Chapter 3: Wild Blue Yonder

Chapter 3: Wild Blue Yonder

CHAPTER 3

WILD BLUE YONDER

Two hundred kilometers from the Republic’s eastern front’s first ward was the Federacy’s capital, Sankt Jeder, painted white with the freshly fallen winter snow. Shin stopped at the edge of the main street leading to the City Hall Square and looked up at the clock tower, which was hazy from the powdery snow. The snow was shoveled off the city’s flagstones in the mornings, and a large fir tree was set in the center of the market square, serving as a decoration for the Holy Birthday.

Shin had never experienced snow like this before. Was it truly the same snow that had fallen on their corpses in some unknown corner of the battlefield, eventually melting away with the coming of spring? It felt odd, seeing it without the sounds of war in his ears, on a peaceful street corner, surrounded by people coming and going.

His breath came out in puffs of white steam, just as it had on that cold day in the ruins of a church plaza. The coat he had received as a gift was warm. Unlike the clothes he’d worn that day.

Shaking his head once, Shin continued his stride through the snowy street.

When he entered the old Imperial Capital Library in City Hall Square, Shin brushed the snow from his shoulders and took off his coat. This place was always heated. It had been a month since he’d begun frequenting the place, and as he walked in, he exchanged greetings with the librarians who he had come to recognize, before going to browse through the bookshelves.

The Imperial Capital Library was built as a five-story-tall atrium surrounded by annexes, and the dome covering it had a beautiful mother-of-pearl inlay, no doubt painstakingly crafted, in the shape of the summer constellations.

Shin, who was currently living a life with no perception of the date, didn’t realize it was a weekday afternoon, which was why the place was fairly empty, giving it a peculiar, tranquil atmosphere.

“…Ah.”

He suddenly stopped in front of a bookshelf he rarely examined. The children’s bookshelf. He paused because one of the books on the lower shelves had a familiar illustration. He took the old picture book, which he couldn’t fully remember. What caught his eye was the cover.

A headless, skeletal knight, brandishing a longsword.

That’s Brother’s—

Flipping through the book, he realized he had no memory of the story, either. He felt as if he somehow knew it, but the synopsis was so common he thought he might have imagined it. A hero of justice who would defeat the wicked and defend the innocent. But as he read through the book’s simple composition, he could hear his brother’s voice overlapping the words.

He could almost see those two big hands flipping through the pages. His voice would gradually become lower and thicker. And every night, Shin would pester him, trying to get him to read it aloud to him again.

His brother, who was now gone forever.

—I’m sorry.

Rei’s true final words came back to life, and Shin could once again see his retreating back, his visage the same as it was when he was still alive.

Hearing the sound of soft footsteps near him, Shin jerked up, looking at the presence that stood next to him. It was a girl, roughly five or six years old. She wore a wool hat and earmuffs, and her silvery eyes were wide open. Realizing her eyes were locked on the picture book, he closed it and presented it to her with one hand. Perhaps being shy, the girl took it after a long moment of hesitation, then turned around and ran off somewhere.

But the next moment, she came back, accompanied by a boy Shin’s age. He had silvery hair and a pair of silver eyes hidden behind his glasses. Seeing that, Shin’s expression hardened for a moment.

An Alba. A Celena.

He knew this wasn’t the eighty-five Sectors, and the person before him wasn’t a citizen of the Republic. He knew this, and yet.

“Allow me to apologize. My little sister was being rude.”

“…Oh. That’s fine—I wasn’t reading it.”

The boy’s expression turned severe at Shin’s words.

“No, it’s not fine. When someone does something for you or gives you something, you should say thank you. That’s something kids should learn from a young age.”

The boy pushed his sister’s back, encouraging her. She mumbled something in a near inaudible tone and ran off again.

“Hey, wait…! Geez.”

The boy then fell silent after receiving a nasty glare from one of the librarians. The sight of a black-haired, green-eyed woman rebuking an Alba boy was one Shin couldn’t help but find peculiar. He really was in an entirely different world, after all.

After a sigh, the boy lowered his head in apology.

“Thanks. Sorry. You shouldn’t have to see me disciplining her.”

