The voice that was heard from the headphone sounded like water flowing under the floor. Swoosh, kok kok, such irregular sounds seemed similar to the sounds that would be made when changing water pipes.
“…I don’t know.”
The sonar operator opened his closed eyes and took off the headphones from his ears. The two on-duty crewmen beside him looked over at the sonar panel to check that all the functions were working properly, and then put their headphones back onto the console hook. The dim lighting of the sonar room showed the wry faces of shrugs, and Adi, who sat on the duty officer chair, felt a sense of despair.
The 42-year-old sonar operator was relatively experienced even amongst the highly experienced NCOs. When Adi was still a toddler learning how to walk, the sonar operator had already got onto the submarine. In terms of reading sonar, there was no doubt that the sonar operator was Adi’s senior, but he lacked sensibility. The sonar operator was used to not using his imagination, and kept following the conclusion made by the sonar receiver. However, no matter how advanced technology was, a submarine crew member required instinctive intuition and the ingenuity of a craftsman.
“This is the sound detected by the passive sonar 30 minutes ago. It really did not feel like the wavelength of a jet engine, and the sound does seem to flicker from time to time.
Of course, it was impossible for a rookie sonar operator who just got assigned here half a year ago to criticize him face to face. Adi put the sampling number of the audio record into the analyzing monitor, and cautiously said,
“However, there is a regular rhythm in the sound we received. This really doesn’t sound like an underground volcano activity. Some submarines amongst the old nuclear submarines would let out such sounds. If we can compare it with HQ’s database…”
The analyzing monitor showed uneven waveforms. Despite the ship database showing a lack of match, there was no guarantee that this was not a sound from the propulsion system of a submarine. At this point, the screw propellers would only be used when navigating on the water surface, and when submerged, the fusion water jet engine that produced less noise would be used. However, a noiseless propeller system technology had already been the subject of research ever since the old centuries, when USA and the Soviet Union were in the midst of their cold war. The sound displayed on the curve was similar in some extents the early silent propulsion system.
Adi probably would have viewed this as a noise created by natural phenomenon if he had not found past records in the library of the submarine school. He continued to increase the intensity level of the sound analyzing monitor, but the sonar operator gave him a sighing voice, “I say, Adi…”
“It’s a good thing to be passionate about your research, and I admit that your ears are very sensitive. However, this isn’t a group activity a student’s doing here. Is it possible for a nuclear submarine in the old times to appear here? It’s true that some certain old century submarines are still in service, but their facilities are already upgraded. Do you feel that anyone will still use those antiques that are shelved outside the ship’s database.”
The sonar operator stood up, got behind the duty crew member, and put his hand on his fat waist. He, who had maintained a nice slim figure when he was young, finally succumbed to the biggest enemy of a submarine crew member, a lack of exercise. What was worse was that the food provided in submarines were the best in the army.
“Listen up, we’re looking for a spaceship here, a spaceship of those Zeon remnants who pulled off this one heck of an acrobatic and fell into the Atlantic Ocean. They definitely injected water inside the ship and submerged underwater. It’s impossible for that ship to make the noise of a water jet engine, and it’s definitely more impossible to make the sound an ancient nuclear engine. You’ll just hear the sound of the ship hull being compressed because of this unexpected submersion, and that should be what you’re looking for. The navy isn’t giving you expensive equipment just to satisfy your own interests.
The words that pressed down on Adi’s head caused him to feel that it was no different from the water pressure pressing down on the ship body. He lowered his dejected face, “Yes” and put on the headphones again. The sonar operator snorted, pulled his stomach in and passed behind the duty crew member to leave the sonar room that could be said to be as cramped as a can of sardines.
The curtain rail that was used as a separation was pulled aside, and the air came flowing into the sonar room from the neighboring command room. Unlike the cramped sonar room, the command room that was 10m wide would often have 10 important crew members ranked below the captain working there. To the Earth Federation Submarine EFS “Bonefish”, this block was basically functioning as a brain. The sonar room that was connected directly to it had to use the sonar sensors equipped inside the ship to act as the ears as far as possible, and report the situation around the ship to the central command. All duties were handled mechanically in rhythm in this 200m long Juneau-class submarine, and this was one of the organs supporting it.
At this point, the submarine was 300m in depth. It was moving at 10 knots per hour as it moved between the African continent and the South American continent. The Atlantic Ocean below the equator continued to search below the wide ocean space approximately 50m below. This belt of mountains underwater in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean was called the Romansh fault zone. As the young crust formed here had some magnetic minerals, it was very difficult for the sonar sensor to detect. If the Neo Zeon spaceship wanted to hide, this would be the most suitable space. The precipitous reefs around the fault were also in the way of the search, but it was imaginable that the enemy would not submerge too deep. Even if they have similar air capacity, the pressure resistance specifications of a spaceship would still be far inferior to a submarine. If they wanted to sink deeper, they would be crushed by the water pressure before their allied forces came to save them.
No, basically, it was worth doubting whether there were forces on Earth that could be considered their ally. It had been three days since they started the search, and the underwater search monitor only showed signs of reefs, and the source of this sound that was detected was the allied ship that was carrying out the search at the same time. The mood in this submarine that was under the normal marine department felt as relaxing as naval training, and the crew all forgot about the tension they had when they started launching. Adi felt that he was quickly losing interest in the source of this unknown sound as he sighed. Beside him, Corporal Genon heard him out and said, “Don’t think too much about it.”
“The sonar operator is an athletic type who became famous for football, so he can’t get along with an academic-based man like you.”
Genon took down the headphones on his ears as he smiled, “But I do feel that it’s not an ancient nuclear submarine as well. There’s no response on the sound screen anyway, so I think you probably heard the sigh of a “Sea Ghost”.”
“A sea ghost?”
“it’s just a rumor. About half a month ago, the SOSUS detected an unknown sound at the Atlantic control branch. At that time, they were wondering if there was a system malfunction…”
The so-called SOSUS was a defense system spread throughout all oceans in the world by using the sonar receptor embedded at the seabed. This system was particularly concentrated at the ports of several constituent countries, and it was not a laughable affair when the SOSUS of the Atlantic near the Federation government capital, Dakar malfunctioned. “Why doesn’t this news get reported?” Adi pointed out.
“Because the system is just titular decorations after the Zeon remnants navy got dispersed. They’re scared that the budget will be cut if they reported this malfunction.”
“Is that so…”
“It seemed that the people from my dad’s time even had a fierce fight with Zeon’s “Mad Anglers”, but currently, it’s impossible for the diving fleet to meet actual battle anyway. Even our “Bonefish” is an old granny of 17 ship years. The navy would have been toast together with the army if not for the consideration of unemployment. In this age, the reason why everyone can live is all because of the space forces.”
“Then why did you join the army?”
“To obey my parents. If the son isn’t serving in the army, the retired officer living off pension will be sent to space. At their age, I don’t want to send them to live in the colony. Aren’t you the same?”
As Genon glanced over at him, “I…” Abi could only mumble as he turned to look at the sonar board. Adi’s father was a NCO in the navy, and without that relationship, there was no way he could have entered the army. Deep inside his heart, he did think that he could continue to remain on Earth as long as he stayed in the navy, but he did not choose to join the navy simply because of self-preservation. He simply loved ships, not the ships flying around in space, but a real ship that moved on the sea.
Due to his father’s occupation, he was often near a base in his youth. Perhaps it was because of this that he loved the sea ever since he was young. Adi always respected his father, who was awarded a shiny dolphin mark that was hung in front of his chest, and the bedtime stories that were told when he was young left him longing for the sea. The singing of the whales that could be detected from the sonar, the beauty of the sea surface at sunset, the mobile suits of Zeon that looked like Krakens', and the suffocating intense battles against enemy submarines—especially at the end of the One Year War, where the great naval battle near the coast of Jaburo, the old headquarters of the Federation army, took place. Adi kept begging his father to keep talking about that story, and he did not know how many times he heard it.
When he was young, Adi hoped to enter the navy when he was young and board a submarine. Despite him becoming distant from his father in his youth like ordinary people, he never lost sight of this aim. He successfully entered naval cadet academy, got more points than what was required to graduate through extra-curriculum studying, and was given the right to be assigned to the “Bonefish”, considered the newest submarine even as the naval fleet’s equipment were stagnated. It was of the same class of submarine as the one Adi’s father rode on in the War, both Juneau-class ship and Adi definitely understood its structure and capabilities as well as the captain. He enthusiastically embarked on his first voyage, but the seas after the war was different from what his father said. It was not a place of adventure.
After two Neo Zeon wars, the Zeon remnants left on Earth were basically swept, and the ones were merely some sporadic terrorist attacks from guerilla forces. Earth did not experience a real large scale war for 5 years. Despite the Neo Zeon forces that were derogatorily called “Sleeves”, the uprisings normally happened in space, and it was completely unrelated to the navy, especially the diving fleet that would only remain underwater.
“I heard that the battle before caused the relic of “Laplace” to be wrecked.”
Genon changed the topic. Adi remembered seeing the debris of that official residence in low orbit through the window when he went on a space camp in primary school. He added on, “Looks that way.”
“They said that the Neo Zeon ship crashed into Earth together with the relic there…those aliens were really persistent.”
Genon gave a wry look as he put the headphone back on to end this idle chat time. That’s right, those aliens have come to our territory. Adi thought about that again as he held onto the headphone tightly. The space forces did not know about the seas, so if a commotion in space is dragged to the sea, we’re the only ones who can respond. Adi mused in his head as he looked back to inspect on the various functions on the console.
He inspected the underwater search monitor that could recreate the situation at the seabed through CG and the sound screen that showed the shape of the target through the active sonar reflected off the bottom of the sea. The main sonars that were installed on the bow and the sides, separated equally, could block off all excessive sounds and concentrate the detected sounds inside the head phones. The excessive sounds here would refer to the machine sounds from the “Bonefish” itself and the fusion water jet engines installed on both sides letting out sounds of sea water being stirred.
The air pressure from Earth to space would actually go from one to zero, but in water, the water pressure would increase according to the depth. Considering that the place was not suited for humans to live in, a seabed of 300m was an isolated zone like space. Even if the enemy spaceship sank into the bottom of the ocean, it was not easy to save it. However, there was a chance that the Zeon remnants had a submarine for rescue. Adi closed his eyes, put his elbow on the console and paid whole attention to listen out for the sound. He pricked his ears upon hearing the water flow that sounded like it was shaking an old pipe, and wanted to identify the enemy presence that was submerged underwater.
The area around the submarine was darkness, where light could not return. If there were windows, it was possible that they would be seeing darkness that was darker than space. Above this place was the ocean surface, sky and space where there were tens of billions living there. What kind of people do the people living in the colonies see us as? Adi gave a wry smile as he suddenly thought about him. He, who remained on Earth, stayed in a large metal tube that was moving at the bottom of the sea. It seemed that the people who moved to the space colonies called Earth as a gravity well, so people like him probably drew the short stick of the gravity well by staying over here—
Gonk! At this moment, the blunt sound of metal knocking into each other rang in Adi’s ears.
The hand that was pressed on the headphone immediately tightened up, and he looked over at Genon beside him. It seemed that the other man heard the same sound too. Adi turned his pale face, worked on the console, pulled out the problematic sounds, corrected them, and stared at the round screen of the sonar radar. Soon, the screen showed an orange light, and a sound beeping alarm rang as it entered Adi’s ears.
There were no matches. It was impossible to detect the propeller noises, but something was approaching gradually from the starboard. The distance was less than 1,000 meters, and an unknown metallic sound continued to ring. Adi only called about taking up the wireless communicator microphone in the ship as he yelled, “COMMAND, THIS IS THE SONAR!”
“Sonar detected, position 132. Target speed estimated at 30 knots.”
The metallic sound that had a mysterious rhythm to it did not stop. As Adi and Genon were carrying out their own identifications, the voices of the captain and the sonar operator rang inside the sonar room. The captain looked skinnier as compared to the sonar operator, and he looked less lively as before due to a recent gastric ulcer surgery. However, to a marine, the captain was still a respected figure, “What do you think that is?” Adi saw the captain lower his head to stare at him, and tensed up as he answered,
“I don’t know. This sounds different from a torpedo tube being opened, but it still does sound metallic. I’m guessing that it’s a machine running…most likely, the sound of an actuator running.”
Adi finished, and he himself felt that this was the case. This deep ringing sound that persisted on did seem similar to a crane or a similarly large machine. The sonar operator said, “This guy’s a rookie, but his ears are sharp.” The captain put the standby headphones over his ears and put his mouth to the nearby wireless communicator microphone. “Command, this is the captain speaking. Get the torpedo crew to position. Head east and prepare room for vessel operations. Increase speed by 10.”
Ting, ding. The speed indicator rang, and as the submarine sped up as it changed its course, the inertia that was caused started to act on the bodies. The sonar operator put his hands on Adi’s to support himself, and it seemed that he was praising the rookie for responding quickly. The competing sense of delight and tension rose in him as he looked tense while operating on the console, “Target’s increasing in speed!” but was shocked by Genon’s called.
“Distance at 800. Coming right at us!”
The flickering on the radar was quickly approaching the circle. It went passed 40 knots, the fastest speed a Juneau-class could move in water. The captain with an obvious black-ethnic blood immediately turned pale and commanded to the wireless communicator. “Command, increase speed by 10 again. Go full throttle.” At the same time, the sonar operator yelled “Hit the piner!” and Adi immediately pressed the active sonar on the console.
KONG!A shrill sound spread through the speakers, rocking the ship body of the “Bonefish”. The reflected waves bounced through the machine 4 times faster than it was in air, and the target silhouette appeared on the sound screen. One could feel that everyone present gasped.
As both sides were basically maintaining the same height, the shape of that thing was definitely how it looked from the front. However, the target’s silhouette was extremely abnormal. It was shaped like a flat rhombus, its longest length was 80m long, and its height was more than 30m tall. Looking at its shape, it was most definitely not a submarine, or rather, it was far from an ideal submarine. Also, the target was changing shapes from time to time as it approached the submarine underwater at a high speed.
“Is that the sea ghost…?”
The captain mused. The object continued to approach with its propeller system still silent, charging right at the starboard of the “Bonefish” that turned back. It doesn’t have a fusion water jet engine, so why it is able to move so freely in the sea? Adi’s mind went blank as the sonar operator pushed him aside to work on the sonar board. “60! It’ll crash into us directly!” he warned. “Emergency evasion…” the captain ordered in the wireless communicator, “Too late!” but Genon yelled louder as the sudden feeling of death that came caused Adi’s body to stiffen.
I’ll die in such a place. I haven’t done anything yet. I’m not as active as dad, and I never experienced such adventures. The sunsets, whale songs, everything, I haven’t experienced—
“IMPACT!”
The captain’s voice that sounded like a scream rang in the ears. Then, the sound of metal being ripped echoed through the ship, and Adi was thrown off the ship.
Genon too was knocked aside, and the captain and sonar operator had their backs crashed into the wall. The alarm rang, the lights were flickering, and Adi heard the sound of the ship being crushed. A large amount of seawater was rushing in through the ripped shape, and the hull where up and down could not be identified continued to sink. The sea ghost that bared its sea monster-like fangs gnawed the entire submarine to shreds—and Adi’s consciousness faded as he swallowed the fear his father never experienced.
The ‘claw’ that penetrated through the rubber-like sound-absorbing material cut a hole through the belly of the submarine and pulled it out.
The high pressure of air inside the ballast tanks spurted out of the crack, and the “Bonefish” was surrounded by the forceful air bubbles. The seawater replaced the air as it flowed in, tilting the submarine to the right, and the buoyancy was completely negated as the “Bonefish” sank to the bottom of the sea. The hull hit the seabed violently, and before the dust of the reefs being scattered spread in the sea, the object nicknamed the sea ghost started to float slowly.
The unit had 3 sharp claws on its pair of arms—or rather, forelegs, and they bend back with the sound of the actuator ringing. The part that was installed at the base of the arms were arched shaped armor that looked like shells, and from the front, its silhouette looked like a flattened rhombus, but it was merely a small part of this complicated model. The gigantic arms and narrow streamlined body made its mechanical silhouette look like a crustacean residing in the sea, while the rear end of the body looked like a hermit crab that was much larger in volume than the body. Looking down from above, its front end had the form of a spade, and it was reminiscent of a raptor. The part that looked like a head had a crack on it, and one could see a brightly glowing ‘eye’ inside.
The mono-eye sensor that was first developed by the old Principality of Zeon flickered, and the air bubbles carried its back that was giving off air bubbles as it started to leave the bottom of the seabed that was in eternal darkness. Its arms turned behind, overlapping with the armor on its shoulders, and changed its form. The arms turned behind, shelved in with the shoulders armors. It changed its form to become a completely streamlined body, but the form itself showed no sense of submersion at all. It was possible to find such machines that were shaped like monsters in this Minovsky Particle era of weapons, weapons that were half similar to a mobile suit—mobile armors. The AMA-X7 “Shamblo” flipped over its large body that looked like a kraken as it moved amidst the high pressure of the deep sea. The Magneto Hydro Dynamics (MHD) units installed within its shoulder armor continued to let out a different noise from the fusion water jet engine as it changed its course horizontally at a depth of around 100m.
Unlike mobile suits that were fixed to be humanoid mobile weapons, mobile armors were not fixed in shape. As long as it could satisfy its original purpose, the size of it did not matter, and the limbs that controlled the unit’s mobility need not be limited to limbs alone. The “Shamblo” itself was no exception, and in fact, it looked like a submarine that had arms for combat, but the unique trait was that only a few pilots were needed to operate this, unlike a submarine that required many people. There was a cockpit block with a linear structure in the middle of this unit that could be considered a motor fortress—and over there, one could see Mahdi Garvey seated on the captain seat, looking down at the CG corrected seabed image.
There was a wide space akin to that of a shuttle control room in this cockpit, and there was a wall of screen right at the front. There were three operating seats in front of the screen, one to operate, one to detect, and one to defend. The captain’s seat controlled the attacks, and there was a very large and high space behind the cockpit. Of course, the captain’s seat could control everything in this system when things were critical.
The screen replicated the scenes in the sea through the combined information obtained from the nightvision cameras and the sonar, and the enemy submarine that was sunk was giving of air bubbles and floating materials that scattered everyone. Walid and Abbas, 2 young men that were old enough to have beards, were seated on the operating and detection seats respectively as they stared at that scene. The only female, Loni was seated on the defense seat as she continued to stare at the screen. Mahdi saw that her delicate shoulders were tensed up, “Are you scared, Loni?” and asked her from the behind the console of the captain’s seat. The light brown face covered by the helmet visor turned around, “Yes, father.” and Loni’s black eyes looked anxious as she answered.
“That’s good. Those who aren’t willing to show emotions will not be able to handle things coolly when something unexpected happens. Abbas, Walid, watch carefully too. We just killed more than 200 enemies. There’ll be more bloodshed after this, so don’t you look away from the corpses of the enemies.
“Yes.” Abbas and Walid answered in unison as they stared at the blood and entrails. As according to customs that lasted since ancient times, Madhi had many wives and many concubines, and the 3 people in front of him at this point had the purest of bloodline in the Garvey family. Madhi really wanted to let his deceased father, who was unable to see the faces of his grandchildren, everything, including the first results of the “Shamblo”. Fear and excitement continued to make him feel this way originally, but he immediately changed his mind soon. He thought about how it would not be long before he meets his father, and his beard that had some white hairs in it curled up above his mouth.
It had been more than 6 years since he inherited the inheritance from the First Neo Zeon war and started to build this “Shamblo”. Looking at the remnants of the submarine that sank in front of their eyes, the Earth Federation army would know that the sea ghost was not a mere illusion. Those people would understand immediately that this so-called thing would create a more direct threat to them. The dormant period had ended, and the time to take action had finally arrived. After the several battles in space, the “Box” fell onto Earth—and they were fighting for this “Box” that could topple the Federation government.
However, it was still unknown where the Neo Zeon ship that had the “Box” went. It had been 3 days since they received the report, and Madhi searched around the ocean where they could have possibly crashed into, but there were still no results. He turned his eyes on the seabed search monitor that showed the bits of the enemy submarine that were swimming about. Abbas, who was seated on the central control seat, said, “The “Sleeves” Heavy Lift Vehicles will fall onto Earth immediately, and interrupted with a steady voice befitting that of the eldest son.
“I heard that the “Garencieres” entered the atmosphere in the middle of battle. Is it possible that it broke up in air or split into pieces when it landed in the water?”
“Zinnerman won’t make that mistake. But it’s possible that they went slightly off course and was forced to land in the desert…”
He met the captain of this cargo ship in question, Suberoa Zinnerman once. They had different beliefs, and Madhi felt that the other man was a warrior, but in the end, he felt that the simple truth was that the fate of humans was in God’s hands. The time that was set at Greenwich Standard indicated 6:40 am. After checking the time, Madhi checked the time it would take to reach the HLV reclamation point, decided that it was time to pack up, and lifted his head from the console.
“Can’t be helped. We’ll pause our search for the “Garencieres” for the time being. New course, position 020. Let’s go retake the “Sleeves” HLV.”
His three children repeated this command as they worked on their respective consoles. The MHDs propellers on the shoulders absorbed seawater, and the large body of the “Shamblo” tilted slightly.
The slits on the shoulders took in seawater, and the powerful magnetic field created by the superconductive coil triggered the tube-shaped propellers that would absorb seawater and shoot it backwards in an accelerated manner. The MHD was the earliest system that was developed amongst the silent propulsion systems, but it was soon forgotten because of the similarly silent fusion water jet engines that were becoming commonplace as it lacked output. For a large mobile armor like the “Shamblo” that completely abandoned hydromechanics with its exterior, this was still insufficient, and there was a completely different engine in it.
The machine that was like a large ray quickly spun rode on the water flow raised by the MHD propulsion system, and tilted its slanted position back horizontally. The Minovsky particle spaceship engines that were hidden inside the arms were installations used when a spaceship moved under gravity. It could scatter Minovsky particles regularly and create I-fields to let the object float. The engines the “Shamblo” had were considered amongst the newest amongst the Minovsky era crafts that were becoming smaller, and the seawater that was ionized by the I-field would become the ‘protective layer’, greatly reducing the resistance when diving in the water. This was the result from the Neo Zeon development plans and the Garvey Enterprises developing this. In fact, the expenses for producing a “Shamblo” alone was enough to build a solar generator that could power three basic industries.
However, this was worth it. The “Shamblo” that obtained the power of the Minovsky Craft system would show its real value once it landed. He sat in this cockpit that would not shake, checked that the functions of the “Shamblo” were perfect, and said as if he was muttering to himself, “In the worst case scenario, even if we can’t find the “Garencieres”, there will still be a way.”
“Things are moving. The fact that Full Frontal, who remained completely silent before this is hurriedly sending reinforcements over here is the best proof. Also, with this “Shamblo”, I can look forward to settling the hundred years of grudge as a “descendant of Dubai”…”
Loni merely moved her head slightly as the three children did not say anything. They bore the tragic fate of their race and the power to topple the current situation. Madhi stared at the backs of the trio and looked over at the sea surface that was rippling 100m above. The CG corrected screen showed the sea surface, radiating with what he believed to be a Holy light, indicating for sure that Allah existed, and seemed to be blessing the “Shamblo” that managed to succeed in its first battle.
The large body of the “Shamblo” continued to move in the water as it shook the Neo Zeon medal that was a mere formality. The weak propulsion sound was not detected by the sonar’s eyes as the machine disappeared deep within the veil of the thick seawater.
“It sank?”
Ronan Marcenas could not help but parrot the other person’s words as he lifted his head from the documents he read halfway. “Yes.” Patrick answered as he put the readied information onto the table.
“Vice Admiral Ted privately contacted us. The rescue team is currently sent to the water site, but the chances of the crew surviving are despairingly slim…”
It seemed that Patrick’s words tailed off weakly not just because he was feeling compassionate about the submarine that was sunk. Ever since the Neo Zeon ship that took in the “Unicorn” dropped onto Earth, Patrick had been busy running around the area where he was contesting for elections, and had to become the relay man between the Senate Council that included Ronan, and the Central Intelligence Branch. Ronan looked away from his anxious looking son-in-law as he picked up the information that had the works for internal use and quickly browsed through it.
The EFS “Bonefish” last sent a distress signal at the Atlantic Ocean, and lost signal after that. It was not hard to imagine that the military vessel that went to search for a Neo Zeon ship made contact with a Zeon remnant that was looking for the same target, and was sunk before it could fight back. Ronan looked at the crew list that had no purpose other than to act as a list of names, and muttered deep within his heart, Are these martyrs for the “Box”? He then took off his reading glasses and put aside the stacked information. This is retribution for dealing with the unemployment issue so carelessly, huh?”, he mused as he turned his chair to the window behind him. The office that retained light extremely well in this residence was basked in the midst of the scorching afternoon sunlight.
“The Minovsky particles jamming the sensors aren’t the cause of this incident. After the war ended, the reason why no one went to repair the surveillance network destroyed by Zeon was because people wanted to leave the surveillance job to the Earth military. That’s why it’s so troublesome to search for a ship that dropped onto Earth. Even if the remnant army managed to build up their forces, the current situation is such that the military is unable to grasp information about them. There’s no need to let people waste their lives like this if the surveillance satellites of the same level as before the war are still functioning in the first place…”
Patrick showed neither affirmation nor negation as he turned his face to Ronan. It was no wonder, as Ronan’s era was the one that established this system, while his era would be the one forced to pay the price. Ronan rubbed his eyes and held his sigh in forcefully as he looked back at Patrick with an appropriate look to his first secretary, and said, “Then, how are things proceeding?” Patrick took out the other information tucked under his armpit and spoke,
“I sieved through the namelist the vice-admiral handed over. This one should be most suitable.”
Ronan put on his glasses as he glanced at the information with the data. “Commander of Londo Bell, Captain Bright Noa…” he read as he looked up at Patrick, “So he came down to Earth?”
“He rode on the “Ra Cailum” to the Far East in order to test the newly equipped Minovsky Craft. This man is a commander, but he is also acting as a captain at the same time. I suppose it’s because he is a man who’s born to be on a ship, and I do find him a serious and upright person.”
“This man is stubborn. You’ve at least heard of his name, right?”
“Of course. To a young man like me, he’s a hero in the past anyway. I was engrossed when I read about the “Battle records of White Base.”
“The legend that time caused misunderstandings about him, and he was excluded from the mainstream military. The higher ups thought that he had thoughts of rebelling…to put it simply, they suspect him as a Newtype. After that, the Senate Council seemed like it had intentions of pulling him out, but he was merely satisfied with acting as commander of Londo Bell from the sidelines. Well, he’s not a man suited for politics.”
Ronan spoke of what he saw on the surface, “Can you rein him in?” and gave a probing look. Patrick did not avoid his father-in-law’s stare as he answered,
“That “Nahel Argama” belongs to Londo Bell. It had been severed from contact with the command of Londo Bell ever since the ship was loaned out to the Senate Council. To a man like Captain Bright, he will be tense over being unable to contact a ship under his command, let alone knowing that the ship is involved with the previous terrorist attacks.”
There’s hope if we go in from there, Ronan felt somewhat chilly in his heart as he saw Patrick’s face indicate this as such. He imagined how this man who was known for his sportsmanship, was gradually being dyed in the color of politics, and felt both reliable and guilty. He took off his reading glasses and gave the other man a serious look, “Is the “Nahel Argama” stuck in its orbit?”
“it’s the doing of the Vist Foundation. The crew on the “Nahel Argama” are directly involved in these incidents. If they come out to testify, the allies supporting the Foundation will be in danger.”
“In other words, if they’re still in the hands of the Senate Council, we have nothing to sue the Foundation with. Also, the Earth military searching the “Sleeves” are under the Foundation’s watch. We need to get a pawn here. This pawn must have a sharp mind and must know how to deal with complicated situations.
Ronan stared over at the photo of Captain Bright which looked resilient and upright, and tapped his index finger on the table. After about 3 seconds, he made his decision and put the stack of information into the drawer, saying, “Help me arrange a meeting with him.”
“Looking at how we can’t survive without the tension of war, the Earth military is more reliant than the space military. The news that Mineva Zabi accepted our protection has probably reached the Foundation’s ears. You have to proceed cautiously.”
“Alright. Meet in Dakar?”
“No, this place is good. Make it quick. I can’t leave Dakar for too long.”
It would take slightly more than 2 hours to fly from Atlanta to Dakar if he rode on the Hypersonice Transport (HST). He could return back immediately if he wanted to, but he did not want to talk about measures to be taken against the “Box” at the Parliament where the reporters would work in shifts and patrol there. He saw his first secretary nod his head, turned around, and wanted to look away, but recalled something as he called out to the other man facing away from him, “Patrick.” The son-in-law seemed like he detected the slight change in tone as he turned his face around and looked over his own shoulder.
“…Eh, are you still on good terms with Cynthia?”
Ronan sensed that his words at this point seemed hollow as compared to before, but he could not help but continue his words fluently. Cynthia did not know that the person called Audrey Burne was Mineva Zabi herself, and she was completely locked out of the loop in this battle for the Box”, but there was no reason why the very instinctive daughter of the Marcenas family would not detect the heinous air inside and outside the family. Ronan did hear from the butler Dwiyon secretly that Cynthia was feeling more and more frustrated with Patrick for being unwilling to say anything, and a cold wind was blowing amidst their relationship.
