Speaking of Myusel, she was in the kitchen getting dinner ready, so she wasn’t present; Brooke was out taking care of the grounds as usual.
“When you say spy,” I said, swallowing heavily, “you mean like 007, or The Man from U.N.C.L.E., or ‘Good morning, Mr. Phelps’? That sort of thing?”
“For a guy in his teens, you sure make some obscure references.”
On that note, the TV show Mission: Impossible was broadcast in the 1960s, long before Minori-san and I were born. But that’s what reruns are for—I saw them on cable—and there was that big-screen reboot they did a few years ago.
“Yeah, I guess those shows aren’t very popular anymore,” I said.
“Well, this is no television show,” Minori-san said with a wistful smile. “The Eldant Empire isn’t the only country in this world, and espionage is alive and well.”
“Now that you mention it, I heard something about border skirmishes, too.” Having said that, I never quite got the sense of urgency that you might expect of a nation at war. Maybe what happened in the borderlands just didn’t translate to the way things felt in the capital.
“The Eldant Empire has a lot of citizens, and so many of them are of different races that getting a spy into the country isn’t that difficult.”
The place wasn’t surrounded by oceans like Japan was, either. If they really wanted to, it wouldn’t be so hard for someone from another country to cross the mountains and sneak in, or maybe even dig a tunnel over here. Unlike a certain Earth nation, it probably wasn’t possible for the Eldant Empire to build a wall all the way along its border, with watchtowers and everything.
“But why spy here?” Why would a spook sketch our mansion?
“Think about it. If something unusual was happening near the enemy capital, with a bunch of people you’d never seen before, and a group that appeared to be military was setting up buildings—wouldn’t you be curious?”
“I get it.” That made sense. I suspected no one thought that this “enemy country” was just setting up a center for otaku learning. If we weren’t careful, they might mistake it for a military facility of some sort. And it was, after all, members of the Eldant military and the JSDF who had put the buildings up. It was an understandable misunderstanding.
But even so...
“You really think she’s a spy?” I looked at Elvia again. Perhaps having realized that we weren’t immediately going to kill or torture her, she seemed to have relaxed somewhat. In fact, even when she had been captured and bound, she hadn’t seemed too intimidated—almost as if she had expected that it might happen, had been mentally prepared for it. That lent some credence to Minori-san’s hypothesis that she was a spy.
Yet when I looked at that open face, it just didn’t say spy to me. I would have thought a spy would kind of... give me the heebie-jeebies or something.
“And... what exactly do we plan to do with this person?” I asked.
Minori-san’s response was firm and immediate. “When you capture a spy, you interrogate them and then kill them.”
“Say what?!” I could hardly speak. I mean, I knew she was right, but...
“Eldant laws dictate what happens here.”
“Sure, I mean, yeah, but...”
No matter how many times I looked at her, Elvia just seemed too... easygoing. She didn’t look wild or crazy enough to be a spy. She looked less like someone on the front lines of information warfare and more like... I dunno. Some kind of subcontractor just doing her job, with no idea what was really going on.
“...she just doesn’t strike me as a spy,” I concluded. I looked at Elvia; she looked back with that open, frank expression. It made me think back to the mutt we had kept at home when I was a kid. It was the tail that caused me to make the connection—that, and the slightly vacant expression.
To my surprise, Minori-san nodded and said, “That’s true enough. It’s just possible that she doesn’t actually realize that what she’s doing is spying.”
“Uh, really?”
“Granted, I was using a robot observation system, but it was awfully easy to find her, and she seems a little... out of it. She doesn’t seem very intimidating, does she?”
Well, that’s what I’d been trying to say. And those qualities would get a spy captured right away, wouldn’t they?
“I think she may be just one of many, being treated like disposable goods.”
“Yikes,” I groaned. I guess numbers tell eventually... Could an enemy state have employed bunches of spies, knowing that some of them would be captured and killed? It would certainly mean they didn’t have to do too much training of their personnel, and in a medieval world where life was cheap, a strategy like that could have a certain twisted effectiveness. But it was also a deeply disturbing idea. Especially if the spies didn’t know they were being used.
I looked at Elvia sympathetically, causing her to respond with an expectant Yes, what?! expression. She was too big to pass for a pet, but the way she behaved and her overall warmth made her seem awfully friendly. It was impossible to dislike her. She wasn’t exactly beautiful, but she had a sweetness, like the dog you can’t stand but love at the same time.
And they were going to interrogate and then kill her like some bad over-18 rape doujinshi? You know, “They ABC her and then they force her to 1-2-3, and then they X her Y and Z using a you-know-what...!!” (Redacted in compliance with the Tokyo Municipal Government’s Statute for the Healthy Raising of Boys and Young Men.)
With these thoughts running through my head, I soon found myself in danger of panting out loud. But this wasn’t some work of fiction we were dealing with—this was actually going to happen to her! This wasn’t just a story that would go away when you shut the book.
“She wasn’t trying to steal military secrets or anything. Don’t you think there’s a chance of, you know... clemency?”
