2: Deep Sea Party

26 August, 0807 Hours (Greenwich Mean Time)

Sick Bay, Tuatha de Danaan, 200 Meter Depth, West Pacific Ocean

Tessa seemed far more put-together now than when they’d met months before. Her khaki uniform, with knee-length skirt and indigo tie, lent her an air of distinction. The last time Kaname had seen her, Tessa had been in a baggy T-shirt and cargo pants, and it had been hard to buy her as any kind of top-ranked officer.

Wow. She really is military... Kaname felt a strange sense of wonder as she peered closely at the girl.

“Wh-What is it?” Tessa took a half-step back, unsettled by the scrutiny.

“Oh... nothing,” Kaname said. “How have you been?”

“Just fine, thank you,” Tessa replied politely. “Kaname-san... you look rather tired.”

Kaname was on a bed in the sick bay, bundled up in a blanket and sipping hot cocoa. The ship’s doctor had just finished running basic tests on her body temperature, heart rate, and blood pressure; she was a middle-aged black woman named Goldberry who held the military rank of captain. She had rattled off phrases like “you’re looking better already” and “you’ve got quite a constitution,” as she examined her, before giving the diagnosis, “you’re in perfect health.”

Sousuke was standing in front of the sick bay door, chest out in “at ease” posture. Kaname cast a sidelong glance at him as she replied, “I mean, I only got pushed out of a plane, thrown into the ocean, and dragged underwater... you’d have to be an idiot not to find that exhausting. A major idiot...”

A single bead of sweat appeared on Sousuke’s temple as he listened.

“I’m sorry...” Tessa apologized. “We’re not equipped to land conventional aircraft here. It must have been such an ordeal...”

“Hey, it’s okay... I’d been wanting to see you again, too,” Kaname reassured her. “And we’ve got a lot to talk about, right?”

“Yes, of course there’s that. But first... Sergeant Sagara?”

“Yes, Colonel, ma’am?” he answered with ridiculous formality.

“Go to the main hangar,” Tessa ordered. “Find someone there and tell them that we’re heading their way.”

After a long moment of confusion, Sousuke replied, “Yes, ma’am.” He saluted and left the sick bay behind.

Kaname couldn’t quite explain what, but she felt something was off about their exchange. It was entirely businesslike, lacking any sexual tension or double entendre. Earlier, Tessa had told Kaname that she’d fallen for Sousuke; she’d told her, “let’s both do our best.” Of course, the “both” was a huge misunderstanding on Tessa’s part; Kaname didn’t even like Sousuke that way... From her point of view, it was more of an, “Uh, sure, good luck with that” kind of thing. She’d even almost said that... But still, it did concern her.

Ever since that day, any time Sousuke had left Tokyo for Mithril work, Kaname would find herself feeling vaguely uneasy. What were Sousuke and Tessa talking about when she wasn’t around? Were they spending all their time together? Were they sneaking into the sub’s gymnasium storehouse to get all hot and heavy and...

“Kaname-san?” Tessa interrupted.

“Huh?” Kaname snapped out of her daydream.

“Do you think you could get dressed? I was hoping to give you a tour of the boat; there are a few things you’ll need to know.”

“S-Sure. Hang on a minute...” Kaname withdrew into the back of the sick bay and started getting changed. As she took off her swimsuit, she caught a glimpse of herself in the wall mirror. The alluring figure of a naked girl—smooth, dewy skin; long, black hair that tangled, half-dried, around slender shoulders and voluptuous breasts. She hugged herself to cover her chest, turned around and glanced back... Hey, not a bad view, huh? Pretty good, even... She wouldn’t call herself irresistible, exactly, but she’d say she had it where it counted. Easily a match for her, anyway, Kaname assured herself, then immediately felt extremely stupid about it. Privately mortified, she reddened and sped through putting her clothes on. She slid on a rich blue dress, tied her hair with its usual red ribbon, slipped on her sandals and came out.

Doctor Goldberry handed her something. “Keep this on you, if you would.” It was a plastic stick the size of a piece of chewing gum.

“What is this?” Kaname asked.

“It’s a bit like litmus paper; it changes colors in the presence of high concentrations of neutrons.”

“N-Neutrons?”

“If it turns orange, that’s a danger sign,” Doctor Goldberry explained. “You’ll want to get away from the engine room as quickly as possible.”

“And make sure to give it back to me before you disembark,” Tessa came in to explain. “My submarine runs on a P/S-type Palladium Reactor. That device is a safety measure in the event of a disaster, but you shouldn’t need to worry about it.”

Kaname just tilted her head in confusion.

“Now, come with me. We wouldn’t want to get separated,” Tessa said, and then left the sick bay.

The halls of the Tuatha de Danaan were just wide enough to accommodate Kaname and Tessa walking side by side, and the ceiling was very low; they were far more cramped than the corridors at school. Kaname’s first thought about these halls when she’d initially come on board were that they were surprisingly chaotic: the walls and ceiling were crammed with thick pipes and cables; valves, levers, switches and fire hoses... The sturdy, watertight doors they passed at regular intervals were fixed with enormous handles. In other words, it was just like any submarine. This was a bit of a letdown for Kaname, who had been led by the boat’s outer appearance to expect the flat walls and ceilings of a space battleship from a sci-fi anime.

“You think it’s stuffy in here, don’t you?” Tessa said to Kaname, turning back even as she walked. “The corridors are quite wide as submarines go, though. We did it to ensure the safety of the crew when they need to run during an emergency. It means that foolish people are inclined to trip and fall—eek!” She really should have watched where she was going. Tessa banged her shoulder against a protruding pipe; the force caused her to spin before she fell, back-first, onto the floor.

“Hey, you okay?” Kaname asked, with concern.

“I’m... I’m fine. It’s nothing, really...” Tessa said with tears in her eyes, as Kaname helped her up.

“That was a close call... Are you sure you’re the captain of this thing?”

“It hurts to hear you say that, but this boat... it’s like my home,” Tessa explained. “There’s nothing I don’t know about it, outside of things related to my crew’s personal lives. For instance, that pipe I just hit was a number 28 B8 service pipe. During the design phase, I was forced to leave it protruding from the wall, to accommodate the placement of other modules,” she said, deftly switching the subject at hand as she resumed leading her down the hall. They passed through several doors and then descended a staircase.

Kaname’s second main impression of the Tuatha de Danaan was that it was quiet. She was pretty sure that the boat was moving, but there was no sound of machinery, and the floor wasn’t vibrating, either. It was as quiet as a shinkansen car.

“I made it to be that way,” Tessa responded when Kaname asked about it. “Stealth is vital for a submarine, so noise is our greatest enemy. A loud ship can be easily detected, even at distances where it couldn’t be made out with the naked eye, and modern-day warfare frequently begins at such distances. Of course... the spread of ECS means that is becoming less and less true in ground and aerial combat.”