Patrick showed a somewhat unexpected look, “Please don’t worry.” and answered as he relaxed his mouth. That delicate smile showed a concern for the father-in-law, and also looked like it was teasing a man who was clumsy when it came to domestic affairs.
“She is becoming a little nervous, but she is an adult. It seems that she’s getting along well with Miss Mineva…Audrey too.”
“Really?”
“But please find a chance to explain to her. She’s a member of the Marcenas’ family after all.”
I’m just an outsider after all these words that came out of left field entered Ronan’s unprepared heart, and Patrick left the office. This would be the fate of a man who did not care about his family, doing something he was not used to doing. He endured the pain that crept into his chest, pushed back the leather chair and got up. He stood at the window and looked at the courtyard where the sun shone down on.
The Dogwood trees that surrounded the residence were growing light pink flowers. The Late April of Southern USA accepted summer faster than the Northern Hemisphere. The greenness got thicker, and Ronan, who was fascinated by this scene under the shining sun, heard the sound of the horse galloping far away , and looked over there. He saw the horse rushing through the Dogwood.
He recognized that the hands holding onto the reins belonged to Riddhe, who had his legs tucked tightly around the horse’s abdomen, and he lowered himself such that his chest nearly touched the horse’s neck. The face that became one with the horse appeared and vanished between the gaps of the trees. He critiqued the school’s British horse-riding the school taught as boring, learnt Western horse-riding on his own, and did not look elegant at this point. He looked very different from the high class people, and was racing as if he wanted to be primitive like the horse, but his flowing blond hair was so beautiful it throbbed in Ronan’s heart, who watched his son ride on the horse until he disappeared. His hair color looked like golden flames that were bursting with all sorts of emotions in his heart—
However, there was a tinge of dark shadow on his back. He managed to remain oblivious to the truth until a few days ago, but after knowing how fragile the base supporting this world was, he looked like he was racing on the horse while trying to shake off the shadow on him. But no matter how he dashed, those things could not be shaken away. Whether it was the truth about the “Laplace Box” or the destiny that await the Marcenas family, Riddhe could only view them as part of him and try to accept it as he continued. Ronan sighed deeply as he turned his back against the window. He could not shake off the galloping sound he once heard as it remained in his extremely unhappy body.
She heard before that there were no animals that were more sensitive to human emotions than horses. If the person on the saddle was filled with vigor, the horse would be willing to listen to the command; if the rider showed any fear, the horse would look down on the rider. It seemed that the horse could detect even a bluff as it would suddenly stop and move at times and do disobedient things to the rider. As its appearance showed, a horse was probably a very proud living creature.
At this point, this horse that was racing definitely understood its rider’s feelings. This Anglo Arabic horse let its pitch black mane sway as it ran around the outskirts of the wide courtyard, seemingly becoming one with Riddhe Marcenas. Even if someone stood on the terrace and looked down, that person could sense how the duo became one, and Mineva Zabi felt amazed by this. That horse looked like it really trusted Riddhe, or it would not be racing so quickly like that.
However, it was a little saddening to see it like that. The rider looked like he wanted to vent all the frustrations he accumulated for a long time as he was forced to pick up the reins, and the horse that felt its rider’s emotions looked somewhat fearful. The rider wanted to run away from something he could not shake off no matter what he did, and the horse looked like it was racing with fire burning on it…would its feet not be burned if it raced like that?
As Mineva thought, she subconsciously thought of poking her body out from the parapet of the terrace, and sensed someone behind her. Cynthia Marcenas appeared as she stood at the glass door that was pushed aside, and she met Mineva in the eyes as she said, “Its name is Pligrim, a horse Riddhe’s been taking care for a while.” She showed a smile that had no other intention as she strolled over while her blond hair fluttered. Mineva felt somewhat guilty in her heart as she avoided the stare of the other person.
“It’s not a horse that’s easy to tame, but for some reason, it’s extremely close to Riddhe. If I want to ride on it, it’ll definitely look away first. However, it’s been 3 years since that child left the house.”
Cynthia stood beside her and looked over, “How about you try to ride on it?” it was obvious from her stare that she was trying to test. “No thanks…” Mineva answered as she looked back at the courtyard.
Mineva remembered that when she was young, during the time when the Neo Zeon space fortress “Axis” was still around, she had some beginner lessons on horse riding at a colony somewhere. It was too awkward to see the regent and her people look at her worriedly, and she once rode on a horse and sprinted off without listening to advice. However, she did not think that she could ride on that horse in her current state of mind. Even if she asked Riddhe to help her hold the reins, it would only bother the horse that would be carrying 2 people. Cynthia looked down at Riddhe that was riding on the horse, “He’s really a useless child.” She sighed as she mused, and Mineva did not feel comfortable hearing this.
“He’s always been like this in the past, always unable to hide what he was thinking, and never cared about the people around him when he put his mind to him. He’s already everywhere at once, but he’s attracted to small details for some reason, so he’ll always bear everything by himself alone.”
This is really a rather accurate correct analysis. Mineva felt impressed that Riddhe’s relative was able to see through him so thoroughly, but felt a little depressed as she thought about how she had not been talking to Riddhe during this while, and looked away to the sky.
It had been 3 days since the time she first stayed at the Marcenas’ residence. Riddhe was often not home as he had to deal with the repairs of the “Delta Plus” that was left at base and other things, so she did not have the chance to talk to him, while Ronan and Patrick would constantly avoid her. The ones who would meet her were Cynthia and Dwiyon, and it was obvious that the men with status were unwilling to meet her. Cynthia too detected this unnatural atmosphere—but to her, the girl should be the source of this strange phenomenon. Mineva thought about this, felt that the sunlight that could shine in her became uncomfortable, and lowered her face.
I just want to leave this place, she thought. I can’t do anything even if I stay here. Will I merely be imprisoned here as Audrey Burne and become a diplomatic card to be used in the future? Or will I feel the unknown attraction on my skin just like that night we had the party…
“Our family is like this, so it’s kind of hard to relax…but I hope that you’ll watch over Riddhe. I suppose that guy will recover to who he is normally after a while.”
Mineva’s shoulder that was touched shuddered slightly, and she recovered from her thoughts. Cynthia showed an understanding smile of one of the same gender before leaving the terrace. So being attentive to small details is a trait in the family? She watched the back profile of the calm and carefree adult leave as she felt miserable and grateful, muttering inside her heart that it would be great if that were really the case. However, Cynthia’s guess would most likely be wrong, as her view about anomaly in Riddhe’s heart being a one-time change was just a hopeful expectation. He, who was gradually changing, was suffering over it. It was because Mineva was an outsider who need not be responsible for this—or rather, she was the one who bore his emotions that flowed—that she was able to see the change in Riddhe most clearly.
But at this point, Mineva could not tell what kind of emotions Riddhe was experiencing. She sighed and looked up at the blue sky where the clouds were gathered. She heard from the news that there seemed to be a battle in low orbit on the other end of the sky. If that battle triggered the recent commotion, is there a Neo Zeon vessel entering Earth? What’s the situation with the “Garencieres” now? What about the “Nahel Argama”, “Unicorn” and Banagher?
She continued to remain in where she was even as events were progressing at every moment. Mineva closed her mouth as she felt anxious and wanted to shout out. Riddhe’s shouts as he raced on the horse echoed through the echo, and the galloping filled with his anger vented on the ground passed deep into her body and soul.”
The scorching sun continued to light the sky from above as it was so hot it seemed like noises would be made. The sunlight, which should be appropriately called heat rays, shone on a burning hot desert that stretched to a distant horizon.
The temperature was 42 degrees Celsius, and the hot air that blew by combined with the sunlight to rob the dry and hot skin of any moisture it had left. At this point, the sun had risen directly above them, and it was hard to find anything that could be used as a shade. Suberoa Zinnerman continued to peel the skin that was dry because of the sunburn, and looked up at the sand dune right in front of his eyes. The bow of the ship glittered under the sunlight’s reflection, and one could see the “Garencieres” buried under the dune.
“Sure looks like it was buried deep. We’ll be able to hide from the eyes of the surveillance satellites, so I suppose you can say that it’s good in some way…”
Flaste Schole said this as he reached his hand out to the exterior of the ship, “HOT!” and immediately pulled back his hand. It had been 3 days since they went off their estimated course and landed in Western Sahara of Africa. The result of trying to make the ship land on its belly was that the “Garencieres” ended up sliding in the desert by several kilometers and was dived into the sand dunes. There were two sandstorms after this, and it was buried under the sand. The bow and a part of the broadside lying horizontally were the only parts exposed, while the rear hatch of the aft was buried under several tons of sand. There were 3 main thrusters, and one of them had its nozzle exposed from the dune, but it looked like a mere rock amongst the rocks scattered in the desert. It was very likely that nobody would notice a cargo spaceship buried in the desert unless they analyzed the satellite visuals intently.
Like the rockets that were launched into space, the “Garencieres” landed in a vertical manner under gravity. Once it flipped onto the floor, it was no different from a tortoise with its legs facing up, and had no chance of changing its position on its own, let alone leave the land and fly. Basically, there was no way to move away other than to move this large amount of sand that was piled up, and they only managed to dig out the airlocks through manual labor. It was really impossible to drag out the cargo hangar at the aft of the ship if they lacked the assistance of a large machine. The rear hatch at the belly of this triangular ship was already more than 20m long, and at this point, the sand could only end up piled on it in a slope.
Besides, we’re surrounded in all corners. Zinnerman again understood the seriousness of the situation itself as he put the brim of the captain’s hat to eye level. Flaste looked over at the exterior of the broadside that was hot enough to cook an egg as he grumbled, “It’ll be great if the starboard can face up.”
“In that case, we’ll be able to use the unloading hatch on the side. We can’t do anything now that the hatch at the back is buried in sand. A mobile suit can get out if we shoot a beam from inside…”
“But the “Garencieres” will really meet its end. Let’s just treat it as a final resort.”
Zinnerman lifted his head as he drank the water inside the bottle, unwilling to talk about this topic again. The desert was not a suitable place for discussions, and the sweat that flowed out started to evaporate afterwards. The dust-like fine sand would enter all corners as long as there were openings. It would cause the machines to malfunction and wear people out physically and mentally—Flaste was extremely familiar with the terror and troubles it would bring as he once had to survive in Africa during the One Year War. As all the crew was hiding inside the tilted ship in this bright sunny day, Flaste exposed himself to this scorching weather, and he was definitely recalling his memories that time. There’s no time to hesitate now. We have to decide if we should go with our last resort.
He could only see sand, sand and more sand around him. The Sahara Desert that occupied 40 percent of the African continent was 13 million square kilometers in total area, and the largest desert in the world. The average temperature here was above 30 degrees Celsius, and the annual rainfall was less than 200mm. if anyone were to take off their clothes because of the heat, they would be burned red immediately and incur contagious skin diseases. In late April, temperatures could rise to above 40 degrees Celsius, and this place would become an actual burning hell. However, this was a result of the abnormal weather conditions causing global warming to be accelerated after colonies were sent crashing to Earth, prompting the desertification of Earth. Despite all these, one thing that never changed since the old ages was that temperatures would drop drastically after sunset, and at night, there would be icy cold winds that could freeze people to death.
The cruelest thing about this was that this wide open place encouraged people to think that they could walk through a desert if they wanted to. A lot of desert victims were bothered by such mirages as they ended up moving around their point of accident, and finally ended up as dried up corpses in the wilderness. The dunes would move according to the winds, and the desert that would change the landscape as well was an overly cruel world where humans had to survive with their own power. While there was the advantage of not being spotted if they remained here, the chances of them being spotted by their allies would be marginally slim.
Thus, the desert became a hidden nest for Zeon remnants on Earth, and a few guerilla organizations set up base here to this day, but nobody knew how long it would take before they discovered the “Garencieres”. They did report beforehand when they passed through the atmosphere, but their estimated course was the Atlantic. It would probably be a few days later before they realized that the “Garencieres” went off course and landed in the desert several thousand kilometers away from the estimated point.
The forced landing caused the wireless satellite device to be faulty. The only thing left was the wireless communicator of the mobile suits in the ship, but the range couldn't exceed the horizon. The emergency distress call sender machine was still alright, but it was not practical to try it as they could not guess which side would detect the signal first, the enemies or the allies.
Since this ship had the key to opening the “Laplace Box”, the Federation army would logically search around the area with all its efforts. In contrast, the Zeon remnants who hardly had enough resources probably would not be able to afford a large search party. “It’s almost impossible to repair the wireless satellite device if we don’t swap the entire thing.” Flaste said as he gave a look firmly believing that there was no time to hesitate.
“It’s a good thing that we have ample water and food, but we can’t just stay here all the time. We’ll be detected by the enemy if we don’t contact our side. Tomura just said that he heard the sound of a plane flying above us.”
Flaste looked up at the thing layer of clouds floating in the air, and took a gulp of water. Once they finished their search in the Atlantic Ocean, quite a few surveillance satellites would turn to look at the desert. Zinnerman blew out air from his nose as he answered,
“Looking at the map, we’ll see an oasis if we move 60km to the east. There’s a town called Atal over there, and we should be able to contact with someone over there. We’ll reach there quickly if we ride on a mobile suit.”
“That’s true…”
“Kwani’s unit still needs repairs, but Ivan’s “Geara Zulu” can be used. Even if we have to blow the ship to scraps—”
“You forgot one other machine.”
Zinnerman spoke up to interrupt. Eh? Flaste blinked his eyes and immediately gave a recalling look, only to give a wry look as he answered, “We can’t possibly depend on the “Unicorn” here.”
“I let the maintenance crew inspect through, and they said that they can’t remove the pilot’s biometric authentication. The pilot’s like that as well…”
Flaste pointed his chin at the entry hatch that was approximately 50m away. One could see Banagher Links covered with a sunshade cloth behind the dune piled up at the door, curled up there. Banagher did not detect the stares from Flaste and company as his gloomy-looking face kept staring at the sandy ground of nothingness. It was really hard to determine that he was a living person if nobody said that he was alive, and he was the same as when he was dragged out of the “Unicorn Gundam” cockpit, not seeing anything in his eyes—
He looked like he was fatigued, a common symptom amongst recruits, but the medical officer said that it was not the case after inspection. His mind was overly fatigued, but his body was completely healthy, and he had no problems with his meals and other usual living conditions. However, he had no sense of will to live on by himself, and he would not ingest food if it was not prepared. If he was left alone, he would just sit around blankly for the entire day. It would be more appropriate to describe his symptoms as being very feeble instead of forcing himself not to live, and it was rather similar to those old-aged people that would give up easily. He made himself devoid of all sorts of concerns to seal his heart and soul, and he did not know that he was in a decline. This would be considered a subconscious self-neglect.
There were no effects no matter what they did, whether they tried to threaten him or please him; he would not resist, but he would not show any form of will on his own. He disappeared before they knew it, and would just spend the day spacing out. It had been more than 2 weeks since he was involved in the “Industrial 7” incident, and perhaps the stress that was built up within him during this period had finally reached its breaking point. However, the crew could only feel extremely irked that this brat, who was not even a prisoner, was just wandering around lifelessly even as they were forced to make a decision of life and death. Flaste looked like he felt the same as well as he added with a vexing line, “Such a bother.”
“Even if the “Laplace Program” shows a new coordinate, we can’t make the next move if the “Unicorn” can’t move. We can tie the brat in and let the other mobile suits move it, but the coordinates are a troublesome thing here.”
Flaste took out the paper with the new coordinates from his clutches as he continued to grumble, seemingly feeling that there was no point to look at it any further. Zinnerman did not raise any objections here. A seal of the “Laplace Program” was undone after the activation of the NT-D the last time, but the coordinates given this time felt like a joke. It was a place that nobody with a weak resolve could enter just like the last time, and in this sense, the hurdle here would not be something the relics of “Laplace” could match. Flaste folded the printed paper into a paper airplane, pinched it with his fingertips, “What’s that and what’s that, really?” and threw it away.
“We keep opening, and we see a new box inside it…are we being fooled by Cardeas Vist here?”
Despite only saying this as a joke, his eyes were filled with intense anger. Either way, there’s no way Gilboa and the other men who died could rest in peace if they did not find out the truth. Do we wait for aid that might not come here, or do we wreck the ship and find aid— Zinnerman felt that there was only one option here in his heart as he looked at the direction the paper plane Flaste threw floated to. The plane that did not ride on the wind lost speed after flying for less than 10m, and fell onto the burning hot sand.
The fluttering sound of the paper amidst the sound of the wind moved the eardrums. Banagher Links lifted his head slightly as he looked over at where the sound came from.
It was a paper plane, half buried by the reddish brown sand. The plane got blown by the wind as its wings rustled, and gradually moved out of sight. Banagher had recently seen something similar, the paper plane Tikva once threw in the dusty town in “Palau”… no, it looked more like a glider. As he carelessly thought about that, a sharp shock passed through Banagher’s body, and he exerted more strength into his arms that were holding his legs in.
You killed him. You killed Gilboa, Tikva’s father. He had no intention of attacking, and you simply shot him. Tikva’s pitiful for not having a father now. You and him have no fathers. You killed him, and you killed a lot a people—these words passed through his mind in the form of this shock, You’re the seed of disaster, overlapping with the words Alberto said, and the body that was curled up in this scorching hot weather cooled off. The weather was so hot, and yet his body felt cold inside. His stomach felt tense, as if someone threw a lead block inside. What am I doing? Nobody needs me, even I don’t need myself, so why must I stay curled up here?
The sunshade cloth was draped over his head, and he turned his eyes to the endless desert, but the blue sky that covered the faded land looked dark, perhaps because the sunlight was too bright, distorting his sight. Why is it that a light source from one point can light everything? Banagher, who grew up in colonies, looked up at the inexplicable sun, and then looked at the land of sand right on this unknown planet. We can just run through this desert,Banagher thought. The sunlight can burn the skin, blood my head, dry up all the fluids in my body, and I’ll just become dust. Even the lead in my stomach and this cursed family blood of mine will be burnt to nothing. If I can do that, the “Unicorn” will never move again, the “Gundam” won’t awaken again; I won’t have to kill others, I won’t be killed, and the “Laplace Box” will be sealed forever—
And then what? The abnormally cold voice interrupted to end the delusions. The impulse that rose in Banagher’s body quickly wilted as fatigue struck his mind. He found it difficult to think, curled back his body without doing anything and became a stone block like before. This place is really the bottom of a gravity well, Banagher admitted. His body and mind were tied to the bottom, so heavy that they were unable to move at all. Space felt so distant, and his soul was the only thing melting from his crouched body that was like dust. This is a one and only cog that can make decisions on its own. Don’t lose it—Mr Daguza did say it. I don’t want to lose it, I lost it unwillingly, but I really can’t hang on now. If I try to put it on, my body will break apart. I just want to sit here without thinking and without asking for anything. I’ll keep sitting until my heart melts completely…
A shadow crept up to him, and his sights became dark. The ends of the boots that were dirtied by sand appeared in a corner of Banagher’s eyes, and he moved his blank eyeballs.
Zinnerman was standing there. His hulking figure was standing there angrily “Stand up.” as he growled with a deep voice. Banagher immediately lost interest in the person who arrived, and immediately lowered his sight.
“There’s a town 60km away. I’m going to walk there and get help, and you’re coming with me.”
Are you kidding me? a slight electrical flow passed through Banagher’s mind as he lifted his eyes again. He saw the bearded face that was not smiling, and lazily looked down again. At this moment, Zinnerman’s hand grabbed him by the torso, and the body, which had its center of gravity at the back, was immediately dragged off the floor.
“How long are you going to mope around here!?” The angry words roared into Banagher’s ears as the sand fell from his limp swaying body. His feet would not listen as his body was supported by hand grabbing him by the chest. However, Zinnerman’s hand that was holding this weight showed no signs of shaking at all.
“We’ll leave after sunset. Get into the ship immediately. We need to prepare a lot of things if we want to pass through the desert.”
Banagher was suddenly pushed down as he landed on his backside. The feeling of the unexpectedly hard sand rocked his mind, why? and he wanted to say this, but the voice was stuck in his throat as he was unable to speak up. “Ah?” he avoided Zinnerman’s intimidating stare as he squeezed out a hoarse voice, “Why look for me?”
“Because you look like you’re the most idle.”
“That’s too reckless. How are we to walk across the desert?”
“I once served in Africa during the wars, so I more or less know about the desert. It can work.”
“Hey, get up.” Zinnerman said that as he grabbed Banagher by the chest. Banagher felt the sharp pain from the cramped muscles and wanted to cry out as he only cared about looking back, saying, “Please stop…!”
“Let me alone. I had enough. I don’t want to be involved with anyone else. I don’t want to be made use of.”
“Fat hope. Fulfill your duty as a pilot.”
“Duty? I did my duty. I rode on the mobile suit and sank a Neo Zeon terrorist. Is that not enough? How many more much I kill?”
Only this time did Banagher look right at Zinnerman in the eyes and spoke directly to him. What duty and responsibility? It ended up like this after I listened to those words. As he thought about how he would not be fooled again and intended to stand on his feet, a blunt sound rang in his mind as his world exploded.
The body that was punched aside landed hard onto the floor, and the burning hot taste of sand spread in his mouth. The face that was buried in the sand started to ache, and Banagher’s body was trembling as he heard Zinnerman say, “You can deny us all you want.”
“But don’t you dare think of yourself as a victim and throw a tantrum at me. I can still recognize it if the one that shot down Gilboa is a pilot, but not a brat who doesn’t have any resolve.”
The words became a needle that was thrown, and the hands that were resting on the sand were trembling, but it was unable to remove the feeling of being punched. The lead in Banagher’s stomach was burning, and he forcefully spat the sand that became dirt in his mind “I didn’t do this on my own will…” he muttered as he wiped away the blood on the corner of his mouth.
“Someone else forced me to ride on a mobile suit, and things ended up like this before I even knew what happened. If you’re not going to forgive me, just kill me. Don’t beat around the bush and talk about something like duty; can’t you just harden your heart and kill me…!?”
Zinnerman’s hard fist was still clenched as he answered with his trembling eyelids. See, this man talks big, but he’s no different from those guys who want the “Box”. Banagher said, “You don’t dare to do so anyway.” Banagher said with his busted lips that were curled up.
“If I die, the “Unicorn” won’t move. If you can’t extract the data of the “Box”, you’ll just let this treasure rot. No matter how you hate me, it’s impossible for you to kill—”
The second impact struck his face, and his body that was sent flying away hit the dune behind. He felt a numbing feeling in his skullcap, “those big shots may think that way, but we’re different”, Zinnerman growled, and Banagher stared at his bearded face.
“It doesn’t matter what happens to the “Box”. My ship doesn’t have the room to feed someone like you who has no will to live.”
The burly figure became a shadow as it moved towards Banagher, blocking his sights. The eyes of a killer were glittering somehow deep within, just like the first time, and Banagher clenched his hands together with the sand.
Banagher stared at the two black eyeballs that were not showing any light, and exerted strength to stiffen his trembling knees. He tried his best to let his trembling body stand up, and glared at Zinnerman with all his strength. Do it if you can. I’ll spit my blood on you once I’m beaten down. As he was driven by this unknown temper, his swaying body was about to straighten, and Zinnerman showed some teeth on his ominous looking face.
Before he could understand that it was a smile, he was gently nudged back and landed on his backside. “What kind of expression is that?” Zinnerman gave a wry look, and this was an unexpected response to Banagher as he looked back.
“Someone who can give that kind of expression will not collapse that easily. Hurry up and get ready. The desert won’t listen to any excuses humans make.”
Zinnerman finished and walked away. Are you serious? Banagher wanted to open his mouth and ask, but was unable to let out a sound as his wildly pounding heart spread the feeling of this fear that came a moment later. His body that was unneeded by anyone and self-neglected continued to give the sound of life stubbornly— “Damn it!” Banagher groaned as he kicked the sand at his feet. The blood that rushed up his body caused him to recall the heat, and the large amount of sweat that suddenly started to flow out evaporated before they dripped.
The sun that was radiating the bright white light was dyed red, half-hidden behind the dunes, and the surrounding temperature stared to feel. This was the so-called radiation cooling effect at work. As there was almost no moisture in the air, the temperature could not remain certain, and there were temperature differences of around 30 degrees Celsius between both day and night. It was hard to imagine from the scorching heat in the day, but it was not uncommon to freeze to death in the desert.
The scorching heat and harsh coldness repeated itself through day and night, and this climate reminded Banagher of the moon. It would be more appropriate to assume this as a barometric pressure suited for survival, a place without the blessing of the atmosphere. Banagher zipped up his jumper and put the cloth acting as a hood around his neck, and looked around at the endless number of sand dunes that appeared around him. He heard the sound of wind and sand blowing by, and there was nothing moving. As he waited for the stars to blink, the surroundings would probably be so silent that one would believe that this was the moon.
Is he really going to cross such a place? Banagher knelt down at where he was, and checked whether the gaiters were secured at the bottom of his jeans as he observed the group of people gathered at the airlock. The area was surrounded by dusk, and light shone from the airlock showing the backs of Flaste and the other crew members. He could see their anxious expressions, and Zinnerman was right in the middle of that group, still intending to wear the old leather jacket and the captain hat. “This map is made by the guerillas, and we can rely on them.” His voice sounded extremely loud in the wind.
“We’ll try to move quickly at night only. As long as there’s moonlight, we’ll be able to see 5, 600m around us. It’s bad that we don’t have a GPS for desert use, but we’ll be able to see the stars clearly, and if we use a compass as well, we’ll find a way.”
The Captain pretended to sound relaxed as he laid out the map, while Flaste and the rest gave obviously suspicious looks. He’s not kidding now, is he? Banagher too gave a suspicious look as he managed to prevent himself from talking. He obeyed Zinnerman’s words and started to check on the luggage in his backpack. It included rations, sleeping bags, flashlights, warm clothing, anti UV lip cream, scarves, sunshade clothes, a first aid kit with pesticide, and most importantly, water—and this was heavy. There was four days worth of water, 5 liters a day, and the backpack weight almost 30kg. If they wanted to cross the desert, this weight itself would be an indicator of life…
“The distance to Atal is approximately 63km. if we move quickly by night, we’ll reach there in the morning 4 days later as long as nothing goes wrong. Once we contact our allies there, I estimate that we’ll be able to send a rescue squad here on the fifth morning. I suppose the guerilla forces of Adrar and Tirith Zemul will take action.”
“I don’t think this is really a good idea…”
Flaste spoke up in place of the anxious crew. Everyone present felt that it was better to let a mobile suit punch through the belly of the shape than to make such a risk, but Zinnerman superficially answered everyone’s doubts as he put on his backpack. “Take command while I’m not around.” He told Flaste and left the crew.
“If there’s still no news after 5 days, blow up the ship however you want. Bring the mobile suits out to contact our allies…let’s move out, brat.”
Flaste and the rest of the crew were attracted by Zinnerman’s stare as they looked over at Banagher. Without anyone saying anything, the biggest reason why they were against having Zinnerman cross the desert was because of the person accompanying him. Banagher endured the suspicious stars as he carried the backpack, thinking, Who cares about you guys. If you have any objections, go talk to your Captain. The weight that pressed down heavily on his back caused him to miss his footing, and he frantically regained his balance as he pretended to look calm while walking over to Zinnerman.
“I’m going then. Help us pray that there won’t be any sandstorms.”
Zinnerman waved goodbye at everyone as he started to trek off. Flaste watched his Captain leave with a reluctant look, and then shot a meaningful look at Banagher. You better prepare yourself there—Banagher felt a chill from this cold stare, but he immediately focused on looking to the front at this desert trip the two of them would embark on. He turned his back on the setting sun that was like a ripened fruit and climbed up the gradually sloping surface to the other dune. Let’s go then. As he harbored this thought, his foot got stuck in the sand, and he ended up falling forward so soon after he embarked on this trip.
On the same day, April 21st, it was US Central Standard time, 1pm.
Augusta was raining, and the rain that was colder than rain in spring was scattering down from the dark clouds above, causing the idling walkway to be dyed a light grey color. Alberto Vist spent his time waiting as he leaned his back against the medium-sized airport control tower, looking up at the clouds that were hovering at a low place as he heard the sound of raindrops dropping on the umbrella. Soon after, a black spot appeared in the sky, and the roaring of a jet engine could be heard mixed amidst the rain. At that moment, the silhouette of a shuttle was gradually looming.
The belly of the shuttle, which was filled with anti-heat materials, lowered its undercarriage and landed on the runway lit with beacon lights. The friction on the wheels caused the rainwater to steam off, and the machine gradually slowed down as the thrust reverser boomed loudly. There were no signs of any other machines in this Augusta Research facility that also functioned as a mobile suit experimental place. Alberto waited for the taxiing shuttle to reach its apron as he got on the electric car his subordinate was driving on. The passenger step moved along at the same time as it started to move to the apron.
This shuttle that reached Augusta was a miniature one that moved to and fro from Earth, one belonging to Anaheim Electronics, and there was an “AE” logo printed on the side of the machine. It was a company shuttle used by those in the corporate-class in emergency situations, but not a lot of people would ride a private shuttle to Earth and to the Moon. The step car brought the ladder to the airlock of the shuttle, and Alberto got off the electric car, waiting patiently on this runway that was drenched in rainwater. After that, the airflow let out what sounded like a deep sigh as it opened, and a cabin crewman who got of the shuttle beforehand was holding the umbrella at the door.
