Cat and Kitten R&R
Tessa‘s day had been very busy.
As a colonel with the top-secret, high-tech mercenary team known as Mithril and commander of an amphibious fighting force, Teletha Testarossa had roughly several hundred people under her command. She always had a million things to do, naturally, but her work that day had been particularly trying. Specifically...
In the morning, she’d had to supervise maintenance on the Tuatha de Danaan (an amphibious assault submarine). Then she’d processed requests and reports from the crew. She’d been irritated to learn that the fire prevention systems in the hangar weren’t working as well as expected, disappointed that the variable torque screws were wearing out faster faster than they had been designed for, and angry about requests from the galley to mess with the switchboard so that they could get two more burners on the electric stove.
In the afternoon, she had a satellite meeting with Admiral Borda, head of Mithril’s operations division, to consult on various matters. He conferred to her grave news of suspicious movements in the East China Sea, rebuked her for losing too many arm slaves, and harried her yet again to return to his command (a proposal which she yet again declined).
In the evening, she paid visits to various officers to discuss high-level amphibious tactics. When all of the weapons mounted on the Tuatha de Danaan were mobilized, she was informed, they could only really use their full capabilities up to a hundred meters inland. Any further than that could lead to high-risk situations, but the deployment range of the ASes they relied on as their primary battle force would be limited... et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
None of these conversations were particularly enjoyable.
Her busywork continued even after the sun set on Mithril’s West Pacific Base, located on Merida Island in the south seas. Meeting with subordinates, discussing, arguing, scrutinizing sea charts and blueprints... then poring over intelligence division reports, followed by the civilian news, trade journals and her email. She read through quite a few essays, as well. With a lonely air about her, Tessa often meditated on the fact that she was probably the only sixteen-year-old girl in the world immersing herself in topics such as Fluid Dynamics of Supersonic Aquatic Projectiles: Their Technical Potential.
And then, after much wrangling, she finally finished up most of her work... around eleven o’clock at night.
This was more or less how Tessa’s life usually went. For dinner, she had a sandwich. She could eat quite a lot despite her small size—perhaps due to stress—and only slept four or five hours on average. When she slept, she slept fitfully. It wasn’t good for her health, or for her appearance. Fortunately, such treatment had yet to affect her delicate beauty or slender frame, but this was only due to her youth.
The women in her squad frequently teased her, wicked smiles on their faces:
“Enjoy it while it lasts, Colonel. Hee hee hee...”
“It all starts around the waistline. Hee hee hee...”
“Italian women like you, as they age, get it especially bad. Hee hee hee...”
Tessa would argue, on that last point, that middle-aged Italian women generally put on weight due to their participation in high-calorie food cultures. Besides, there was more Swiss-Austrian blood in her family line anyway... Her gray eyes and ash blonde hair were proof of that.
And yet, when she thought of the full-figured frame of her grandmother, who had died when she was little, Tessa couldn’t help but perceive their teasing as an apocalyptic prophecy.
But all that aside...
Tessa was understandably exhausted. She walked listlessly down the darkened underground corridor, bought a shiruko drink at one of the vending machines, then got a ride in a base security jeep to the officers’ living quarters.
Her own residence was a dainty little two-bedroom apartment with its own kitchen, a high ceiling, and a lot of space to stretch out in. It even got plenty of natural light during the day, thanks to windows that reached the surface. It was one of the best rooms in the base.
When Tessa had first arrived at the Merida Island base, she’d insisted that she wouldn’t do anything here but sleep, and that she’d be fine with more basic amenities. But her second-in-command, Lieutenant Colonel Mardukas—and the rest of the top brass—forced her to take it anyway, claiming that it was a matter of appearances. Nevertheless, she didn’t like the residence much. It made her especially uncomfortable when she thought about how the barracks for the enlisted men still leaked every time it rained, no matter how many times they tried to fix it.
Tessa sighed, loosened her necktie and entered the living room. She was surprised to find the TV already on, playing the CBS documentary program, 48 Hours. She looked around curiously, and only then did she see the woman in combat dress lying on the sofa. She was lazing about, a can of Budweiser in her hand.
This was Master Sergeant Melissa Mao of the ground team.
As a woman with an active and sporty image, Mao was almost the polar opposite of Tessa. She was Chinese-American and in her mid-twenties, with very short black hair and large, slightly almond-shaped eyes. She was part of the battle group’s elite forces—the Special Response Team—and one of their top AS operators.
Tessa looked down at her and said, “You’re here?”
“Hey,” Mao replied casually. “Welcome home.”
They weren’t roommates, of course, but Mao’s presence in Tessa’s residence was hardly unusual. Mao had a spare key and frequently let herself in to take advantage of Tessa’s apartment amenities. It was also true that despite being almost ten years apart in age, Mao was Tessa’s friend, and they frequently got together to discuss their troubles.
“Thanks,” said Tessa. “I thought it smelled like cigarettes in here...”
“Huh? The fan’s running,” Mao responded carelessly, without even a glance back.