“Ah-hah...” Kaname only understood about half of that, but she decided to nod along anyway. What she couldn’t understand was why she had seen so few of the submarine’s crew so far; the corridors were silent, and there was almost no sign of human life. She’d once caught sight of a scowling young crewman, but he disappeared down the hallway without so much as a nod, as if he was avoiding her.

I don’t think they like having me here, Kaname thought uneasily. She had reason to be here, but she was still just a civilian. It was understandable that they wouldn’t be happy to see an outsider like her on their boat. “How many people are on board?” she asked out loud.

“A little over 240, at the moment,” Tessa answered. “And we can accommodate more as needed.”

“So why haven’t I seen many of them?”

“Well, because...” Standing at a dead end in front of a closed watertight door, Tessa stopped and cleared her throat. “Kaname-san, you speak English, don’t you?”

“Yeah, pretty well,” Kaname answered. She’d lived in New York until three years ago, after all. She was a little rusty, but she could handle day-to-day conversation, at least.

“Let’s switch over to that now,” Tessa suggested.

“Um, sure.”

“All right, then follow me. Kaname-san, I’m not sure if you like this kind of thing, but...” Tessa prefaced, then pushed open the thick door and stepped into the room beyond.

Kaname narrowed her eyes suspiciously but walked through. The stagnant air of the passageway gave way to a gentle breeze; the smell of oil stung her nose, and strong light greeted her eyes. “Ah...”

She was standing in an enormous room, which was lit up as bright as day. The ceiling was a little lower than her school gym, but it was deep. Cranes dangled from the ceiling, large screens lined the upper walls, and fuel tanks for helicopters and AS-sized rocket launchers were secured to metal frameworks. They were in a hangar, and along that hangar’s port side stood about 200 crewmen in three neat lines. They spanned from about where Kaname was standing to the back wall: all different ages and races, dressed in a variety of uniform styles. There were khaki suits like Tessa’s, olive green fatigues, orange and blue work jumpsuits, helicopter pilot uniforms, lab coats, cook’s whites, and so on.

There were also six arm slaves—those eight-meter-tall humanoid weapons—lined up behind them, just as neatly as the people. Their heads were inches from the ceiling. Kaname knew them; five were the model known as the M9, while the furthest one back was the white one Sousuke had piloted before. It wasn’t just ASes, either; she could see helicopters and fighter craft lined up neatly beyond them, as well. The sight of the soldiers and weapons of the de Danaan all assembled in the hangar proved a truly impressive view.

What are they doing? Kaname wondered.

The middle-aged man standing next to them caught Tessa’s gaze and nodded. He was a skinny man with glasses and a dour way about him. But despite his appearance, he managed such volume when he called out that Kaname found herself cringing in shock. “Atten-SHUN!!” All present went from rest to attention—two hundred people and six machines, all moving in unison.

“Huh? Huh?” Should I go to “attention” too? Kaname found herself stepping back, flustered.

The man spoke again. “Chidori Kaname, for repeated displays of exceptional courage, decisiveness, and kindness in the face of dangers to Colonel Testarossa and our squad mates, we extend our most heartfelt gratitude.” The man took a deep breath and cried, “Salute!” At his command, all assembled raised their right hand in a salute in the style of the military of their origin.

All of their eyes were on her. Some were utterly serious, some were smiling, some looked appraising; some even seemed to be holding back tears... At the end of the line, Kaname could see Major Kalinin in his olive fatigues. His injuries seemed to have healed, and he held his large body straight and tall as he saluted Kaname respectfully. The six ASes were also saluting, looking down at her. The earnest arch of the white one’s back suggested to her that the pilot was Sousuke; even reflected by a mechanical marionette, she could still recognize his mannerisms.

The M9 second from the end brushed its robotic temple with two fingers, then waved to her with its right hand; that humanoid weapon was hitting on her, which meant its operator was probably Kurz. That meant the next M9 over, nudging it in its mechanical ribs, must be piloted by Mao.

“I realize it’s a bit much, but...” Tessa said with a smile as Kaname stood there, gaping silently. “When they heard you were coming, they all said they wanted to honor you, somehow.”

“Huh... what? M-Me? Um...” she stuttered. The realization that she was the center of attention sent Kaname into an even worse panic.

The hijacking incident four months ago; the giant AS incident two months ago... Kaname had played an important role in both. She’d been thrown into these situations against her will and thus had simply been doing what was necessary to survive. But the end result was still that she had saved many lives—including those of Sousuke and Tessa. This welcome was the best way for the people of the de Danaan to pay respect to the bravery of this ordinary citizen.

“Um, I... I’m honored. But I... I didn’t do anything all that great...” Kaname mumbled, her ears going red. When Tessa conveyed her sentiments to the group, the soldiers burst out in laughter, applause, and cheers.

“Hey, look! She’s blushing!”

“Oh man, she’s cute!”

“Show some respect, guys...”

“Hey, hey! She’s just like I said, right?”

“Kaname! Can I hook you up with my son?”

“Damn that Sagara, I’m gonna shoot him in the back...”

The crew’s discipline was gone in a flash, replaced by noise and rowdiness. It felt strange to Kaname to have so many complete strangers making such a fuss over her.

“Quiet down, you lot!” the old man giving the orders scolded, a vein rising on his forehead.

Tessa watched with a slightly pained smile. “I’m afraid this version is closer to how they really are... But they really are all grateful to you. I hope you’ll recognize that.”

“B-But... I really didn’t do anything, you know? It’s not like I saved everyone here...” Kaname genuinely didn’t know how to react to this. She hadn’t saved the submarine itself, she’d just helped out a few people present from the sidelines. The “hero’s welcome” felt a little misdirected.

“Untrue, Miss Chidori,” said the gentleman who’d given the orders, turning to face her. “It is not the end result that matters most, but your conduct when danger stares you in the face; the difficulty of the actions you took. We all know that very well.”

“Ah,” Kaname said meekly.

“The things you did wouldn’t be easy even for trained soldiers. You deserve to be proud.” His voice was easy and nonchalant, completely different from when he was giving commands. Kaname remained hesitant to accept the compliment.

“Colonel Mardukas is correct, Kaname-san. Anyway, the ritual is over... We were planning to hold a little party,” Tessa suggested, “if you’d like to join us.”

“A party?” Kaname blushed. “Um, that might be crossing a line, as welcomes go...” Besides, wasn’t this a military vessel? Even a layman like her had to wonder if it was all right for them to drop everything and have a party.

“Don’t worry. It will be a full day before we arrive at our destination,” Tessa said reassuringly. “And the party was planned from the start, for a different reason.”