A short woman dressed in a wine red suit walked down the steps. The 1G gravity caused her to tumble, but she did not grab onto the crewman’s hand as she corrected her posture. She looked down the wide runway from the top of the steps, and upon noticing Alberto’s stare immediately, narrowed her eyes.
The woman was already over the age of 50, but she showed no hesitation over how to live like a woman. This woman was the wife of Anaheim Electronics’ chairman, and also, the stand-in leader of the Vist Foundation. Alberto succumbed under the usual stare of Martha Vist Carbine and gulped. Martha let her loose lips remain shut, looked up at the grey sky, received an umbrella from the crewman, and started to walk down the stairs.
“The rain’s annoying.”
Despite the fact that engines of the shuttle were still running, he could tell that she said that her lips said those words from their shape. Alberto bowed respectfully as he got ready to welcome the Empress of the Moon.
They were in Augusta, located in Northern America, Georgia, near the Clarks Hill Lake on the border between South Carolina and Georgia. The local Newtype research facility called the Augusta Newtype Research Institute was located beside the lake, a vast place that used to be a mobile suit experimental center.
However, the term Newtype Research Institute was taken down, and it had been a long time since the military facilities here were taken down. The land was registered under the Federation air force, but the airport in the facility was never used as an air base. On first glance, the similarly shaped empty buildings were all abandoned here. Alberto walked on his feet that ushered Martha beforehand towards the largest building called the A block. There were 6 levels in this building that was 50m in length all around, and it looked as gloomy as an abandoned hospital under the cloudy sky, awaiting Alberto and Martha who came out from the electric car.
“Just a few more amendments to the process before unit 2’s testing under gravity conditions is complete. We used the combat data from unit 1 as feedback, so there’s a mass improvement in space mobility as compared to the beginning.”
The lobby felt very cold without the air-conditioning. Alberto followed Martha, who did not look behind as she walked, and reported the situation during the past two days.
“Captain Macias of the Senate Council came to inspect yesterday. We merely let the test pilot carry out some demonstrations, but he seemed to be satisfied. He indicated that the UC plan must not be left out of this space forces realignment plan…”
At this point, Alberto suddenly went quiet as he stopped in his tracks, as he sensed someone moving at the corner leading to the elevator hall.
At a corner of the passage that was somewhat dim because of energy conservation, there was a black shadow popping out from a corner. That shadow moved lightly, forming the shape of a human, and became a shadow of a 4, 5 year old child as it stared right back from the corner. Those familiar eyes looked like they were about to be etched in Alberto’s eyes, and he could not help but look away. Haven’t you had enough already? Alberto thought as he widened his tense eyes with fear. The child who looked eerily similar to Banagher Links suddenly disappeared, and the shadow of the foliage plant placed at the corner was dragged along the floor.
He exhaled hard and moved his feet that stopped. Martha, who stopped as well, gave him a scrutinizing look. Alberto then coughed to try and hide things through and continued his report without looking at her,
“The Settlement Issues Council seemed to be on the move as well, but the High Staff Committee do support the Foundation. As the stand-in leader estimated, once we can complete the deal using unit 2—”
“You’re still concerned about that?”
Martha again stepped forward as she spoke up to interrupt Alberto. He did not understand what she meant as she looked at the figure in front that never looked back.
“You’re still concerned about that? Alberto?”
The sharp scrutinizing voice rang ago, and a stare that looked like it could see through everything shot over. Alberto felt a shudder on his shoulders as he took this cold stare that overlooked the shoulders “…No.” he answered as he lowered his head. “That’s good.” Martha said as she looked in front.
“It was unexpected of the “Sleeves” to come and take the “Unicorn” away, but it was a wise decision to abandon the machine. You were correct in choosing not to take it back, but to destroy it.”
The white machine fell into the scorching abyss as the traction wire was snapped—he recalled that scene and asked himself whether it was the correct decision. At that time, he merely had the impulse of wanted to get rid of the “Unicorn” from his eyes, and he did not remember making a sane decision. That was because he was scared, and he hated the eyes of the “Unicorn” pilot that were the same as Cardeas—Banagher Links, who was protected by the machine Cardeas put so much effort in making, and who appeared several times in front of him. Those eyes that could overlap his own when he looked into the mirror looked like they would reveal the sins he committed over and over again…
“Don’t think about that again. Biologically, both you and he are blood-related brothers, but we are all humans. We have more important priorities to protect than blood relations, and you, as the heir of the Vist family, completed the responsibility you’re tasked with.”
Martha continued to speak softly, and it was unclear if she actually understood his heart. A responsibility to take down every single relative, including father and brother? in fact, Alberto felt that he was cursed, and he softly answered, “Yes.”
“Besides, it is likely that he’s still alive, so you will probably face him again. You two may be blood relatives, but you must not let someone who’s not on your side to handle the key to the “Box”. You do understand, right?”
She looked back and gave a stare, indicating that he must not fail the next time around. Alberto did not have the confidence to answer her calmly as he hurried his steps to move past Martha. He turned around the corner, walked for another 20m, and arrived at the metal door at the end of the corridor. He then took out the ID card and swiped it at the card reader.
The light indicating that the door was unlocked lit up, and the thick and heavy metal doors opened aside. They stepped through the door, and there was a bright space with air-conditioning inside. There were several sealed windows on the walls of this passage, and several white-clothed workers could be seen standing there, working. The Augusta Research Institute was announced to be closed off, and this was the area that could not be exposed to the public. Martha showed no signs of fear on her face as she advanced forward, and stepped into this highly fortified area that had much of the facility’s security.
It was unknown where the antiseptic smell came from. There were no energy-saving implements within the facility, yet it felt very dark inside, probably because there used to be experiments ignoring human ethics carried out here. It was said that the Newtype Research Institute acted under the name of a military research facility as they carried out surgical and medicinal procedures on war orphans that were helpless, creating a large number of vegetables, and was ordered to be shut down as a result. The old facilities and researchers still remained here however, only because this was an official military institute. Of course, this being a facility for the air force would not be enough reason to give it budget to carry on operating. The difference between the budget the military gave and the expenses paid for operations was provided by Anaheim through multiple 3rd party sectors.
It had been two days since he reached this place, but he really could not bring himself to like this place. He even felt a false hallucination, that someone was watching him, and when looking back, he could hear the footsteps of several children running away. There were also rumors of many ghosts, like a boy wearing a blood-stained surgical gown or the brain juices of a girl spilling out from the skullcap that had its scalp removed. There were some amongst his accompanying subordinates who would even state openly that they heard the laughter of children as well. Those useless hallucinations I saw are definitely due to the messages left inside my mind. Alberto saw the ominous shadows stuck on the wall, and started to feel a chill. He then recognized the white-clothed man in front of him and stopped in his tracks.
“I’m the facility chairman Bentner. Excuse me for being unable to welcome you directly.”
Bentner said this as he reached his hand forward, and he sure did fit the image of a head of a human laboratory. His arched back, bald head and frail body that was covered with a white coat could be said to be the incarnate of a mad scientist, and as ominous as a prison warden in the Middle Ages. “Hello.” Martha answered coldly without changing her expression, and used her hand to raise her hair. Bentner’s outstretched hand had nowhere to go as it returned back, and his face that looked to be around 60 showed the smile of a slave bowing humbly.
“You must be tired after such a long trip. How about—”
“It’s rare for me to come by here, but I do treasure my important time. Can you please tell me the current progress?”
Martha’s style was to look down on those servile to her and tell them to do whatever they could do as they could. Alberto nodded silently at Bentner who gave a doubtful glance. In the past, the Federation army intended to cover everything up in and eliminate all the researchers, thinking that they could shake themselves off their misfortune. However, Bentner, who was somehow able to fight against it and protect his own position, was definitely not just a bookworm. “Excuse me, please come here.” He quickly understood that the chairwoman did not come here for leisure, kept his smile, and walked first, showing his own adaptability.
“I should say that this is really to be expected of a Cyber-Newtype. Her recovery ability is really shocking, and she is basically no different from a healthy person. It is possible for her to pilot a mobile suit in another 3 days.”
Bentner pressed on the nearest elevator button as he explained. Martha merely looked at the level display as she did not bother to answer.
“She’s the perfect pilot for the “Banshee”, and to us, a very rare test subject, so every member here is motivated. But despite the backing from Anaheim, it is hard to acquire specimens after we lost the support of the military. But asking us to continue the research is a little too…”
“What problems does she have?”
Martha spoke up to interrupt and walked in first after the elevator reached. Bentner showed a shocked look as he was taken aback by the other party, and immediately followed her, saying, “The problem is that her she is the designed genetic plan-type.” as he closed the elevator doors.
“If it is a Cyber-Newtype that went through acquired adjustments, it won’t be difficult to adjust her again. With the help of the drugs, we can remove the memories in spurts without reducing their abilities. But someone with a designed genetic plan itself is different. She’s different from those with acquired adjustments, so she doesn’t use drugs that create rejection, and her reaction to psychotropic drugs will be no different from ordinary humans. To make it clearly, she’s not used to having her brain adjusted. If we force her to submit, we might break her sense of identity and make her worthless.”
The elevator reached the highest level, the 6th floor, and it seemed that the wind was blowing outside. Alberto heard the thunderclap from afar and arrived on the pathway where armed guards were on standby. There were metal gates on both sides of this passage, and this place felt more like an asylum for those severely mentally ill instead of a prison.
“So to simply put, it’s a problem with the heart. She has her own soul that’s unwilling to undergo readjustments again, right?”
Martha did not change her expression as she walked in front. She, Alberto was shocked inside by the term she used and stopped in front of the door with the number ‘12’ on it. “Well, stating it like that is…” Bentner spoke halfway through, but Martha looked inside the cell without hesitation, seemingly wanting him to back off.
A bed and a window framed with metal bars could be seen in this square room 5m wide. The silhouette sitting on the bed appeared for a moment as the lightning that struck from afar lit inside, and Alberto, who was looking inside this dark room from behind Martha’s head, gulped as he saw that face that looked much younger than he thought. Did she look that frail before? She felt more muscular at that moment when she immediately used her body to protect me while the assassin attacked the “Nahel Argama”. As Alberto experienced some sort of pain caused by conflicting emotions, “Interesting” he heard Martha state this in a nonchalantly cold manner, and looked at her with a terrified expression.
“I want to talk to her.”
Martha did not look away from the other side of the metal bars as her lips showed a smile. Alberto felt Bentner behind him gulp, and looked back at the “specimen” inside the room.
Marida Cruz did not mind the stares from outside the fence as her puppet-like face did not move, looking outside the window. However, those eyes that were lit by the lightning flash seemed to show some vigor of life as she faced the outside world. On seeing this, Alberto experienced complicated emotions in his heart for a second time.
The dunes that were blown by the winds would change their forms from time to time, revealing the beauty of a woman’s body. The gradual ridges depicted the surface of a plump waist, and an observer would not help but think that it might feel as soft as a human body.
But in fact, these stretches of gradual sand dunes were the obstacles stumbling the feet of travelers. For every step they took, the sand pile would collapse, and the little amount of physical strength would dissipate bit by it. They had not completed even one-third of the journey on the second night of the trip. Banagher gritted his teeth, trying his best to follow Zinnerman who was walking 10m in front of him. The dry air of the night blew aside his sweat, causing his skin to tense up due to the cold. The temperature was around 10 degrees Celsius, and if there were wind, the temperature the body would feel should be blown this.
He had already drank one day’s worth of water, and logically, the bag should have become lighter, but he found it heavier than yesterday because he did not sleep well in the day. Whenever his consciousness was about to fade, a large number of flies would fly from out of nowhere, and the fluttering of the wings would prevent him from sleeping. The sunlight would shine in through his eyelids, unwilling to fade. The rest time would then end just when he was about to enter dreamland, and he would begin his trek again when the sun sets. The fatigue accumulated on the previous day was still on him, and he could not muster his appetite as he continued to walk and drag his lethargic body.
What about Zinnerman? Banagher pursued the figure that disappeared behind the ridge and finally stepped on the top. After seeing the scenery laid out in front of him, he was speechless.
After walking down the slope, he would have to go uphill again, and there was another dune on the other side of the dune. There was a ridge of dunes that littered the landscape, and the large ones could reach 100m tall, while the wide ones could reach several kilometers. The gradation presented by nature was so intricate it was shocking. There did not seem to be any room for humans senses to be involved with, and the overly intricate scene caused him to feel like vomiting. Zinnerman left behind footprints as he walked down the slope, looking like a speck of dust destroying these layers.
Is this nature? Was humanity born from this merciless beauty? Did they carve out thousands of years of history like this? Banagher’s mind and soul that grew up in the large cylinders called colonies were shocked, and he remained rooted to the ground.
The dunes lit under the moonlight did not have any color, and the white gradients of the ridge drew a clear divide with the pitch darkness of night as the single toned world of desolation stretched down the endless horizon. This is impossible. Anyone who wants to cross this place must be out of their mind. Banagher yelled in his heart as his unwittingly retreated, and as he stepped backwards, the sand at his feet immediately collapsed, and his body was dragged down by the sand dune below. He landed on his backside, and tumbled back due to the weight of the haversack on his back, and rolled down the dune without being able to adjust himself.
His sights started to spin wildly, and the powder-shaped sand entered his nose and eyes. He let his shoulders and stomach hit the sand as he rolled down the slope like a broken puppet, before his body finally managed to stop rolling. He wanted to spit out the sand in his mouth, but he could not secrete any saliva, and he had no strength to sprout his body that was filled with sand as he could only hear the sound of footsteps approaching as they stepped on the sand. Banagher moved his fingers that laid feebly on the sand and tried to open his eyes, seeing the tip of Zinnerman’s boots in his blurry sights.
He felt his arm being pulled by the other man, and his upper body that was sprawled on the floor was dragged up completely. His legs moved on their own, trying to stand up straight, but was unable to do so even with this momentum. He bent his knees that could not exert strength, and collapsed under the weight of the haversack again before sprawling on the floor. Zinnerman too tumbled on the sandy ground and gave an exasperated look as he stared at this ridiculous scene, muttering, “You idiot, you didn’t drink, did you?”
“Didn’t I tell you to drink regularly even if you’re not thirsty?”
Banagher’s face was dragged up, and the opening of the bottle was brought right to his lips. The water that was taken in instinctively entered his windpipe, causing him to choke hard. He bent down, used his remaining strength to cough, and his face hit the sandy ground that was thoroughly cold. “Oi, pull yourself through.” Zinnerman said, but Banagher pushed aside his arm, curled up his body that was having difficulty in breathing, Leave me alone.and his dry lips mouthed out the words,
“Just leave me alone…please let me stay here.”
Banagher let out a hoarse voice from his throat that felt like it was stuck. After a short moment of silence, “Don’t say such sorry things.” Zinnerman answered, but his voice felt so distant.
“Even if I walk along with you, I’ll just drag you down. Please move first, I’ll try to find a way…”
“What nonsense are you spouting? What can you do alone when you can’t even read the constellations? You’ll just move around in the same direction and get dried up to death in the wild.”
“That’s fine too…you pulled me out here for this aim, right?”
“Huh?”
“You want to let me dry out to death in the desert…so just kill me…”
Banagher sensed that the bearded face was raising his eyelids, taking a deep sigh through his nose. “Really, I didn’t expect you to have such thoughts when you came along with me.” Zinnerman said this with a wry look as he dusted off the sand on his buttocks and stood up.
“Just like I said, this stretch is the toughest area. It’ll take a week for us to make a detour, so that means we can only move through this stretch. Once we can do so, it’s all flatland there on. It’s just a little longer, hang in there.”
Hang in there. These words entered Banagher’s heart, causing him to feel a burning sense of negativity. Why must I be the one hanging in here? What right do I have? He grabbed the sand and looked back at Zinnerman’s eyes that were looking down at him and moved his throat, “I am…!” that was about to be blocked.
“I rode on a mobile suit, killed people, and now I’m desperately trying to walk in this desert. How much more do you want me to work hard? What exactly do you hope that I do…!? Everyone’s just caring about themselves, forcing others into despair…that’s too irresponsible…”
Do what you feel you have to do, fulfill your responsibility. The words Cardeas and Daguza said echoed in his empty body dampening his sights. Even if I worked hard here, I can’t save anyone. No one will end up being saved, and nobody will save me. I don’t want to do anything, and I know that no matter what I do, everything will all be wasted. It’s just like what my ‘older brother’ said, I’m a seed of disaster bringing misfortune to others.
I’m bothered even when people placed their expectations on me. I have nothing to repay you. I just feel “disjointed” from the world as I lived in a corner of an artificial colony. If there’s a chance to return to such a lifestyle, I really want to return. I want to return to the moments where I didn’t have to kill anyone, not get cursed by my own bloodline, and live my life with the vague gentleness. If only I never rode on the “Unicorn”. If only I never met Audrey—the water droplets that flowed down his face landed on the floor, and he grabbed the sand in his hands tightly as he heard the sound of these water droplets dripping into the dry ground. Zinnerman snorted out air as he patted the captain’s hat that was covered in sand, saying with a spurning tone, “What are you hoping from an outsider unrelated to you?”
“It’s already tough for those who want to live normal lives to take care of you, let alone at this moment of life and death. Even if they’re just saying that they care, you should be grateful that someone’s willing to talk to you.”
To Banagher, these words were unexpected. He felt the lead in his stomach twirling and saw Zinnerman’s face in his sights. At this point, he saw that the two eyes looking down at him were giving off a glint of light that was stronger than the night sky.
“Even if you complain to me like that, your expression isn’t showing any signs of dying off. You still have the strength to fight. It’s because I felt that you can stand on your own that I brought you along. No matter how painful it is, if you’re a man, you should answer back to other people’s expectations, raise your chest and endure until the moment you die.”
Zinnerman carried his haversack again and stepped forward without waiting for a reply. Banagher supported his upper body almost instinctively, “Fight…what do you want me to fight with?” and asked. “Think about it.” the back profile that answered this had already left Banagher halfway out of its mind.
“A man’s life is a battle until death.”
He added these words that came flowing over with the wind hit the ears and went off. Banagher raised his knees forward and brought his upper body forward as he stood on the sandy ground shakily. He stepped forward to the back profile that was leaving him, not know exactly why he had to do this. I’m an idiot. His body that realized this sufficiently stepped on the endless stretch of gradients.
He walked on the ground that would collapse whenever he stepped, climbed uphill step by step, went down again, and would then move along a towering ridge to the next dune. He did not want to lose to that back profile, and he wanted to catch up to the man; Banagher’s thoughts became his pillar of support as he continued to chase silently. The moonlight was covered by the dune behind him, and the starry light caused the dunes hidden in the darkness to appear. Nothing was moving except for the two shadows that were some distance away from each other, moving forward as they left small trails on the sand dunes. This was a world where nothing could be heard other than the sound of wind and their own breathing. It seemed that all of humanity had died off as both of them were the only ones left in the world, absolute silence surrounding them…
Zinnerman did not look back as he continued on in regular steps. Banagher let his body that was carrying the bag lean forward as he moved his own feet silently. What’s with that guy? He could not see any clear goal from him like Cardeas, and he was not a by-the-book soldier like Daguza. Zinnerman was different from Frontal in that he did give off a human-like vibe, but there was some attraction from his back that caused Banagher to be dragged along for some reason. Even without looking back, he could grasp Banagher’s current situation. If Banagher fell, he would return to pick him up. While he gave a mysterious sense of relief, there was some obstinate feeling from him, and he did not allow others to enter his own heart. in the end, that figure that he could not get close to remained right in front of him, even though he would not leave—
“I met the Captain at the Federation’s detention barrack. At that time, I was part of the Youth Service Squad, a group of brats that would listen to the orders from anyone else in the base. Same goes for Gilboa. We’re all stripped naked and had our butts inspected, and we can be said to be a band of brothers on the same boat of disaster.”
The words Banagher heard from Flaste before he left echoed in his mind, and he looked at the sand that landed at his feet. During the One Year War, Zinnerman and company took part in an attack on Earth, and fought until the bitter end in Africa before being captured by the Federation. They then awaited the end of the war in the detention cells, not knowing how the war in space ended, and nobody told them what happened to their hometown.
“To the Federation, we’re just demons who sent a colony crashing to Earth. The treatment we had at the detention barracks was way different from what was in the agreement, but it didn’t matter. Even if we were brats back then, we’re all soldiers. As long as we ate the food the army gave us, we had to bear the name of the country no matter where we went. What I could not forgive was that the Federation pointed their guns at our relatives left in our hometown.”
“After the war ended, the Principality of Zeon was forced to disband and restart as a republic. However, a change in name alone can’t possibly erase all hatred that was culminated since the past. To the occupying army on the republic, Zeon was Zeon. They could not end all grudges just because the war ended, because too many people died in it. While the big-shots were negotiating for peace, the occupying forces had been building up their unhappiness. And there was an increase in voices by the day, like whether they could forgive the Zeon monsters, like whether they should raze the Zeon colonies to the ground like how we suffered, until it reached a point where it was not surprising to have any riots. Kill off all these inhumane Zeons, go to Zeon if you want to snatch women. Those people grew up hearing these words during the war, and some of their brothers died in Zeon’s hands. Sacrifices were needed to vent their frustrations. They needed something to vent their anger and hatred and slice it up for the public to see…the place they chose was the town the Captain’s home was.”
The name of the town that was chosen was called Globe. That night, there was a curfew enforced on it, and all the residents were forbidden from moving out. As everyone held their breaths and hid inside, the occupying force encircled the place and charged into the town under the preface of suppressing riots. The soldiers who went out were about to return back, so there were old people, women and children left inside the town.
The soldiers that were manipulated by the higher-ups in a subtle manner were beasts hungry for blood. During the night, they opened every single household door and did whatever they wanted. To them, it did not matter whether it was an adult or a child. The men were tortured to death, the private parts of the women were violated, and the children that were shrieking and crying were shot down, unable to cry. Armed soldiers surrounded the town, and nobody could reach their hand for support. The police and the media could only remain silent at this ‘venting of frustration’ both the occupying army and the Republic’s government allowed.
There was no consensus on Globe being the sacrifice in the first place, but the fact remained that when the colony was thrown down to Earth, the footage of when Zeon celebrating and applauding their victory was spread throughout the world, and the residents of Globe were caught on television. The sight of the residents of Zeon smiling as they trampled on billions of corpses, immersed in a celebratory atmosphere—probably caused the Federation people watching this live telecast to gather their hatred and anger on the town of Globe that just happened to be on television. Either way, there was none of the terms ‘logic’ and ‘rationality’ in the soldiers’ minds when they ravaged the entire town, and their savage behavior after this violence easily broke down the lives of the people that built this town. They were mocked, trampled, and robbed of all their pride. More than thousands of people suffered the most cruel deaths in the world.
Those who died early were fortunate. If there were children watching their mothers being raped, the reverse could have happened in the future. No one could remain sane after such a cruel night. The festival of madness lasted until morning, leaving only counting corpses. Burnt scenes floated out from the houses that caught fire, and the stench of corpses and pee were mixed inside, remaining inside the colony for countless days. Just like how the Zeon army introduced poison gas into a colony, the town became a complete wasteland. No, it was not even a wasteland, but a used ‘public toilet’ for the Federation army to vent their frustrations, an exhibition of the cruelty humanity could show.
The Federation explained to the public that the tragedy of Globe happened because the residents rioted as the military was oppressing the resistance, and they had to suppress them with military force. The Republic government and the media accepted this saying and both the occupying army and the republic government had a common understanding as they accepted this, that they should permit such behavior if that kind of sacrifice could allow them to calm down. Either way, the truth was as clear as daylight even without explaining. Zinnerman and company returned back to Zeon after an exchange of prisoners, and immediately understood what happened after seeing his own hometown ravaged to the ground. They hated the Federation, hated the Republic government that became a mere puppet, and more than anything, hated themselves for being unable to protect their families.
They cursed themselves for being weak, and whenever they thought about the suffering they suffered before their deaths, their frustrations would cause them to blame themselves, until they went mad for days. To these people who lost their hometown in all sorts of ways, the only choice left for them was to fight on. “Axis”, in the distant asteroid belt, took in the recently born Mineva Zabi, and this place became the hiding place for Zinnerman and company for years. After “Axis” returned to the Earth celestial sphere, they called themselves Neo Zeon and started from there, investing themselves in the two Neo Zeon Wars. There was no such thing as ceasefire, and they continued to start wars all to accept that they were still alive.
“Even till now, I wonder what will happen to me if the opposite was true. In a war, anyone will go insane. It’s not rare to see photos of people smiling and showing V-handsigns even after seeing the corpses of enemy soldiers piled up one after another…but the people from the Federation are humans, and we’re humans. Some things can’t be forgiven no matter what people say. If anyone heard that the tragedy of Globe was filmed and still circulated in the black market, I’ll want to send another colony down.”
“Do you understand? Our wives and kids became toys covered with blood, and that image is filmed up and still circulated around somewhere in the world. Some sickos even feel excited by seeing that. We couldn’t save them even if we heard the screams from that time. It’s impossible for time to be reversed. Can you imagine that kind of regret, that bitterness that’s much worse than us being chopped up to pieces?”
This was not a question that could be answered immediately. Banagher merely lowered his head and avoided Flaste’s bloodshot eyes.
“We, who were given a new lease of life to act as bodyguards for the princess, spent our efforts finding the scumbag dealer who circulated the video. We discovered Marida when we were checking on the routes those bloody perverts used. As for Marida…well, I suppose I shouldn’t mention. Anyway, we didn’t do this out of fun.”
“Zeon did launch a colony down to Earth, and it is understandable that there is ample reasons for us to die. But the hatred we put on ourselves is different from a conflict between countries. It’s not about reviving Zeon and redeeming ourselves. We don’t care about what happens to the “Box”; we only have two options, whether to curse the world or to keep fighting.”
Therefore, don’t think that you definitely won’t be killed off. Flaste ended off, grabbed Banagher by the chest, and chided him sternly,
“I don’t know your background, but I do know that you’re the enemy pilot who killed Gilboa. Listen, I’ll make you pay if you dare pull the Captain down. if you’re a pilot, build your own way to live like a pilot.”
A pilot is a fighting unit that has no grudges whether it is killed or killed others. Banagher compared these words to what Marida said before as he started to think. He was viewed as a pilot, and even if it was an outcome prompted out of coincidence, he had fulfilled the purpose of a pilot. Even if he was called a brat, no one was willing to play around with him. He thought, I’m seen as being part of the situation, and I’m actually affecting the situation.
It did not happen like this because he hoped for it. It was the same for Zinnerman or Flaste or the rest. Everyone was caught in an unreasonable situation. Even if they wanted to live in any way they wanted, this world was too cruel, and humans were too helpless. Currently, he was on the border of life and death. He did not know how much he could continue walking. The body of flesh that was removed from its civilized looking skin was so fragile. Perhaps it was a mistake to think that humans were born with such a cruel nature, and an absolutely unreasonable possibility.
Even so, humans continued to live on, fought against this harsh nature, drank water, and devoured other forms of life. Zinnerman harbored such pain that could not be compensated even in death, but he still lived on. Banagher kept saying that he did not want to do anything, but he was still walking. He could stop in his tracks, but an unknown impulse he had no idea of was pushing him as he continued to walk forward without caring.
That was because Banagher instinctively knew that if he stopped in his tracks, he would be losing to this unreasonable situation. The moment he stopped and started cursing the world, his world would be shut off. Humanity used their fragile bodies to explore nature, survive and finally fly into space. This impulse that ignores everything pushes all unreasonable parts of the world, whether they were diseases, famines, discriminations', war…all the lives living on this world would have to fight against such unreasonable things, and the history of wars were past of humanity’s history.
That was why they had to progress, to move forward, to keep walking straight until they could accept this, to this world that would liberate them from all unreasonable things. Even if they know that such a world did not exist, they had to continue on mindlessly, even if they had to destroy this nature around them. They had to keep shouting as part of their instincts, that they would not lose as long as they were walking forward.
And then, they had to make an endless dream. They could not allow themselves to stop, they had to desire, rush to the target they wished to destroy and find the hope that had never wilting. They had to harness the power of possibilities residing inside their bodies and believe that tomorrow would be better. A glass of water, a little compassion from everyone else, I feel like I can continue on a little longer just by knowing the suffering everyone had. As he harbored such simple and gentle thoughts…
However, living bodies were still bodies of flesh. Even if he was unwilling, the flesh had its own limits. A strong sleepy feeling suddenly surged up in Banagher, and his feet were starting to feel heavy. The shadows of night gathered from around, and his visibility quickly darkened. No, don’t sleep, keep going. Even as he said these words in his heart, it was useless as the ground at his feet rose up vertically, and his hands that wanted to support his body slid along the sand. The impact that crashed into the ground became a distant echo, and Banagher could not even feel the impact of the fall as his face was buried in the sand, his consciousness drifting away.
The cracking sounds of flames could be heard, and Banagher felt the heat touching his face as he opened his eyes.
