5: When the Crossbow Breaks

Why has this job been so rocky? Kurama, having successfully made it off the roof, reached for a cigarette in his coat pocket in lieu of cursing. But the cigarettes weren’t there. That’s right. I’m trying to quit.

He therefore had no choice but to curse quietly as he moved away from the school, quickly arriving at a general store near the shopping district. Due to the general panic that had overtaken the city, it had already been abandoned.

An enormous explosion came from the school. It wasn’t the bombs he had set; he could faintly hear the sound of AS drive systems behind it. Kurama gave brief directives via radio to his subordinates. “The reinforcement ASes?”

“They’re here,” one subordinate confirmed. “They’re pursuing the enemy machine right now, but...”

Kurama could hear the sounds of shots being fired. AS combat was happening, and very close by—black shadows crossing the sky; buildings destroyed here and there... “Oh?” he asked. “What is it?”

“The enemy machine has withdrawn to the school, most likely to meet up with Sagara.”

“Destroy it before it gets there.”

“Sorry, update. They didn’t make it in time. The enemy machine is fighting back now. The platoon chief—”

Kurama heard an especially massive explosion overhead. A Codarl-m had clashed with the enemy’s white AS about fifty meters above him. They clashed again, and then, grappling, began to descend.

“Urgh...” He threw himself to the ground as the two ASes continued to fight, toppling electric poles, plowing through guardrails, and crushing half of the general store. Concrete and glass went flying, and dust hung thickly in the air around him.

The grappling had seemed chaotic, but the victor was immediately clear. The white AS’s monomolecular cutter had stuck in the chest of the Codarl-m, which had been on the bottom when they landed. The white AS yanked its monomolecular cutter out with an ear-piercing shriek of metal, then sprang back up immediately and leaped towards a corner to the southwest, in order to face down the remaining Codarl-ms.

“Damn it,” said Kurama, as the gust from the machine’s motion sent his coat flapping.

“He seems to have taken out the platoon chief’s machine,” said his subordinate.

“Yeah, I just saw it happen.” Kurama, still on his backside, reached for a pack of cigarettes that had fallen amidst the rubble. “Leave the AS to the ASes. Still no sign of the girl?”

“Not yet, but we found traces on the roof of the 21-31 shopping center. Signs of recent damage to the concrete, likely from an AS landing.”

“So?” Kurama scoffed. “The enemy’s been moving around a lot today.”

“An employee mentioned it... There’s a parking lot on the roof, and right after he opened shop, he saw a woman driving away with an unconscious girl in her car.”

Kurama hummed curiously. “Did he describe the woman and the car?”

“The woman looked young, but that was all he could say,” the subordinate answered. “The car was a white Alphard.”

“Tap the Tokyo Police. Run it through the last three hours of ORBIS.”

“Roger.”

Kurama turned the radio off, then idly broke the seal on the cigarettes as he puzzled it out. What’s going on here? Did he hand her over to someone else? Was it that woman from before? But if so, why didn’t she support him earlier? Or more to the point, why did she choose to show herself then?

Someone was calling on another channel. It was Leonard Testarossa.

“What do you want?” Kurama asked.

“You seem to be struggling.”

“Why, thank you. I’ve had quite a lot of trouble, in fact.” Kurama took a cigarette from the opened box and put it in his mouth. He wasn’t going to light it, just hold it there. That wasn’t technically the same as smoking. “We still don’t know where the girl is. I think I’m out of options.”

“You’re not.”

“What’s that?”

“The girl can’t have gone far,” Leonard pointed out. “And who, do you think, would be the most effective hostage to lure her out?”

Kurama scowled. “Well...”

“Him. The man himself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s still out there—”

There was an explosion in the distance. His subordinate reported, “Two allies shot down,” over the radio.

“—wreaking havoc,” Kurama finished.

“I see,” Leonard said neutrally. “Can you ask them to hold out a bit longer? Three minutes should do.”

“What?”

“Three minutes. That’s all I need.” Leonard’s transmission cut off there.

Kurama clicked his tongue and searched for a lighter. There wasn’t one—not in his pocket, nor on the ground around him. “Dammit.” He tossed the cigarette away.

In the dimly lit hangar of the transport helicopter, he tested the feeling of the thin gloves. He clenched his right fist, and then opened it. Not bad.