“Huh,” Kaname said. “What reason is that?”

“Well, the truth is...” Tessa looked up at the hangar’s ceiling with a small, happy smile. “Today is her first birthday.”

26 August, 1335 Hours (Greenwich Mean Time)

Main Hangar, Tuatha de Danaan

It had been a year to the day since the Tuatha de Danaan first left port. The original plan had been to celebrate in grand fashion at Merida Island Base, but the sudden mission order had forced them to shift gears; they would be holding a small on-board party, instead. A corner of the hangar served as an impromptu party venue. Tablecloths were spread over empty ammo cases, and food was brought out from the galley. An M9 decorated with ribbons and tarps sat on one knee, holding out a banner in its hands: “Happy Birthday, Dear Tuatha de Danaan!” The menu was the usual stuff, and there was no alcohol allowed, but it was still more festive than a standard meal in the boring old mess.

The party started in a natural way. Crew came and went from the venue as they went on and off duty, enjoying food and conversation at their leisure. The ground forces were currently unoccupied, so there were relatively more of them present.

After a short but memorable speech from Tessa, Sergeant Kurz Weber played host to a bingo tournament. Kurz was a member of the ground forces’ elite special response team; a blond-haired, blue-eyed, attractive young man, he seemed like the kind of person who was always up for a party. “Okay, let’s get this rolling,” Kurz said to the crowd, holding a magic marker like a microphone. “We’ve got three prizes today. Third prize: the tip of the radar mast that broke off the first time the Tuatha de Danaan left port. It was our first accident; an event worthy of commemoration. It bears the signature of both the captain and the supervising officer, and makes a fine souvenir to decorate your cabin.”

The crowd booed. “We don’t want that hunk of junk!”

Kurz ignored their complaints, and continued. “Next! In the Merida Island Base officers’ residences, there’s a cushy set of accommodations that’s currently unoccupied. Second prize is, you get to live in those quarters, even if you’re rank-and-file!”

The NCOs and rank-and-file soldiers clearly loved the idea and affirmed their excitement amongst themselves, but the officers already living in that area seemed unimpressed.

A second lieutenant who served in the engine room raised his hand. “Sarge, I live next to those quarters. What happens if I win it?”

“What do I care?” Kurz scoffed. “Cry and deal with it.”

The lieutenant sank into annoyed silence.

“Last but not least,” Kurz continued, “our marvelous first prize! This one’s really something. It’s a truly rare item, not easy to come by—I admit, I kinda wanted it too. The first prize is...” Kurz tossed away his notes and declared, “...a kiss from Captain Teletha Testarossa!”

“Whoooooa!” Most of the male soldiers present erupted. Some pumped fists in the air, others began to hyperventilate, while still others did backflips in excitement.

Tessa, who was standing next to Kurz, just stared into space for a while. Then she snapped back to reality. “W-Weber-san?! I never agreed to this!”

“Huh?” Kurz blinked. “But you said you’d help in any way you could...”

“W-Well... I did say that, true...”

“If you don’t like it, you could donate some well-used underwear,” he suggested.

“That’s worse!”

“All right, then it’s a kiss!” Kurz insisted, and the tournament proceeded.

Kurz spun the cage and read the number from the first ball that came out. Participants mumbled among themselves and punched holes in the cards they’d been given in advance. The rule was that whoever got five in a row first won the grand prize. While things proceeded, Tessa sat, shoulders slumped and distressed, in a corner of the stage.

When it was about time to read the fifth number, Kurz addressed the audience: “Anybody close? Not yet?” A sullen-faced participant raised his hand. It was Sousuke.

“What...” Tessa felt a thump in her chest, and put a hand to her now-racing heart. Kaname, who was standing next to Sousuke, tensed up and looked nervous. The other men participating clicked their tongues in frustration.

Sousuke just looked around blankly (if with a trace of suspicion) at the reactions of those around him. He seemed to be the only one present who didn’t comprehend the meaning of the prize. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked in confusion.

“Lucky bastard...” Kurz groaned, then continued the game.

Tessa suddenly found it hard to sit still. What if Sousuke wins? she wondered. That would be an excellent result, wouldn’t it? It would be a rare chance to get closer to him, given my position. I could just...! Oh, but the idea of kissing him in front of a hundred of my crew... It would be too embarrassing. What to do? What to do? her thoughts continued to race.

“Almost there!” one of the ground force officers shouted. It was Captain Gail McAllen, of the SRT. His callsign was Uruz-1, and he was Major Kalinin’s aide; he was a little man in his mid-30s, with a black mustache.

“I’ve almost got it too,” said First Lieutenant Eva Santos, of the transport helicopter team, raising her hand. Though she was a woman, she seemed rather amused by the idea.

“Ah, Sagara-san... Please...” Tessa whispered to herself. Please get it. I’m begging you. I’m waiting for you... She knew that it wouldn’t change the result, but she just couldn’t help wishing. Apparently ignorant of her feelings, Sousuke remained scowling down at his bingo card, deep in thought.

“This is getting exciting!” Kurz crowed. “Will it be Sagara, McAllen, or Santos? Let’s keep things going!” The cage spun; the ball came out. Everyone gulped. Tessa was on tenterhooks as Kurz read the number. “B... 29.”

“Sorry, fellas! That’s bingo!” McAllen declared with a smile. Groans and sighs echoed throughout the hangar. Some slumped to their knees and gripped their heads; others threw their cards on the floor.

“There we have it! First prize goes to Captain McAllen! Condolences to everyone who missed out.” Kurz turned. “Tessa?”

Slumping in disappointment, Tessa turned her eyes limply to Kurz. “Yes?” she said at length.

“You heard the man. Up and at ’em!” Kurz replied while the group, recovering their fire, egged him on.

McAllen walked up to the podium, grinning. He was usually seen scolding and berating the ground forces, but right now he seemed quite relaxed. “Captain,” he said. “Lay one on me, if you please!”

“Don’t do it, Colonel!” someone called out from the audience. “He’s probably a carrier!”

“Just do it!” another person yelled. “Nothing to lose!”

She didn’t have a choice. If she refused now, she’d hurt his feelings, and disappoint the crowd. Darn it... Tessa thought. She had to be impartial. That’s right. Back when I was a little girl getting my sea legs, I often greeted the old sailors who taught me with a kiss. It’s not that big a deal, is it?

Tessa cast a glance at Sousuke. He was still scowling, as if trying to comprehend the situation. Standing beside him, Kaname’s expression was inscrutable.

Tessa shook the tension out of her shoulders and addressed McAllen. “All right... Captain. Are you ready?”