A column of smoke could be seen rising up, seemingly mixing into the faint ink-like starry night. Zinnerman was beside him, sitting on the ground and setting a fire, and the shadows that were casted upon the rock behind them were swaying. Banagher’s eyes caught sight of the marks around the shadows. These pictures looked like cow herds and people holding bows and arrows, and on a closer look, there were countless marks like this craved all over the rock wall. Perhaps these marks were left behind since a long time ago by the people living here when humanity first started to move.
The wall showed people tending to their livestock, men heading to war and women facing each other while sitting on chariots. Does this mean that this place had greenery for people to live, that there were work, wars, families and all sorts of human activities? As he laid down, Banagher looked up at the wall as he lingered in a half-dazed manner, only to suddenly see Zinnerman, who had been looking at him, right in the eyes.
He wanted to get up immediately, only to notice a blanket covering him. His body that was lying on the hard floor was completely stiff, and whenever he moved, he would feel intolerably sore. Zinnerman took up the small pot heated over the fire and poured the fluid in it over to an empty can. Here, he then handed the can over while seemingly saying this. The fragrance of the hot soup flowed out from within, and Banagher received the soup can without thinking.
He hurriedly poured the hot soup into his thoroughly cold and dry body, finding it a waste of time to wait for it to turn cold. The soup that was heated by a real fire was different from a vessel that had a heating function, as it could warm even a person’s heart. His invigorated nerves were starting to move, and there was a sense of warmth inside his body. He could feel that his body that should have used all energy and strength was trembling due to delight, pulsating. I’m not dead yet, I’m still alive. The moment he understood this, he gathered all the warmth to his nose and looked up at the sky.
The tears that remained in his eyes flowed out, and he stared at the stars that flickered in his blurry sights. This night sky that was powered by something unknown was brighter than he thought. The galaxy’s arm flashed by as a river of light, causing the night sky to give a deep blue color.
“Why are you crying?”
Zinnerman threw a dried twig into the fire as he mumbled these words. Banagher continued to look up at the sky as he answered, “The stars are really so pretty…” My excuse here is really stupid, but it’s not a lie. Zinnerman then snorted and looked up above his head.
The sounds of the maggots resting in the ground were quietly welling the breath of night as they were gradually sucked in by the darkness. Banagher remembered that scorpions and snakes would be attracted by heat, and rubbed his teary eyes before looking around. He saw that there was a pesticide sensor around them, and heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed that they had already climbed over the sand dunes. The surroundings were an uneven rugged rocky stretch, and he could see rocks that were in weird shapes due to many years of constant erosion. The hard and dry ground had lithic scattered all over the place, and the shrubs could be seen growing from the ground. A small figure suddenly lit its eyes and quickly disappeared into the darkness, probably a mouse living in the desert or some other organism.
There were organisms living in this place that even humans had already abandoned a long time ago. They continued to endure the harsh conditions, followed their impulsive will to live blindly, and continued to look for prey all just to continue their daily life. Don’t they find this world unreasonable? Banagher looked up at this rocky wall that was most probably left behind by people of the past, and tried to pull through his thoughts that were not exactly thinking. Only humans were granted the ability to draw and to think. If this intelligence was the reason why humans felt that things were unreasonable, perhaps there was no other organisms who were caught in the cycle of cause and effect more than humans. If modern people could live with nature like those people who drew the wall painting—
“I feel like the saying that the Earth will be polluted is a hoax when I stay here.”
Zinnerman looked up at the clear starry sky as he suddenly spoke up. Feeling unexpected, Banagher stared the side of his face.
“But in fact, the sky here was a lot dirtier than before. It’s said that deserts would expand every year right until where Dakar is. This is a negative consequence of developing Earth again, and also a result of the abnormal weather caused by throwing down colonies and meteors…but these things probably didn’t matter to Earth.”
The wind blew through the cracks between the rocks, releasing the sound that resembled a human voice. Zinnerman did not look at Banagher’s face as he naturally continued,
“The meaning of protecting Earth is just about protecting the ecosystem humans relied on. This sentence can be established as the price of global warming, desertification, and Earth being polluted by chemicals. If humans can be considered to be the ones creating everything, the trash and toxins produced by humans can naturally be seen as part of nature. If humans are the only ones who can’t live, the likelihood is that nature is trying to achieve a balance. To Earth, it probably doesn’t matter whether there are any organisms living on Earth or not.”
Banagher, who nearly died at the hands of the desert, could empathize with this statement. Living together with nature—this kind of nature was probably a fantasy humans had after being pampered by civilization. He could only lower his head as he felt amazed by how shallow his thoughts were.
The older generations of humans who struggled against the harsh conditions instinctively knew about this. Nature will never show any mercy to humanity, so humanity created civilization to live on, and used the system called society to protect themselves. But as time went by, this system got overly complicated, and humans ended up having to live for the sake of maintaining the system. Humanity then launched wars and continued to develop, let the economy grow…until they ended up making it hard for them to live, reversing their priorities.
Once a fetter is set up, the task of protecting the fetter itself would become something the adults had to deal with, and this would cause them to lose their ability to view things from an objective standpoint— Banagher heard the words Daguza said before amidst the wind as they entered deep into his ears.
“That’s why humans tried to look for this new world in space, but the system still remained on Earth. What the system demanded was that the exceeding population was to be removed from the ground. In the end, a group of people were dumped into space and created a different system there.”
“It was Zeon. They brought hope to the Spacenoids who were basically abandoned and gave them a new system, indicating a new direction to live…naturally, the system on Earth was rejected. Two systems that originated from different sources couldn’t coexist. One side had to succumb. This was established and proven by history by people of the olden times, before the Federation’s system was set up.”
Zinnerman looked far away between the stars where his hometown was and kept quiet. Banagher felt that the vague parts in his mind were becoming words, seeping deep into his mind, and stared at the man making the fire brighter. Zinnerman then glanced over “What? I’m not suitable for such things?” and asked, hiding his embarrassed expression as he pouted. “No.” Banagher answered as he looked away from that unexpectedly amicable bearded face.
“I feel so amazed that you can arrange your thoughts so clearly, it’s amazing…my history studies will be more decent if I was taught this way.”
“That’s because nature turns everyone into philosophers.”
Zinnerman said with a comfortable voice and laid down on the ground. Banagher gave a wry look and stared at the empty can he drank from. “But…” he tried to turn the words in his heart into a voice.
“But, looking at history, humanity managed to create a united government in the Federation and created a world where billions of people could stay in space. I guess that’s just a fantasy to those in the old ages, isn’t it? Doesn’t humanity also have this kind of possibility? It should be possible for humanity to unify these two thoughts and create a new system…”
Someone believed this before. Banagher did not hope that the speech the First Prime Minister of the Federation made as he was crushed together with “Laplace” in space was just a speech. Zinnerman did not move his body that was using its arm as a pillow, “That was established with many sacrifices.” and said with a sigh.
“The Federation didn’t view everyone as equal. There’re many oppositions they shot down and fought. That grudge still exists on Earth. It’s not going to be easily removed just like that.”
Zinnerman showed his hatred of losing his wife and child because of the unjustness of history, and his face looked like a demon for a moment. Banagher was not willing to continue looking at him as he immediately lowered his head and said with a very inaudible voice, “That was really too sad…”
“Yeah, it’s sad. We lived on to abandon our sadness…so why did it end up like this…”
Zinnerman’s muttering face was no longer like a demon, but the face of someone who was tortured unreasonably by sadness as large as a mountain, but still wanted to live on as a human. It was also the face of a human who experienced pain because of knowledge and blood, and yet could show gentleness. This man is probably someone gentle. He doesn’t know how to deal with the cruel reality and can only let the devil reside in him—that’s really sad. Banagher’s chest that was telling him this was shuddering, and tears of various sizes welled up in his eyes, silencing him. He laid down on the ground, his back facing Zinnerman, and he used the blanket to cover his sniffling sound.
Zinnerman gave a sharp stare right at Banagher’s back. “I know!” Banagher said without looking at the other man.
“You want to say that a man can’t cry in front of others, right?”
He rubbed his eyes, “it depends on the time and occasion” only to hear a quiet voice, and turned to look at Zinnerman.
“It’s ugly when someone cries out of self-pity, but it’s different if tears are shed for others. I won’t trust a man who won’t cry no matter what happens.”
After saying that, Zinnerman snuggled his body into the sleeping bag and did not move. “We’ll leave before dawn.” This voice rang beside in Banagher’s ears before he was about to enter that were about to enter the silence.
“We have to at least make up time for lagging behind. Rest well. Many illnesses are caused by a lack of sleep.”
The back profile that looked like a bear swayed on the other side with the fire. Banagher had an exceptional impression on that back as he closed his eyes.
I can understand many things by thinking about it. This thought caused Banagher to immediately forget about the lethargic self he showed for the past few days, and he muttered to himself that he should first cross this desert. However, the astonishingly powerful sleep monster leapt at Banagher, and in a moment, he fell into a deep slumber.
However, it was not easy to make up time after lagging behind on a journey in the desert.
The result of spending twice the amount of time expected to cross the sand dunes was that the relatively easy schedule they originally estimated was debunked. By the time the 3rd day ended, they cleared more than 30km. After using up 3 quarters of the estimated time, the fact that they only covered half the distance was right in front of them.
In the desert, delaying their journey would cause dehydration, the most severe situation. It was said that the limit of moving in a desert without drinking was 4 hours. Once the limit was exceeded, humans would be unable to move, and they could only wait as the fluids in their bodies get evaporated.
There was no water source in the middle of this journey, and of course, they could not hope for rain. Even though they saw several dark clouds on the horizon, the water would evaporate before they landed. On the 5th day, the water they rationed to the maximum was left at less than 500ml, and the bag that was originally heavy became exceptionally light. This light weight was basically equivalent to the amount of life they had left—the sunshade that was draped down from their shoulders covered them, and Banagher saw the faded looking sky as he touched his forehead that became rough due to his skin peeling. The skin felt completely different from the border of cloth. There was still some form of original skin color and feeling within 1cm from the line, and it felt like he was in a form of happiness called oblivion. To a bystander, the color on his forehead was definitely divided in half, and the skin under the cloth was like a baby, not knowing the fatigue of someone at his limits, and not knowing thirst.
The sunset that had already left the horizon for a long time was scattering its evil heat rays diagonally. Banagher’s body required rest soon, but the back profile of Zinnerman that was walking in front showed no signs of stopping. He would look around from time to time, check the compass and the map, and continued to move beyond several rocky areas suitable for resting. If they stopped here, they would never move again—and Banagher had this sense of danger as well, but he did not feel that this was the only reason why Zinnerman would care about moving forward. During this time, he never saw Zinnerman check the GPS coordinates. Zinnerman did not say anything, and Banagher did not have the courage to ask him, but it was very likely that the GPS malfunctioned due to the heat.
No matter how long they walked, the similarly shaped rocky hills at the horizon were the only things that could be seen, and surrounding them were the wide and flat dry ground that was like the bottom of a pot. Without a landmark, they might not be able to walk straight even with the help of a compass. People would exert more strength in the leg they were more comfortable with, and it was very likely that they would end up leaving a long arc on the sand without knowing. Looking at the map, they were probably not too far from Astal, but there were still no signs of any towns on the horizon, probably because they deviated from their course. Banagher stared at Zinnerman’s back that was showing some anxiety as he merely felt a chill in an instant, and moved his legs with his blank mind. This was the only good thing about the desert. All doubts and anxiousness would be evaporated as sweat, and would not stay in the body. The hot wind that blew by would create some form of assistance, and everything that could be considered thoughts would flow out from the pores.
The wind that blew from the front was called Khamsin, a dry hot dusty wind. When the low pressure occurred in the Mediterranean or Europe, the hot air would flow in from the southwest into the Sahara. They would thirst to death if they did not hurry up, and if they hurried up, they would end up using up their water. Perhaps Zinnerman was in a state where he could not make decisions as well. The hot air blew onto his face like a hairdryer, and Banagher walked along this hot pot base, his body feeling completely hot. The completely parched tongue seemed like it became a sponge. This wind is so hot! The wind was constantly increasing in strength, blowing the heat that was enough to steam into the nostrils—
A black shadow appeared in the white vision, and Banagher lifted his head. Zinnerman, who stopped, let his body lie prone on the dry floor. He stared at the distant horizon of hills, not moving at all. The silhouettes of the rocky hills were shaking gradually, perhaps due to the effect of mirages, and it seemed to be rumbling like a tsunami.
No, that was not it. it was really rumbling. A reddish-brown block-shaped item was rising up from the horizon, gradually expanding as it became a vortex. That object could be seen gradually rising, slowly moving towards Banagher and Zinnerman. It was not the silhouette of the hills afar.
“A simoom…”
Zinnerman muttered. At this moment, the reddish brown vortex continued to increase in size as it spread towards the boundaries of the horizon they could see. The noise from the Simoom brewed across the land, whipping up a sand wall that was several hundred meters in height, sweeping the land like a flood ready to engulf the world. Zinnerman, who stood in a stunned manner, then grabbed Banagher by the arms, “Over here, hurry!” he said as he started running.
“If we stay at where we are, our skin will be eroded by the wind. We have to find a rocky place to prone down for cover.”
Both of them dashed towards the rock formation they could see on the other end as if their feet were about to be tangled up. At this moment, the force of the Simoom continued to increase, and the dust that blew upon their faces and hands started to become as sharp as rasp files. Being torn to shreds by the wind; there was a sudden sense of realism in the saying, and Banagher dashed while seemingly trying to run past Zinnerman. The Simoom—the falls of sand and wild winds continued to grow until it could nearly reach the sun at the top.
The skies were darkening, and the boom that rang with the Simoom caused the ground to rumble. Banagher and Zinnerman continued to run as they dashed into a small rocky area for cover. Both of them sprawled themselves onto the ground without any time to breath, and the Simoom that were far hotter than body temperature struck the rock as the dust hitting the top let out cracking sounds. Their faces felt hot, and they would have difficulty breathing if they had not looked away from the wind.
“Use the water to dampen the cloth and cover your mouth and nose! Or else the sandy-wind will suffocate you! Close your eyes, and do not open them until I tell you to do so!”
Banagher could barely hear Zinnerman roaring voice. He undid the sunshade cloth, used the little water left to dampen it and covered the lower half of his face with it. His mouth instinctively took in the water on the cloth, and before it could enter his mouth, the hot air that was over 50 degrees blew the cloth dry. The dust that blew into the rocky ground continued to pile up, and as his body was about to be buried in the sand, he turned his face around slightly to look at the Simoom that was looming towards him.
It was a bloody-colored mix of sandy clouds. The sun had already disappeared, and there was nothing that could be heard other than the sound of the wind covering the organs. He saw Zinnerman lunge right at him and cover the head, only to end up seeing the sand being lifted off the ground. Banagher closed his eyes, and his body that was devoured by the torrent of Simoom and sand froze.
His hands that were scratched by the sand were hurting, and the wind of death came blowing over with a reddish-brown color as if it was about to roast all the organisms, blowing over the 2 bodies that were lying prone on the floor mercilessly. Banagher was terrified of his body being lifted off the floor at any moment, and heard his heart bumping loud. Zinnerman, who was covered behind him, had his heart beating in unison, and Banagher clearly felt that the sounds of two lives resisting death were spreading through the outer world.
The sounds overwhelmed the sound of the wind, bursting through the roaring atmosphere and passing through the sky in the distant place. Banagher did hear this sound in the “Unicorn” before—so that is the sound of my heartbeat being amplified by the machine? At this point, he realized this fact amidst the last bit of his consciousness that was still left. Was humanity obeying this sound and fighting against the merciless nature all this while? Humans gathered to protect their weak individual selves, established societies and developed the outer shell called civilization before finally suppressing the world? Is this groundbreaking power of life a crime? Is the long history of wars leading up to the Universal Century just a record of senseless destruction? No, this throbbing was telling him this. It’s too early to give an answer. We’re still a group that’s growing. Don’t end the trend.
Dad, Mr Daguza, Mr Gilboa, I’ve built my life off their, and I’m not alone now. I have to live, I have to live on, I have to show the power and gentleness the people with knowledge and blood possessed.
The world rumbled, and the sound of the atmosphere being abused was moving far apart. What entered the bottom of his consciousness were the two throbbing sounds that overlapped each other. Banagher, who was buried by the Simoom, clenched his fists.
It was darkness in complete silence. The seemingly frantic flapping of a bird’s wings broke this silence and darkness, causing a weak light to appear.
Banagher opened his eyes that were originally shut and looked over at the sound. He saw a pigeon, leaving footsteps on the sand as it strutted on. It stopped, stared at Banagher, tilted its head, and then continued on without being too wary. Banagher moved his body that felt like it was sealed in wax and tried to pull his head that was nearly buried in sand. Swoosh, as the sound of sand fell, Zinnerman’s arms that were draped over him landed on the ground weakly.
Zinnerman once said before that pigeons were a sign. As pigeons would not move away from a water source, it meant that there was a town or an oasis nearby if they spotted on. Banagher looked around the desert that was devoid of wind and shook his head. He then turned his eyes beside him before the sand on his hair was shaken off, and then reached his hand towards the unmoving Zinnerman, wanted to check if the man with a beard stained white by the sand was breathing or not. The pulse was clearly beating into the fingertips pressing on the carotid, and as he heaved a sigh of relief, the sound of the pigeon suddenly flapping its wings caused his eardrums to rumble. It flew to the sky that was removed from the threat of the simoom, blocked the sun shining down for a while, and then vanished on the other side of the rocky ground.
Banagher undid the mask cloth that was covered with sand and took in fresh air. The sand entered his windpipe, and he coughed, but there was no sign of saliva dampening him. He could only care about spitting the powder-shaped sand in his mouth, supported himself off the rock and straightened his legs. He stared at the haversack that was covered with sand, controlled his swaying feet, and tried to get over to the other side of the rock to observe. The falls of red sand had subsided, and as he looked at the horizon that clearly divided the clear sky and the ground. At that moment, he felt his mind going blank.
After blinking a few times, he reached his hand out for the mouth that was blankly agape. He could feel the rough feeling of the cracked lips and the sound of the sand shaken off the hair, and once he realized that it was not an illusion, he was unable to believe his own eyes. He scampered back to the cover provided by the rock and shook Zinnerman, who was lying on the ground, several times, Captain, calling out in a barely audible voice. After a few times, Zinnerman suddenly opened his eyes and abruptly raised his large body that was buried in sand.
After looking around, Zinnerman turned his still seemingly unfocused eyes at Banagher, who in turn dragged him by the arm without waiting for him to move his mouth. He tried to support the large body that nearly tumbled, probably because his feet were unable to exert strength, and pulled and carried him to the other side of the rock. Zinnerman too opened his mouth in shock after seeing the horizon on the other side. He blinked his eyes that were staring at a single point, used his hand to wipe his face, patted off the sand on his beard, and leaned his neck forward while lying forward.
His face suddenly curled in a smile, and the voice that sounded like coughing echoed deep within his throat. After that, the sound that was spat out with the sand became a muffled laugh, before becoming an extremely loud laughter that echoed through the desert. The captain sees it too. It’s not a mirage. Banagher’s body finally confirmed this as he lost strength in him, and immediately collapsed onto the ground. Zinnerman, who continued to laugh, patted Banagher’s back hard, causing him to nearly fall forward. As his nerves connected within his tense face, he too started to laugh as he sensed that his face muscles could move.
He then patted Zinnerman on the back hard, letting his laughter mix in with the other man’s gruff laughter. How long has it been since I laughed out loud like this? This sudden thought was overwhelmed by the two men’s laughter as Banagher continued to laugh with all his strength. A pigeon which may or may not be the same one as before flapped its wings from another rock and flew to the blue sky on the other side of the horizon.
At the horizon it flew towards, there was a simple stone construct surrounding its edge, and the obvious greenery of coconut trees could be seen shining under the sunlight. Astal ignored the laughing duo as its scenery that probably never changed for hundreds of years appeared at a corner of the desert, clearly indicating that their journey was over.
3 days later.
The fusion reactor rocket engine that was asleep for a week awoke, and the thrusters on the side of the ship let out a roar. A large amount of sand came rising out from the white-hot jet flames, blowing aside the hill of sand buried in the bow, and the “Garencieres” that was lying in the desert rose gradually.
The sand clouds and dust covered the ship body that was 112m in length, and the hot wind could be felt from a 1km away. Banagher faced this storm that was stronger than the simoom, put on his goggles and covered his mouth with his hands. He could see the three wires tied to the bow of the “Garencieres” from beyond the raging sandstorm. The three giants that were originally on standby were were all desert mobile suits that were dyed a brown color, and they were moving, each pulling a wire to drag the bow of the “Garencieres”.
The machine with an armored silhouette was a Zaku-type, and the short and stocky machine with a hover inside the skirt was a Dom-type. All war museums would display these two machines, so Banagher was able to distinguish between them. They were both 1st generation mobile suits, and could be considered relics from the One Year War, but they could be used for manual labor that would be the equivalent for hundreds of men in this large-scale heavy machinery lifting. The giants that were tortured by the sand and dust trampled on the ground as they dragged up the spaceship that was like a giant whale by the portside, and the aft that was moved along was dragged out from the sandy hill as it was revealed. The aft turned towards the large hole left at the side of the ship as the “Garencieres” turned away, but this time, the wire at the aft was pulled up, and the large body of the “Garencieres” started to retreat.
There were also 3 mobile suits pulling the aft, and two of them had bodies of a caterpillar tank at the bottom, looking really strange there. The “Zaku tank” that had a “Zaku” upper body, and the arms were swapped to the easy magic hands, giving the vibe of a large and heavy construction machinery. The “Zaku tanks” were actively digging, and the “Dwadge” mobile suit that was slightly modified from the “Dom” pulled the “Garencieres” backwards as its bow was about to be lifted up. The aft was pulled to the edge of the ole, and the bow was lifted until the ship was tilting about 30 degrees. It then went past a certain point and fell into the hole due to its own weight. As it was about to fall into this 25m hole, the aft that was acting as support was immediately lifted vertically, causing a deep buzzing that rang throughout the desert around them. The thick cloud of dust that gushed out covered the “Garencieres”, and there was the sound of cheers and applause around them.
“Alright, good work!” Zinnerman let out a delighted call to the wireless communicator. Banagher waited for the sand to subside before taking off his goggles, and looked back at the “Garencieres” body that was lifted vertically. The VTOL ship landed perfectly under gravity conditions, and looked like a rocket ready to launch into space. Once the fuel it required was filled, the “Garencieres” should be able to launch whenever it wanted to.
It had been 2 days since he barely made contact through the phone in Astal, and the Zeon remnants and the people from Mauritania. The “Garencieres” was finally pulled up with strengthened wires attached based on the ship’s calculated toughness and a dug hole, a result of the work of mobile suits that worked tirelessly. “Amazing…” Banagher could only exclaim with honest amazement. Excluding the part that was sunk in the pothole, the “Garencieres” that stood in the desert was still 90m tall, about the height of a 40 story building, and one would think of the large Tower of Babel that appeared in the Bible. It seemed Zinnerman had the same feeling as well as he looked up at his ship a while after his contact with the wireless communicator. His face was saying, “Now we can get out of this damned place”, and he was filled with emotions as the word relieved would not be able to describe it completely.
“I want to thank you. If not for you, I might have collapsed out of fatigue on the way.”
That face suddenly spoke up calmly, causing Banagher to feel shocked. Banagher thought about how since he mentioned it at this point, they had not talked to each other. “Since when…” he felt his face heating up as he immediately answered, and his stare escaped towards the mobile suits that were walking loudly.
“I didn’t do anything. All I did was to pull you down.”
“Not exactly. It feels different to have someone I can talk to on the way. Your stubbornness is really quite an eye opener.”
Zinnerman smiled once he met Banagher slightly in the eyes. It seemed that all the suffering they went through paid off as well, and Banagher felt doubtful about his own feelings as he lowered his head. Behind them, Flaste seemed to have heard their conversation, “Man”, as he shrugged his shoulders.
“There goes the captain’s bad habit again. Is the Garencieres going to have a new member?”
Flaste showed a wry grin at Banagher, and it was not full of spite like the previous few days. These unexpected words entered their hearts, and Banagher looked back at Zinnerman’s face in a flustered manner. Zinnerman himself avoided the stare as he glared at Flaste, saying, “Is it fine for you to dilly-dally around like this?”
“They’re guerillas, but they’re an organization basically made up of illegal residents. Watch carefully and don’t let them wreck the ship.”
“Okay okay okay, I’ll try to be the demon supervisor… THAT “ZAKU” OVER THERE! DIDN’T I SAY THAT IT’S TOO EARLY TO RELEASE THE ROPE!?”
Flaste yelled into the wireless communicator as his face really became that of a demon supervisor as he ran right at the mobile suit that was moving around the sand. Banagher stared at the back profile that looked really carefree; and carelessly thought that they might be able to get along. However, he again felt a sense of doubt with this sense of belonging he seemed to have found. “Every unit is to hurry up with the checks. We’ll leave the desert tomorrow.” Zinnerman spoke behind Banagher, who looked up at the “Garencieres” that looked dazzling in the sun.
The “Unicorn” is sleeping inside there. I suppose we’ll be searching for the “Box” once we are ready to move out. Logically, the Federation army won’t sit back and watch this. Since there’re many mobile suits mobbing, they’ve probably grasped our movements. More than half of the Zeon remnants are guerilla organizations with illegal residents, but they’re not to be underestimated. If these people assist in the search for the “Box”, it’s not hard to imagine that Earth will be caught in a commotion again.
So, what should I do at that moment? Banagher let the sky enter his eyes as he recalled the crew members of the “Nahel Argama” that felt exceptionally distant. And then, a pair of emerald eyes suddenly appeared in his mind. Audrey Burne—the girl called Mineva Zabi was on Earth as well. She was definitely bothered and hesitant somewhere under this sky.
I really want to meet. The thought that rose from deep within clung onto Banagher’s heart, and as he clenched without much of a aim, the sound of a jet engine was mixed in together with the sound of the wind. Banagher immediately got into a defensive position as he looked around, and saw a small machine appearing from behind a sand dune.
It was an old VTOL carrier, and was similar to an old Cessna-class as it flew over Banagher’s head as he was watching. “Don’t worry, that machine contacted us.” Zinnerman said from behind, and Banagher looked where it flew. The VTOL carrier whiffed up sand and dust beside the “Zaku Tank” at the mobile suits the remnant army sent over, and landed with refined movements on the sandy ground, in front of the “Desert Zakus” that were tied in wires. The hatch on the side of the machine opened, and a person clad in black got up from the pilot seat.
The slender figure swayed amidst the mirage as it was covered in black cloth. Banagher saw that ethnic Arabian attire on television before… Is that a local? He stared at the silhouette that approached, identified the color of the eyes that were revealed between the gap of the clothes, and gasped, as the emerald eyes similar to Audrey’s were right in front of me.
“You’re Captain Suberoa Zinnerman, right?”
The silhouette ignored Banagher, who gulped, and asked with a clear voice. “That’s me. Who’re you?” Zinnerman answered, and the visitor removed the cloth below her nose.
“I’m Loni Garvey. I’m here on my father’s behest.”
Her brown face showed the same sparkling eyes as Audrey, and Banagher felt that she was of a similar age as his. He reflected on the beautiful-sounding name, and harbored a pressurized feeling while staring at the side of the girl’s face. Beside him, Zinnerman widened his eyes, “Father…I see, so you’re Madhi Garvey’s daughter?” Loni suddenly smiled and said,
“My father wants to meet you. Please come along with me.”
“It really doesn’t matter, but where is Mr Madhi?”
“He booked a hotel at Dakar.”
Zinnerman immediately showed a change in expression the moment he heard these unexpected words, “…Sound doesn’t sounds like we’re talking about business here.” In response, Loni kept the smile in her eyes. Banagher had a premonition about this and closed his jaw slightly.
“We heard of the information regarding the “Box”. The next coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program is Dakar…it seems that my father set up an appointment there to discuss with you.”
These words caused Banagher to recall what he forgot in his mind. The guide leading to the “Box”, the Laplace Process, had showed a new coordinates—and while Banagher turned his head inadvertently, Zinnerman did not look over at him as he turned his tense bearded face at Loni, saying “I understand, please wait for me to get prepared”, before leaving the place. Banagher felt that something was falling out of his grasp, but was unable to say anything as he watched the other man leave. “Are you the pilot of the ‘breaking horn’?” At this moment, Loni asked, and Banagher’s shoulders shuddered in shock the moment he heard it.
“‘Breaking horn’?”
“Isn’t that the mobile suit you’re piloting? I heard that it’ll split its horn, and the machine will become a “Gundam”.”
Loni showed her white teeth as she said that, and her adult-like expression which had a childish glint caused Banagher to gulp.
“You’re young, just like what I heard. If possible, you should come along?”
“Me too…?”
“You’re a Spacenoid, right? It’s not like you’ll lose anything if you visit Dakar. That is the capital of our enemy…the Federation government anyway.”
Loni turned around without waiting for Banagher to answer. Banagher wanted to argue that he did not think that way, but his voice was stuck in his throat as he could only watch Loni’s lean and petite figure. The new coordinates shown by the Laplace Program was at the capital of the Federation government, Dakar. He could not comprehend the meaning behind this, but he knew that things were spiraling downwards as he looked up at the “Garencieres” lifted before him. The dusty and sandy wind blew by, teasing his body for being unable to think of a next step.