He listened to the pilot’s report through the receiver in his ear. Now above Tokyo, altitude 5000 meters. Expected arrival time, about three minutes.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m boarding now.”

“Are you certain you need to go personally?” a woman’s calm voice asked through the receiver on a separate channel. She was actually sitting just across from him, but the roar of the helicopter drowned out her voice.

“Sometimes, it’s necessary to stretch one’s own legs,” he told her, looking down at his operator’s uniform with a hint of self-recrimination. “And to correct certain grave misunderstandings.”

“I see. Stay safe, then.”

“Thank you. I’ll return soon.” He turned around, walking up to the machine that crouched in the dimly lit hangar. The vibrations all around them made the faint lights of the head-mounted sensors appear to tremble.

As the battered Arbalest engaged the enemy ASes, Wraith remained where she was, treating the injured girl. The head wound was just a bruise and a cut; the blood loss wasn’t as bad as it looked. The bleeding from her right side was much more concerning.

Wraith used her army knife to cut Tokiwa’s clothing away and get a better look at the wound. A bit of scrap metal, no bigger than the tip of her pinkie, had flown just under her ribs and into her diaphragm: a penetrating wound. There was no telling how much internal damage it might have done. She’d have to patch it up and take her quickly to the hospital.

In this chaos, she couldn’t count on an ambulance. Wraith lifted up the limp girl and hurried to a parking lot two blocks away. This is so stupid, she told herself. Why am I even doing this?

All she had to do was dump the girl on the ground and run to her car. Then she could say to the other waiting girl, “I saved them as promised. Now, come with me.” But Wraith wasn’t doing that. Instead, she was going to try to keep this girl from dying. She carried her, carefully but swiftly, to the white van in the parking lot. When she unlocked it, the automatic door in the back seat opened.

“Kyoko?” Chidori Kaname, who was lying inside, sat up shakily when she saw her friend.

Right, left. Up, down. The target box moved, dancing with the enemy AS in the city of Sengawa at noon. The familiar cherry trees had been smashed to bits. The donut shop he’d frequented with the others was a pile of rubble. The kei-truck the baker used to make deliveries to their school was a wreck. Everything was breaking down before his eyes. All of the sights that had healed him, that had given him a hint of humanity...

《Proximity alert,》AI reported, sounding an alarm.

An enemy was approaching. Its rifle was pointed right at him.

It fired.

Throwing out its left hand, the Arbalest warped the air around it and the shot burst into pieces. The machine approached him at high speed. He dropped his weight as they passed each other, stuck out a foot and tripped the enemy. It went tumbling, taking trees and electrical poles with it.

Sousuke didn’t even wait for it to stand up again; he spun around immediately and threw an anti-tank dagger. The blast from the directed explosive hit the machine in the side, taking out his third opponent.

With that, the city was quiet again.

He stood on the road in front of Jindai High School, using his active sensors to search for any enemies that might remain. He found nothing. Most of the students had already evacuated to the residential area, but some had remained in the schoolyard, staring dumbly up at the Arbalest.

He could see several of his classmates there, as well: Kazama Shinji was there; Onodera Kotaro, too.

Sousuke ran down his damage checklist and saw that half of his ECS projectors were destroyed. It would be harder now to turn invisible and move freely around the city. What to do? he wondered. Recover Kaname, flee the city at full speed... and then...

An alarm sounded.

《Large transport helicopter approaching. Heading: 187. Distance: 20. Number: 1. Speed: 500. Altitude: 1000 and dropping.》

His brain wasn’t working right. His vision was blurring, too, probably from exhaustion and blood loss. Sousuke shook his head, blinked his eyes and squinted. His screen showed a transport helicopter approaching from the southern sky. The targeting box declared it a “low threat aerial unit.” It was a C-17, enemy/ally classification unknown.

The transport came closer and closer. It was moving quite fast, and dropping in altitude. It was only about 300 meters away now. The roar of the turbofan engines shook the rubble on the ground. They were in an urban area, so he couldn’t shoot it down. Sousuke dropped his weight in preparation, and the transport flew past.

In that instant, something other than the transport passed above him like a shadow. He could see a parachute, detached from its wearer, fluttering in the sky above the north school building... but that was all. Meanwhile, the transport picked up altitude again and sailed away again into the western sky.

Sousuke’s mouth opened questioningly. The transport had dropped something, but he didn’t know what.