“Heh... you bet I am, ma’am. It’s my honor.” The middle-aged man was grinning like a child. She smiled a little and gave him a peck on the cheek. The act was met immediately by whistles, applause, and cheers. “This is the greatest day of my life,” he cheered. “I’m so lucky!” She saw Sousuke, at the other end of the crowd, glancing about as he at last grasped the meaning of the prize.

After bingo was over, some of the crew brought out instruments. SRT Master Sergeant Melissa Mao played on keyboards, accompanied by some crew from the maintenance and torpedo divisions. As the crowd began to grow rowdy, those around Kaname encouraged her to sing. She started off meek, but a positive reception to her rendition of Sakamoto Kyu’s Sukiyaki improved her mood, and she satisfied them by singing a few more songs in passionate karaoke mode. She pulled Tessa on stage and gave a soulful rendition of James Brown’s Sex Machine.

“Get up-pah!”

“G-Get up-pah...”

“Get on up-pah!”

“G-Get on up... pah?”

“I can’t hear you!” Kaname yelled. “You couldn’t order a pizza like that, let alone a squad! Right, everyone?”

“Yeah!” the crowd cheered.

“Can I take you to the bridge?!” Kaname bellowed.

“Yeah!” The listeners stamped their feet and joined in with her rapid call-and-response. It went on, with Kaname shouting and Tessa feverishly echoing her each time.

As the song wound down, a communications officer approached Tessa and whispered something to her. Her face, showing a genuine sense of enjoyment, locked up for just a second, but it quickly relaxed back into a smile. She begged off from Kaname and the others, and left. They were disappointed at first, but the party mood quickly revived, and the festivities continued.

Sousuke was alone in a corner of the hangar, some distance away from the crowd. He was sitting on a small container, silently chewing on a fruit-flavored Calorie Mate as he gazed idly at Kaname and the others. She really is good at this kind of thing, Sousuke was thinking.

In just a few hours since her boarding, Kaname had already made herself at home among the crew. In fact, “made herself at home” was putting it mildly—she was incredibly popular with them. Her unpretentious demeanor, her outspoken attitude, her almost shocking lack of guardedness... those things all set the others at ease. It wasn’t just the crew, either; in school or out of it, she developed a rapport with everyone she met. Wasn’t that a far more valuable skill than firing a gun or piloting an AS? Any time he looked at her or Tessa, Sousuke began to see himself as hopelessly flawed.

The song changed to a lively jazz tune, and Kaname added some simple dance moves to her singing on the stage. With a downcast smile, she elegantly twirled her upper body, which caused her black hair to flutter. Sousuke found a sigh escaping his lips. He didn’t know why, but she suddenly felt far away—like the most distant person from him in the world.

“She sure is pretty, huh?” For the first time, Sousuke realized Kurz was standing right next to him. He was holding a non-alcoholic beer in one hand. “Sexy, stylish... No wonder guys fall all over her.”

“Do they? I wouldn’t know,” he responded brusquely.

“Good singer. Great sense of rhythm,” Kurz noted. “I bet they follow her around at school, too.”

“She does have leadership skills,” Sousuke agreed solemnly.

Kurz gave him a sidelong look that turned into a teasing smile. “You’re telling me that seeing her like this doesn’t spark anything for you at all?”

“No.”

“Then what’s with all the sighing?”

Sousuke fell silent; Kurz must have been watching him for a while. With a scowl, he said, “I’m just... concerned about all the noise. The submarine is on maneuvers currently. Light socializing is one thing, but musical performances—”

“Don’t give me that crap,” Kurz snorted. “Tessa said it was fine. Since when does a grunt like you get to second-guess her decisions?”

“Well... true enough.” Sousuke didn’t argue. Noise was the de Danaan’s greatest enemy, but there were currently no major ships or submarines around them for 50 kilometers. Once they were in their area of operations, a commotion like this would be suicide, but that wasn’t the case just yet. Someone could fire a gun on board, and the only ones that would hear it would be the migrating schools of fish.

Of course, even during downtime, there would be members of the crew openly fearful of the fate that might await them at their destination. But worrying wouldn’t change what was going to happen; they still had nothing to do but wait until they arrived. Allotting that waiting time to recreational activities like these wasn’t a bad idea at all.

“Everyone’s afraid,” Kurz said. “Even the veterans.”

Sousuke said nothing. They’d be on strict silent running tomorrow regardless. The strained air that always precedes a mission would take over, and the fearful crew would find their nerves frayed to the breaking point. And then... the battle would begin.

Kaname and the crew were enjoying the party as if none of that even existed. “Huh? One more song? But... aw, okay,” Kaname said, easily giving in. “You guys... Then, let’s do that Stevie Wonder one I mentioned before. Ready, Mao-san?”

“Okay, okay. Bring it on.”

“Then let’s go!” Kaname snapped her fingers, and the intro began to play.

26 August, 1517 Hours (Greenwich Mean Time)

Central Control Room, Tuatha de Danaan

In stark contrast to the party in the hangar, the atmosphere of the control room was one of inorganic tranquility. There was only the blue of the front screens and green of the status boards; neat rows of digits and code conveyed every facet of reality that the submarine could perceive.

Tessa returned here after slipping out of the party, and found Mardukas and Kalinin waiting by the captain’s chair. “What’s the situation?” she wanted to know.

“Not good,” Major Andrey Kalinin responded. The Russian, who commanded their ground forces in the field, rarely joined them to share good news. “The US Special Forces’ raid failed. We’re still lacking all the details, but... there’s a lot that doesn’t add up.”

Information on the armed group occupying the chemical munitions disposal facility was on display in a corner of the main screen. Confirmed units included eight French-made ASes and five Soviet-made SPAAGs, plus around 20 foot soldiers or more. The camouflaged mid-size transport that brought them in had been left in the ocean on the south side of the base.

“This is strange,” Tessa said, brow furrowed. “Their armaments are impressive for terrorists, but they shouldn’t be enough to drive off the SEALs. What about the chemical weapons in storage?”

“There’s been no sign of the fighting having caused a leak,” Kalinin told her. “No intentional detonation, either—though the terrorists did release a statement that they would set it off the next time we try anything.”

“I’m surprised the Americans opted for such a brute force approach...” Tessa trailed off. The media hadn’t yet learned of the occupation. The American government was trying to deal with the problem covertly, in order to avoid the base’s existence being made public.

According to the report made by Mithril’s intelligence division, the terrorist group was demanding the destruction of all of Perio’s tourist facilities and an expulsion of all tourists there. They called themselves the Green Salvation Army and their stated goal was the protection of Perio’s priceless coral reefs. They refused to entertain any negotiation with US forces for alternate conditions, but tourism was the Republic of Perio’s only real industry, and the Western countries’ fundamental policy was “never concede to terrorists”—so the result was a total impasse. The terrorists must have been fully aware of this, too, of course. And yet...