“Just a second,” Minori-san said with a sad smile. “Shinichi-kun. Do you... feel sorry for her?”
“I mean, kind of... I... I know I’m being naïve.” When I heard Minori-san talk about interrogation and execution, though, I just wanted to help the kid. Maybe I would have felt different if she had been an obvious enemy coming at us in a frontal attack, but I just didn’t feel like I had been wronged by this girl.
“Now I get it...” Minori-san nodded. “You’re all moe for animal ears, aren’t you, Shinichi-kun?”
“Wha?! I—I am not! But yes, they’re nice!”
“Which is it?” she asked, smirking.
“No, listen! I’m not trying to cover for her because of her animal ears! I’m doing it because she’s another person. But that doesn’t change the fact that animal ears and tails are nice!”
I struggled to explain. Truth be told, I had been itching to touch Elvia’s ears and tail for a while now. These weren’t clip-on accessories like for a costume; these were real, living, moving, body-heat-carrying, beast-girl animal ears and tail! I had taken another step closer to the ancient dream of all mankind! Ahh, I just want to give her a big hug and feel how fluffy she is!
“Shinichi-kun. You’re drooling.”
“Oops...” I quickly wiped my mouth.
When I looked over at Elvia, she was shrinking down into her chair. She must have sensed some kind of danger, even though she couldn’t understand what we were saying. No, Elvia! I’m not like that! Please don’t look at me with those frightened eyes!
“But anyway,” Minori-san said, crossing her arms, “we’re not in a position to object to whatever the Eldant Empire wants to do.”
“If we don’t say anything... I don’t suppose they wouldn’t find out?”
“Shinichi-kun,” Minori-san said with a hint of exasperation. “Have you not realized that we’re being watched?”
“............Huh?” I stared at her, wide-eyed. Watched? “You mean... by the Eldant Empire?”
“Yes. I suspect that knight, Garius, is behind it. Don’t look out the window,” she said, holding her phone out to me.
The screen displayed a photograph. It definitely looked like it had been taken on the sly. It depicted something like a bird sitting in the branches of a tree. I say “something like” because although it looked sort of like an owl, it had only one eye, smack in the middle of its body. It seemed more like a gremlin than a bird.
“There are several trees around the house that always have these same birds in the same places,” Minori-san said. “At first I thought maybe there was a nest nearby and this was just normal behavior, but they never move from those spots, and they’re always looking in the same direction. Weird, isn’t it?”
“That’s... yep. Weird is the word I would use.”
How did she ever notice them, anyway? I was confident that I would never have picked up on them. As, in fact, I hadn’t.
“We don’t know what exactly the magic in this world is capable of, but these things are probably keeping an eye on us on behalf of the Eldant Empire. I guarantee they know about Elvia already.”
I didn’t say anything. So we really wouldn’t be able to hide her.
“Of course, there’s a chance that you might be able to intercede with the empress or Garius on her behalf...”
“Me?”
“Don’t you realize?” Minori-san was still wearing that same smirk.
Realize what?
True, I was the general manager of Amutech. But that didn’t make me any better positioned to contradict the Eldant government or army. If I was going to debate with them about something, I would have to have some pretty convincing arguments on my side.
Hmm...
If Elvia really was a spy, was there some way we could get away with not killing her?
“Hold on...”
I knew what to do in this situation. The quickest way for me to come up with a solution would be to think back to my manga and anime and games and light novels. I had learned a lot of things—in fact, most of my important life lessons—from them. They were manuals for living, practically textbooks. If there was a way to save Elvia, maybe I had seen or read it somewhere.
I drew on the vast and otherwise useless knowledge I’d accumulated during my stint as a home security guard.
Spies. Espionage. Secret intelligence agencies!
Spies were always connected to betrayal and plotting...
“Oh! I’ve got it.”
I gave a satisfied nod.
The next day, we appeared at Eldant Castle with Elvia in tow. Minori-san was convinced that staying quiet about her would cause needless misunderstandings on the part of the Holy Eldant Empire. No matter how much Petralka might like me, there would surely be some disgruntled courtier who would find this a convenient excuse to kick us—and maybe everyone Japanese—out of the Eldant Empire.
“So you’ve come, Shinichi-kun.”
I had turned Elvia over to the knights for the time being and was walking down a hallway through the castle when I found a middle-aged man standing in my path. What set me on my heels when I saw him wasn’t the fact that, in the middle of a giant castle that couldn’t have looked more medieval, he was wearing a salaryman-style suit. It wasn’t the salaryman-style part in his salaryman-style salt-and-pepper hair. It was the way his bureaucratic exterior brought back memories of my daily life in Japan, a life I’d left behind the moment I arrived in this world.
His name was Matoba Jinzaburou. At first glance, he looked like just a midlife worker drone stuck in a dead-end job. But in fact, he was head of the Far East Culture Exchange Promotion Bureau; i.e., the organization responsible for all exchange with other worlds, including the Holy Eldant Empire. We were technically in different organizations, but he was basically my superior.