What could it have—

《Six o’clock, distance zero!》

An AS was standing right behind him.

Sousuke moved his machine, but in that exact moment, the enemy’s right arm flashed. Armor fell from the Arbalest’s shoulder. Before it could even hit the ground, Sousuke reached his machine’s hand back, drawing the shotcannon from its waist, and fired. The enemy seemed to shudder—but it was just an afterimage. His shot cut through the air fruitlessly and disappeared into the sky beyond.

It was quiet. Achingly quiet. Sousuke hissed and jumped back to gain distance, but the enemy was already there.

Sharply angular, with dark silver armor: it appeared to be from the same production line as the Codarls he’d fought many times before, but he’d never seen this specific model. The limbs were slender and elegant, without appearing weak. There was something hanging from the shoulders—parts vaguely reminiscent of wings, or a cape—which gave the machine an extra sense of weight and majesty.

Yes, this AS was less a weapon and more a polished silver idol. It far outstripped the battered Arbalest in strength, beauty, and presence.

《No data found on this model,》Al reported.

“Try extrapolating its specs.”

《Equal output, mobility, and stealth to a Codarl. It likely contains a lambda driver. Further speculation impossible.》

“We’re in agreement, then,” Sousuke said.

《Affirmative. It’s dangerous. Swift retreat recommended.》

“You think it’s possible?”

《Negative.》

“We’re in agreement there, too.”

The enemy was barehanded. It didn’t have a single rifle or other portable weapon. The machine turned its head to the people in the schoolyard, as if it didn’t see Sousuke at all, and slowly put its right hand on its hip.

“Now, then... Sagara Sousuke-kun,” said a voice, booming out from the enemy’s external speaker. It was the cool, clear, and all-too-familiar voice of a certain young man. “I don’t intend to take anybody there hostage. I don’t really see the point. But I will tell you this: This will be my last warning. Will you surrender and give me the girl?”

“You know my answer,” Sousuke responded through his external speakers, despite knowing his classmates in the yard could hear him.

“I thought not,” Leonard said. “But... that uncooperative nature of yours. Do you really think it makes you impressive?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you know... I really hate that kind of thing.” Breaking through the silence, the enemy machine’s shoulder wings unfurled, and its toes left the ground as if gravity had ceased to hold it. The air around it warped; dust swirled, and the machine simply rose into the air.

It hadn’t leaped off the ground. It was simply hovering, somehow. The eyes in its asymmetrical head glared down at Sousuke, and the attack that followed was as powerful as a gale.

Inside the van, Kaname could only watch and cry as Wraith took out her medical kit and started treating Kyoko’s wound. “Can... you save her?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?!”

“Just watch me.” Wraith silently continued her work, her hands stained crimson.

“Kyoko... I’m so sorry, Kyoko...” Kaname moaned.

It’s my fault, she thought. It’s all my fault. Everything: because I hesitated, because I couldn’t decide. Because of me, my best friend... The symbol of my happiness... It’s all my fault. Someone save her. Please, God. Don’t let my best friend die. Please. I’ll do anything. Please. Please...

Just then, she heard another voice.

It was the voice of a young man trying to destroy something equally precious to her.

I see. That white AS is a fine machine, after all. Its maneuverability and power are adequate for something based on the M9, Leonard thought. I’m genuinely impressed by its mobility, despite the damage it’s taken. Its toughness is far beyond any test model. It was clearly created with live combat in mind.

“But...” His Belial spun in midair, stopped, and then zigzagged behind the enemy machine. The laws of physics were, in a sense, his to command. He didn’t even have to employ the weapons mounted in his back; his hands had more than enough cutting power on their own. With a spin, he sliced off the left arm of Sousuke’s machine, just below its shoulder. Even as the beleaguered AS lost its balance, it pointed the shotcannon in its right hand at Leonard.

It fired.

Leonard effortlessly blocked the shot, and threw it back at his opponent. A shockwave hit him. Metal fragments went flying, and the enemy’s right knee bent the opposite way that it should.

He can’t possibly win, Leonard thought, knowing who was listening. He can’t beat me—me, who can freely commune with the omnisphere, who can use the lambda driver’s power to its fullest!

Are you watching? he asked her.

“Stop it,” Kaname told him.

Do you see now?

“Don’t kill him,” she pleaded.