“I don’t like it,” she said, and gripped her braid tightly. “The skill it required to take over that base, the way they dealt with the special forces, the method they used to secure their equipment... it’s all much too technical and professional. Yet their demands make them sound like amateur bank robbers. Could it be a diversion of some kind?”

“I couldn’t say. But regardless of their motives, the danger remains,” Mardukas put in. “And from what I can intuit, operations headquarters wants us to handle the counterinsurgency ourselves.”

“We don’t have a choice, then?” Tessa frowned. “For heaven’s sake...”

Even as they spoke, the US top brass were probably in contact with Mithril’s own upper echelons. Ever since the Sunan Incident, the number of top secret commissions Mithril had received from various countries’ governments had been skyrocketing. They could expect to get the call the minute the details were worked out.

Just then, the boat’s mother AI let out an electronic chime.《Captain. Intelligence message on channel G1. Source: intelligence division. Decrypting and saving as file N98H03811a. Process complete. Display?》

“Yes,” Tessa said shortly, “please do.”

《Aye, ma’am.》

The new information appeared on her personal screen. The intelligence division had sent an electronic file containing additional information about the fight at the chemical weapons facility. The special forces had suffered a complete rout, and at the time they fled, the status of the battle was still labeled unresolved.

Tessa and the others silently read the message text and the attached file, which made it clear that things were even worse than they feared: the destruction of the American ASes had been orchestrated entirely by a single enemy machine. Its model and maker were both unknown, but a soldier that made it back had managed to get it on video.

Tessa called up the video in question; the silent footage showed the blurry image of a red AS, running around the outskirts of the base, arms spread as if at play. It had a massive top-half, a diamond-shaped head, long limbs, and incredible explosive power.

“This... It’s the same make, isn’t it?” Tessa asked.

“It does appear so,” Kalinin said, confirming her suspicions. “It’s almost identical to the machine that Sagara and Weber fought in Sunan.”

The unknown silver AS, piloted by the vile terrorist Gauron... Tessa and the others knew it from mission recorder footage taken by the ARX-7 Arbalest during the fight. “I wonder if it has a lambda driver,” she speculated.

“Almost certainly.”

“No wonder the US forces lost...” Tessa thought a moment, troubled. “I’m liking this less and less.” She pressed the tip of her braid to her lips, anxiously.

The inside of her mouth felt sticky, as it always did when something bad was going to happen. Something in her head seemed to be screaming at her, Do not approach that island.

If she could, Tessa would have turned them right around immediately and taken them back to Merida Island. But instead, she regained her cool and said, “Kalinin-san. How’s the Arbalest?”

“Ready any time,” he answered. “Though formatting it proved to be impossible.”

“Then I assume Sergeant Sagara has not yet received a full briefing?” she checked.

“Those were your instructions, after all.”

“Good; consider them changed,” Tessa ordered. “Have Lieutenant Lemming brief him at once regarding the Arbalest and the lambda driver.”

“How much should she tell him?” Kalinin asked.

“Everything we know so far... little though that may be.”

“Understood.”

26 August, 1702 Hours (Greenwich Mean Time)

Main Hangar, Tuatha de Danaan

Kaname was cleaning up after the party, and Melissa Mao was helping her.

“Hey, sorry about putting you on the spot with the vocals,” the latter was saying.

“Oh, no prob. I had fun.” Kaname smiled as she swiftly folded up a tarp. “You guys are honestly a blast. I figured Mithril people would all be more like Sousuke...”

“Nah, he’s... more the exception, let’s say,” the other woman laughed. Melissa Mao was Sousuke’s comrade; Kaname had met her several times before, but this felt like their first time getting to talk to each other for real. Kaname had heard she was Asian-American, but appearance-wise, Mao could easily have been Japanese. She even spoke the language fluently, if with a bit more of an accent than Kurz. She had short black hair and strikingly large, slightly almond-shaped eyes.

What a cool lady, Kaname thought. She had a kind of mature, sexy air about her, too.

“How’d things go with Tessa?” Mao asked abruptly, while she helped Kaname go about the work.

“Oh, well... she’s sweet, you know?”

“Yeah?” Mao said. “I know things are complicated with Sousuke and all, but I hope you guys can get along.”

“Ah...” Kaname felt her heart skip a beat.

But Mao continued, with the tone of the class gossip. “She told you, right? That she likes Sousuke that way.”

“Y-Yeah, she did, but... but it’s not like I—”

“—feel the same way?” Mao grinned.

Kaname stammered back, “R-Right...”

“Well, if you say so,” Mao shrugged. “Oh... by the way, no one else knows except me, so no worries. She and I are just good friends in private.” She dumped a set of cutlery into a plastic bag as she spoke.

Kaname stood very still and watched her at work and only eventually decided to ask, “But is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Um... does Tessa really... you know?” she asked awkwardly. “From what I saw at the party, it didn’t seem that way...”

It was then that a complicated smile appeared on Mao’s face. It was a rather sad expression, almost like one of pity. “Ah, well... How to put it... while we’re out of port, she can’t really do the whole ‘maiden in love’ thing.”

“How come?”

“Well... because the de Danaan is a warship,” Mao explained. “It’s a lethal weapon, under her command. If it comes to it, she might have to order one of us to die in order to protect the rest of the crew.”

Kaname said nothing.

“So she tries to keep her subordinates at a respectful distance. At least, when the rest of the crew are around.”

“I see...” It made sense, now that Kaname thought about it. It was the same way anywhere, be it a submarine, a company, or a school club. Leaders had to be impartial. To start showing obvious favorites would demoralize the rest of the team, and compromise their loyalty. “That sounds tough...” she sighed.

“It is,” Mao agreed. “It’s tough, and it’s lonely.”

For the first time, it was sinking in for Kaname just how impressive Tessa was. Even after seeing the massive submarine and receiving the giant welcome, it still hadn’t felt real. But why? Why did a girl her own age have to bear such an immense responsibility? Why did she have to fight alongside adults like Mao and Kalinin? Wasn’t that simple cruelty?

But before she could ask Mao about that, Tessa herself entered the hangar. She looked in their direction and walked briskly up to them. “Kaname-san,” she said.

“Wh-What?”

“I need to talk to you,” Tessa told her. “Please, come with me.” Kaname followed Tessa to the captain’s quarters.

The Tuatha de Danaan was a special kind of submarine loaded with ASes, helicopters, and other machines. The fore side housed the hangar, the ammunition stores, the torpedo room, and other “combat” functions, while the facilities necessary for the running of the vessel itself—the control room, the crew quarters, the galley, the mess, and the reactor—ran from the midship to the aft.