From my perspective, he was also my touchpoint with the Japanese government. Matoba-san actually lived in the same house as I did, but unlike Minori-san, he frequently traveled back and forth between Japan and the Eldant Empire, and we only rarely saw him around the mansion. It had been at least ten days since I’d seen him last. It wasn’t his fault, though—he was the guy responsible for handling all the red tape.
“I hear you apprehended a foreign spy,” he said.
“Uh, well, it was really Minori-san who did the apprehending,” I said, indicating the WAC beside me.
The perfectly honest truth was, Matoba Jinzaburou rubbed me the wrong way. In spite of his totally average exterior, I found him weirdly difficult to get my head around. Plus, the reason I was general manager of Amutech here in the Eldant Empire was because this man had tricked me.
“Hm. Well, I’m glad you didn’t attempt to shelter her out of some misguided sense of compassion. That was quite wise of you.”
Yikes! Was I that easy to read?
On the other hand, I had expected that he might say something like that.
“The Empire is rather on edge after those... unfortunate events.”
“I’m aware of that.” I gave Matoba-san a slight bow and walked by him. Frankly, I didn’t feel much like talking to him right then.
Ever since the incident with the “patriots,” I had found it harder and harder to trust the guy. Or, for that matter, the Japanese government. I couldn’t shake the sense that behind their innocent veneer, they were willing to do whatever it took to achieve their goals, and the thought scared me.
“Her Majesty is waiting,” I said by way of excuse as I slipped by.
“Indeed. Enjoy your visit.” Matoba-san didn’t seem bothered at all, but only watched us go.
We were in the same audience chamber as the day before. Not the big one that was used when all the ministers and everyone were in attendance—the smaller one that was just for when a few close associates were meeting with the empress. There was one minister, however, someone who hadn’t been present the previous day. The prime minister, specifically. Zahar. He stood next to Garius, who stood next to Petralka’s throne.
Prime Minister Zahar was a thin old man, sort of the stereotypical prime-minister type. He had obviously led a full life, and was now using his experience to advise the important people of his realm. He was soft-spoken and often smiled, and despite his age, he didn’t give much sense of being withered or weak.
Prime Minister Zahar was Petralka’s main advisor when it came to politics and economics. Garius, meanwhile, helped her with military matters. Or anyway, that was the impression I had gotten from watching them over the past several months. In other words, at that moment, I was looking at the beating heart of the empire.
And...
“Court Artist?”
...all three of them, the most important people in the Eldant Empire, were, at the moment, collectively looking at me as if I had lost my mind.
“What exactly are you talking about?” Garius asked in exasperation. Petralka and Zahar didn’t say anything, but from their expressions it looked like they were thinking the same thing.
Well, I couldn’t blame them. Here in the Eldant Empire, when you found a spy from an enemy country snooping around, standard operating procedure was to torture and then execute them. Minori-san had explained to me that this was partly about sending a message to any other spies who might be thinking about sneaking in... but, she’d added, it wasn’t without a certain emotional motivation, either.
“There’s a good chance that the werewolf in question is a spy from the kingdom of Bahairam,” Garius said. He went on soberly, “We have no firm proof, but circumstantial evidence makes it extremely likely.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” I said. I knew innocent until proven guilty wasn’t really the way things worked around here, but still... “You might be right, but what about the off chance that...”
“That what?”
“That she isn’t... guilty...”
“One is guilty until proven innocent. That is what allows the state to endure,” Garius said curtly.
I thought that might be the case. My shoulders mentally slumped. The Eldant Empire wasn’t exactly up on the latest thinking about human rights. I could talk about false charges until I was blue
in the face and it probably wouldn’t mean anything to them.
That meant my only chance was to try a different approach. Petralka and Garius would both listen to reason if they knew there was some benefit to it.
“In any event,” Garius said, “I don’t think the disposal of a spy falls within your stated responsibilities.”
“Maybe not,” I said as nonchalantly as I could. I had the distinct sense that if I gave any hint that I sympathized with Elvia, it would only cause them to doubt my motives and refuse to listen. “But if she really is a spy, I think it would be more advantageous to the Eldant Empire to let her live—and give her to me.”
“Come again?” the knight asked, with an expression that clearly said he doubted my sanity.
“This used to happen all the time in my country—as you can tell from how often it shows up in manga and anime and stuff. If you kill her, there’ll just be another spy later, right?”
“Obviously. All the more reason to arrest and execute them when they—”
“But you won’t find that next spy right away, will you? They aren’t going to be all, ‘I’m a spy!’ at the border crossing.”
Garius narrowed his eyes. “One imagines not. And...?”
He was starting to look almost interested. Not interested in me! No. Just in what I had to say. This was definitely not a flag tripping.
“Well, what if you let her live, let her make her reports like usual? To this kingdom of Bahairam or wherever. But she only tells them the things we tell her to say. It doesn’t have to be the truth. It could be the opposite of the truth, if you want.”
“Hrm. What is this you’re proposing?” Petralka was looking at me dubiously, but as I had hoped, Zahar and Garius seemed to have grasped what I was trying to say. I saw comprehension and surprise slowly dawning on their faces.
Outbreak Company: Volume 2 Page 5