I’m very annoyed.

“Please.”

You’re the only one who can stop this, said Leonard.

“I’ll love you, if you want.”

Your nobility, your strength...

“I’ll try so hard,” she promised him.

Why are they only for him?!

“I’ll forget.”

Meanwhile, Sagara Sousuke refused to fall. He used his machine’s one remaining leg and arm to stay upright, then scrambled for cover, escaping into the school courtyard. He fired another shotcannon shell on the way.

Leonard dodged this one easily enough, soaring forward on his dark fury, and blasted the next shot back at his attacker. Then, he heard an explosion from behind. A directional mine with a delay fuze... a silly trap, after all this?! he fumed to himself. The stubbornness... the sheer bloodymindedness...! The white AS continued to fire off its head-mounted machine guns, and drew its final anti-tank dagger with its right hand.

“Unsightly,” Leonard said out loud, opening the weapons bay in the Belial’s left arm. Leonard then fired the 40mm cannon within, tearing to shreds the other machine’s right arm, its right shoulder, and its head. The enemy’s pitiful lambda driver was helpless to stop it.

He stepped on the stomach of his enemy’s machine—now delimbed, decapitated, and disarmed—and tore open its chest armor. Beyond a set of warped, ruined, sparking screens, he could make out Sagara Sousuke, its operator. He displayed none of the panic that Leonard had hoped to see; instead, he just released the master stick and pointed his pistol straight at Leonard, through the gap in the screens. His face was covered in blood, but the fire in his eyes couldn’t be extinguished.

Sousuke fired, aiming at the Belial’s sensors. It was a truly pathetic shot, compared to what an AS was capable of. The best it could do was leave an annoying scuff mark.

Leonard could hear the voice of the Arbalest’s AI. “Generator... shut down. All capacitors destroyed. Escape... immediately. Recommend... to abandon unit and...” Then, silence. The ARX-7 had been effectively demolished: it had lost both of its arms, its right leg, and its head. Its core was annihilated.

A gentle breeze blew through the courtyard. It passed over the dying giant, and the one that had conquered it. “You did well, Al,” said Sousuke, waving his gun. “Your discharge is... granted.” Then he lifted his pistol and fired again.

One unsightly scorch mark on the Belial’s sensors became two. It was like an annoying mosquito buzzing around Leonard’s ear. He’d never felt quite this brand of annoyance before.

I don’t even care now. I’ll just crush him, Leonard thought, even as he knew, deep in his skin, that it wouldn’t give him true victory over the man. But I don’t care anymore. If you refuse to submit, even now...

“Please, stop.” A girl appeared in the corner of his screen. She was standing before the bushes in the courtyard, looking up at the two machines, shoulders heaving with breath.

It was Chidori Kaname. “Stop this,” she said. “I’ll go.”

“With who, I wonder?” Leonard mused.

Her long black hair rustled in the breeze. A long hesitation? No, her answer was clear... “With you.”

Leonard turned his machine’s head to face Sagara Sousuke, and whispered, “You heard her, Sagara Sousuke-kun.” His Belial pulled away from the Arbalest’s remains to kneel down in front of her, reverently. It proffered its right hand. Eyes fixed downward, the girl slowly sat down in its palm. It stood up, and together, they looked down at the duel’s loser.

“Chidori... don’t...” Sagara Sousuke whispered. He slowly lowered his gun.

“It’s okay now,” she told him.

“No, it isn’t...”

“I’ll be fine. And you will, too.”

“I will... bring you back...” His arm went limp, falling back against the warped cockpit frame. “I’ll bring you back... to this place...”

The sensors of Leonard’s machine couldn’t pick it up, but he knew that she was trembling, and holding back the urge to weep. “Let’s go,” she said through the screen. Leonard shrugged and quietly began to move.

The minute he turned his back, Chidori Kaname whispered something to Sagara Sousuke. He could only see the movement of her lips, so he didn’t know what she had said.

She could hear an ambulance siren. Firefighters and police, as well. Wraith was on her way to a nearby emergency hospital when something flew over her head, moving in the direction of the school: it was a dark silver machine, and it made none of the sounds that would accompany rotors, or a jet engine.