The voice that was heard from the headphone sounded like water flowing under the floor. Swoosh, kok kok, such irregular sounds seemed similar to the sounds that would be made when changing water pipes.
“…I don’t know.”
The sonar operator opened his closed eyes and took off the headphones from his ears. The two on-duty crewmen beside him looked over at the sonar panel to check that all the functions were working properly, and then put their headphones back onto the console hook. The dim lighting of the sonar room showed the wry faces of shrugs, and Adi, who sat on the duty officer chair, felt a sense of despair.
The 42-year-old sonar operator was relatively experienced even amongst the highly experienced NCOs. When Adi was still a toddler learning how to walk, the sonar operator had already got onto the submarine. In terms of reading sonar, there was no doubt that the sonar operator was Adi’s senior, but he lacked sensibility. The sonar operator was used to not using his imagination, and kept following the conclusion made by the sonar receiver. However, no matter how advanced technology was, a submarine crew member required instinctive intuition and the ingenuity of a craftsman.
“This is the sound detected by the passive sonar 30 minutes ago. It really did not feel like the wavelength of a jet engine, and the sound does seem to flicker from time to time.
Of course, it was impossible for a rookie sonar operator who just got assigned here half a year ago to criticize him face to face. Adi put the sampling number of the audio record into the analyzing monitor, and cautiously said,
“However, there is a regular rhythm in the sound we received. This really doesn’t sound like an underground volcano activity. Some submarines amongst the old nuclear submarines would let out such sounds. If we can compare it with HQ’s database…”
The analyzing monitor showed uneven waveforms. Despite the ship database showing a lack of match, there was no guarantee that this was not a sound from the propulsion system of a submarine. At this point, the screw propellers would only be used when navigating on the water surface, and when submerged, the fusion water jet engine that produced less noise would be used. However, a noiseless propeller system technology had already been the subject of research ever since the old centuries, when USA and the Soviet Union were in the midst of their cold war. The sound displayed on the curve was similar in some extents the early silent propulsion system.
Adi probably would have viewed this as a noise created by natural phenomenon if he had not found past records in the library of the submarine school. He continued to increase the intensity level of the sound analyzing monitor, but the sonar operator gave him a sighing voice, “I say, Adi…”
“It’s a good thing to be passionate about your research, and I admit that your ears are very sensitive. However, this isn’t a group activity a student’s doing here. Is it possible for a nuclear submarine in the old times to appear here? It’s true that some certain old century submarines are still in service, but their facilities are already upgraded. Do you feel that anyone will still use those antiques that are shelved outside the ship’s database.”
The sonar operator stood up, got behind the duty crew member, and put his hand on his fat waist. He, who had maintained a nice slim figure when he was young, finally succumbed to the biggest enemy of a submarine crew member, a lack of exercise. What was worse was that the food provided in submarines were the best in the army.
“Listen up, we’re looking for a spaceship here, a spaceship of those Zeon remnants who pulled off this one heck of an acrobatic and fell into the Atlantic Ocean. They definitely injected water inside the ship and submerged underwater. It’s impossible for that ship to make the noise of a water jet engine, and it’s definitely more impossible to make the sound an ancient nuclear engine. You’ll just hear the sound of the ship hull being compressed because of this unexpected submersion, and that should be what you’re looking for. The navy isn’t giving you expensive equipment just to satisfy your own interests.
The words that pressed down on Adi’s head caused him to feel that it was no different from the water pressure pressing down on the ship body. He lowered his dejected face, “Yes” and put on the headphones again. The sonar operator snorted, pulled his stomach in and passed behind the duty crew member to leave the sonar room that could be said to be as cramped as a can of sardines.
The curtain rail that was used as a separation was pulled aside, and the air came flowing into the sonar room from the neighboring command room. Unlike the cramped sonar room, the command room that was 10m wide would often have 10 important crew members ranked below the captain working there. To the Earth Federation Submarine EFS “Bonefish”, this block was basically functioning as a brain. The sonar room that was connected directly to it had to use the sonar sensors equipped inside the ship to act as the ears as far as possible, and report the situation around the ship to the central command. All duties were handled mechanically in rhythm in this 200m long Juneau-class submarine, and this was one of the organs supporting it.
At this point, the submarine was 300m in depth. It was moving at 10 knots per hour as it moved between the African continent and the South American continent. The Atlantic Ocean below the equator continued to search below the wide ocean space approximately 50m below. This belt of mountains underwater in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean was called the Romansh fault zone. As the young crust formed here had some magnetic minerals, it was very difficult for the sonar sensor to detect. If the Neo Zeon spaceship wanted to hide, this would be the most suitable space. The precipitous reefs around the fault were also in the way of the search, but it was imaginable that the enemy would not submerge too deep. Even if they have similar air capacity, the pressure resistance specifications of a spaceship would still be far inferior to a submarine. If they wanted to sink deeper, they would be crushed by the water pressure before their allied forces came to save them.
No, basically, it was worth doubting whether there were forces on Earth that could be considered their ally. It had been three days since they started the search, and the underwater search monitor only showed signs of reefs, and the source of this sound that was detected was the allied ship that was carrying out the search at the same time. The mood in this submarine that was under the normal marine department felt as relaxing as naval training, and the crew all forgot about the tension they had when they started launching. Adi felt that he was quickly losing interest in the source of this unknown sound as he sighed. Beside him, Corporal Genon heard him out and said, “Don’t think too much about it.”
“The sonar operator is an athletic type who became famous for football, so he can’t get along with an academic-based man like you.”
Genon took down the headphones on his ears as he smiled, “But I do feel that it’s not an ancient nuclear submarine as well. There’s no response on the sound screen anyway, so I think you probably heard the sigh of a “Sea Ghost”.”
“A sea ghost?”
“it’s just a rumor. About half a month ago, the SOSUS detected an unknown sound at the Atlantic control branch. At that time, they were wondering if there was a system malfunction…”
The so-called SOSUS was a defense system spread throughout all oceans in the world by using the sonar receptor embedded at the seabed. This system was particularly concentrated at the ports of several constituent countries, and it was not a laughable affair when the SOSUS of the Atlantic near the Federation government capital, Dakar malfunctioned. “Why doesn’t this news get reported?” Adi pointed out.
“Because the system is just titular decorations after the Zeon remnants navy got dispersed. They’re scared that the budget will be cut if they reported this malfunction.”
“Is that so…”
“It seemed that the people from my dad’s time even had a fierce fight with Zeon’s “Mad Anglers”, but currently, it’s impossible for the diving fleet to meet actual battle anyway. Even our “Bonefish” is an old granny of 17 ship years. The navy would have been toast together with the army if not for the consideration of unemployment. In this age, the reason why everyone can live is all because of the space forces.”
“Then why did you join the army?”
“To obey my parents. If the son isn’t serving in the army, the retired officer living off pension will be sent to space. At their age, I don’t want to send them to live in the colony. Aren’t you the same?”
As Genon glanced over at him, “I…” Abi could only mumble as he turned to look at the sonar board. Adi’s father was a NCO in the navy, and without that relationship, there was no way he could have entered the army. Deep inside his heart, he did think that he could continue to remain on Earth as long as he stayed in the navy, but he did not choose to join the navy simply because of self-preservation. He simply loved ships, not the ships flying around in space, but a real ship that moved on the sea.
Due to his father’s occupation, he was often near a base in his youth. Perhaps it was because of this that he loved the sea ever since he was young. Adi always respected his father, who was awarded a shiny dolphin mark that was hung in front of his chest, and the bedtime stories that were told when he was young left him longing for the sea. The singing of the whales that could be detected from the sonar, the beauty of the sea surface at sunset, the mobile suits of Zeon that looked like Krakens', and the suffocating intense battles against enemy submarines—especially at the end of the One Year War, where the great naval battle near the coast of Jaburo, the old headquarters of the Federation army, took place. Adi kept begging his father to keep talking about that story, and he did not know how many times he heard it.
When he was young, Adi hoped to enter the navy when he was young and board a submarine. Despite him becoming distant from his father in his youth like ordinary people, he never lost sight of this aim. He successfully entered naval cadet academy, got more points than what was required to graduate through extra-curriculum studying, and was given the right to be assigned to the “Bonefish”, considered the newest submarine even as the naval fleet’s equipment were stagnated. It was of the same class of submarine as the one Adi’s father rode on in the War, both Juneau-class ship and Adi definitely understood its structure and capabilities as well as the captain. He enthusiastically embarked on his first voyage, but the seas after the war was different from what his father said. It was not a place of adventure.
After two Neo Zeon wars, the Zeon remnants left on Earth were basically swept, and the ones were merely some sporadic terrorist attacks from guerilla forces. Earth did not experience a real large scale war for 5 years. Despite the Neo Zeon forces that were derogatorily called “Sleeves”, the uprisings normally happened in space, and it was completely unrelated to the navy, especially the diving fleet that would only remain underwater.
“I heard that the battle before caused the relic of “Laplace” to be wrecked.”
Genon changed the topic. Adi remembered seeing the debris of that official residence in low orbit through the window when he went on a space camp in primary school. He added on, “Looks that way.”
“They said that the Neo Zeon ship crashed into Earth together with the relic there…those aliens were really persistent.”
Genon gave a wry look as he put the headphone back on to end this idle chat time. That’s right, those aliens have come to our territory. Adi thought about that again as he held onto the headphone tightly. The space forces did not know about the seas, so if a commotion in space is dragged to the sea, we’re the only ones who can respond. Adi mused in his head as he looked back to inspect on the various functions on the console.
He inspected the underwater search monitor that could recreate the situation at the seabed through CG and the sound screen that showed the shape of the target through the active sonar reflected off the bottom of the sea. The main sonars that were installed on the bow and the sides, separated equally, could block off all excessive sounds and concentrate the detected sounds inside the head phones. The excessive sounds here would refer to the machine sounds from the “Bonefish” itself and the fusion water jet engines installed on both sides letting out sounds of sea water being stirred.
The air pressure from Earth to space would actually go from one to zero, but in water, the water pressure would increase according to the depth. Considering that the place was not suited for humans to live in, a seabed of 300m was an isolated zone like space. Even if the enemy spaceship sank into the bottom of the ocean, it was not easy to save it. However, there was a chance that the Zeon remnants had a submarine for rescue. Adi closed his eyes, put his elbow on the console and paid whole attention to listen out for the sound. He pricked his ears upon hearing the water flow that sounded like it was shaking an old pipe, and wanted to identify the enemy presence that was submerged underwater.
The area around the submarine was darkness, where light could not return. If there were windows, it was possible that they would be seeing darkness that was darker than space. Above this place was the ocean surface, sky and space where there were tens of billions living there. What kind of people do the people living in the colonies see us as? Adi gave a wry smile as he suddenly thought about him. He, who remained on Earth, stayed in a large metal tube that was moving at the bottom of the sea. It seemed that the people who moved to the space colonies called Earth as a gravity well, so people like him probably drew the short stick of the gravity well by staying over here—
Gonk! At this moment, the blunt sound of metal knocking into each other rang in Adi’s ears.
The hand that was pressed on the headphone immediately tightened up, and he looked over at Genon beside him. It seemed that the other man heard the same sound too. Adi turned his pale face, worked on the console, pulled out the problematic sounds, corrected them, and stared at the round screen of the sonar radar. Soon, the screen showed an orange light, and a sound beeping alarm rang as it entered Adi’s ears.
There were no matches. It was impossible to detect the propeller noises, but something was approaching gradually from the starboard. The distance was less than 1,000 meters, and an unknown metallic sound continued to ring. Adi only called about taking up the wireless communicator microphone in the ship as he yelled, “COMMAND, THIS IS THE SONAR!”
“Sonar detected, position 132. Target speed estimated at 30 knots.”
The metallic sound that had a mysterious rhythm to it did not stop. As Adi and Genon were carrying out their own identifications, the voices of the captain and the sonar operator rang inside the sonar room. The captain looked skinnier as compared to the sonar operator, and he looked less lively as before due to a recent gastric ulcer surgery. However, to a marine, the captain was still a respected figure, “What do you think that is?” Adi saw the captain lower his head to stare at him, and tensed up as he answered,
“I don’t know. This sounds different from a torpedo tube being opened, but it still does sound metallic. I’m guessing that it’s a machine running…most likely, the sound of an actuator running.”
Adi finished, and he himself felt that this was the case. This deep ringing sound that persisted on did seem similar to a crane or a similarly large machine. The sonar operator said, “This guy’s a rookie, but his ears are sharp.” The captain put the standby headphones over his ears and put his mouth to the nearby wireless communicator microphone. “Command, this is the captain speaking. Get the torpedo crew to position. Head east and prepare room for vessel operations. Increase speed by 10.”
Ting, ding. The speed indicator rang, and as the submarine sped up as it changed its course, the inertia that was caused started to act on the bodies. The sonar operator put his hands on Adi’s to support himself, and it seemed that he was praising the rookie for responding quickly. The competing sense of delight and tension rose in him as he looked tense while operating on the console, “Target’s increasing in speed!” but was shocked by Genon’s called.
“Distance at 800. Coming right at us!”
The flickering on the radar was quickly approaching the circle. It went passed 40 knots, the fastest speed a Juneau-class could move in water. The captain with an obvious black-ethnic blood immediately turned pale and commanded to the wireless communicator. “Command, increase speed by 10 again. Go full throttle.” At the same time, the sonar operator yelled “Hit the piner!” and Adi immediately pressed the active sonar on the console.
KONG!A shrill sound spread through the speakers, rocking the ship body of the “Bonefish”. The reflected waves bounced through the machine 4 times faster than it was in air, and the target silhouette appeared on the sound screen. One could feel that everyone present gasped.
As both sides were basically maintaining the same height, the shape of that thing was definitely how it looked from the front. However, the target’s silhouette was extremely abnormal. It was shaped like a flat rhombus, its longest length was 80m long, and its height was more than 30m tall. Looking at its shape, it was most definitely not a submarine, or rather, it was far from an ideal submarine. Also, the target was changing shapes from time to time as it approached the submarine underwater at a high speed.
“Is that the sea ghost…?”
The captain mused. The object continued to approach with its propeller system still silent, charging right at the starboard of the “Bonefish” that turned back. It doesn’t have a fusion water jet engine, so why it is able to move so freely in the sea? Adi’s mind went blank as the sonar operator pushed him aside to work on the sonar board. “60! It’ll crash into us directly!” he warned. “Emergency evasion…” the captain ordered in the wireless communicator, “Too late!” but Genon yelled louder as the sudden feeling of death that came caused Adi’s body to stiffen.
I’ll die in such a place. I haven’t done anything yet. I’m not as active as dad, and I never experienced such adventures. The sunsets, whale songs, everything, I haven’t experienced—
“IMPACT!”
The captain’s voice that sounded like a scream rang in the ears. Then, the sound of metal being ripped echoed through the ship, and Adi was thrown off the ship.
Genon too was knocked aside, and the captain and sonar operator had their backs crashed into the wall. The alarm rang, the lights were flickering, and Adi heard the sound of the ship being crushed. A large amount of seawater was rushing in through the ripped shape, and the hull where up and down could not be identified continued to sink. The sea ghost that bared its sea monster-like fangs gnawed the entire submarine to shreds—and Adi’s consciousness faded as he swallowed the fear his father never experienced.
The ‘claw’ that penetrated through the rubber-like sound-absorbing material cut a hole through the belly of the submarine and pulled it out.
The high pressure of air inside the ballast tanks spurted out of the crack, and the “Bonefish” was surrounded by the forceful air bubbles. The seawater replaced the air as it flowed in, tilting the submarine to the right, and the buoyancy was completely negated as the “Bonefish” sank to the bottom of the sea. The hull hit the seabed violently, and before the dust of the reefs being scattered spread in the sea, the object nicknamed the sea ghost started to float slowly.
The unit had 3 sharp claws on its pair of arms—or rather, forelegs, and they bend back with the sound of the actuator ringing. The part that was installed at the base of the arms were arched shaped armor that looked like shells, and from the front, its silhouette looked like a flattened rhombus, but it was merely a small part of this complicated model. The gigantic arms and narrow streamlined body made its mechanical silhouette look like a crustacean residing in the sea, while the rear end of the body looked like a hermit crab that was much larger in volume than the body. Looking down from above, its front end had the form of a spade, and it was reminiscent of a raptor. The part that looked like a head had a crack on it, and one could see a brightly glowing ‘eye’ inside.
The mono-eye sensor that was first developed by the old Principality of Zeon flickered, and the air bubbles carried its back that was giving off air bubbles as it started to leave the bottom of the seabed that was in eternal darkness. Its arms turned behind, overlapping with the armor on its shoulders, and changed its form. The arms turned behind, shelved in with the shoulders armors. It changed its form to become a completely streamlined body, but the form itself showed no sense of submersion at all. It was possible to find such machines that were shaped like monsters in this Minovsky Particle era of weapons, weapons that were half similar to a mobile suit—mobile armors. The AMA-X7 “Shamblo” flipped over its large body that looked like a kraken as it moved amidst the high pressure of the deep sea. The Magneto Hydro Dynamics (MHD) units installed within its shoulder armor continued to let out a different noise from the fusion water jet engine as it changed its course horizontally at a depth of around 100m.
Unlike mobile suits that were fixed to be humanoid mobile weapons, mobile armors were not fixed in shape. As long as it could satisfy its original purpose, the size of it did not matter, and the limbs that controlled the unit’s mobility need not be limited to limbs alone. The “Shamblo” itself was no exception, and in fact, it looked like a submarine that had arms for combat, but the unique trait was that only a few pilots were needed to operate this, unlike a submarine that required many people. There was a cockpit block with a linear structure in the middle of this unit that could be considered a motor fortress—and over there, one could see Mahdi Garvey seated on the captain seat, looking down at the CG corrected seabed image.
There was a wide space akin to that of a shuttle control room in this cockpit, and there was a wall of screen right at the front. There were three operating seats in front of the screen, one to operate, one to detect, and one to defend. The captain’s seat controlled the attacks, and there was a very large and high space behind the cockpit. Of course, the captain’s seat could control everything in this system when things were critical.
The screen replicated the scenes in the sea through the combined information obtained from the nightvision cameras and the sonar, and the enemy submarine that was sunk was giving of air bubbles and floating materials that scattered everyone. Walid and Abbas, 2 young men that were old enough to have beards, were seated on the operating and detection seats respectively as they stared at that scene. The only female, Loni was seated on the defense seat as she continued to stare at the screen. Mahdi saw that her delicate shoulders were tensed up, “Are you scared, Loni?” and asked her from the behind the console of the captain’s seat. The light brown face covered by the helmet visor turned around, “Yes, father.” and Loni’s black eyes looked anxious as she answered.
“That’s good. Those who aren’t willing to show emotions will not be able to handle things coolly when something unexpected happens. Abbas, Walid, watch carefully too. We just killed more than 200 enemies. There’ll be more bloodshed after this, so don’t you look away from the corpses of the enemies.
“Yes.” Abbas and Walid answered in unison as they stared at the blood and entrails. As according to customs that lasted since ancient times, Madhi had many wives and many concubines, and the 3 people in front of him at this point had the purest of bloodline in the Garvey family. Madhi really wanted to let his deceased father, who was unable to see the faces of his grandchildren, everything, including the first results of the “Shamblo”. Fear and excitement continued to make him feel this way originally, but he immediately changed his mind soon. He thought about how it would not be long before he meets his father, and his beard that had some white hairs in it curled up above his mouth.
It had been more than 6 years since he inherited the inheritance from the First Neo Zeon war and started to build this “Shamblo”. Looking at the remnants of the submarine that sank in front of their eyes, the Earth Federation army would know that the sea ghost was not a mere illusion. Those people would understand immediately that this so-called thing would create a more direct threat to them. The dormant period had ended, and the time to take action had finally arrived. After the several battles in space, the “Box” fell onto Earth—and they were fighting for this “Box” that could topple the Federation government.
However, it was still unknown where the Neo Zeon ship that had the “Box” went. It had been 3 days since they received the report, and Madhi searched around the ocean where they could have possibly crashed into, but there were still no results. He turned his eyes on the seabed search monitor that showed the bits of the enemy submarine that were swimming about. Abbas, who was seated on the central control seat, said, “The “Sleeves” Heavy Lift Vehicles will fall onto Earth immediately, and interrupted with a steady voice befitting that of the eldest son.
“I heard that the “Garencieres” entered the atmosphere in the middle of battle. Is it possible that it broke up in air or split into pieces when it landed in the water?”
“Zinnerman won’t make that mistake. But it’s possible that they went slightly off course and was forced to land in the desert…”
He met the captain of this cargo ship in question, Suberoa Zinnerman once. They had different beliefs, and Madhi felt that the other man was a warrior, but in the end, he felt that the simple truth was that the fate of humans was in God’s hands. The time that was set at Greenwich Standard indicated 6:40 am. After checking the time, Madhi checked the time it would take to reach the HLV reclamation point, decided that it was time to pack up, and lifted his head from the console.
“Can’t be helped. We’ll pause our search for the “Garencieres” for the time being. New course, position 020. Let’s go retake the “Sleeves” HLV.”
His three children repeated this command as they worked on their respective consoles. The MHDs propellers on the shoulders absorbed seawater, and the large body of the “Shamblo” tilted slightly.
The slits on the shoulders took in seawater, and the powerful magnetic field created by the superconductive coil triggered the tube-shaped propellers that would absorb seawater and shoot it backwards in an accelerated manner. The MHD was the earliest system that was developed amongst the silent propulsion systems, but it was soon forgotten because of the similarly silent fusion water jet engines that were becoming commonplace as it lacked output. For a large mobile armor like the “Shamblo” that completely abandoned hydromechanics with its exterior, this was still insufficient, and there was a completely different engine in it.
The machine that was like a large ray quickly spun rode on the water flow raised by the MHD propulsion system, and tilted its slanted position back horizontally. The Minovsky particle spaceship engines that were hidden inside the arms were installations used when a spaceship moved under gravity. It could scatter Minovsky particles regularly and create I-fields to let the object float. The engines the “Shamblo” had were considered amongst the newest amongst the Minovsky era crafts that were becoming smaller, and the seawater that was ionized by the I-field would become the ‘protective layer’, greatly reducing the resistance when diving in the water. This was the result from the Neo Zeon development plans and the Garvey Enterprises developing this. In fact, the expenses for producing a “Shamblo” alone was enough to build a solar generator that could power three basic industries.
However, this was worth it. The “Shamblo” that obtained the power of the Minovsky Craft system would show its real value once it landed. He sat in this cockpit that would not shake, checked that the functions of the “Shamblo” were perfect, and said as if he was muttering to himself, “In the worst case scenario, even if we can’t find the “Garencieres”, there will still be a way.”
“Things are moving. The fact that Full Frontal, who remained completely silent before this is hurriedly sending reinforcements over here is the best proof. Also, with this “Shamblo”, I can look forward to settling the hundred years of grudge as a “descendant of Dubai”…”
Loni merely moved her head slightly as the three children did not say anything. They bore the tragic fate of their race and the power to topple the current situation. Madhi stared at the backs of the trio and looked over at the sea surface that was rippling 100m above. The CG corrected screen showed the sea surface, radiating with what he believed to be a Holy light, indicating for sure that Allah existed, and seemed to be blessing the “Shamblo” that managed to succeed in its first battle.
The large body of the “Shamblo” continued to move in the water as it shook the Neo Zeon medal that was a mere formality. The weak propulsion sound was not detected by the sonar’s eyes as the machine disappeared deep within the veil of the thick seawater.
“It sank?”
Ronan Marcenas could not help but parrot the other person’s words as he lifted his head from the documents he read halfway. “Yes.” Patrick answered as he put the readied information onto the table.
“Vice Admiral Ted privately contacted us. The rescue team is currently sent to the water site, but the chances of the crew surviving are despairingly slim…”
It seemed that Patrick’s words tailed off weakly not just because he was feeling compassionate about the submarine that was sunk. Ever since the Neo Zeon ship that took in the “Unicorn” dropped onto Earth, Patrick had been busy running around the area where he was contesting for elections, and had to become the relay man between the Senate Council that included Ronan, and the Central Intelligence Branch. Ronan looked away from his anxious looking son-in-law as he picked up the information that had the works for internal use and quickly browsed through it.
The EFS “Bonefish” last sent a distress signal at the Atlantic Ocean, and lost signal after that. It was not hard to imagine that the military vessel that went to search for a Neo Zeon ship made contact with a Zeon remnant that was looking for the same target, and was sunk before it could fight back. Ronan looked at the crew list that had no purpose other than to act as a list of names, and muttered deep within his heart, Are these martyrs for the “Box”? He then took off his reading glasses and put aside the stacked information. This is retribution for dealing with the unemployment issue so carelessly, huh?”, he mused as he turned his chair to the window behind him. The office that retained light extremely well in this residence was basked in the midst of the scorching afternoon sunlight.
“The Minovsky particles jamming the sensors aren’t the cause of this incident. After the war ended, the reason why no one went to repair the surveillance network destroyed by Zeon was because people wanted to leave the surveillance job to the Earth military. That’s why it’s so troublesome to search for a ship that dropped onto Earth. Even if the remnant army managed to build up their forces, the current situation is such that the military is unable to grasp information about them. There’s no need to let people waste their lives like this if the surveillance satellites of the same level as before the war are still functioning in the first place…”
Patrick showed neither affirmation nor negation as he turned his face to Ronan. It was no wonder, as Ronan’s era was the one that established this system, while his era would be the one forced to pay the price. Ronan rubbed his eyes and held his sigh in forcefully as he looked back at Patrick with an appropriate look to his first secretary, and said, “Then, how are things proceeding?” Patrick took out the other information tucked under his armpit and spoke,
“I sieved through the namelist the vice-admiral handed over. This one should be most suitable.”
Ronan put on his glasses as he glanced at the information with the data. “Commander of Londo Bell, Captain Bright Noa…” he read as he looked up at Patrick, “So he came down to Earth?”
“He rode on the “Ra Cailum” to the Far East in order to test the newly equipped Minovsky Craft. This man is a commander, but he is also acting as a captain at the same time. I suppose it’s because he is a man who’s born to be on a ship, and I do find him a serious and upright person.”
“This man is stubborn. You’ve at least heard of his name, right?”
“Of course. To a young man like me, he’s a hero in the past anyway. I was engrossed when I read about the “Battle records of White Base.”
“The legend that time caused misunderstandings about him, and he was excluded from the mainstream military. The higher ups thought that he had thoughts of rebelling…to put it simply, they suspect him as a Newtype. After that, the Senate Council seemed like it had intentions of pulling him out, but he was merely satisfied with acting as commander of Londo Bell from the sidelines. Well, he’s not a man suited for politics.”
Ronan spoke of what he saw on the surface, “Can you rein him in?” and gave a probing look. Patrick did not avoid his father-in-law’s stare as he answered,
“That “Nahel Argama” belongs to Londo Bell. It had been severed from contact with the command of Londo Bell ever since the ship was loaned out to the Senate Council. To a man like Captain Bright, he will be tense over being unable to contact a ship under his command, let alone knowing that the ship is involved with the previous terrorist attacks.”
There’s hope if we go in from there, Ronan felt somewhat chilly in his heart as he saw Patrick’s face indicate this as such. He imagined how this man who was known for his sportsmanship, was gradually being dyed in the color of politics, and felt both reliable and guilty. He took off his reading glasses and gave the other man a serious look, “Is the “Nahel Argama” stuck in its orbit?”
“it’s the doing of the Vist Foundation. The crew on the “Nahel Argama” are directly involved in these incidents. If they come out to testify, the allies supporting the Foundation will be in danger.”
“In other words, if they’re still in the hands of the Senate Council, we have nothing to sue the Foundation with. Also, the Earth military searching the “Sleeves” are under the Foundation’s watch. We need to get a pawn here. This pawn must have a sharp mind and must know how to deal with complicated situations.
Ronan stared over at the photo of Captain Bright which looked resilient and upright, and tapped his index finger on the table. After about 3 seconds, he made his decision and put the stack of information into the drawer, saying, “Help me arrange a meeting with him.”
“Looking at how we can’t survive without the tension of war, the Earth military is more reliant than the space military. The news that Mineva Zabi accepted our protection has probably reached the Foundation’s ears. You have to proceed cautiously.”
“Alright. Meet in Dakar?”
“No, this place is good. Make it quick. I can’t leave Dakar for too long.”
It would take slightly more than 2 hours to fly from Atlanta to Dakar if he rode on the Hypersonice Transport (HST). He could return back immediately if he wanted to, but he did not want to talk about measures to be taken against the “Box” at the Parliament where the reporters would work in shifts and patrol there. He saw his first secretary nod his head, turned around, and wanted to look away, but recalled something as he called out to the other man facing away from him, “Patrick.” The son-in-law seemed like he detected the slight change in tone as he turned his face around and looked over his own shoulder.
“…Eh, are you still on good terms with Cynthia?”
Ronan sensed that his words at this point seemed hollow as compared to before, but he could not help but continue his words fluently. Cynthia did not know that the person called Audrey Burne was Mineva Zabi herself, and she was completely locked out of the loop in this battle for the Box”, but there was no reason why the very instinctive daughter of the Marcenas family would not detect the heinous air inside and outside the family. Ronan did hear from the butler Dwiyon secretly that Cynthia was feeling more and more frustrated with Patrick for being unwilling to say anything, and a cold wind was blowing amidst their relationship.