“Structurally, it’s similar to the Soviet Typhoon-class nuclear ballistic missile submarine,” Tessa explained as they walked. “In fact, it came from the Russians initially—built in a shipyard in Severodvinsk. But there was an insurrection, and it was sent adrift in the Arctic Ocean, still incomplete. So we slipped in and took it for ourselves.”

“You mean you swiped their half-built scrap?” Kaname raised an eyebrow.

“I suppose you could say that,” Tessa said after a pause. She looked a bit upset, but continued. “A comrade and I used it as the foundation for a completely revamped design. We spent several years on it, integrating all kinds of supertechnology unknown to any country or corporation... and this was the final product.”

“Hmm...” Kaname, lacking any frame of reference for how amazing that was, responded neutrally.

“Its functions are almost entirely automated,” Tessa said modestly. “If I wanted to, I could control it all by myself.”

“By yourself?” Even Kaname knew to be surprised by this.

“Yes. But the fully autonomous mode has a number of imperfections, including sacrificing its greatest strength, the superconductive drive. At the end of the day, a vessel this complicated can’t utilize its full potential without a well-trained crew looking after it.”

Soon, they arrived at the captain’s quarters. Tessa unlocked the door and went inside. Even though this was apparently Tessa’s room, the bag Kaname had left in the infirmary seemed to have been brought here at some point.

“What’s going on?” Kaname asked, feeling bewildered.

“Oh, you’ll be sleeping here, Kaname,” Tessa told her. “Please, make yourself at home.”

The captain’s quarters weren’t especially large; they looked rather like the facilities at a modest business hotel. Just pulling the bed out of the wall would probably make it feel stuffy, and she didn’t see any particular luxuries outside of a private bathroom in the back. The only thing that caught her eye was the sturdy-looking safe in the wall.

On the desk sat a pot of devil’s ivy, a colorful candle, and a wicker basket. Next to the basket was a plastic picture frame, which was set face down. Curiously, Kaname found herself reaching for it, but...

“Ah, please...” Tessa dashed out and covered the frame with both hands. Kaname looked at her in confusion. “P-Please, don’t look at it. It’s... classified. Just some notes I jotted down... the week’s command codes and ID codes and such,” she explained, blushing and fidgeting. But even Kaname knew that nobody put notes in a picture frame. It was probably a picture of someone. Most likely... of him.

She remembered what Mao had just told her and felt a complicated swirl of feelings; a little amused, a little hurt, a little nervous, and yet relieved. The emotions all mixed together to inspire the slightest twinge in the back of her chest. But Kaname feigned total indifference and said, “If it’s that important, shouldn’t you lock it up somewhere?”

“You... You’re right. I’ll do that.” Tessa shut the picture frame up in the safe and cleared her throat. “Well... please, feel free to sit anywhere. Can I offer you tea?”

“Sure. Thanks,” Kaname answered, then sat down on the room’s only sofa. Tessa turned away to pull a tea set from the cabinet.

Kaname was starting to feel a little sleepy. The clock on the wall read 5:29 PM, but that was Greenwich Standard Time—in Japan, as in their current location, it would be the middle of the night—almost 1:30 in the morning. Perhaps noticing her state of mind, Tessa said, “I’m sure you must be tired, but try to stay up a little bit longer. Things will be very busy tomorrow, so I want to talk things over now, while we have the chance.”

Kaname yawned a little and said, “Sure. So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Us,” Tessa said simply.

“You mean Mithril?”

“No. You and me... and a few others,” Tessa hedged. “I don’t know how many, exactly...”

Kaname tilted her head, not grasping her meaning. “What are you talking about?”

“The Whispered...” She breathed the word as gently as could be, yet Kaname’s body locked up instinctively. “—You’ve heard the word before, haven’t you?”

After a long hesitation, Kaname admitted it. “Yes,” she said. In the tense silence that hung over the room, she could feel her heart beating a little faster. The Whispered. Of course that’s what it was about; the word that had been lurking in the back of her mind all this time. The word she’d worked hard to avoid thinking about, because of how frightened it made her... Her dark, hidden secret—a secret that had almost gotten her killed several times before. She’d had a sense, for a while, that the next time she saw Tessa, she’d be forced to confront it head-on. It was a baseless feeling, but one that was always there.

That’s why she hadn’t asked Sousuke to bring her to Tessa earlier. Kaname did want to see her—but at the same time, her mind had rebelled from the thought. She was afraid that the closer she came to the secret, the further she would end up pulled away from her family, from her school, from everyone who lived in that world. And though that thought had never left her head, it seemed her days of passive avoidance were over.

“You may have already realized it, but...” Tessa said. “I’m one of them as well. I’m a Whispered, like you. We know things nobody should know, and we can sometimes draw that information to the surface. There are only a handful of us scattered across the entire world. Perhaps a few dozen more with the latent potential—but no more.”

Kaname felt like time had slowed. There was the pleasant clink of porcelain against metal, and she nearly forgot that they were 200 meters underwater.

“Whispered are often referred to as ‘storehouses of black technology,’” Tessa went on. “Under the right conditions, we can access theories and technologies that far outstrip anything modern science can produce.”

“Me too?” Kaname asked faintly.

“Yes,” Tessa confirmed. “Most children born as Whispered seem to grow up unaware of their power. But as they age, their minds mature; knowledge and vocabulary increases, and they slowly begin to hear them... the whispers.”

Kaname said nothing.

“Once this begins, the intelligence of the Whispered rises dramatically. They find themselves easily solving problems they once found inscrutable, producing original creative ideas... They rapidly become geniuses.”

“A-Am I going to...”

“You haven’t already seen the signs?” Tessa asked.

“Um... I’m not sure. Well...” Kaname thought back to her scores from the first term final. Pretty well in English and social studies; pretty lousy in grammar—that much was typical. It was her grades in math and science that were unusual.

When she’d started the science test, Kaname had thought, What’s with these easy questions? Everyone’s gonna get a perfect score, but she’d been dead wrong. On a test where the average score in her year was 52, Kaname had scored a 95—even though physics and calculus were usually her worst subjects. Kyoko and her other friends had been surprised; even Sousuke had been stunned. What if that wasn’t just a fluke?

“The idea kind of creeps me out...” she admitted. It felt like she was turning into a different person. Even if being a Whispered let her conquer difficult subjects with ease, it didn’t feel like something to celebrate.

“I suppose it would... but the truth is unavoidable,” Tessa monotoned dully.

Is this how doctors sound when they tell someone they have cancer? Kaname wondered.

“On top of this fundamental intelligence increase, Whispered sometimes find themselves knowing more advanced things—things they couldn’t possibly know. Things told to them by a whisper.”

A“whisper”—was that what that voice was? “Just out of the blue, you mean?” Kaname asked.