He spoke with the same integrity he tried to teach his sister. Shin felt somewhat amused by looking at him. His simple honesty, coupled with his silver hair and eyes, reminded him of his last Handler, even though he’d never seen her face.

“It’s all right. Being a big brother seems hard.”

“I don’t know who she takes after, but she’s terribly shy around strangers.”

The boy then tilted his head and slumped his shoulders.

“Hmm, this might be rude to ask, but I always see you here at this hour. Don’t you go to school?”

On paper, education up to sixth grade in the Federacy was compulsory. Any following education was optional and no longer free. However, this was just on paper, since this system had been established only nine years ago, with the rise of the Federacy. It was upheld in the capital and nearby cities, but other territories still didn’t have enough teachers or school facilities constructed.

And of course, Shin, who wasn’t a born citizen of the Federacy but an Eighty-Six who grew up in the internment camps and came under the Federacy’s protection only two months ago, didn’t attend school, either. Though Ernst had told them to consider it once spring came around and they’d had some time to adjust.

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“If you see me so often here during school hours, that means you frequent the library as much as I do.”

The boy gave a bitter, shameful smile.

“Ah, yeah. I don’t go to school. Or more like, can’t go to school. Former nobles have…all sorts of things to be ashamed of.”

After the revolution, the former nobles’ statuses were effectively divided into two. The higher nobles, who were involved in enterprises that served as the lifeblood of the nation, like large-scale agriculture and heavy industry, retained their positions as managers even after relinquishing their social status and tax privileges. That was because the Federacy couldn’t afford to cripple the industries that were directly connected to the nation’s war potential. It was still at war with the Legion and could not afford to lose even an ounce of martial strength.

Likewise, many of the nobles’ children, who couldn’t inherit their families’ headships and served as officers in the Imperial army, retained their positions in the Federacy’s military. But on the other hand, all the other nobles were reduced to normal civilians. They never knew manual labor and had trouble even finding employment to begin with, as they were loathed by the middle class. The lower nobles, who didn’t even have enough assets to keep themselves fed, were poorer than even the common laborers by now.

“I thought we might be in the same position… Sorry, it really was rude of me to assume.”

Shin shook his head as the boy furrowed his brow.

“I don’t mind. I’m not a native.”

Shin, of course, meant he wasn’t a native of the Federacy, but he’d learned from several conversations already that for citizens of Sankt Jeder, there was nuance to that word that meant one was or wasn’t a native of the old Imperial Capital region. Explaining that he was an Eighty-Six was bothersome, and if he said he wasn’t a native, people would simply take it that he wasn’t from this region but from the territories—and not pry any deeper.

Each of the different territories formerly under the control of the Empire had its own cultures, customs, and value systems. At times, even their language was different from the old Imperial Capital region. As Shin implicitly expressed that there wasn’t much to worry about, the boy seemed relieved, and at the same time, his eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Wow, you have Onyx and Pyrope blood, and you’re not from the capital? That’s unusual… Oh, there I go again. That was rude. Sorry.”

The boy cracked an awkward smile as he scratched the back of his head. His silvery eyes laughed behind his glasses.

“I’m Eugene Rantz. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“—That concludes it, though. In the month since we took them in, they seem to have acclimated to life here fairly well.”

Ernst had told the children placed under his protection “Take your time to see what this country has to offer and consider your futures after that” and allowed them to go about the city freely, but he couldn’t send them out into the Federacy’s unfamiliar streets unattended.

First, he assigned them guides. And once they got used to the city a little, he had officers close to them in age keep an eye on them from afar, with their reports being summed up to him by his secretary. Hearing her report, Ernst spoke from the mountain of electronic documents, not lifting his eyes from the terminal on his desk.

“I see. He spent yesterday reading every book on the military history shelf. The day before that, he was poring over philosophy books. Three days ago, he took a visit to a military cemetery, and today he was reading children’s picture books. I still have no clue what criteria he’s choosing his interests from, but Shin making a friend is an auspicious event. We should roast red rice tonight!”

“Serving red rice when they have no idea what that means is a bad idea, much less roasting it. For the love of God, don’t.”