An... arm slave? She wondered. Then its ECS activated, and the machine vanished into the dull gray sky above. For just a second, Wraith glimpsed someone in its hands. She knew exactly who the person was. After all, she was the one who had made the decision not to stop Chidori Kaname from getting out of the van. This was in clear defiance of the intelligence division’s orders: General Amit would never forgive her.

Good grief... she thought.

Once she’d dropped the girl off at the hospital, Wraith would have no choice but to go into hiding herself—somewhere far away, where nobody knew her. She’d originally come out of the intelligence agencies of North Korea, so this would be her second time on the run from a former employer.

Having been swayed by emotion into forgetting her mission, Wraith found herself reflecting that perhaps she wasn’t cut out for this job, after all. Maybe that girl was right. Maybe she was better off as a starving actor.

●

The battle with the enemy force that had landed on Merida Island was still raging inside the underground base. The fighting topside was finished.

The base personnel had taken up arms and formed impromptu squadrons to hold the enemy back. They’d blown up their air conditioning system and several other base facilities, preferring that to letting the enemy get them.

The sounds of gunfire and vibrations from distant explosions could be heard even in the command center, along with screams of rage and terror.

It was only a matter of time before they were under siege.

At last, Tessa had no choice but to give the order to abandon command. The forces remaining there took up firearms and hurried for the untouched submarine dock. Corporal Yang of the SRT was leading; Major Kalinin was bringing up the rear.

They didn’t know what condition they’d find the submarine dock in. Internal base connections had been severed, making it difficult to get in touch with other departments. Tessa had managed to use the PA system to give the order to retreat to the dock, but she didn’t know how many of the fighting base personnel had heard it.

They were hurrying down the (presumably still safe) third passageway to the dock when an attack came from an unexpected direction. A communications officer right beside Tessa, a lieutenant, took a bullet and fell. He didn’t even have time to scream.

“Protect the colonel!” somebody shouted. Her people fell one by one, some while shielding her, some while trading fire. Bullets ricocheted around the passage, and explosions from hand grenades echoed in the dark.

She could hear Major Kalinin, firing a submachine gun, call out, “Forget me, just go!”

Corporal Yang emerged from the smoke. “This way,” he said, and he pulled Tessa by the hand.

She ran down the corridor, staggering, coughing, dragging her feet. She couldn’t see Kalinin, nor many of her other subordinates. Far behind her, she could hear the steady but sporadic sound of gunfire of those who stayed to fight.

Yang was the only one with her now. “The major—”

“There’s nothing we can do,” she said. “Hurry.”

But the enemy was proving extremely crafty, and must have known the layout of the base better than she’d expected. All of a sudden, four enemy soldiers, each carrying carbines, came flying out around a corner in the direction they were heading.

Tessa exclaimed in fright. They’d gotten around behind them? With the dock just ahead—

Nevertheless, it was Yang who fired first. The lead soldier took a shot to the head, and flew back forcefully. But the enemy soldiers registered no surprise before firing their submachine guns back at Yang, who took a shot to the center of his chest and stumbled.

“Colonel.” Yang stepped in closer and kept firing. A second enemy pitched over and fell. “Run—”

He didn’t stand a chance. She watched as Yang took more shots and tottered limply back. All Tessa could do was hold him upright.

No, she told herself, I’m not finished yet. Tessa snatched the carbine rifle from Yang’s hands, and while feeling surprise at its heaviness, she pointed it in front of her.

But the remaining enemies closed in on her fearlessly and knocked the rifle out of her hand. Tessa cried out in frustration as the enemy soldier spoke up, in a whisper of barely-contained rage. “This brat is their commander?”

“Guess so,” one of his compatriots agreed. “She’s put us through a lot.”

“Time for compensation. Strip her down.”

“Sure. Gonna sample the goods?”

“As long as we leave her alive, no one’ll complain. And we still have time—”

Just then, a new voice rang out, from the side. “I’d say your time’s up.” The two men turned, just in time for Melissa Mao’s submachine gun to rip into them on full automatic. Shell casings and smoke went flying. The two enemy soldiers slumped into a mist of blood.

“Melissa...” Tessa began to say.

Breathing heavily and covered in mud from head to toe, Mao approached. “Let’s go,” she told Tessa shortly.

“But Yang-san—”

“He’s fine,” said Mao, cutting her objections off. “He’s wearing body armor. It looks like he took it in the stomach and the leg...” Turning to Yang, she said, “Y’know, you’re the best in the SRT in terms of lucky breaks.”