“Yes,” Tessa said. “As far as I know, you’ve used this power twice: the first time was in the mountains of North Korea; the second was during the battle with Behemoth. It let you know things you couldn’t possibly know. Of course, the second one... you did with my help.”

“Your help?”

“You don’t remember?” Tessa questioned.

“Oh... I guess I do. I gotta say, I still don’t get exactly what happened then...” Kaname thought back. She remembered the voices that came to her through the hazy veil of consciousness. The first one was unsettling, but the second... she’d felt sure it was Tessa’s voice.

“What happened then is known as ‘resonance,’” Tessa informed her.

“Resonance?”

“Yes. Under certain, specific circumstances, Whispered ‘resonate’ with each other. In the deepest parts of our minds, in a place beyond sight... we’re able to use the ‘sphere’ to share our thoughts. It happens when the both of us, together, believe it necessary.”

“What... like telepathy or something?” Kaname’s question wasn’t meant as a joke. She had been through too many strange experiences to simply dismiss the idea as unbelievable.

“Telepathy... Perhaps,” Tessa mused, approaching with a tray; she must have finished the tea. “It’s difficult to say.” She placed a teacup on the small table in front of Kaname then poured black tea from the plunger in the piston-style pot. An elegant fragrance tickled Kaname’s nose. “The resonance... it’s not quite like having a conversation via telephone or transceiver,” she went on. “It’s closer to a LAN on a computer.”

“Or like the Internet?” Kaname guessed.

“On a much smaller scale, and involving fewer people, yes,” Tessa agreed. “But resonance is a very dangerous act—You want to avoid it as much as possible.”

“How come?” Kaname frowned. “It sounds like a really convenient power—”

“Convenience always comes at a cost, Kaname-san,” Tessa said, with a hint of admonishment. “I’ve told you before, but the resonance between Whispered is a sharing of thoughts. It’s not a conversation or a transmission, it’s a melding. Even if it’s kept brief... one wrong move, and you may end up forgetting who you are. Think of it like this.” She picked up the milk dispenser and poured it into her tea, where the cup became a swirl of red and white. Stirring caused the tea and milk to mix, until it was all the same color, an opaque agate. “Once blended together like this, the tea and the milk can never be separated again.”

Kaname said nothing.

Tessa took a casual sip of her milk tea. “This is fine for tea, it just makes the taste more pleasant. But it must not be done with human minds. It will shatter your very identity and bring your life as you know it to an end.”

“Um... I think I understand,” Kaname said uneasily, “but I’m not sure.”

“I’m sorry to speak in such abstract terms, but I don’t entirely understand it all myself,” Tessa apologized. “I can’t do any research on it, now that I’m essentially the only Whispered in Mithril.”

Kaname blinked in surprise when she heard that. “There are others like you?”

At her question, a look of pain entered Tessa’s face. She appeared to be trying to suppress some rising, intense emotion that she hadn’t fully processed yet. “Yes... One that we took in a few months ago is currently in rehabilitation... but setting her aside, there was one other Whispered capable of using his knowledge like me.”

Kaname noticed the word “was,” but didn’t touch on it. “What was he like?”

“His name was Bani Morauta,” Tessa told her. “He was quiet, but kind. And absolutely extraordinary. He’s the one who created that work of art, the Arbalest.”

“Arbalest?” Kaname asked.

“The white AS,” Tessa explained. “Sagara-san’s.”

“Ahh...” It was Kaname’s first time hearing that the machine had a name.

“The Arbalest was based on the M9 prototype, with a lambda driver added in. It’s full of black technology, with no thought given to replicability. We cannot build another, because Bani is no longer with us.”

“You can’t make one, Tessa?” Kaname questioned.

“No. Whispered are not omniscient; I only have limited knowledge of the principle and technology of the lambda driver,” Tessa admitted. “It would be possible to consciously summon a whisper and learn more... but I would prefer not to attempt it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s far more dangerous even than resonance. Each dive into the mysteries of the mind, each attempt to access that forbidden knowledge, causes the whispers to take us over more and more. Once you yield control to them, you can never get it back again,” Tessa warned her urgently. “I know this, because I saw it happen... to Bani.”

“They took him over?” Kaname gasped.

“Yes,” Tessa said shortly. “He went mad and killed himself.” Silence fell over the captain’s quarters.

The Tuatha de Danaan was a truly quiet vessel. There was no hum of machinery, no sound of the waves, no creaking of water pressure on the hull. It was a maddening kind of quiet.

“Now, Kaname-san...” Tessa said at length, setting down her unfinished tea. “The reason I am telling you about the Whispered... is because you are no exception. The danger may not be imminent, but it exists all the same. And not only from the whispers—There are those out there who are desperate to acquire people like you and me.”

“You mean like that Gauron guy?”

“Yes. He appears to be dead now, but he was part of an organization—likely the same one that supplied Takuma and the others with the Behemoth,” said Tessa. “What’s more, they’re capable of building lambda driver-mounted ASes... Which means that they must have one or more Whispered.”

Kaname had nothing to say.

“They want you,” Tessa concluded. “And if they know about me, I’m sure they want me, too. They’ll resort to anything to get us.”

“But... but that’s...” Kaname tugged at the hem of her dress with her fingertips, feeling restless. It wasn’t her first time hearing that people were after her, but she’d never felt the threat so keenly before. There was too much peace in the world she lived in, the bustling town and school, for the idea to feel real.

“I understand that you’re afraid,” Tessa said calmly. “But you aren’t completely alone. We do not wish to see you to fall into enemy hands. The higher echelons of Mithril agree, and that is why they sent a bodyguard from the intelligence division to watch over you.”

“Sousuke, right?” Kaname said.

Tessa shook her head. “No, Sagara-san and I belong to operations, not intelligence.”

Kaname tilted her head.

“You may not have realized it, but you have a second bodyguard watching over you.”

“A s-second?” she said shakily. “Who is it?” It was a bolt out of the blue. This was the first Kaname had heard of it.

“I do not know. And it’s probably better that I don’t,” Tessa admitted. “Their agents are at their strongest when invisible to both friend and foe. If you knew the agent’s identity, then he—or perhaps she—would lose that powerful asset.”

“I guess you’re right...” For some reason, Kaname found herself thinking of their student council president. Smart, calm, and cool-headed... She wouldn’t be surprised if it was him. No, that was way too crazy. But who else could it be?

“After the Sunan Incident, it was Kalinin-san who proposed that Sagara-san remain with you. I’m sure you’re acutely aware of this by now, but in the peaceful society you inhabit, Sagara-san is... conspicuous,” Tessa said. “If the enemy were to get serious about abducting you, they would likely seek to eliminate him first.”