“Will you even go back today, to begin with? Young Raiden showed up earlier with a change of clothes for you, delivered with Teresa’s heated complaints. What are you two having these children do?”

His half-Orienta, half-Eisen secretary quipped at him with a disinterested tone, but Ernst ignored her and continued.

“The change of clothes is meaningless. There’s a washing machine here, so I wear the same suit every day. Teresa probably just wanted to send her complaints. I’ll definitely be heading back today, so you can go home, too. It’s the Holy Birthday, after all!”

“My, thank you.”

“I should buy some presents on the way back, too. Do you think the Republic also has the habit of giving gifts on the night of the Holy Birthday?”

“I think they do… But who’s to say if the children actually remember that?”

“They’ll simply have to learn it anew… Now, then. What should I get them…?”

Ernst smiled with genuine excitement, his eyes still not leaving the terminal. It was on short notice, so he probably couldn’t prepare anything too special for them, but still.

It had been a month since they’d come to Sankt Jeder, and each of them had begun finding their way of appreciating the peace. Raiden started a part-time job as a mailman on a motorcycle, Anju began taking cooking classes, Theo was going around the city sketching, Kurena took to enjoying window shopping, and Shin was randomly going between libraries and museums. They had all begun to make friends, too.

Ernst was honestly relieved. Surely they would all abandon the idea of enlisting in the military now. They could finally move past the persecution their homeland inflicted on them… They could put the warrior’s mentality to rest.

They would no longer be Eighty-Six.

“…I should make preparations for the futures they’ll pick come spring.”

From outside the window, the sight of the northern capital’s winter could be seen as it waited for the light of spring to shine down on it.

The snowfall that had started the previous night stopped around noon, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. A vast blue sky hung over the plaza’s white-gray flagstones. Halting his relaxed, leisurely stride, Theo looked up at the great azure expanse above him. The cherry blossom tree at the center of the plaza stood naked and bony, without a single petal, and the clear winter sky could be seen from between its black branches. It was the sight of eternity as it turned into a cracked, shattered form on the verge of collapse.

Theo lowered his gaze, and his eyes settled on a street holo-screen projecting a parliament meeting. On the stage stood Ernst, in his usual mass-produced business suit and glasses. Seeing him make a speech always gave Theo an odd, dissonant feeling. He was a leader of the revolution, and a hero, and had served ten years as the Federacy’s temporary president. But to Theo, he was an odd man who would come back occasionally and pester them about his arbitrary curfew, argue with Frederica about what channel they should watch on the television, and make a fuss over silly disputes.

“Just let the girl have her thirty minutes of cartoons” is what Shin and Raiden would always say when he would switch the channel from Frederica’s magical-girl show or an episode of some sort of superhero-squad series to a news program or a soccer broadcast.

Theo was only half listening to the speech, but they were discussing something about the Federacy’s war situation. An analysis of each front’s state and their policy going forward. Ernst may not have been the one doing the analysis himself, but they did collect the information to do it from each front. It was a far cry from the Republic’s state, where Shin could send the same report for five years without anyone noticing… Except for that last Handler.

Even the news Shin was watching—or at least half listening to, as his nose was in the books, as always—probably broadcasted a more or less accurate and truthful report of the goings-on of the battlefield. The number of casualties that day was broadcasted by the government every night, with even the lowest of privates being mentioned. And the citizens would bemoan the loss of soldiers they’d never known. That was an obvious thing to do in the Federacy, it seemed. And they talked about countries that had been their neighbors until ten years ago, countries Theo had never even heard of.

But even as he thought that the Republic’s white pigs really were insane, there was a part of him that couldn’t sit still. Something told him he couldn’t stay put like this, that he mustn’t dawdle here. A burning impatience gnawed at his heart.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

We are, after all…

Carrying his sketchbook under his armpit, Theo wasn’t surprised to see there weren’t many other artists out here when it was this cold. He walked around the pristine plaza, without a shred of garbage in sight, much less the debris and wreckage he was used to seeing.

