Monolith…will really collapse, huh?” Rentaro tilted his head and looked up at the tip of the Monolith that thrust into the sky, lost in his complicated feelings.
In the past, science fiction author Arthur C. Clarke defined the stone monoliths that appeared in his story as objects installed by God to stimulate mankind’s evolution. If that were the case, had mankind been able to learn anything important from the Gastrea War and evolve to a higher dimension? Thinking about it that way, was the destruction that spread out before him related to the death of God?
He shook his head. Stop, you’re just avoiding the issue. The only thing he could say was that the Monolith was definitely going to collapse. And he needed to hold back the death that would result from that in order to connect to the future of the world.
Kisara stepped back as she looked up at the Monolith. “Hey, Satomi, do you know how Monoliths are made?”
“Now that you mention it…I’ve never seen it in person. Since we say that Monoliths are assembled, I’d say the parts are all brought to the location and—”
Kisara looked at Rentaro with an expression that seemed to express her disgust. “Idiot. With an answer like that, I can’t even give you partial credit. The answer is, well, it would be easier if you imagined how ancient pyramids were built.”
“Pyramids?”
“Pyramids were built by taking cut stone blocks and using special tools to stack them on top of each other, right? Monoliths are also made from masses of blocks. Those are flown in with transport aircrafts or helicopters and stacked onto each other at the site. Of course, if they were just stacked, they’d quickly be blown over by the wind, so they’re stuck together by adhesive stronger than the stuff used in military aircraft and spaceships.”
“Then this is made of piles of blocks? I can’t see where they’re joined, though.”
“That’s because the precision of Japan’s Monoliths is considered top class even among the rest of the world.” Kisara boldly stuck a finger in the air. “It starts with a hundred meters.” She slid the finger she lifted and pointed at the Monolith. “When this Monolith 32 collapses, the initial construction will stack blocks up to a hundred meters high. With that, normal Gastrea won’t be able to come in anymore. After tha
t, they’ll continue building for about a month until it reaches its final height of 1.6 kilometers. Satomi, you might not remember this, but after the War, the Monoliths didn’t start out this tall.”
Rentaro shook his head silently. He did remember. The Monoliths after the Great War were a lot shorter. The endless fear of the Gastrea made humans create gigantic walls that were 1.9 kilometers high. “How long will it take to build it up to a hundred meters?” he asked.
“If the materials and transport vehicles are all here, then it would take about half a day.”
“That fast?”
“Well, yeah. It’s not an individual or a company, but the Tokyo Area government that’s hiring all the general contractors to build this. Of the ten days it all takes, most of the time is spent making the Varanium the right shape. Well, in the end, even if it’s restored to 1.6 kilometers, that still doesn’t prevent the flying Gastrea from wandering in from a high altitude, though—”
“That’s not all, is it? There will still be those Gastrea who run away from freak shows, research institutions, and collectors with unusual tastes, and those who run into the area protected by Monoliths with infected body fluids, and…”
“Initiators whose corrosion rates went above fifty percent.”
“Wait a minute, Kisara. Don’t you think this is weird? In the first place, why is the government trying to rebuild a Monolith here? Even if they desperately built a Monolith, if Aldebaran came to inject Varanium corrosion fluid again, it’d be all over, right?” He paused. “Wait, that’s not it.” Rentaro tried to put into words the doubts that were lurking in his mind. “Why hasn’t Aldebaran attacked any other Monoliths? Rather than attacking one place, wouldn’t it be more efficient to attack a number of different places at the same time to create a hole?”
“That’s it. That’s the problem.” Kisara thrust her index finger at him. “Somehow, after observing for the past few days, the government has come to the conclusion that Aldebaran can’t attack other Monoliths. And in reality, Aldebaran hasn’t interfered with any other Monoliths.”
“Is there a reason for that?”
“The government looks like they have some theories, but in truth, they don’t actually know. Hey, Satomi, since the two of us are here together, do you want to try reasoning it out?”
Rentaro nodded silently. Ever since Rentaro heard the explanation of the contents of the job directly from the Seitenshi herself, he had doubts about the indifference toward other Monoliths held by Aldebaran, which was no more than a Stage Four Gastrea. It was reassuring to be thinking about this with Kisara, whose knowledge and insight surpassed his.
Kisara held up three fingers to show him. “I have three hypotheses. The first is, when Aldebaran attacked Monolith 32, it used up all its strength and then needed to rest for a long time.”
Rentaro put his hand on his chin. That was possible. If Aldebaran was a normal Gastrea, then just coming near Varanium electromagnetic waves would be enough to make it waste away. However—“It’s already been four days since that first incident, right? Wouldn’t it have recovered by now?”
“No, there are individual differences, so we can’t necessarily rule that out. My second hypothesis is that because of where it’s situated, the Monolith’s effects are lessened.”
Rentaro looked around them, but there were just plains as far as the eye could see. “Is there any difference between this place and the adjoining Monoliths 31 and 33?”
Kisara raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. “You could say they’re exactly the same.”
“Is it possible that there’s something buried under ground?”
Kisara shook her head. “Before the Monoliths are built, they do a simple soil test, so it’s hard to believe.”
“Then that’s not it.”
“Right, so the third hypothesis is, Aldebaran is not very smart, so it did not think of attacking multiple Monoliths at the same time.”