Patrick showed a somewhat unexpected look, “Please don’t worry.” and answered as he relaxed his mouth. That delicate smile showed a concern for the father-in-law, and also looked like it was teasing a man who was clumsy when it came to domestic affairs.
“She is becoming a little nervous, but she is an adult. It seems that she’s getting along well with Miss Mineva…Audrey too.”
“Really?”
“But please find a chance to explain to her. She’s a member of the Marcenas’ family after all.”
I’m just an outsider after all these words that came out of left field entered Ronan’s unprepared heart, and Patrick left the office. This would be the fate of a man who did not care about his family, doing something he was not used to doing. He endured the pain that crept into his chest, pushed back the leather chair and got up. He stood at the window and looked at the courtyard where the sun shone down on.
The Dogwood trees that surrounded the residence were growing light pink flowers. The Late April of Southern USA accepted summer faster than the Northern Hemisphere. The greenness got thicker, and Ronan, who was fascinated by this scene under the shining sun, heard the sound of the horse galloping far away , and looked over there. He saw the horse rushing through the Dogwood.
He recognized that the hands holding onto the reins belonged to Riddhe, who had his legs tucked tightly around the horse’s abdomen, and he lowered himself such that his chest nearly touched the horse’s neck. The face that became one with the horse appeared and vanished between the gaps of the trees. He critiqued the school’s British horse-riding the school taught as boring, learnt Western horse-riding on his own, and did not look elegant at this point. He looked very different from the high class people, and was racing as if he wanted to be primitive like the horse, but his flowing blond hair was so beautiful it throbbed in Ronan’s heart, who watched his son ride on the horse until he disappeared. His hair color looked like golden flames that were bursting with all sorts of emotions in his heart—
However, there was a tinge of dark shadow on his back. He managed to remain oblivious to the truth until a few days ago, but after knowing how fragile the base supporting this world was, he looked like he was racing on the horse while trying to shake off the shadow on him. But no matter how he dashed, those things could not be shaken away. Whether it was the truth about the “Laplace Box” or the destiny that await the Marcenas family, Riddhe could only view them as part of him and try to accept it as he continued. Ronan sighed deeply as he turned his back against the window. He could not shake off the galloping sound he once heard as it remained in his extremely unhappy body.
She heard before that there were no animals that were more sensitive to human emotions than horses. If the person on the saddle was filled with vigor, the horse would be willing to listen to the command; if the rider showed any fear, the horse would look down on the rider. It seemed that the horse could detect even a bluff as it would suddenly stop and move at times and do disobedient things to the rider. As its appearance showed, a horse was probably a very proud living creature.
At this point, this horse that was racing definitely understood its rider’s feelings. This Anglo Arabic horse let its pitch black mane sway as it ran around the outskirts of the wide courtyard, seemingly becoming one with Riddhe Marcenas. Even if someone stood on the terrace and looked down, that person could sense how the duo became one, and Mineva Zabi felt amazed by this. That horse looked like it really trusted Riddhe, or it would not be racing so quickly like that.
However, it was a little saddening to see it like that. The rider looked like he wanted to vent all the frustrations he accumulated for a long time as he was forced to pick up the reins, and the horse that felt its rider’s emotions looked somewhat fearful. The rider wanted to run away from something he could not shake off no matter what he did, and the horse looked like it was racing with fire burning on it…would its feet not be burned if it raced like that?
As Mineva thought, she subconsciously thought of poking her body out from the parapet of the terrace, and sensed someone behind her. Cynthia Marcenas appeared as she stood at the glass door that was pushed aside, and she met Mineva in the eyes as she said, “Its name is Pligrim, a horse Riddhe’s been taking care for a while.” She showed a smile that had no other intention as she strolled over while her blond hair fluttered. Mineva felt somewhat guilty in her heart as she avoided the stare of the other person.
“It’s not a horse that’s easy to tame, but for some reason, it’s extremely close to Riddhe. If I want to ride on it, it’ll definitely look away first. However, it’s been 3 years since that child left the house.”
Cynthia stood beside her and looked over, “How about you try to ride on it?” it was obvious from her stare that she was trying to test. “No thanks…” Mineva answered as she looked back at the courtyard.
Mineva remembered that when she was young, during the time when the Neo Zeon space fortress “Axis” was still around, she had some beginner lessons on horse riding at a colony somewhere. It was too awkward to see the regent and her people look at her worriedly, and she once rode on a horse and sprinted off without listening to advice. However, she did not think that she could ride on that horse in her current state of mind. Even if she asked Riddhe to help her hold the reins, it would only bother the horse that would be carrying 2 people. Cynthia looked down at Riddhe that was riding on the horse, “He’s really a useless child.” She sighed as she mused, and Mineva did not feel comfortable hearing this.
“He’s always been like this in the past, always unable to hide what he was thinking, and never cared about the people around him when he put his mind to him. He’s already everywhere at once, but he’s attracted to small details for some reason, so he’ll always bear everything by himself alone.”
This is really a rather accurate correct analysis. Mineva felt impressed that Riddhe’s relative was able to see through him so thoroughly, but felt a little depressed as she thought about how she had not been talking to Riddhe during this while, and looked away to the sky.
It had been 3 days since the time she first stayed at the Marcenas’ residence. Riddhe was often not home as he had to deal with the repairs of the “Delta Plus” that was left at base and other things, so she did not have the chance to talk to him, while Ronan and Patrick would constantly avoid her. The ones who would meet her were Cynthia and Dwiyon, and it was obvious that the men with status were unwilling to meet her. Cynthia too detected this unnatural atmosphere—but to her, the girl should be the source of this strange phenomenon. Mineva thought about this, felt that the sunlight that could shine in her became uncomfortable, and lowered her face.
I just want to leave this place, she thought. I can’t do anything even if I stay here. Will I merely be imprisoned here as Audrey Burne and become a diplomatic card to be used in the future? Or will I feel the unknown attraction on my skin just like that night we had the party…
“Our family is like this, so it’s kind of hard to relax…but I hope that you’ll watch over Riddhe. I suppose that guy will recover to who he is normally after a while.”
Mineva’s shoulder that was touched shuddered slightly, and she recovered from her thoughts. Cynthia showed an understanding smile of one of the same gender before leaving the terrace. So being attentive to small details is a trait in the family? She watched the back profile of the calm and carefree adult leave as she felt miserable and grateful, muttering inside her heart that it would be great if that were really the case. However, Cynthia’s guess would most likely be wrong, as her view about anomaly in Riddhe’s heart being a one-time change was just a hopeful expectation. He, who was gradually changing, was suffering over it. It was because Mineva was an outsider who need not be responsible for this—or rather, she was the one who bore his emotions that flowed—that she was able to see the change in Riddhe most clearly.
But at this point, Mineva could not tell what kind of emotions Riddhe was experiencing. She sighed and looked up at the blue sky where the clouds were gathered. She heard from the news that there seemed to be a battle in low orbit on the other end of the sky. If that battle triggered the recent commotion, is there a Neo Zeon vessel entering Earth? What’s the situation with the “Garencieres” now? What about the “Nahel Argama”, “Unicorn” and Banagher?
She continued to remain in where she was even as events were progressing at every moment. Mineva closed her mouth as she felt anxious and wanted to shout out. Riddhe’s shouts as he raced on the horse echoed through the echo, and the galloping filled with his anger vented on the ground passed deep into her body and soul.”
The scorching sun continued to light the sky from above as it was so hot it seemed like noises would be made. The sunlight, which should be appropriately called heat rays, shone on a burning hot desert that stretched to a distant horizon.
The temperature was 42 degrees Celsius, and the hot air that blew by combined with the sunlight to rob the dry and hot skin of any moisture it had left. At this point, the sun had risen directly above them, and it was hard to find anything that could be used as a shade. Suberoa Zinnerman continued to peel the skin that was dry because of the sunburn, and looked up at the sand dune right in front of his eyes. The bow of the ship glittered under the sunlight’s reflection, and one could see the “Garencieres” buried under the dune.
“Sure looks like it was buried deep. We’ll be able to hide from the eyes of the surveillance satellites, so I suppose you can say that it’s good in some way…”
Flaste Schole said this as he reached his hand out to the exterior of the ship, “HOT!” and immediately pulled back his hand. It had been 3 days since they went off their estimated course and landed in Western Sahara of Africa. The result of trying to make the ship land on its belly was that the “Garencieres” ended up sliding in the desert by several kilometers and was dived into the sand dunes. There were two sandstorms after this, and it was buried under the sand. The bow and a part of the broadside lying horizontally were the only parts exposed, while the rear hatch of the aft was buried under several tons of sand. There were 3 main thrusters, and one of them had its nozzle exposed from the dune, but it looked like a mere rock amongst the rocks scattered in the desert. It was very likely that nobody would notice a cargo spaceship buried in the desert unless they analyzed the satellite visuals intently.
Like the rockets that were launched into space, the “Garencieres” landed in a vertical manner under gravity. Once it flipped onto the floor, it was no different from a tortoise with its legs facing up, and had no chance of changing its position on its own, let alone leave the land and fly. Basically, there was no way to move away other than to move this large amount of sand that was piled up, and they only managed to dig out the airlocks through manual labor. It was really impossible to drag out the cargo hangar at the aft of the ship if they lacked the assistance of a large machine. The rear hatch at the belly of this triangular ship was already more than 20m long, and at this point, the sand could only end up piled on it in a slope.
Besides, we’re surrounded in all corners. Zinnerman again understood the seriousness of the situation itself as he put the brim of the captain’s hat to eye level. Flaste looked over at the exterior of the broadside that was hot enough to cook an egg as he grumbled, “It’ll be great if the starboard can face up.”
“In that case, we’ll be able to use the unloading hatch on the side. We can’t do anything now that the hatch at the back is buried in sand. A mobile suit can get out if we shoot a beam from inside…”
“But the “Garencieres” will really meet its end. Let’s just treat it as a final resort.”
Zinnerman lifted his head as he drank the water inside the bottle, unwilling to talk about this topic again. The desert was not a suitable place for discussions, and the sweat that flowed out started to evaporate afterwards. The dust-like fine sand would enter all corners as long as there were openings. It would cause the machines to malfunction and wear people out physically and mentally—Flaste was extremely familiar with the terror and troubles it would bring as he once had to survive in Africa during the One Year War. As all the crew was hiding inside the tilted ship in this bright sunny day, Flaste exposed himself to this scorching weather, and he was definitely recalling his memories that time. There’s no time to hesitate now. We have to decide if we should go with our last resort.
He could only see sand, sand and more sand around him. The Sahara Desert that occupied 40 percent of the African continent was 13 million square kilometers in total area, and the largest desert in the world. The average temperature here was above 30 degrees Celsius, and the annual rainfall was less than 200mm. if anyone were to take off their clothes because of the heat, they would be burned red immediately and incur contagious skin diseases. In late April, temperatures could rise to above 40 degrees Celsius, and this place would become an actual burning hell. However, this was a result of the abnormal weather conditions causing global warming to be accelerated after colonies were sent crashing to Earth, prompting the desertification of Earth. Despite all these, one thing that never changed since the old ages was that temperatures would drop drastically after sunset, and at night, there would be icy cold winds that could freeze people to death.
The cruelest thing about this was that this wide open place encouraged people to think that they could walk through a desert if they wanted to. A lot of desert victims were bothered by such mirages as they ended up moving around their point of accident, and finally ended up as dried up corpses in the wilderness. The dunes would move according to the winds, and the desert that would change the landscape as well was an overly cruel world where humans had to survive with their own power. While there was the advantage of not being spotted if they remained here, the chances of them being spotted by their allies would be marginally slim.
Thus, the desert became a hidden nest for Zeon remnants on Earth, and a few guerilla organizations set up base here to this day, but nobody knew how long it would take before they discovered the “Garencieres”. They did report beforehand when they passed through the atmosphere, but their estimated course was the Atlantic. It would probably be a few days later before they realized that the “Garencieres” went off course and landed in the desert several thousand kilometers away from the estimated point.
The forced landing caused the wireless satellite device to be faulty. The only thing left was the wireless communicator of the mobile suits in the ship, but the range couldn't exceed the horizon. The emergency distress call sender machine was still alright, but it was not practical to try it as they could not guess which side would detect the signal first, the enemies or the allies.
Since this ship had the key to opening the “Laplace Box”, the Federation army would logically search around the area with all its efforts. In contrast, the Zeon remnants who hardly had enough resources probably would not be able to afford a large search party. “It’s almost impossible to repair the wireless satellite device if we don’t swap the entire thing.” Flaste said as he gave a look firmly believing that there was no time to hesitate.
“It’s a good thing that we have ample water and food, but we can’t just stay here all the time. We’ll be detected by the enemy if we don’t contact our side. Tomura just said that he heard the sound of a plane flying above us.”
Flaste looked up at the thing layer of clouds floating in the air, and took a gulp of water. Once they finished their search in the Atlantic Ocean, quite a few surveillance satellites would turn to look at the desert. Zinnerman blew out air from his nose as he answered,
“Looking at the map, we’ll see an oasis if we move 60km to the east. There’s a town called Atal over there, and we should be able to contact with someone over there. We’ll reach there quickly if we ride on a mobile suit.”
“That’s true…”
“Kwani’s unit still needs repairs, but Ivan’s “Geara Zulu” can be used. Even if we have to blow the ship to scraps—”
“You forgot one other machine.”
Zinnerman spoke up to interrupt. Eh? Flaste blinked his eyes and immediately gave a recalling look, only to give a wry look as he answered, “We can’t possibly depend on the “Unicorn” here.”
“I let the maintenance crew inspect through, and they said that they can’t remove the pilot’s biometric authentication. The pilot’s like that as well…”
Flaste pointed his chin at the entry hatch that was approximately 50m away. One could see Banagher Links covered with a sunshade cloth behind the dune piled up at the door, curled up there. Banagher did not detect the stares from Flaste and company as his gloomy-looking face kept staring at the sandy ground of nothingness. It was really hard to determine that he was a living person if nobody said that he was alive, and he was the same as when he was dragged out of the “Unicorn Gundam” cockpit, not seeing anything in his eyes—
He looked like he was fatigued, a common symptom amongst recruits, but the medical officer said that it was not the case after inspection. His mind was overly fatigued, but his body was completely healthy, and he had no problems with his meals and other usual living conditions. However, he had no sense of will to live on by himself, and he would not ingest food if it was not prepared. If he was left alone, he would just sit around blankly for the entire day. It would be more appropriate to describe his symptoms as being very feeble instead of forcing himself not to live, and it was rather similar to those old-aged people that would give up easily. He made himself devoid of all sorts of concerns to seal his heart and soul, and he did not know that he was in a decline. This would be considered a subconscious self-neglect.
There were no effects no matter what they did, whether they tried to threaten him or please him; he would not resist, but he would not show any form of will on his own. He disappeared before they knew it, and would just spend the day spacing out. It had been more than 2 weeks since he was involved in the “Industrial 7” incident, and perhaps the stress that was built up within him during this period had finally reached its breaking point. However, the crew could only feel extremely irked that this brat, who was not even a prisoner, was just wandering around lifelessly even as they were forced to make a decision of life and death. Flaste looked like he felt the same as well as he added with a vexing line, “Such a bother.”
“Even if the “Laplace Program” shows a new coordinate, we can’t make the next move if the “Unicorn” can’t move. We can tie the brat in and let the other mobile suits move it, but the coordinates are a troublesome thing here.”
Flaste took out the paper with the new coordinates from his clutches as he continued to grumble, seemingly feeling that there was no point to look at it any further. Zinnerman did not raise any objections here. A seal of the “Laplace Program” was undone after the activation of the NT-D the last time, but the coordinates given this time felt like a joke. It was a place that nobody with a weak resolve could enter just like the last time, and in this sense, the hurdle here would not be something the relics of “Laplace” could match. Flaste folded the printed paper into a paper airplane, pinched it with his fingertips, “What’s that and what’s that, really?” and threw it away.
“We keep opening, and we see a new box inside it…are we being fooled by Cardeas Vist here?”
Despite only saying this as a joke, his eyes were filled with intense anger. Either way, there’s no way Gilboa and the other men who died could rest in peace if they did not find out the truth. Do we wait for aid that might not come here, or do we wreck the ship and find aid— Zinnerman felt that there was only one option here in his heart as he looked at the direction the paper plane Flaste threw floated to. The plane that did not ride on the wind lost speed after flying for less than 10m, and fell onto the burning hot sand.
The fluttering sound of the paper amidst the sound of the wind moved the eardrums. Banagher Links lifted his head slightly as he looked over at where the sound came from.
It was a paper plane, half buried by the reddish brown sand. The plane got blown by the wind as its wings rustled, and gradually moved out of sight. Banagher had recently seen something similar, the paper plane Tikva once threw in the dusty town in “Palau”… no, it looked more like a glider. As he carelessly thought about that, a sharp shock passed through Banagher’s body, and he exerted more strength into his arms that were holding his legs in.
You killed him. You killed Gilboa, Tikva’s father. He had no intention of attacking, and you simply shot him. Tikva’s pitiful for not having a father now. You and him have no fathers. You killed him, and you killed a lot a people—these words passed through his mind in the form of this shock, You’re the seed of disaster, overlapping with the words Alberto said, and the body that was curled up in this scorching hot weather cooled off. The weather was so hot, and yet his body felt cold inside. His stomach felt tense, as if someone threw a lead block inside. What am I doing? Nobody needs me, even I don’t need myself, so why must I stay curled up here?
The sunshade cloth was draped over his head, and he turned his eyes to the endless desert, but the blue sky that covered the faded land looked dark, perhaps because the sunlight was too bright, distorting his sight. Why is it that a light source from one point can light everything? Banagher, who grew up in colonies, looked up at the inexplicable sun, and then looked at the land of sand right on this unknown planet. We can just run through this desert,Banagher thought. The sunlight can burn the skin, blood my head, dry up all the fluids in my body, and I’ll just become dust. Even the lead in my stomach and this cursed family blood of mine will be burnt to nothing. If I can do that, the “Unicorn” will never move again, the “Gundam” won’t awaken again; I won’t have to kill others, I won’t be killed, and the “Laplace Box” will be sealed forever—
And then what? The abnormally cold voice interrupted to end the delusions. The impulse that rose in Banagher’s body quickly wilted as fatigue struck his mind. He found it difficult to think, curled back his body without doing anything and became a stone block like before. This place is really the bottom of a gravity well, Banagher admitted. His body and mind were tied to the bottom, so heavy that they were unable to move at all. Space felt so distant, and his soul was the only thing melting from his crouched body that was like dust. This is a one and only cog that can make decisions on its own. Don’t lose it—Mr Daguza did say it. I don’t want to lose it, I lost it unwillingly, but I really can’t hang on now. If I try to put it on, my body will break apart. I just want to sit here without thinking and without asking for anything. I’ll keep sitting until my heart melts completely…
A shadow crept up to him, and his sights became dark. The ends of the boots that were dirtied by sand appeared in a corner of Banagher’s eyes, and he moved his blank eyeballs.
Zinnerman was standing there. His hulking figure was standing there angrily “Stand up.” as he growled with a deep voice. Banagher immediately lost interest in the person who arrived, and immediately lowered his sight.
“There’s a town 60km away. I’m going to walk there and get help, and you’re coming with me.”
Are you kidding me? a slight electrical flow passed through Banagher’s mind as he lifted his eyes again. He saw the bearded face that was not smiling, and lazily looked down again. At this moment, Zinnerman’s hand grabbed him by the torso, and the body, which had its center of gravity at the back, was immediately dragged off the floor.
“How long are you going to mope around here!?” The angry words roared into Banagher’s ears as the sand fell from his limp swaying body. His feet would not listen as his body was supported by hand grabbing him by the chest. However, Zinnerman’s hand that was holding this weight showed no signs of shaking at all.
“We’ll leave after sunset. Get into the ship immediately. We need to prepare a lot of things if we want to pass through the desert.”
Banagher was suddenly pushed down as he landed on his backside. The feeling of the unexpectedly hard sand rocked his mind, why? and he wanted to say this, but the voice was stuck in his throat as he was unable to speak up. “Ah?” he avoided Zinnerman’s intimidating stare as he squeezed out a hoarse voice, “Why look for me?”
“Because you look like you’re the most idle.”
“That’s too reckless. How are we to walk across the desert?”
“I once served in Africa during the wars, so I more or less know about the desert. It can work.”
“Hey, get up.” Zinnerman said that as he grabbed Banagher by the chest. Banagher felt the sharp pain from the cramped muscles and wanted to cry out as he only cared about looking back, saying, “Please stop…!”
“Let me alone. I had enough. I don’t want to be involved with anyone else. I don’t want to be made use of.”
“Fat hope. Fulfill your duty as a pilot.”
“Duty? I did my duty. I rode on the mobile suit and sank a Neo Zeon terrorist. Is that not enough? How many more much I kill?”
Only this time did Banagher look right at Zinnerman in the eyes and spoke directly to him. What duty and responsibility? It ended up like this after I listened to those words. As he thought about how he would not be fooled again and intended to stand on his feet, a blunt sound rang in his mind as his world exploded.
The body that was punched aside landed hard onto the floor, and the burning hot taste of sand spread in his mouth. The face that was buried in the sand started to ache, and Banagher’s body was trembling as he heard Zinnerman say, “You can deny us all you want.”
“But don’t you dare think of yourself as a victim and throw a tantrum at me. I can still recognize it if the one that shot down Gilboa is a pilot, but not a brat who doesn’t have any resolve.”
The words became a needle that was thrown, and the hands that were resting on the sand were trembling, but it was unable to remove the feeling of being punched. The lead in Banagher’s stomach was burning, and he forcefully spat the sand that became dirt in his mind “I didn’t do this on my own will…” he muttered as he wiped away the blood on the corner of his mouth.
“Someone else forced me to ride on a mobile suit, and things ended up like this before I even knew what happened. If you’re not going to forgive me, just kill me. Don’t beat around the bush and talk about something like duty; can’t you just harden your heart and kill me…!?”
Zinnerman’s hard fist was still clenched as he answered with his trembling eyelids. See, this man talks big, but he’s no different from those guys who want the “Box”. Banagher said, “You don’t dare to do so anyway.” Banagher said with his busted lips that were curled up.
“If I die, the “Unicorn” won’t move. If you can’t extract the data of the “Box”, you’ll just let this treasure rot. No matter how you hate me, it’s impossible for you to kill—”
The second impact struck his face, and his body that was sent flying away hit the dune behind. He felt a numbing feeling in his skullcap, “those big shots may think that way, but we’re different”, Zinnerman growled, and Banagher stared at his bearded face.
“It doesn’t matter what happens to the “Box”. My ship doesn’t have the room to feed someone like you who has no will to live.”
The burly figure became a shadow as it moved towards Banagher, blocking his sights. The eyes of a killer were glittering somehow deep within, just like the first time, and Banagher clenched his hands together with the sand.
Banagher stared at the two black eyeballs that were not showing any light, and exerted strength to stiffen his trembling knees. He tried his best to let his trembling body stand up, and glared at Zinnerman with all his strength. Do it if you can. I’ll spit my blood on you once I’m beaten down. As he was driven by this unknown temper, his swaying body was about to straighten, and Zinnerman showed some teeth on his ominous looking face.
Before he could understand that it was a smile, he was gently nudged back and landed on his backside. “What kind of expression is that?” Zinnerman gave a wry look, and this was an unexpected response to Banagher as he looked back.
“Someone who can give that kind of expression will not collapse that easily. Hurry up and get ready. The desert won’t listen to any excuses humans make.”
Zinnerman finished and walked away. Are you serious? Banagher wanted to open his mouth and ask, but was unable to let out a sound as his wildly pounding heart spread the feeling of this fear that came a moment later. His body that was unneeded by anyone and self-neglected continued to give the sound of life stubbornly— “Damn it!” Banagher groaned as he kicked the sand at his feet. The blood that rushed up his body caused him to recall the heat, and the large amount of sweat that suddenly started to flow out evaporated before they dripped.
The sun that was radiating the bright white light was dyed red, half-hidden behind the dunes, and the surrounding temperature stared to feel. This was the so-called radiation cooling effect at work. As there was almost no moisture in the air, the temperature could not remain certain, and there were temperature differences of around 30 degrees Celsius between both day and night. It was hard to imagine from the scorching heat in the day, but it was not uncommon to freeze to death in the desert.
The scorching heat and harsh coldness repeated itself through day and night, and this climate reminded Banagher of the moon. It would be more appropriate to assume this as a barometric pressure suited for survival, a place without the blessing of the atmosphere. Banagher zipped up his jumper and put the cloth acting as a hood around his neck, and looked around at the endless number of sand dunes that appeared around him. He heard the sound of wind and sand blowing by, and there was nothing moving. As he waited for the stars to blink, the surroundings would probably be so silent that one would believe that this was the moon.
Is he really going to cross such a place? Banagher knelt down at where he was, and checked whether the gaiters were secured at the bottom of his jeans as he observed the group of people gathered at the airlock. The area was surrounded by dusk, and light shone from the airlock showing the backs of Flaste and the other crew members. He could see their anxious expressions, and Zinnerman was right in the middle of that group, still intending to wear the old leather jacket and the captain hat. “This map is made by the guerillas, and we can rely on them.” His voice sounded extremely loud in the wind.
“We’ll try to move quickly at night only. As long as there’s moonlight, we’ll be able to see 5, 600m around us. It’s bad that we don’t have a GPS for desert use, but we’ll be able to see the stars clearly, and if we use a compass as well, we’ll find a way.”
The Captain pretended to sound relaxed as he laid out the map, while Flaste and the rest gave obviously suspicious looks. He’s not kidding now, is he? Banagher too gave a suspicious look as he managed to prevent himself from talking. He obeyed Zinnerman’s words and started to check on the luggage in his backpack. It included rations, sleeping bags, flashlights, warm clothing, anti UV lip cream, scarves, sunshade clothes, a first aid kit with pesticide, and most importantly, water—and this was heavy. There was four days worth of water, 5 liters a day, and the backpack weight almost 30kg. If they wanted to cross the desert, this weight itself would be an indicator of life…
“The distance to Atal is approximately 63km. if we move quickly by night, we’ll reach there in the morning 4 days later as long as nothing goes wrong. Once we contact our allies there, I estimate that we’ll be able to send a rescue squad here on the fifth morning. I suppose the guerilla forces of Adrar and Tirith Zemul will take action.”
“I don’t think this is really a good idea…”
Flaste spoke up in place of the anxious crew. Everyone present felt that it was better to let a mobile suit punch through the belly of the shape than to make such a risk, but Zinnerman superficially answered everyone’s doubts as he put on his backpack. “Take command while I’m not around.” He told Flaste and left the crew.
“If there’s still no news after 5 days, blow up the ship however you want. Bring the mobile suits out to contact our allies…let’s move out, brat.”
Flaste and the rest of the crew were attracted by Zinnerman’s stare as they looked over at Banagher. Without anyone saying anything, the biggest reason why they were against having Zinnerman cross the desert was because of the person accompanying him. Banagher endured the suspicious stars as he carried the backpack, thinking, Who cares about you guys. If you have any objections, go talk to your Captain. The weight that pressed down heavily on his back caused him to miss his footing, and he frantically regained his balance as he pretended to look calm while walking over to Zinnerman.
“I’m going then. Help us pray that there won’t be any sandstorms.”
Zinnerman waved goodbye at everyone as he started to trek off. Flaste watched his Captain leave with a reluctant look, and then shot a meaningful look at Banagher. You better prepare yourself there—Banagher felt a chill from this cold stare, but he immediately focused on looking to the front at this desert trip the two of them would embark on. He turned his back on the setting sun that was like a ripened fruit and climbed up the gradually sloping surface to the other dune. Let’s go then. As he harbored this thought, his foot got stuck in the sand, and he ended up falling forward so soon after he embarked on this trip.
On the same day, April 21st, it was US Central Standard time, 1pm.
Augusta was raining, and the rain that was colder than rain in spring was scattering down from the dark clouds above, causing the idling walkway to be dyed a light grey color. Alberto Vist spent his time waiting as he leaned his back against the medium-sized airport control tower, looking up at the clouds that were hovering at a low place as he heard the sound of raindrops dropping on the umbrella. Soon after, a black spot appeared in the sky, and the roaring of a jet engine could be heard mixed amidst the rain. At that moment, the silhouette of a shuttle was gradually looming.
The belly of the shuttle, which was filled with anti-heat materials, lowered its undercarriage and landed on the runway lit with beacon lights. The friction on the wheels caused the rainwater to steam off, and the machine gradually slowed down as the thrust reverser boomed loudly. There were no signs of any other machines in this Augusta Research facility that also functioned as a mobile suit experimental place. Alberto waited for the taxiing shuttle to reach its apron as he got on the electric car his subordinate was driving on. The passenger step moved along at the same time as it started to move to the apron.
This shuttle that reached Augusta was a miniature one that moved to and fro from Earth, one belonging to Anaheim Electronics, and there was an “AE” logo printed on the side of the machine. It was a company shuttle used by those in the corporate-class in emergency situations, but not a lot of people would ride a private shuttle to Earth and to the Moon. The step car brought the ladder to the airlock of the shuttle, and Alberto got off the electric car, waiting patiently on this runway that was drenched in rainwater. After that, the airflow let out what sounded like a deep sigh as it opened, and a cabin crewman who got of the shuttle beforehand was holding the umbrella at the door.