Sankt Jeder had also seen its share of combat during the revolution ten years ago. Some of the flagstones were newer than others; some of the girders for the bridges over the river streaming through the city were left charred black; a magnificent, historically important cathedral was missing its belfry—likely blown off by bombing—and was left as is.

Vines crept over the cathedral’s stone walls, reminding Theo of ruins he’d found on the battlefield once, despite being in a populated city. He decided to sketch the place, and the nearby priest gave him a piece of candy for some reason. He then heard a pair of quiet footsteps approach him and turned around to see Anju.

“There you are. You said something about going around the Republic Square today, so I figured…”

“Yeah, I didn’t think there’d be something like this in front of the old Republic embassy, though… What’s up?”

Anju was dressed in an elegant blouse, a light-colored coat, a frilly skirt, and lace-up boots. He still wasn’t used to seeing her in anything but her field uniform. That applied to everyone else, too, and even himself. He was always filled with the odd feeling that this didn’t suit them, that they were out of their skin.

“I want you to help me out a bit. And by that, I mean help me carry grocery bags; I just don’t have enough hands for it.”

“Ah, roger that… Will just the two of us be enough? Want me to call someone else?”

Kurena, who didn’t have much in the way of physical strength, and Frederica, who was a child, weren’t prime candidates when it came to carrying things.

“Raiden’s…at his part-time job. Shin should be free, though.”

That said, they all had plenty of free time on their hands. They were bored, even. As he spoke, Theo reached up to the side of his head, intending to activate his Para-RAID ear cuff.

“Activate.”

But his fingers only floated through the air, instead of pressing on the ear cuff’s hard texture.

“…”

Oh, that’s right , Theo thought, falling silent. Anju suppressed a smile as she held out a cell phone, which prompted Theo to take out his own.

“Well gee, this thing sure is convenient . You gotta make sure to always have it on you—you can’t connect to the other person if they’ve got it turned off—and you gotta manually input phone numbers to register them.”

His expression and examples didn’t match his first sentence in the slightest, which made Anju chuckle.

“Well, RAID Devices still had to be reset whenever we changed Handlers.”

“Yeah, for the white pigs… That was annoying, too. They did whatever the hell they wanted and then complained about stupid shit every time they showed up.”

The Republic had put the RAID Devices on them at its own convenience and had also attached the variable data registration ear cuffs on them in a way that meant they couldn’t remove them on their own. Since they were attached to them crudely and without the use of disinfectant, when the Federacy removed them, it left scars on their bodies. Theo didn’t mind it that much, but seeing how they’d marred Anju’s and Kurena’s beauty left him seething.

True enough, though, the Handlers in charge of them…or rather, of Shin, would end up changing rather frequently, but that wasn’t particularly any fault of theirs. Their last Handler was a weakhearted little princess roughly their age, but that was on her for insisting on suffering through it and not quitting when she could.

“The Federacy sure is weird for wanting those things, though. We’ve been using them forever but still have no idea how they work.”

“That I get. It’s useful on the battlefield. The Eintagsfliege are a problem here, too. But caring about the Juggernaut, now, that’s a good one. What do they think they’ll get out of analyzing that walking coffin?”

When they came under the Federacy’s defense, all the things they had on them were taken away. And for whatever odd reason, the Federacy decided to research the Para-RAID and the Juggernaut, so they were sent to some laboratory. All their other belongings didn’t have much sentimental value, so they let the Federacy dispose of them.

“…Come to think of it, Shin asked to have his handgun back, but the Federacy turned that request down even though civilians can get approved to carry weapons.”

Ernst did have it stored away, however.

“It wasn’t exactly out of sentimental value, though. It was the gun he used to put the dying to rest. Shin wouldn’t allow anyone else to bear that burden.”

He wouldn’t even let Raiden, his vice commander, who’d fought beside him the longest, do it. Theo sighed.

“I guess he wouldn’t, and there’s no way around that… But man, would it kill Shin to live for himself a little more?”

Theo thought their friend, who could hear the voices of wandering ghosts, was far too obsessed with the dead. Or perhaps with death itself. For instance, his fixation on the duty of putting the mortally wounded out of their misery. Or with his countless comrades, whom he swore to take with him to the very end. All those who fought and died beside him all the way from his first unit to the Spearhead squadron. And all those who were assimilated by the Legion and had their last regrets echoed by the Black Sheep. And most of all, his brother’s now-avenged…but long-dead missing head.