“Yeah...” The fallen Yang laughed, then let out a pained groan as the two helped him up. “But... you really stole my thunder... back there...”

“Stupid,” grumbled Mao. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah, no problem... Urgh!”

Mao and Tessa, supporting the bleeding Yang on either side between them, hurried to the dock.

“What’s the situation?” Mao asked, panting. She looked like she’d been through hell.

“The base has fallen. All personnel are retreating. They even attacked us here, though I and the five remaining command center personnel fought to the end...” Tessa gulped. “Then Kalinin-san remained behind. I think... he’s gone.”

“I see...”

“Castello-san is dead, as well.”

Mao’s face tensed up.

“Clouseau-san and Weber-san are incommunicado,” Tessa went on. “Given the state of things on the surface...”

“It’s fine. Comes with being on the losing side.” Nevertheless, Mao’s voice was hoarse and trembling. “Dammit. I’ll get them back for this.”

“I intend to as well,” Tessa agreed.

“Hah.” For the first time, Mao let out a small laugh of her own. “Yeah, you’d better. I love you, Tessa.”

“And I you.”

Faintly, Yang managed to whisper, “Hey... what about me?”

Tessa’s feet felt heavy. Her breathing was ragged. Her body hurt all over. Nevertheless, the entrance to the dock slowly neared. “Hang in there,” she told Yang.

“Sure.”

Beyond the barricaded entrance to the dock, someone was shouting, a rifle in hand. “Hurry!” Assisted by several PRT personnel, Tessa made it into the submarine dock, where she found several hundred men and women, including both submarine crew and base personnel, waiting for her.

“Atten-SHUN!!”

Incredibly, despite the situation... they were all lined up in perfect formation. The flooding of the dock was complete, and their rows stretched into the distance, three neat lines, in front of the Tuatha de Danaan ready to move out.

“We’ve awaited your arrival, Miss Captain.” At the head of the lines stood her XO, Lieutenant Colonel Richard Mardukas. “The unparalleled vessel Tuatha de Danaan, ruler of the seven seas, is ready to depart. On your order, ma’am!” He must have been helping with the repairs to the very end, and he looked a little bit pathetic, standing there covered in oil. But at the same time, his unwavering pride and nobility shone through.

“Oh... honestly.” Tessa said, while handing the unconscious Yang off to medical personnel. “Formality, in times like these?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’d argue it is paramount in times such as these.”

She didn’t argue with Mardukas, from whom she couldn’t have imagined a more characteristic response. They could still hear gunshots in the distance, and the surviving Behemoth would be waiting for them when they left the dock.

Still, Tessa gave the command in a sonorous voice. “All crew, come aboard!”

“Aye, aye, ma’am!” Her subordinates responded in unison.

The generator was working. The rearguard held out as long as they could, fending off the enemies that made it into the dock with disposable M6s. But the second the last of them was on board, Tessa gave her order from her seat in the control room. “Forward, one-third!”

“Aye, ma’am. Forward, one-third!”

The boat slowly began to set out, aiming for the great ocean outside the underground base. When the enemy forces came running, firing rocket launchers at the submarine, explosives rigged up to the roof of the dock began to burst. Rocks and steel rained down on the soldiers, raising up swirls of dust and smoke.

“Open the fourth hatch!” Tessa commanded next. She was referring to the large hatch for ASes on the upper deck—the hatch they’d used to retrieve the Arbalest in Sunan.

“The fourth? Why?” Mardukas asked suspiciously.

“Because if they’re still alive, they’ll be coming,” she told him.

“True indeed. Open the fourth hatch!” Mardukas ordered without further hesitation.

The Tuatha de Danaan began to pass through the giant underwater tunnel, accelerating rapidly. The end of the tunnel—the bright white light ahead of them—grew closer and closer. The exit was right in the middle of the cliff. The shutter, which was disguised as a rock face, was already open.

The enemy would be there. They would be waiting for them. Tessa was perfectly aware of that scenario when she said, “Load ADCAPs one through six. Flood all launch tubes and have them open.”

“Aye, Captain. Load ADCAPs one through six. Flood and open all launch tubes!” Her XO relayed the order and the fire control officer executed it.

“Warning! All launch room and armory crew, evacuate to the aft!”

“Warning!”