A short woman dressed in a wine red suit walked down the steps. The 1G gravity caused her to tumble, but she did not grab onto the crewman’s hand as she corrected her posture. She looked down the wide runway from the top of the steps, and upon noticing Alberto’s stare immediately, narrowed her eyes.
The woman was already over the age of 50, but she showed no hesitation over how to live like a woman. This woman was the wife of Anaheim Electronics’ chairman, and also, the stand-in leader of the Vist Foundation. Alberto succumbed under the usual stare of Martha Vist Carbine and gulped. Martha let her loose lips remain shut, looked up at the grey sky, received an umbrella from the crewman, and started to walk down the stairs.
“The rain’s annoying.”
Despite the fact that engines of the shuttle were still running, he could tell that she said that her lips said those words from their shape. Alberto bowed respectfully as he got ready to welcome the Empress of the Moon.
They were in Augusta, located in Northern America, Georgia, near the Clarks Hill Lake on the border between South Carolina and Georgia. The local Newtype research facility called the Augusta Newtype Research Institute was located beside the lake, a vast place that used to be a mobile suit experimental center.
However, the term Newtype Research Institute was taken down, and it had been a long time since the military facilities here were taken down. The land was registered under the Federation air force, but the airport in the facility was never used as an air base. On first glance, the similarly shaped empty buildings were all abandoned here. Alberto walked on his feet that ushered Martha beforehand towards the largest building called the A block. There were 6 levels in this building that was 50m in length all around, and it looked as gloomy as an abandoned hospital under the cloudy sky, awaiting Alberto and Martha who came out from the electric car.
“Just a few more amendments to the process before unit 2’s testing under gravity conditions is complete. We used the combat data from unit 1 as feedback, so there’s a mass improvement in space mobility as compared to the beginning.”
The lobby felt very cold without the air-conditioning. Alberto followed Martha, who did not look behind as she walked, and reported the situation during the past two days.
“Captain Macias of the Senate Council came to inspect yesterday. We merely let the test pilot carry out some demonstrations, but he seemed to be satisfied. He indicated that the UC plan must not be left out of this space forces realignment plan…”
At this point, Alberto suddenly went quiet as he stopped in his tracks, as he sensed someone moving at the corner leading to the elevator hall.
At a corner of the passage that was somewhat dim because of energy conservation, there was a black shadow popping out from a corner. That shadow moved lightly, forming the shape of a human, and became a shadow of a 4, 5 year old child as it stared right back from the corner. Those familiar eyes looked like they were about to be etched in Alberto’s eyes, and he could not help but look away. Haven’t you had enough already? Alberto thought as he widened his tense eyes with fear. The child who looked eerily similar to Banagher Links suddenly disappeared, and the shadow of the foliage plant placed at the corner was dragged along the floor.
He exhaled hard and moved his feet that stopped. Martha, who stopped as well, gave him a scrutinizing look. Alberto then coughed to try and hide things through and continued his report without looking at her,
“The Settlement Issues Council seemed to be on the move as well, but the High Staff Committee do support the Foundation. As the stand-in leader estimated, once we can complete the deal using unit 2—”
“You’re still concerned about that?”
Martha again stepped forward as she spoke up to interrupt Alberto. He did not understand what she meant as she looked at the figure in front that never looked back.
“You’re still concerned about that? Alberto?”
The sharp scrutinizing voice rang ago, and a stare that looked like it could see through everything shot over. Alberto felt a shudder on his shoulders as he took this cold stare that overlooked the shoulders “…No.” he answered as he lowered his head. “That’s good.” Martha said as she looked in front.
“It was unexpected of the “Sleeves” to come and take the “Unicorn” away, but it was a wise decision to abandon the machine. You were correct in choosing not to take it back, but to destroy it.”
The white machine fell into the scorching abyss as the traction wire was snapped—he recalled that scene and asked himself whether it was the correct decision. At that time, he merely had the impulse of wanted to get rid of the “Unicorn” from his eyes, and he did not remember making a sane decision. That was because he was scared, and he hated the eyes of the “Unicorn” pilot that were the same as Cardeas—Banagher Links, who was protected by the machine Cardeas put so much effort in making, and who appeared several times in front of him. Those eyes that could overlap his own when he looked into the mirror looked like they would reveal the sins he committed over and over again…
“Don’t think about that again. Biologically, both you and he are blood-related brothers, but we are all humans. We have more important priorities to protect than blood relations, and you, as the heir of the Vist family, completed the responsibility you’re tasked with.”
Martha continued to speak softly, and it was unclear if she actually understood his heart. A responsibility to take down every single relative, including father and brother? in fact, Alberto felt that he was cursed, and he softly answered, “Yes.”
“Besides, it is likely that he’s still alive, so you will probably face him again. You two may be blood relatives, but you must not let someone who’s not on your side to handle the key to the “Box”. You do understand, right?”
She looked back and gave a stare, indicating that he must not fail the next time around. Alberto did not have the confidence to answer her calmly as he hurried his steps to move past Martha. He turned around the corner, walked for another 20m, and arrived at the metal door at the end of the corridor. He then took out the ID card and swiped it at the card reader.
The light indicating that the door was unlocked lit up, and the thick and heavy metal doors opened aside. They stepped through the door, and there was a bright space with air-conditioning inside. There were several sealed windows on the walls of this passage, and several white-clothed workers could be seen standing there, working. The Augusta Research Institute was announced to be closed off, and this was the area that could not be exposed to the public. Martha showed no signs of fear on her face as she advanced forward, and stepped into this highly fortified area that had much of the facility’s security.
It was unknown where the antiseptic smell came from. There were no energy-saving implements within the facility, yet it felt very dark inside, probably because there used to be experiments ignoring human ethics carried out here. It was said that the Newtype Research Institute acted under the name of a military research facility as they carried out surgical and medicinal procedures on war orphans that were helpless, creating a large number of vegetables, and was ordered to be shut down as a result. The old facilities and researchers still remained here however, only because this was an official military institute. Of course, this being a facility for the air force would not be enough reason to give it budget to carry on operating. The difference between the budget the military gave and the expenses paid for operations was provided by Anaheim through multiple 3rd party sectors.
It had been two days since he reached this place, but he really could not bring himself to like this place. He even felt a false hallucination, that someone was watching him, and when looking back, he could hear the footsteps of several children running away. There were also rumors of many ghosts, like a boy wearing a blood-stained surgical gown or the brain juices of a girl spilling out from the skullcap that had its scalp removed. There were some amongst his accompanying subordinates who would even state openly that they heard the laughter of children as well. Those useless hallucinations I saw are definitely due to the messages left inside my mind. Alberto saw the ominous shadows stuck on the wall, and started to feel a chill. He then recognized the white-clothed man in front of him and stopped in his tracks.
“I’m the facility chairman Bentner. Excuse me for being unable to welcome you directly.”
Bentner said this as he reached his hand forward, and he sure did fit the image of a head of a human laboratory. His arched back, bald head and frail body that was covered with a white coat could be said to be the incarnate of a mad scientist, and as ominous as a prison warden in the Middle Ages. “Hello.” Martha answered coldly without changing her expression, and used her hand to raise her hair. Bentner’s outstretched hand had nowhere to go as it returned back, and his face that looked to be around 60 showed the smile of a slave bowing humbly.
“You must be tired after such a long trip. How about—”
“It’s rare for me to come by here, but I do treasure my important time. Can you please tell me the current progress?”
Martha’s style was to look down on those servile to her and tell them to do whatever they could do as they could. Alberto nodded silently at Bentner who gave a doubtful glance. In the past, the Federation army intended to cover everything up in and eliminate all the researchers, thinking that they could shake themselves off their misfortune. However, Bentner, who was somehow able to fight against it and protect his own position, was definitely not just a bookworm. “Excuse me, please come here.” He quickly understood that the chairwoman did not come here for leisure, kept his smile, and walked first, showing his own adaptability.
“I should say that this is really to be expected of a Cyber-Newtype. Her recovery ability is really shocking, and she is basically no different from a healthy person. It is possible for her to pilot a mobile suit in another 3 days.”
Bentner pressed on the nearest elevator button as he explained. Martha merely looked at the level display as she did not bother to answer.
“She’s the perfect pilot for the “Banshee”, and to us, a very rare test subject, so every member here is motivated. But despite the backing from Anaheim, it is hard to acquire specimens after we lost the support of the military. But asking us to continue the research is a little too…”
“What problems does she have?”
Martha spoke up to interrupt and walked in first after the elevator reached. Bentner showed a shocked look as he was taken aback by the other party, and immediately followed her, saying, “The problem is that her she is the designed genetic plan-type.” as he closed the elevator doors.
“If it is a Cyber-Newtype that went through acquired adjustments, it won’t be difficult to adjust her again. With the help of the drugs, we can remove the memories in spurts without reducing their abilities. But someone with a designed genetic plan itself is different. She’s different from those with acquired adjustments, so she doesn’t use drugs that create rejection, and her reaction to psychotropic drugs will be no different from ordinary humans. To make it clearly, she’s not used to having her brain adjusted. If we force her to submit, we might break her sense of identity and make her worthless.”
The elevator reached the highest level, the 6th floor, and it seemed that the wind was blowing outside. Alberto heard the thunderclap from afar and arrived on the pathway where armed guards were on standby. There were metal gates on both sides of this passage, and this place felt more like an asylum for those severely mentally ill instead of a prison.
“So to simply put, it’s a problem with the heart. She has her own soul that’s unwilling to undergo readjustments again, right?”
Martha did not change her expression as she walked in front. She, Alberto was shocked inside by the term she used and stopped in front of the door with the number ‘12’ on it. “Well, stating it like that is…” Bentner spoke halfway through, but Martha looked inside the cell without hesitation, seemingly wanting him to back off.
A bed and a window framed with metal bars could be seen in this square room 5m wide. The silhouette sitting on the bed appeared for a moment as the lightning that struck from afar lit inside, and Alberto, who was looking inside this dark room from behind Martha’s head, gulped as he saw that face that looked much younger than he thought. Did she look that frail before? She felt more muscular at that moment when she immediately used her body to protect me while the assassin attacked the “Nahel Argama”. As Alberto experienced some sort of pain caused by conflicting emotions, “Interesting” he heard Martha state this in a nonchalantly cold manner, and looked at her with a terrified expression.
“I want to talk to her.”
Martha did not look away from the other side of the metal bars as her lips showed a smile. Alberto felt Bentner behind him gulp, and looked back at the “specimen” inside the room.
Marida Cruz did not mind the stares from outside the fence as her puppet-like face did not move, looking outside the window. However, those eyes that were lit by the lightning flash seemed to show some vigor of life as she faced the outside world. On seeing this, Alberto experienced complicated emotions in his heart for a second time.
The dunes that were blown by the winds would change their forms from time to time, revealing the beauty of a woman’s body. The gradual ridges depicted the surface of a plump waist, and an observer would not help but think that it might feel as soft as a human body.
But in fact, these stretches of gradual sand dunes were the obstacles stumbling the feet of travelers. For every step they took, the sand pile would collapse, and the little amount of physical strength would dissipate bit by it. They had not completed even one-third of the journey on the second night of the trip. Banagher gritted his teeth, trying his best to follow Zinnerman who was walking 10m in front of him. The dry air of the night blew aside his sweat, causing his skin to tense up due to the cold. The temperature was around 10 degrees Celsius, and if there were wind, the temperature the body would feel should be blown this.
He had already drank one day’s worth of water, and logically, the bag should have become lighter, but he found it heavier than yesterday because he did not sleep well in the day. Whenever his consciousness was about to fade, a large number of flies would fly from out of nowhere, and the fluttering of the wings would prevent him from sleeping. The sunlight would shine in through his eyelids, unwilling to fade. The rest time would then end just when he was about to enter dreamland, and he would begin his trek again when the sun sets. The fatigue accumulated on the previous day was still on him, and he could not muster his appetite as he continued to walk and drag his lethargic body.
What about Zinnerman? Banagher pursued the figure that disappeared behind the ridge and finally stepped on the top. After seeing the scenery laid out in front of him, he was speechless.
After walking down the slope, he would have to go uphill again, and there was another dune on the other side of the dune. There was a ridge of dunes that littered the landscape, and the large ones could reach 100m tall, while the wide ones could reach several kilometers. The gradation presented by nature was so intricate it was shocking. There did not seem to be any room for humans senses to be involved with, and the overly intricate scene caused him to feel like vomiting. Zinnerman left behind footprints as he walked down the slope, looking like a speck of dust destroying these layers.
Is this nature? Was humanity born from this merciless beauty? Did they carve out thousands of years of history like this? Banagher’s mind and soul that grew up in the large cylinders called colonies were shocked, and he remained rooted to the ground.
The dunes lit under the moonlight did not have any color, and the white gradients of the ridge drew a clear divide with the pitch darkness of night as the single toned world of desolation stretched down the endless horizon. This is impossible. Anyone who wants to cross this place must be out of their mind. Banagher yelled in his heart as his unwittingly retreated, and as he stepped backwards, the sand at his feet immediately collapsed, and his body was dragged down by the sand dune below. He landed on his backside, and tumbled back due to the weight of the haversack on his back, and rolled down the dune without being able to adjust himself.
His sights started to spin wildly, and the powder-shaped sand entered his nose and eyes. He let his shoulders and stomach hit the sand as he rolled down the slope like a broken puppet, before his body finally managed to stop rolling. He wanted to spit out the sand in his mouth, but he could not secrete any saliva, and he had no strength to sprout his body that was filled with sand as he could only hear the sound of footsteps approaching as they stepped on the sand. Banagher moved his fingers that laid feebly on the sand and tried to open his eyes, seeing the tip of Zinnerman’s boots in his blurry sights.
He felt his arm being pulled by the other man, and his upper body that was sprawled on the floor was dragged up completely. His legs moved on their own, trying to stand up straight, but was unable to do so even with this momentum. He bent his knees that could not exert strength, and collapsed under the weight of the haversack again before sprawling on the floor. Zinnerman too tumbled on the sandy ground and gave an exasperated look as he stared at this ridiculous scene, muttering, “You idiot, you didn’t drink, did you?”
“Didn’t I tell you to drink regularly even if you’re not thirsty?”
Banagher’s face was dragged up, and the opening of the bottle was brought right to his lips. The water that was taken in instinctively entered his windpipe, causing him to choke hard. He bent down, used his remaining strength to cough, and his face hit the sandy ground that was thoroughly cold. “Oi, pull yourself through.” Zinnerman said, but Banagher pushed aside his arm, curled up his body that was having difficulty in breathing, Leave me alone.and his dry lips mouthed out the words,
“Just leave me alone…please let me stay here.”
Banagher let out a hoarse voice from his throat that felt like it was stuck. After a short moment of silence, “Don’t say such sorry things.” Zinnerman answered, but his voice felt so distant.
“Even if I walk along with you, I’ll just drag you down. Please move first, I’ll try to find a way…”
“What nonsense are you spouting? What can you do alone when you can’t even read the constellations? You’ll just move around in the same direction and get dried up to death in the wild.”
“That’s fine too…you pulled me out here for this aim, right?”
“Huh?”
“You want to let me dry out to death in the desert…so just kill me…”
Banagher sensed that the bearded face was raising his eyelids, taking a deep sigh through his nose. “Really, I didn’t expect you to have such thoughts when you came along with me.” Zinnerman said this with a wry look as he dusted off the sand on his buttocks and stood up.
“Just like I said, this stretch is the toughest area. It’ll take a week for us to make a detour, so that means we can only move through this stretch. Once we can do so, it’s all flatland there on. It’s just a little longer, hang in there.”
Hang in there. These words entered Banagher’s heart, causing him to feel a burning sense of negativity. Why must I be the one hanging in here? What right do I have? He grabbed the sand and looked back at Zinnerman’s eyes that were looking down at him and moved his throat, “I am…!” that was about to be blocked.
“I rode on a mobile suit, killed people, and now I’m desperately trying to walk in this desert. How much more do you want me to work hard? What exactly do you hope that I do…!? Everyone’s just caring about themselves, forcing others into despair…that’s too irresponsible…”
Do what you feel you have to do, fulfill your responsibility. The words Cardeas and Daguza said echoed in his empty body dampening his sights. Even if I worked hard here, I can’t save anyone. No one will end up being saved, and nobody will save me. I don’t want to do anything, and I know that no matter what I do, everything will all be wasted. It’s just like what my ‘older brother’ said, I’m a seed of disaster bringing misfortune to others.
I’m bothered even when people placed their expectations on me. I have nothing to repay you. I just feel “disjointed” from the world as I lived in a corner of an artificial colony. If there’s a chance to return to such a lifestyle, I really want to return. I want to return to the moments where I didn’t have to kill anyone, not get cursed by my own bloodline, and live my life with the vague gentleness. If only I never rode on the “Unicorn”. If only I never met Audrey—the water droplets that flowed down his face landed on the floor, and he grabbed the sand in his hands tightly as he heard the sound of these water droplets dripping into the dry ground. Zinnerman snorted out air as he patted the captain’s hat that was covered in sand, saying with a spurning tone, “What are you hoping from an outsider unrelated to you?”
“It’s already tough for those who want to live normal lives to take care of you, let alone at this moment of life and death. Even if they’re just saying that they care, you should be grateful that someone’s willing to talk to you.”
To Banagher, these words were unexpected. He felt the lead in his stomach twirling and saw Zinnerman’s face in his sights. At this point, he saw that the two eyes looking down at him were giving off a glint of light that was stronger than the night sky.
“Even if you complain to me like that, your expression isn’t showing any signs of dying off. You still have the strength to fight. It’s because I felt that you can stand on your own that I brought you along. No matter how painful it is, if you’re a man, you should answer back to other people’s expectations, raise your chest and endure until the moment you die.”
Zinnerman carried his haversack again and stepped forward without waiting for a reply. Banagher supported his upper body almost instinctively, “Fight…what do you want me to fight with?” and asked. “Think about it.” the back profile that answered this had already left Banagher halfway out of its mind.
“A man’s life is a battle until death.”
He added these words that came flowing over with the wind hit the ears and went off. Banagher raised his knees forward and brought his upper body forward as he stood on the sandy ground shakily. He stepped forward to the back profile that was leaving him, not know exactly why he had to do this. I’m an idiot. His body that realized this sufficiently stepped on the endless stretch of gradients.
He walked on the ground that would collapse whenever he stepped, climbed uphill step by step, went down again, and would then move along a towering ridge to the next dune. He did not want to lose to that back profile, and he wanted to catch up to the man; Banagher’s thoughts became his pillar of support as he continued to chase silently. The moonlight was covered by the dune behind him, and the starry light caused the dunes hidden in the darkness to appear. Nothing was moving except for the two shadows that were some distance away from each other, moving forward as they left small trails on the sand dunes. This was a world where nothing could be heard other than the sound of wind and their own breathing. It seemed that all of humanity had died off as both of them were the only ones left in the world, absolute silence surrounding them…
Zinnerman did not look back as he continued on in regular steps. Banagher let his body that was carrying the bag lean forward as he moved his own feet silently. What’s with that guy? He could not see any clear goal from him like Cardeas, and he was not a by-the-book soldier like Daguza. Zinnerman was different from Frontal in that he did give off a human-like vibe, but there was some attraction from his back that caused Banagher to be dragged along for some reason. Even without looking back, he could grasp Banagher’s current situation. If Banagher fell, he would return to pick him up. While he gave a mysterious sense of relief, there was some obstinate feeling from him, and he did not allow others to enter his own heart. in the end, that figure that he could not get close to remained right in front of him, even though he would not leave—
“I met the Captain at the Federation’s detention barrack. At that time, I was part of the Youth Service Squad, a group of brats that would listen to the orders from anyone else in the base. Same goes for Gilboa. We’re all stripped naked and had our butts inspected, and we can be said to be a band of brothers on the same boat of disaster.”
The words Banagher heard from Flaste before he left echoed in his mind, and he looked at the sand that landed at his feet. During the One Year War, Zinnerman and company took part in an attack on Earth, and fought until the bitter end in Africa before being captured by the Federation. They then awaited the end of the war in the detention cells, not knowing how the war in space ended, and nobody told them what happened to their hometown.
“To the Federation, we’re just demons who sent a colony crashing to Earth. The treatment we had at the detention barracks was way different from what was in the agreement, but it didn’t matter. Even if we were brats back then, we’re all soldiers. As long as we ate the food the army gave us, we had to bear the name of the country no matter where we went. What I could not forgive was that the Federation pointed their guns at our relatives left in our hometown.”
“After the war ended, the Principality of Zeon was forced to disband and restart as a republic. However, a change in name alone can’t possibly erase all hatred that was culminated since the past. To the occupying army on the republic, Zeon was Zeon. They could not end all grudges just because the war ended, because too many people died in it. While the big-shots were negotiating for peace, the occupying forces had been building up their unhappiness. And there was an increase in voices by the day, like whether they could forgive the Zeon monsters, like whether they should raze the Zeon colonies to the ground like how we suffered, until it reached a point where it was not surprising to have any riots. Kill off all these inhumane Zeons, go to Zeon if you want to snatch women. Those people grew up hearing these words during the war, and some of their brothers died in Zeon’s hands. Sacrifices were needed to vent their frustrations. They needed something to vent their anger and hatred and slice it up for the public to see…the place they chose was the town the Captain’s home was.”
The name of the town that was chosen was called Globe. That night, there was a curfew enforced on it, and all the residents were forbidden from moving out. As everyone held their breaths and hid inside, the occupying force encircled the place and charged into the town under the preface of suppressing riots. The soldiers who went out were about to return back, so there were old people, women and children left inside the town.
The soldiers that were manipulated by the higher-ups in a subtle manner were beasts hungry for blood. During the night, they opened every single household door and did whatever they wanted. To them, it did not matter whether it was an adult or a child. The men were tortured to death, the private parts of the women were violated, and the children that were shrieking and crying were shot down, unable to cry. Armed soldiers surrounded the town, and nobody could reach their hand for support. The police and the media could only remain silent at this ‘venting of frustration’ both the occupying army and the Republic’s government allowed.
There was no consensus on Globe being the sacrifice in the first place, but the fact remained that when the colony was thrown down to Earth, the footage of when Zeon celebrating and applauding their victory was spread throughout the world, and the residents of Globe were caught on television. The sight of the residents of Zeon smiling as they trampled on billions of corpses, immersed in a celebratory atmosphere—probably caused the Federation people watching this live telecast to gather their hatred and anger on the town of Globe that just happened to be on television. Either way, there was none of the terms ‘logic’ and ‘rationality’ in the soldiers’ minds when they ravaged the entire town, and their savage behavior after this violence easily broke down the lives of the people that built this town. They were mocked, trampled, and robbed of all their pride. More than thousands of people suffered the most cruel deaths in the world.
Those who died early were fortunate. If there were children watching their mothers being raped, the reverse could have happened in the future. No one could remain sane after such a cruel night. The festival of madness lasted until morning, leaving only counting corpses. Burnt scenes floated out from the houses that caught fire, and the stench of corpses and pee were mixed inside, remaining inside the colony for countless days. Just like how the Zeon army introduced poison gas into a colony, the town became a complete wasteland. No, it was not even a wasteland, but a used ‘public toilet’ for the Federation army to vent their frustrations, an exhibition of the cruelty humanity could show.
The Federation explained to the public that the tragedy of Globe happened because the residents rioted as the military was oppressing the resistance, and they had to suppress them with military force. The Republic government and the media accepted this saying and both the occupying army and the republic government had a common understanding as they accepted this, that they should permit such behavior if that kind of sacrifice could allow them to calm down. Either way, the truth was as clear as daylight even without explaining. Zinnerman and company returned back to Zeon after an exchange of prisoners, and immediately understood what happened after seeing his own hometown ravaged to the ground. They hated the Federation, hated the Republic government that became a mere puppet, and more than anything, hated themselves for being unable to protect their families.
They cursed themselves for being weak, and whenever they thought about the suffering they suffered before their deaths, their frustrations would cause them to blame themselves, until they went mad for days. To these people who lost their hometown in all sorts of ways, the only choice left for them was to fight on. “Axis”, in the distant asteroid belt, took in the recently born Mineva Zabi, and this place became the hiding place for Zinnerman and company for years. After “Axis” returned to the Earth celestial sphere, they called themselves Neo Zeon and started from there, investing themselves in the two Neo Zeon Wars. There was no such thing as ceasefire, and they continued to start wars all to accept that they were still alive.
“Even till now, I wonder what will happen to me if the opposite was true. In a war, anyone will go insane. It’s not rare to see photos of people smiling and showing V-handsigns even after seeing the corpses of enemy soldiers piled up one after another…but the people from the Federation are humans, and we’re humans. Some things can’t be forgiven no matter what people say. If anyone heard that the tragedy of Globe was filmed and still circulated in the black market, I’ll want to send another colony down.”
“Do you understand? Our wives and kids became toys covered with blood, and that image is filmed up and still circulated around somewhere in the world. Some sickos even feel excited by seeing that. We couldn’t save them even if we heard the screams from that time. It’s impossible for time to be reversed. Can you imagine that kind of regret, that bitterness that’s much worse than us being chopped up to pieces?”
This was not a question that could be answered immediately. Banagher merely lowered his head and avoided Flaste’s bloodshot eyes.
“We, who were given a new lease of life to act as bodyguards for the princess, spent our efforts finding the scumbag dealer who circulated the video. We discovered Marida when we were checking on the routes those bloody perverts used. As for Marida…well, I suppose I shouldn’t mention. Anyway, we didn’t do this out of fun.”
“Zeon did launch a colony down to Earth, and it is understandable that there is ample reasons for us to die. But the hatred we put on ourselves is different from a conflict between countries. It’s not about reviving Zeon and redeeming ourselves. We don’t care about what happens to the “Box”; we only have two options, whether to curse the world or to keep fighting.”
Therefore, don’t think that you definitely won’t be killed off. Flaste ended off, grabbed Banagher by the chest, and chided him sternly,
“I don’t know your background, but I do know that you’re the enemy pilot who killed Gilboa. Listen, I’ll make you pay if you dare pull the Captain down. if you’re a pilot, build your own way to live like a pilot.”
A pilot is a fighting unit that has no grudges whether it is killed or killed others. Banagher compared these words to what Marida said before as he started to think. He was viewed as a pilot, and even if it was an outcome prompted out of coincidence, he had fulfilled the purpose of a pilot. Even if he was called a brat, no one was willing to play around with him. He thought, I’m seen as being part of the situation, and I’m actually affecting the situation.
It did not happen like this because he hoped for it. It was the same for Zinnerman or Flaste or the rest. Everyone was caught in an unreasonable situation. Even if they wanted to live in any way they wanted, this world was too cruel, and humans were too helpless. Currently, he was on the border of life and death. He did not know how much he could continue walking. The body of flesh that was removed from its civilized looking skin was so fragile. Perhaps it was a mistake to think that humans were born with such a cruel nature, and an absolutely unreasonable possibility.
Even so, humans continued to live on, fought against this harsh nature, drank water, and devoured other forms of life. Zinnerman harbored such pain that could not be compensated even in death, but he still lived on. Banagher kept saying that he did not want to do anything, but he was still walking. He could stop in his tracks, but an unknown impulse he had no idea of was pushing him as he continued to walk forward without caring.
That was because Banagher instinctively knew that if he stopped in his tracks, he would be losing to this unreasonable situation. The moment he stopped and started cursing the world, his world would be shut off. Humanity used their fragile bodies to explore nature, survive and finally fly into space. This impulse that ignores everything pushes all unreasonable parts of the world, whether they were diseases, famines, discriminations', war…all the lives living on this world would have to fight against such unreasonable things, and the history of wars were past of humanity’s history.
That was why they had to progress, to move forward, to keep walking straight until they could accept this, to this world that would liberate them from all unreasonable things. Even if they know that such a world did not exist, they had to continue on mindlessly, even if they had to destroy this nature around them. They had to keep shouting as part of their instincts, that they would not lose as long as they were walking forward.
And then, they had to make an endless dream. They could not allow themselves to stop, they had to desire, rush to the target they wished to destroy and find the hope that had never wilting. They had to harness the power of possibilities residing inside their bodies and believe that tomorrow would be better. A glass of water, a little compassion from everyone else, I feel like I can continue on a little longer just by knowing the suffering everyone had. As he harbored such simple and gentle thoughts…
However, living bodies were still bodies of flesh. Even if he was unwilling, the flesh had its own limits. A strong sleepy feeling suddenly surged up in Banagher, and his feet were starting to feel heavy. The shadows of night gathered from around, and his visibility quickly darkened. No, don’t sleep, keep going. Even as he said these words in his heart, it was useless as the ground at his feet rose up vertically, and his hands that wanted to support his body slid along the sand. The impact that crashed into the ground became a distant echo, and Banagher could not even feel the impact of the fall as his face was buried in the sand, his consciousness drifting away.
The cracking sounds of flames could be heard, and Banagher felt the heat touching his face as he opened his eyes.