Anju’s blue eyes stared at the ground, as if she were in deep thought.

“Maybe there were some things he could only do because of that obsession, though.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Fixating yourself on a goal can also mean that there’s something to keep you grounded . Maybe having the goal of taking out his brother is what kept Shin with us.”

What if he’d been grounded by the countless whispers of the dead haunting the scar on his neck…or ironically enough, by the voice of the brother who’d inflicted that scar on him?

“We, the Eighty-Six, were meant to die on that battlefield, so we can’t help but feel this way. And Shin especially had a part of him that thought of nothing but his brother. And now that he doesn’t have that anymore… I’m a little worried.”

“…”

That theory didn’t quite hit home for Theo, but Anju was always one to observe those around her carefully. Her theory may very well have been true.

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“We should have died back there on the battlefield, but we’re still alive. Have you…decided on your future, like he said?”

Anju’s lips, the color of spring flowers, broke into a bitter smile. A stray thought lingering in the back of Theo’s mind floated to the forefront. Ah, she’s started wearing makeup.

“You’re seriously asking me that? It should be obvious by now.”

Theo’s lips parted slightly.

It should be obvious by now…

“Right.”

“I thought a lot about what things would be like if Daiya was still with us, or if we had a little more time to consider our options. But then I realized it wouldn’t make much of a difference. If it’s a question of what we should do versus what we want to do, I think we—”

“Yeah.”

Theo nodded, as if already knowing what she would say.

“I feel the same way. Heck, I think the rest of us do, too. It’s all we know, after all.”

It’s all we know…

As they realized they were on the same page, a cozy, satisfying silence fell between them for a long moment. Finally, Anju clapped her hands together.

“But putting that aside.”

“Oh, right. The bags.”

He’d forgotten. He brought up Shin’s number on his cell phone and selected AUDIO CALL . An antiquated dial tone repeated in his ears… And after it droned on for a fairly, considerably, extremely long time, Theo frowned in annoyance.

“—He’s not answering!”

For a long time, Shin’s dreams were nothing more than cruel reproductions of the night his brother killed him. He couldn’t remember many dreams that didn’t revolve around that. And yet, he knew that this was a dream.

“I know how selfish of a request this is.”

Kaie smiled, standing in a place surrounded by white fog. A female comrade of his from the Spearhead squadron, who’d died on the battlefield of the first ward of the Republic’s eastern front. She had the black hair and eyes distinctive of the Orienta. She was dressed in a desert camouflage field uniform, and her hair was tied in a ponytail.

Her small head, however, wasn’t in its rightful place. It was detached, as if it had been blown away in her final moments; Kaie cradled her head in her arms, her face smiling.

“You reached your final destination. And you brought us all with you. So you should have the right to put us behind you. But…”

There were so many comrades he couldn’t save, so this Kaie probably wasn’t the real Kaie but rather a representation of all of them. Those who’d had their corpses stolen by the Legion or been dragged away while they were still alive and then had their neural networks assimilated. He shuddered to think of his many friends who’d been reduced to the heretical Black Sheep, hiding among the white sheep of the Legion.

“I can understand that, but it still hurts. Lingering like this hurts. I died, so I want to move on, Shin—our Reaper.”

Kaie smiled as she called him by that alias. He had grown rather fond of it. Beneath her military boots were thick grassland too deep to walk in and a set of rails, divided in eight. Behind the silky gauze of the white fog, Shin could see the gray silhouettes of broken Juggernauts as well as a single Scavenger.

They were standing on the Legion-controlled battlefield of two months ago.

“Please save us.”

The Black Sheep, who carried only a degraded copy of the human brain, had no personality of their own. Even the Shepherds didn’t have the cognitive ability of a living human being, and mutual understanding with them was impossible.

So the girl before him wasn’t the real thing, nor was she an amalgamation of his friends… Maybe she was the symbol of his regrets. The things he’d left behind. Because at the time, the most he could do was bury his brother.