They all knew what it meant. A siren blared through the submarine, and the sonar tech shouted. “High-frequency array, new contact! Something huge dead ahead!”

“As expected. Perfect.” Tessa smiled. “Fire one through six!”

Six ADCAP torpedoes fired from the Tuatha de Danaan’s torpedo tubes. Each was a 300 kilogram warhead capable of rendering a large ship immobile. Explosives totaling 1.8 tons shot at high speed for the tunnel’s exit—at the Behemoth waiting in front of the cliff that formed Merida Island’s shore.

Every one of them hit.

There was a tremendous explosion and a shockwave that ran through the de Danaan, too. The floor below them bucked up and shook them in all directions.

The ST cried out, “Dammit, it’s still alive!”

Tessa could see the image through the periscope. The Behemoth was outside the tunnel’s entrance, just in front of them, and now it was in a rage. It had lost its “clothes-hanger pole,” but it still had its head-mounted machine cannons. Though staggered by the tremendous explosion, it still spread its arms to intercept them.

“Plow through!” she ordered.

“I—”

“Push it over!”

“Aye, aye, ma’am! On into hell!” the helmsman shouted. The 210,000 horsepower generator let out a howl. The propulsion machinery roared with joy, and the ten-thousand-ton boat accelerated.

“All crew, prepare for impact!”

Just then, a series of explosions peppered the Behemoth’s head. For one instant, the giant lost its balance. Where had the attack come from? Probably from the cliff—

Impact.

The de Danaan’s prow had struck the Behemoth’s hip, and a sharp screech of metal assaulted their ears. The two great giants had collided—but it was they, the de Danaan’s crew, who had won the bet. The opponent was only several thousand tons, while they were 44,000. No matter how bulletproof it was, the Behemoth couldn’t resist a difference in mass like that. It was like a tractor-trailer slamming into a pro wrestler at full speed.

The overwhelming power of their collision sent the Behemoth flying. It rolled as it went, slowly, kicking up waves in its wake. The hit must have come by surprise, because the enemy lambda driver didn’t seem to have activated; instead, the metal monster soaked the full force of the hit and collapsed. Its hip and abdominal armor went flying, falling in pieces as it fell into the ocean head-first.

The Tuatha de Danaan was now free in the endless horizon of the sea.

“I knew you’d do that. You’ve got a real violent streak, y’know,” came a familiar voice over channel U1. It was Kurz. His vector was unknown, but his distance was zero.

“For once in our lives, we’re in agreement. Looks like we made it just in time,” Clouseau’s voice agreed. His vector, too, was unknown; distance zero.

The periscope’s optical sensors activated automatically. Two M9s in battered armor, one black and one gray, were clinging to the mast by the open fourth hatch.

“Weber-san! Clouseau-san!” Tessa greeted them joyfully. They must have jumped down from the cliff just as they exited the underwater tunnel. They were also the two who had ambushed the Behemoth.

“Pretty cool, aren’t we?” Kurz boasted.

“We’re in agreement again,” said Clouseau. “Well... permission to come aboard, Colonel?”

While privately aghast at their boorish behavior, Tessa was relieved to see them. “Of course,” she said happily. “You have permission to enter through the fourth hatch.”

“Roger, and thanks.”

Mardukas, standing next to the captain’s chair, simply shrugged. “Honestly... they’re all very stubborn.”

“That is one of our strengths,” Tessa agreed.

“Maybe so. But... we took losses today. Severe ones.” Mardukas grabbed the brim of his cap and lowered his eyes as if in silent prayer.

“Yes...” Tessa knew that they had indeed lost much, both in terms of things and of people. The shame of it would probably torment her forever, and they had no way of knowing what lay ahead.

Their situation hadn’t improved in any way. The Pacific Ocean seemed infinite around them. The de Danaan was completely isolated, and had no hope for aid. But... “We can kick ourselves another day,” Tessa decided. “Once we actually have time for self-reflection.”

The officer of the deck reported the retrieval of the two machines, and they closed the fourth hatch. The electronic warfare technician declared that enemy helicopters were trying to track them.

Tessa stood up once, then retook her seat in the captain’s chair. “Let’s break through the enemy barricade. Emergency running. Vent MBT.”

“Aye, ma’am! Emergency running! Vent MBT!” The alarm echoed throughout the submarine: loud, yet reassuring in its familiarity.