A column of smoke could be seen rising up, seemingly mixing into the faint ink-like starry night. Zinnerman was beside him, sitting on the ground and setting a fire, and the shadows that were casted upon the rock behind them were swaying. Banagher’s eyes caught sight of the marks around the shadows. These pictures looked like cow herds and people holding bows and arrows, and on a closer look, there were countless marks like this craved all over the rock wall. Perhaps these marks were left behind since a long time ago by the people living here when humanity first started to move.
The wall showed people tending to their livestock, men heading to war and women facing each other while sitting on chariots. Does this mean that this place had greenery for people to live, that there were work, wars, families and all sorts of human activities? As he laid down, Banagher looked up at the wall as he lingered in a half-dazed manner, only to suddenly see Zinnerman, who had been looking at him, right in the eyes.
He wanted to get up immediately, only to notice a blanket covering him. His body that was lying on the hard floor was completely stiff, and whenever he moved, he would feel intolerably sore. Zinnerman took up the small pot heated over the fire and poured the fluid in it over to an empty can. Here, he then handed the can over while seemingly saying this. The fragrance of the hot soup flowed out from within, and Banagher received the soup can without thinking.
He hurriedly poured the hot soup into his thoroughly cold and dry body, finding it a waste of time to wait for it to turn cold. The soup that was heated by a real fire was different from a vessel that had a heating function, as it could warm even a person’s heart. His invigorated nerves were starting to move, and there was a sense of warmth inside his body. He could feel that his body that should have used all energy and strength was trembling due to delight, pulsating. I’m not dead yet, I’m still alive. The moment he understood this, he gathered all the warmth to his nose and looked up at the sky.
The tears that remained in his eyes flowed out, and he stared at the stars that flickered in his blurry sights. This night sky that was powered by something unknown was brighter than he thought. The galaxy’s arm flashed by as a river of light, causing the night sky to give a deep blue color.
“Why are you crying?”
Zinnerman threw a dried twig into the fire as he mumbled these words. Banagher continued to look up at the sky as he answered, “The stars are really so pretty…” My excuse here is really stupid, but it’s not a lie. Zinnerman then snorted and looked up above his head.
The sounds of the maggots resting in the ground were quietly welling the breath of night as they were gradually sucked in by the darkness. Banagher remembered that scorpions and snakes would be attracted by heat, and rubbed his teary eyes before looking around. He saw that there was a pesticide sensor around them, and heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed that they had already climbed over the sand dunes. The surroundings were an uneven rugged rocky stretch, and he could see rocks that were in weird shapes due to many years of constant erosion. The hard and dry ground had lithic scattered all over the place, and the shrubs could be seen growing from the ground. A small figure suddenly lit its eyes and quickly disappeared into the darkness, probably a mouse living in the desert or some other organism.
There were organisms living in this place that even humans had already abandoned a long time ago. They continued to endure the harsh conditions, followed their impulsive will to live blindly, and continued to look for prey all just to continue their daily life. Don’t they find this world unreasonable? Banagher looked up at this rocky wall that was most probably left behind by people of the past, and tried to pull through his thoughts that were not exactly thinking. Only humans were granted the ability to draw and to think. If this intelligence was the reason why humans felt that things were unreasonable, perhaps there was no other organisms who were caught in the cycle of cause and effect more than humans. If modern people could live with nature like those people who drew the wall painting—
“I feel like the saying that the Earth will be polluted is a hoax when I stay here.”
Zinnerman looked up at the clear starry sky as he suddenly spoke up. Feeling unexpected, Banagher stared the side of his face.
“But in fact, the sky here was a lot dirtier than before. It’s said that deserts would expand every year right until where Dakar is. This is a negative consequence of developing Earth again, and also a result of the abnormal weather caused by throwing down colonies and meteors…but these things probably didn’t matter to Earth.”
The wind blew through the cracks between the rocks, releasing the sound that resembled a human voice. Zinnerman did not look at Banagher’s face as he naturally continued,
“The meaning of protecting Earth is just about protecting the ecosystem humans relied on. This sentence can be established as the price of global warming, desertification, and Earth being polluted by chemicals. If humans can be considered to be the ones creating everything, the trash and toxins produced by humans can naturally be seen as part of nature. If humans are the only ones who can’t live, the likelihood is that nature is trying to achieve a balance. To Earth, it probably doesn’t matter whether there are any organisms living on Earth or not.”
Banagher, who nearly died at the hands of the desert, could empathize with this statement. Living together with nature—this kind of nature was probably a fantasy humans had after being pampered by civilization. He could only lower his head as he felt amazed by how shallow his thoughts were.
The older generations of humans who struggled against the harsh conditions instinctively knew about this. Nature will never show any mercy to humanity, so humanity created civilization to live on, and used the system called society to protect themselves. But as time went by, this system got overly complicated, and humans ended up having to live for the sake of maintaining the system. Humanity then launched wars and continued to develop, let the economy grow…until they ended up making it hard for them to live, reversing their priorities.
Once a fetter is set up, the task of protecting the fetter itself would become something the adults had to deal with, and this would cause them to lose their ability to view things from an objective standpoint— Banagher heard the words Daguza said before amidst the wind as they entered deep into his ears.
“That’s why humans tried to look for this new world in space, but the system still remained on Earth. What the system demanded was that the exceeding population was to be removed from the ground. In the end, a group of people were dumped into space and created a different system there.”
“It was Zeon. They brought hope to the Spacenoids who were basically abandoned and gave them a new system, indicating a new direction to live…naturally, the system on Earth was rejected. Two systems that originated from different sources couldn’t coexist. One side had to succumb. This was established and proven by history by people of the olden times, before the Federation’s system was set up.”
Zinnerman looked far away between the stars where his hometown was and kept quiet. Banagher felt that the vague parts in his mind were becoming words, seeping deep into his mind, and stared at the man making the fire brighter. Zinnerman then glanced over “What? I’m not suitable for such things?” and asked, hiding his embarrassed expression as he pouted. “No.” Banagher answered as he looked away from that unexpectedly amicable bearded face.
“I feel so amazed that you can arrange your thoughts so clearly, it’s amazing…my history studies will be more decent if I was taught this way.”
“That’s because nature turns everyone into philosophers.”
Zinnerman said with a comfortable voice and laid down on the ground. Banagher gave a wry look and stared at the empty can he drank from. “But…” he tried to turn the words in his heart into a voice.
“But, looking at history, humanity managed to create a united government in the Federation and created a world where billions of people could stay in space. I guess that’s just a fantasy to those in the old ages, isn’t it? Doesn’t humanity also have this kind of possibility? It should be possible for humanity to unify these two thoughts and create a new system…”
Someone believed this before. Banagher did not hope that the speech the First Prime Minister of the Federation made as he was crushed together with “Laplace” in space was just a speech. Zinnerman did not move his body that was using its arm as a pillow, “That was established with many sacrifices.” and said with a sigh.
“The Federation didn’t view everyone as equal. There’re many oppositions they shot down and fought. That grudge still exists on Earth. It’s not going to be easily removed just like that.”
Zinnerman showed his hatred of losing his wife and child because of the unjustness of history, and his face looked like a demon for a moment. Banagher was not willing to continue looking at him as he immediately lowered his head and said with a very inaudible voice, “That was really too sad…”
“Yeah, it’s sad. We lived on to abandon our sadness…so why did it end up like this…”
Zinnerman’s muttering face was no longer like a demon, but the face of someone who was tortured unreasonably by sadness as large as a mountain, but still wanted to live on as a human. It was also the face of a human who experienced pain because of knowledge and blood, and yet could show gentleness. This man is probably someone gentle. He doesn’t know how to deal with the cruel reality and can only let the devil reside in him—that’s really sad. Banagher’s chest that was telling him this was shuddering, and tears of various sizes welled up in his eyes, silencing him. He laid down on the ground, his back facing Zinnerman, and he used the blanket to cover his sniffling sound.
Zinnerman gave a sharp stare right at Banagher’s back. “I know!” Banagher said without looking at the other man.
“You want to say that a man can’t cry in front of others, right?”
He rubbed his eyes, “it depends on the time and occasion” only to hear a quiet voice, and turned to look at Zinnerman.
“It’s ugly when someone cries out of self-pity, but it’s different if tears are shed for others. I won’t trust a man who won’t cry no matter what happens.”
After saying that, Zinnerman snuggled his body into the sleeping bag and did not move. “We’ll leave before dawn.” This voice rang beside in Banagher’s ears before he was about to enter that were about to enter the silence.
“We have to at least make up time for lagging behind. Rest well. Many illnesses are caused by a lack of sleep.”
The back profile that looked like a bear swayed on the other side with the fire. Banagher had an exceptional impression on that back as he closed his eyes.
I can understand many things by thinking about it. This thought caused Banagher to immediately forget about the lethargic self he showed for the past few days, and he muttered to himself that he should first cross this desert. However, the astonishingly powerful sleep monster leapt at Banagher, and in a moment, he fell into a deep slumber.
However, it was not easy to make up time after lagging behind on a journey in the desert.
The result of spending twice the amount of time expected to cross the sand dunes was that the relatively easy schedule they originally estimated was debunked. By the time the 3rd day ended, they cleared more than 30km. After using up 3 quarters of the estimated time, the fact that they only covered half the distance was right in front of them.
In the desert, delaying their journey would cause dehydration, the most severe situation. It was said that the limit of moving in a desert without drinking was 4 hours. Once the limit was exceeded, humans would be unable to move, and they could only wait as the fluids in their bodies get evaporated.
There was no water source in the middle of this journey, and of course, they could not hope for rain. Even though they saw several dark clouds on the horizon, the water would evaporate before they landed. On the 5th day, the water they rationed to the maximum was left at less than 500ml, and the bag that was originally heavy became exceptionally light. This light weight was basically equivalent to the amount of life they had left—the sunshade that was draped down from their shoulders covered them, and Banagher saw the faded looking sky as he touched his forehead that became rough due to his skin peeling. The skin felt completely different from the border of cloth. There was still some form of original skin color and feeling within 1cm from the line, and it felt like he was in a form of happiness called oblivion. To a bystander, the color on his forehead was definitely divided in half, and the skin under the cloth was like a baby, not knowing the fatigue of someone at his limits, and not knowing thirst.
The sunset that had already left the horizon for a long time was scattering its evil heat rays diagonally. Banagher’s body required rest soon, but the back profile of Zinnerman that was walking in front showed no signs of stopping. He would look around from time to time, check the compass and the map, and continued to move beyond several rocky areas suitable for resting. If they stopped here, they would never move again—and Banagher had this sense of danger as well, but he did not feel that this was the only reason why Zinnerman would care about moving forward. During this time, he never saw Zinnerman check the GPS coordinates. Zinnerman did not say anything, and Banagher did not have the courage to ask him, but it was very likely that the GPS malfunctioned due to the heat.
No matter how long they walked, the similarly shaped rocky hills at the horizon were the only things that could be seen, and surrounding them were the wide and flat dry ground that was like the bottom of a pot. Without a landmark, they might not be able to walk straight even with the help of a compass. People would exert more strength in the leg they were more comfortable with, and it was very likely that they would end up leaving a long arc on the sand without knowing. Looking at the map, they were probably not too far from Astal, but there were still no signs of any towns on the horizon, probably because they deviated from their course. Banagher stared at Zinnerman’s back that was showing some anxiety as he merely felt a chill in an instant, and moved his legs with his blank mind. This was the only good thing about the desert. All doubts and anxiousness would be evaporated as sweat, and would not stay in the body. The hot wind that blew by would create some form of assistance, and everything that could be considered thoughts would flow out from the pores.
The wind that blew from the front was called Khamsin, a dry hot dusty wind. When the low pressure occurred in the Mediterranean or Europe, the hot air would flow in from the southwest into the Sahara. They would thirst to death if they did not hurry up, and if they hurried up, they would end up using up their water. Perhaps Zinnerman was in a state where he could not make decisions as well. The hot air blew onto his face like a hairdryer, and Banagher walked along this hot pot base, his body feeling completely hot. The completely parched tongue seemed like it became a sponge. This wind is so hot! The wind was constantly increasing in strength, blowing the heat that was enough to steam into the nostrils—
A black shadow appeared in the white vision, and Banagher lifted his head. Zinnerman, who stopped, let his body lie prone on the dry floor. He stared at the distant horizon of hills, not moving at all. The silhouettes of the rocky hills were shaking gradually, perhaps due to the effect of mirages, and it seemed to be rumbling like a tsunami.
No, that was not it. it was really rumbling. A reddish-brown block-shaped item was rising up from the horizon, gradually expanding as it became a vortex. That object could be seen gradually rising, slowly moving towards Banagher and Zinnerman. It was not the silhouette of the hills afar.
“A simoom…”
Zinnerman muttered. At this moment, the reddish brown vortex continued to increase in size as it spread towards the boundaries of the horizon they could see. The noise from the Simoom brewed across the land, whipping up a sand wall that was several hundred meters in height, sweeping the land like a flood ready to engulf the world. Zinnerman, who stood in a stunned manner, then grabbed Banagher by the arms, “Over here, hurry!” he said as he started running.
“If we stay at where we are, our skin will be eroded by the wind. We have to find a rocky place to prone down for cover.”
Both of them dashed towards the rock formation they could see on the other end as if their feet were about to be tangled up. At this moment, the force of the Simoom continued to increase, and the dust that blew upon their faces and hands started to become as sharp as rasp files. Being torn to shreds by the wind; there was a sudden sense of realism in the saying, and Banagher dashed while seemingly trying to run past Zinnerman. The Simoom—the falls of sand and wild winds continued to grow until it could nearly reach the sun at the top.
The skies were darkening, and the boom that rang with the Simoom caused the ground to rumble. Banagher and Zinnerman continued to run as they dashed into a small rocky area for cover. Both of them sprawled themselves onto the ground without any time to breath, and the Simoom that were far hotter than body temperature struck the rock as the dust hitting the top let out cracking sounds. Their faces felt hot, and they would have difficulty breathing if they had not looked away from the wind.
“Use the water to dampen the cloth and cover your mouth and nose! Or else the sandy-wind will suffocate you! Close your eyes, and do not open them until I tell you to do so!”
Banagher could barely hear Zinnerman roaring voice. He undid the sunshade cloth, used the little water left to dampen it and covered the lower half of his face with it. His mouth instinctively took in the water on the cloth, and before it could enter his mouth, the hot air that was over 50 degrees blew the cloth dry. The dust that blew into the rocky ground continued to pile up, and as his body was about to be buried in the sand, he turned his face around slightly to look at the Simoom that was looming towards him.
It was a bloody-colored mix of sandy clouds. The sun had already disappeared, and there was nothing that could be heard other than the sound of the wind covering the organs. He saw Zinnerman lunge right at him and cover the head, only to end up seeing the sand being lifted off the ground. Banagher closed his eyes, and his body that was devoured by the torrent of Simoom and sand froze.
His hands that were scratched by the sand were hurting, and the wind of death came blowing over with a reddish-brown color as if it was about to roast all the organisms, blowing over the 2 bodies that were lying prone on the floor mercilessly. Banagher was terrified of his body being lifted off the floor at any moment, and heard his heart bumping loud. Zinnerman, who was covered behind him, had his heart beating in unison, and Banagher clearly felt that the sounds of two lives resisting death were spreading through the outer world.
The sounds overwhelmed the sound of the wind, bursting through the roaring atmosphere and passing through the sky in the distant place. Banagher did hear this sound in the “Unicorn” before—so that is the sound of my heartbeat being amplified by the machine? At this point, he realized this fact amidst the last bit of his consciousness that was still left. Was humanity obeying this sound and fighting against the merciless nature all this while? Humans gathered to protect their weak individual selves, established societies and developed the outer shell called civilization before finally suppressing the world? Is this groundbreaking power of life a crime? Is the long history of wars leading up to the Universal Century just a record of senseless destruction? No, this throbbing was telling him this. It’s too early to give an answer. We’re still a group that’s growing. Don’t end the trend.
Dad, Mr Daguza, Mr Gilboa, I’ve built my life off their, and I’m not alone now. I have to live, I have to live on, I have to show the power and gentleness the people with knowledge and blood possessed.
The world rumbled, and the sound of the atmosphere being abused was moving far apart. What entered the bottom of his consciousness were the two throbbing sounds that overlapped each other. Banagher, who was buried by the Simoom, clenched his fists.
It was darkness in complete silence. The seemingly frantic flapping of a bird’s wings broke this silence and darkness, causing a weak light to appear.
Banagher opened his eyes that were originally shut and looked over at the sound. He saw a pigeon, leaving footsteps on the sand as it strutted on. It stopped, stared at Banagher, tilted its head, and then continued on without being too wary. Banagher moved his body that felt like it was sealed in wax and tried to pull his head that was nearly buried in sand. Swoosh, as the sound of sand fell, Zinnerman’s arms that were draped over him landed on the ground weakly.
Zinnerman once said before that pigeons were a sign. As pigeons would not move away from a water source, it meant that there was a town or an oasis nearby if they spotted on. Banagher looked around the desert that was devoid of wind and shook his head. He then turned his eyes beside him before the sand on his hair was shaken off, and then reached his hand towards the unmoving Zinnerman, wanted to check if the man with a beard stained white by the sand was breathing or not. The pulse was clearly beating into the fingertips pressing on the carotid, and as he heaved a sigh of relief, the sound of the pigeon suddenly flapping its wings caused his eardrums to rumble. It flew to the sky that was removed from the threat of the simoom, blocked the sun shining down for a while, and then vanished on the other side of the rocky ground.
Banagher undid the mask cloth that was covered with sand and took in fresh air. The sand entered his windpipe, and he coughed, but there was no sign of saliva dampening him. He could only care about spitting the powder-shaped sand in his mouth, supported himself off the rock and straightened his legs. He stared at the haversack that was covered with sand, controlled his swaying feet, and tried to get over to the other side of the rock to observe. The falls of red sand had subsided, and as he looked at the horizon that clearly divided the clear sky and the ground. At that moment, he felt his mind going blank.
After blinking a few times, he reached his hand out for the mouth that was blankly agape. He could feel the rough feeling of the cracked lips and the sound of the sand shaken off the hair, and once he realized that it was not an illusion, he was unable to believe his own eyes. He scampered back to the cover provided by the rock and shook Zinnerman, who was lying on the ground, several times, Captain, calling out in a barely audible voice. After a few times, Zinnerman suddenly opened his eyes and abruptly raised his large body that was buried in sand.
After looking around, Zinnerman turned his still seemingly unfocused eyes at Banagher, who in turn dragged him by the arm without waiting for him to move his mouth. He tried to support the large body that nearly tumbled, probably because his feet were unable to exert strength, and pulled and carried him to the other side of the rock. Zinnerman too opened his mouth in shock after seeing the horizon on the other side. He blinked his eyes that were staring at a single point, used his hand to wipe his face, patted off the sand on his beard, and leaned his neck forward while lying forward.
His face suddenly curled in a smile, and the voice that sounded like coughing echoed deep within his throat. After that, the sound that was spat out with the sand became a muffled laugh, before becoming an extremely loud laughter that echoed through the desert. The captain sees it too. It’s not a mirage. Banagher’s body finally confirmed this as he lost strength in him, and immediately collapsed onto the ground. Zinnerman, who continued to laugh, patted Banagher’s back hard, causing him to nearly fall forward. As his nerves connected within his tense face, he too started to laugh as he sensed that his face muscles could move.
He then patted Zinnerman on the back hard, letting his laughter mix in with the other man’s gruff laughter. How long has it been since I laughed out loud like this? This sudden thought was overwhelmed by the two men’s laughter as Banagher continued to laugh with all his strength. A pigeon which may or may not be the same one as before flapped its wings from another rock and flew to the blue sky on the other side of the horizon.
At the horizon it flew towards, there was a simple stone construct surrounding its edge, and the obvious greenery of coconut trees could be seen shining under the sunlight. Astal ignored the laughing duo as its scenery that probably never changed for hundreds of years appeared at a corner of the desert, clearly indicating that their journey was over.
3 days later.
The fusion reactor rocket engine that was asleep for a week awoke, and the thrusters on the side of the ship let out a roar. A large amount of sand came rising out from the white-hot jet flames, blowing aside the hill of sand buried in the bow, and the “Garencieres” that was lying in the desert rose gradually.
The sand clouds and dust covered the ship body that was 112m in length, and the hot wind could be felt from a 1km away. Banagher faced this storm that was stronger than the simoom, put on his goggles and covered his mouth with his hands. He could see the three wires tied to the bow of the “Garencieres” from beyond the raging sandstorm. The three giants that were originally on standby were were all desert mobile suits that were dyed a brown color, and they were moving, each pulling a wire to drag the bow of the “Garencieres”.
The machine with an armored silhouette was a Zaku-type, and the short and stocky machine with a hover inside the skirt was a Dom-type. All war museums would display these two machines, so Banagher was able to distinguish between them. They were both 1st generation mobile suits, and could be considered relics from the One Year War, but they could be used for manual labor that would be the equivalent for hundreds of men in this large-scale heavy machinery lifting. The giants that were tortured by the sand and dust trampled on the ground as they dragged up the spaceship that was like a giant whale by the portside, and the aft that was moved along was dragged out from the sandy hill as it was revealed. The aft turned towards the large hole left at the side of the ship as the “Garencieres” turned away, but this time, the wire at the aft was pulled up, and the large body of the “Garencieres” started to retreat.
There were also 3 mobile suits pulling the aft, and two of them had bodies of a caterpillar tank at the bottom, looking really strange there. The “Zaku tank” that had a “Zaku” upper body, and the arms were swapped to the easy magic hands, giving the vibe of a large and heavy construction machinery. The “Zaku tanks” were actively digging, and the “Dwadge” mobile suit that was slightly modified from the “Dom” pulled the “Garencieres” backwards as its bow was about to be lifted up. The aft was pulled to the edge of the ole, and the bow was lifted until the ship was tilting about 30 degrees. It then went past a certain point and fell into the hole due to its own weight. As it was about to fall into this 25m hole, the aft that was acting as support was immediately lifted vertically, causing a deep buzzing that rang throughout the desert around them. The thick cloud of dust that gushed out covered the “Garencieres”, and there was the sound of cheers and applause around them.
“Alright, good work!” Zinnerman let out a delighted call to the wireless communicator. Banagher waited for the sand to subside before taking off his goggles, and looked back at the “Garencieres” body that was lifted vertically. The VTOL ship landed perfectly under gravity conditions, and looked like a rocket ready to launch into space. Once the fuel it required was filled, the “Garencieres” should be able to launch whenever it wanted to.
It had been 2 days since he barely made contact through the phone in Astal, and the Zeon remnants and the people from Mauritania. The “Garencieres” was finally pulled up with strengthened wires attached based on the ship’s calculated toughness and a dug hole, a result of the work of mobile suits that worked tirelessly. “Amazing…” Banagher could only exclaim with honest amazement. Excluding the part that was sunk in the pothole, the “Garencieres” that stood in the desert was still 90m tall, about the height of a 40 story building, and one would think of the large Tower of Babel that appeared in the Bible. It seemed Zinnerman had the same feeling as well as he looked up at his ship a while after his contact with the wireless communicator. His face was saying, “Now we can get out of this damned place”, and he was filled with emotions as the word relieved would not be able to describe it completely.
“I want to thank you. If not for you, I might have collapsed out of fatigue on the way.”
That face suddenly spoke up calmly, causing Banagher to feel shocked. Banagher thought about how since he mentioned it at this point, they had not talked to each other. “Since when…” he felt his face heating up as he immediately answered, and his stare escaped towards the mobile suits that were walking loudly.
“I didn’t do anything. All I did was to pull you down.”
“Not exactly. It feels different to have someone I can talk to on the way. Your stubbornness is really quite an eye opener.”
Zinnerman smiled once he met Banagher slightly in the eyes. It seemed that all the suffering they went through paid off as well, and Banagher felt doubtful about his own feelings as he lowered his head. Behind them, Flaste seemed to have heard their conversation, “Man”, as he shrugged his shoulders.
“There goes the captain’s bad habit again. Is the Garencieres going to have a new member?”
Flaste showed a wry grin at Banagher, and it was not full of spite like the previous few days. These unexpected words entered their hearts, and Banagher looked back at Zinnerman’s face in a flustered manner. Zinnerman himself avoided the stare as he glared at Flaste, saying, “Is it fine for you to dilly-dally around like this?”
“They’re guerillas, but they’re an organization basically made up of illegal residents. Watch carefully and don’t let them wreck the ship.”
“Okay okay okay, I’ll try to be the demon supervisor… THAT “ZAKU” OVER THERE! DIDN’T I SAY THAT IT’S TOO EARLY TO RELEASE THE ROPE!?”
Flaste yelled into the wireless communicator as his face really became that of a demon supervisor as he ran right at the mobile suit that was moving around the sand. Banagher stared at the back profile that looked really carefree; and carelessly thought that they might be able to get along. However, he again felt a sense of doubt with this sense of belonging he seemed to have found. “Every unit is to hurry up with the checks. We’ll leave the desert tomorrow.” Zinnerman spoke behind Banagher, who looked up at the “Garencieres” that looked dazzling in the sun.
The “Unicorn” is sleeping inside there. I suppose we’ll be searching for the “Box” once we are ready to move out. Logically, the Federation army won’t sit back and watch this. Since there’re many mobile suits mobbing, they’ve probably grasped our movements. More than half of the Zeon remnants are guerilla organizations with illegal residents, but they’re not to be underestimated. If these people assist in the search for the “Box”, it’s not hard to imagine that Earth will be caught in a commotion again.
So, what should I do at that moment? Banagher let the sky enter his eyes as he recalled the crew members of the “Nahel Argama” that felt exceptionally distant. And then, a pair of emerald eyes suddenly appeared in his mind. Audrey Burne—the girl called Mineva Zabi was on Earth as well. She was definitely bothered and hesitant somewhere under this sky.
I really want to meet. The thought that rose from deep within clung onto Banagher’s heart, and as he clenched without much of a aim, the sound of a jet engine was mixed in together with the sound of the wind. Banagher immediately got into a defensive position as he looked around, and saw a small machine appearing from behind a sand dune.
It was an old VTOL carrier, and was similar to an old Cessna-class as it flew over Banagher’s head as he was watching. “Don’t worry, that machine contacted us.” Zinnerman said from behind, and Banagher looked where it flew. The VTOL carrier whiffed up sand and dust beside the “Zaku Tank” at the mobile suits the remnant army sent over, and landed with refined movements on the sandy ground, in front of the “Desert Zakus” that were tied in wires. The hatch on the side of the machine opened, and a person clad in black got up from the pilot seat.
The slender figure swayed amidst the mirage as it was covered in black cloth. Banagher saw that ethnic Arabian attire on television before… Is that a local? He stared at the silhouette that approached, identified the color of the eyes that were revealed between the gap of the clothes, and gasped, as the emerald eyes similar to Audrey’s were right in front of me.
“You’re Captain Suberoa Zinnerman, right?”
The silhouette ignored Banagher, who gulped, and asked with a clear voice. “That’s me. Who’re you?” Zinnerman answered, and the visitor removed the cloth below her nose.
“I’m Loni Garvey. I’m here on my father’s behest.”
Her brown face showed the same sparkling eyes as Audrey, and Banagher felt that she was of a similar age as his. He reflected on the beautiful-sounding name, and harbored a pressurized feeling while staring at the side of the girl’s face. Beside him, Zinnerman widened his eyes, “Father…I see, so you’re Madhi Garvey’s daughter?” Loni suddenly smiled and said,
“My father wants to meet you. Please come along with me.”
“It really doesn’t matter, but where is Mr Madhi?”
“He booked a hotel at Dakar.”
Zinnerman immediately showed a change in expression the moment he heard these unexpected words, “…Sound doesn’t sounds like we’re talking about business here.” In response, Loni kept the smile in her eyes. Banagher had a premonition about this and closed his jaw slightly.
“We heard of the information regarding the “Box”. The next coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program is Dakar…it seems that my father set up an appointment there to discuss with you.”
These words caused Banagher to recall what he forgot in his mind. The guide leading to the “Box”, the Laplace Process, had showed a new coordinates—and while Banagher turned his head inadvertently, Zinnerman did not look over at him as he turned his tense bearded face at Loni, saying “I understand, please wait for me to get prepared”, before leaving the place. Banagher felt that something was falling out of his grasp, but was unable to say anything as he watched the other man leave. “Are you the pilot of the ‘breaking horn’?” At this moment, Loni asked, and Banagher’s shoulders shuddered in shock the moment he heard it.
“‘Breaking horn’?”
“Isn’t that the mobile suit you’re piloting? I heard that it’ll split its horn, and the machine will become a “Gundam”.”
Loni showed her white teeth as she said that, and her adult-like expression which had a childish glint caused Banagher to gulp.
“You’re young, just like what I heard. If possible, you should come along?”
“Me too…?”
“You’re a Spacenoid, right? It’s not like you’ll lose anything if you visit Dakar. That is the capital of our enemy…the Federation government anyway.”
Loni turned around without waiting for Banagher to answer. Banagher wanted to argue that he did not think that way, but his voice was stuck in his throat as he could only watch Loni’s lean and petite figure. The new coordinates shown by the Laplace Program was at the capital of the Federation government, Dakar. He could not comprehend the meaning behind this, but he knew that things were spiraling downwards as he looked up at the “Garencieres” lifted before him. The dusty and sandy wind blew by, teasing his body for being unable to think of a next step.