Kaname vaguely got her meaning. “Hey, wait, you mean... Sousuke is a decoy?”

“Effectively,” Tessa said with surprising calm.

Kaname felt a sudden surge of temper. “What? That’s awful! Sousuke’s... he’s doing the best he can! Sure he’s kind of a pain in the butt, but he’s always working really hard to protect me! Using him as bait for bad guys is...”

“I know that!” Tessa raised her voice and glared at Kaname, not even bothering to hide her irritation. It was an extremely sudden change.

As Kaname was stunned into silence, Tessa recovered her composure and lowered her eyes. “I am sorry. But... I want you to consider for whom it is he must do this.”

“Huh?” Kaname fell silent again as the other girl’s words caught her off guard.

“Sagara-san is aware of the other bodyguard,” Tessa continued at length. “He likely knows that he’s a decoy, and... he knows of the danger his position puts him in. He accepted this mission with full knowledge of all of it. And he did it entirely...” For your sake. Those were the words she surely would have said, if she could only bring herself to say them.

The existence of the bodyguard surprised Kaname less than the fact that Sousuke knew about it. He had never breathed a word of it to her. He’d always insisted that he would protect her, but in fact... he was the one most in danger. Something that important, and he’d never even told her...

Sousuke... She felt a slight heat in her chest, accompanied by a surge of mortification. Embarrassment for her past foolishness, acute sympathy for the pain Tessa was in, and self-loathing... all in all, Kaname wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. “T-Tessa... um...”

Tessa remained silent.

“I’m sorry. I... I didn’t know,” Kaname stammered. “And... I really...” She didn’t know how to express how she felt.

While she hesitated, Tessa suddenly smiled. “It’s all right. It isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of the ones targeting you.”

“You’re not mad?” Kaname said timidly.

“No, it’s all right. I just... envy you and Sagara-san so much that it sometimes upsets me.” Tessa let out a big sigh. Then she shook her head, as if to drive out the bad feelings. “But! I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet.”

“Huh?” Kaname blinked.

“I’m refraining while we’re on maneuvers, of course,” Tessa teased. “But you should know that in peacetime, on the base, he and I meet up frequently.”

“R-Really?”

“Yes. Not long ago, the two of us slipped out of the base, and went to a deserted beach...”

“A b-beach?”

Tessa giggled. “The rest is a secret.”

“H-Hey!” Kaname found herself leaning forward, but Tessa just shrugged.

“Now we’re even, Kaname-san. I love Sagara-san. And until you admit that you do as well, the score will remain tied.”

“Come on! I’m telling you, I don’t—” Kaname got that far, then suddenly wondered why she was getting so upset. She stared into Tessa’s teasing eyes for just a second, then began to laugh, as if all the tension was leaving her body. “Well, whatever.”

“Indeed.” Tessa giggled. They shared their laughter for quite a while, completely at ease. Just a few minutes ago, things had felt as grave as if the end of the world was coming... and now it was all forgotten.

To think that talking about that war-obsessed fool Sousuke could bring this kind of relief... Kaname whispered a thank-you to him in her heart. (Though she’d be keeping that “deserted beach” talk tucked away in her mental arsenal.)

“That’s about all I needed to talk with you about. But there’s one last thing,” Tessa said after their laughter died down. “The things that I’ve told you, particularly regarding the Whispered, are only known to a select few at Mithril. Not even Sagara-san, Weber-san, and Melissa know about it.”

“You mean... it’s top secret, right?” Kaname checked.

“Correct. In fact, it has an even higher classification rating—it is a ‘black fact.’” Tessa’s voice wasn’t especially grim; there was nothing hushed or threatening in her tone, but that just gave it all the more weight of reality. “So... I want you to make me a promise. Promise that you will not tell anyone else about this. Not Sagara-san, not your friends at school, not your family... especially not your father, who likely does not look kindly on organizations such as Mithril.”

“Yeah... I’ll bet,” Kaname agreed glumly. He probably does know about them, she realized. Her father worked for the United Nations as High Commissioner for the Environment: it was a newly created department that handled mediation and regulations on environmental issues. They didn’t have the budget or clout of older departments like the High Commission for Refugees, but his power was still considerable.

“Because of your father’s influence, the higher-ups in Mithril forbade me from telling you about the situation,” Tessa continued. “That order is still in place.”

“Huh? But then...”

“Yes. What I’ve just done is a grave violation of duty,” Tessa admitted. “I’ve been considering the matter for a long time now... and in the end, I decided to tell you. I could not leave you exposed to such severe danger because of a political decision made by my superiors.” The risk that she was taking on exceeded anything Kaname could even imagine. She didn’t know if Mithril did executions by firing squad, but what she’d done had to be enough to get her stripped of her post, at least. She was taking that risk on, all for Kaname’s sake.

“But why would you?” she asked with upturned eyes, and Tessa showed a slight hesitance. An uncertainty. Or was that... bashfulness?

“Please... do not read so deeply into it. My reasons aren’t anything of any great significance. But... anyway, will you promise not to talk to anyone else about it?” Tessa asked, looking straight at Kaname.

Kaname met her gaze head-on and said, “Yes,” without any hesitation. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“As a friend,” Tessa suggested.

“Yes,” Kaname agreed. “As a friend.” The two found themselves shaking hands.

The next morning, Kaname went with Sousuke and Kurz on a tour of the boat. They visited the mess, the duty room, the torpedo room, and the control room and had fun conversations with the crew at each station. The sonar shack was especially interesting; the technician let Kaname listen to his treasured tape of the sounds around the boat. The sad cries of the whales, the pig-like shouts of the dolphins, the roar of underwater volcanoes erupting—the ocean was a livelier place than she’d ever imagined.

They let her view the weapons in the hangar, too. She was shown the cockpit of a combat helicopter, and they even let her touch the controls. She was allowed into an AS cockpit, but they only let her move the head—She wanted to try the arms and legs, but Sousuke seemed to bristle at the suggestion, saying things like, “No, it’s dangerous. Extremely... dangerous.”

She didn’t breathe a word about what Tessa had told her; she just interacted with the others, as she’d always done.

It turned out that touring a submarine was a lot more fun than walking around some resort. It was full of surprises, big and small; everything she saw, everyone she met was a completely new experience. But... around noon, she felt the atmosphere on board undergo an almost imperceptible shift. The expressions of the crew became a little more guarded, and the hangar, which had been noisy earlier with maintenance work, fell quiet. The people she saw coming and going in the corridors, and the people she saw killing time in the berthing, all drastically reduced. A subtle tension hung in the air.

When Kaname asked Sousuke about it, he told her, “The boat is nearing the area of operations.”

“Area of operations?” she questioned.

“Yes,” he said. “The fighting will start soon.”