“That’s not it.” Rentaro could deny that promptly; it was the least likely. “That guy even used the loyal ant Gastrea to stall for time in order to attack this place. Aldebaran is smart, provokingly so.”
“That’s true.” Even though she had come up with this explanation, she did not seem to put much faith in it and withdrew it easily, folding her arms again.
“But thanks to you, I’ve been able to organize my thoughts,” said Rentaro. “I have one more conjecture.” Rentaro looked up at the top of the Monolith that was being cruelly bleached. “What if there was some sort of problem with this Monolith in particular?”
Kisara gasped and put a hand to her mouth. “But that’s…”
“But if that’s the case, that would give a reason for why this Monolith was targeted and the others were not.”
Kisara put a hand to her chin. “That’s true… You’re right… I didn’t think of that.” Kisara looked straight at Rentaro. “I’ll try looking into this Monolith a little more.”
“Please do.”
To discuss this further without waiting for the results of her research would just be piling inference on top of inference, so it was not constructive. His wise childhood friend also seemed to realize this, and she stopped the conversation with a “Yeah,” and gave a big stretch. She went to the sloped meadow and lay down facing the sky, patting the grass with her hand as she looked at him. “Satomi, why don’t you come lay down next to me?”
Suddenly, his heart gave a big leap.
“R-right.” Rentaro told himself to keep Kisara from suspecting that his heart was pounding inside and moved awkwardly to lie down next to her. There was a rustling sound, and the smell of warm earth reached his nostrils. Looking quietly next to him, he saw Kisara’s white arm stretched out on the grass, her pretty thigh and the line of her body, and the bulge of her chest pushing up the fabric of her clothes.
“Hey, Satomi, look at the sky! Look!”
Rentaro had only been looking at Kisara, so he didn’t look at the sky until she told him to, but when he did, he let out an involuntary exclamation of wonder. In the clear summer night sky with no moon, the Milky Way twinkled. There were so many stars that it was hard to find the Big Dipper. “Wow…” he breathed. “Amazing. That’s all I can say.”
“We live in the middle of all the lights in Tokyo Area. Because of them, the light of the stars is drowned out. Even though they’re actually this beautiful.”
Stealing another glance at Kisara’s profile, he saw that she had her mouth open slightly, her eyes fixed on the stars with a childlike expression on her face. You’re even more beautiful, you know. If he could speak the words that welled from his chest, it would be so much easier to figure out his relationship with her.
Employee and boss, childhood friends, foster brother and younger sister born only a few months apart, student of the Tendo Style and senior disciple. Adjuvant leader and member. There were a lot of words that could be used to describe them, but none of them hit the mark.
For some reason, her left hand stretched out on the grass seemed far away. If he could just muster the courage, it would have been possible for him to gently cover it with his palm. Rentaro shook his head softly. “Kisara, do you know what light pollution is?”
“Light pollution?”
“Yeah, pollution caused by light.” Still lying down, Rentaro wrote the words out in the air for her. “Just as you say, the lights from the city are man-made, so they’re not good for natural organisms. It can be so bright that it can even be seen from man-made satellites.”
“Really?”
“Birds will fly in circles around the searchlight of a lighthouse until they finally fall from exhaustion. Bats and mice have also become easier to see by their predators because of the light, so they’ve become more cautious. Migratory birds think that the day is longer and eat for longer, making them too fat. Just-hatched baby sea turtles look for the ocean based on the reflection of light, so some get confused and end up going not to the ocean but to a hill. And fireflies who look for th
eir mates using light can’t find their lovers because of the artificial lights leaking out.”
Glancing next to him, he saw that Kisara was looking at him with a faint smile. “Am I boring you?” he asked.
“No, not at all,” she said. “I think it’s wonderful.”
Rentaro paused for a moment. “Hey, Kisara, why did you ask me to come to a place like this with you? You should be able to tell me now, right?”
Kisara gazed at the stars in silence.
Rentaro looked at her profile and asked as quietly as he could. “Are you scared? Of the Monolith collapsing?”
She shook her head quietly. “Saying something like this might be inconsiderate, but right now, I’m so happy it’s scaring me.”
“Happy?”
“Yeah, I’m really happy right now. Even though we keep hearing about the Monolith collapsing, it still hasn’t sunk in yet.”
“I…get that.”
“And at the Tendo Civil Security Agency, we have Enju, and Tina, and you. We’re like a family. We aren’t making money at all, as usual, but we have enough to survive.”
“Tina said she was happy right now, too, you know. I’m sure Enju is, too.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“I am too, of course.”
Kisara closed her eyes quietly. “Recently, I’ve been having this dream.”
“A dream?”
“Yeah. When I come to, I’m on a bridge surrounded by the morning mist as far as the eye can see. I don’t know how I got there or why I’m there, but I just know that I have to move forward. So I move forward in one direction on the bridge, but there’s no one there. Eventually, the bridge ends abruptly and my body is swallowed up by this black swamplike thing. I just watch it silently until finally even my head goes under, but eventually, I figure out how to breathe and eventually feel better.”
Rentaro didn’t say anything.
“When I wake up in the morning and look in the mirror, I realize that my face is streaked with tears, and after that, I kept seeing the same dream over and over, so I started to think about it. And then I realized.”
The Destruction of the World by Fire Page 15