When others were watching, they maintained the formality of their ranks. But in private, this was how they typically interacted. They shared an implicit sense of trust, as well as a mutual distaste for the insensitivity of the men in the battle group. They liked to discuss matters of romance together, or pore excitedly over a mail order catalog; more or less, the behavior of close friends.
But today, Tessa was especially tired. As she sat down heavily on the sofa across from her with a scowl, she yanked at the tab on her shiruko drink. “Even so, I wish you would consider the fact that Auntie Gloria might notice and talk.”
“Who’s Auntie Gloria?” Mao asked.
“The cook’s wife. She comes around to clean once a week, remember?”
“Oh, that old gossip.”
“Yes. Auntie Gloria, the rumormonger, will tell everybody that she came to clean my room and found it filled with empty beer cans and menthol cigarette butts,” Tessa said tartly. “What do you think will happen then, Melissa?”
“How should I know?” the other woman responded lazily.
Tessa looked down, a vein on her forehead throbbing. “They’ll spread rumors that I’ve cracked from the pressure and turned to underage drinking and smoking! Silent yet deep, the rumors will spread! Yesterday, when Colonel Mardukas came to my office, he all but told me to ‘drop my unhealthy habits’!”
“Aha.”
“I’ll admit, I do have a bit of a caffeine dependency, but that’s all,” Tessa insisted. “I can’t stand the idea of everyone thinking I’m drinking and smoking like some common prostitute!” It was, of course, simply a turn of phrase... but perhaps her day’s frustration was catching up with her, because she’d said it more pointedly than she’d meant to.
“Excuse me? Are you talking about me?” A wrinkle appeared on Mao’s forehead as she favored Tessa with a glance for the first time.
“Who else could I be talking about?”
“Huh... Well, well. I guess to the great Lady Testarossa, any girl who drinks and smokes is a whore?” Mao sneered.
The sudden use of profanity caused the blood to rise to Tessa’s head. But her voice itself was icy when she spoke at last. “Could you please refrain from the use of such language? You sound like a hoodlum in a gang movie.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re the one who’s basically a gang leader.”
This turn of phrase also struck a nerve with Tessa. She slammed her shiruko drink down on the table. “How dare you,” she hissed. “I work hard every day so that people don’t think that about us. And having grunts like you acting this way puts all my hard work to waste!”
“Grunts. Grunts?! Okay, that one I won’t take!” Mao was getting visibly angry too, now. She tossed her beer can aside and snapped up from her supine position on the sofa.
Tessa glared back at her. “Well, isn’t that what you are? It’s an appropriate word for someone as irresponsible as you! Just accept it!”
“Pull your head out of your ass!” Mao volleyed back. “You’re just a little girl playing officer!”
“How dare you! You don’t know anything about the work I do!”
“I think I can sum it up! You sit at the bottom of the sea, dishing out orders from your hidey-hole!”
“What an utterly ignorant thing to say!” Tessa spluttered. “But it’s understandable—a musclehead marine like you could never comprehend the responsibilities my position entails!”
The conversation had devolved into a competition of increasingly cheap shots. It didn’t even matter who had started it; at this point, they were both squarely focused on hitting below the belt as hard as they could. And since they were the only two people in the room, there was no third party available to step in and turn down the temperature.
As the mutual abuse reached its fever pitch, both women stood up.
“Disgusting!” scoffed Tessa. “Can’t you say anything that isn’t vulgar?!”
“Oh, shut up!” Mao retorted. “Why don’t you put yourself in the line of fire for once?!”
“Sheltered by the cutting-edge specs of the M9, you think you’re some brave hero?! I think you’re the one under a grave misapprehension!”
“You’ve never even piloted an AS before, so how would you know?!”
“I could if I wanted to! I simply haven’t done it yet!”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes! And I’m sure I could do it much better than a gut-reliant barbarian like you!” Tessa exclaimed. “Frankly, I doubt you’re even using the M9 to its fullest! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched you in action, irritated by your incompetence!”
“You... little brat...” With a vein throbbing in her forehead, Mao looked like she might jump on Tessa at any moment. “Prove it, then,” she hissed.
Tessa froze up. “P-Prove what?”
“Your skill with an AS. You talk pretty big, so you must be better than me, right? Why don’t we have a little skirmish on the practice grounds? If I lose, you can say anything you want about me. And I’ll do anything you tell me. You can say ‘kill yourself,’ and I will. You can tell me to grovel, and I will.”
“You...”
“But if you lose... I’m gonna make you do a lap around the whole base, naked! How’s that? Nah, I’m not a monster... I’ll let you keep your underwear on! Since you’re gonna lose anyway. Heh heh.” With that, Mao grinned brightly. It was a triumphant smile, the smile of ‘checkmate.’ Her expression radiated complete and total confidence that her request would force Tessa to back off.
What now, girl? Have you found a way out? That’ll teach you to tread on someone else’s territory. Stick your neck out too far and it gets slapped back in. Get it? Mao didn’t say the words out loud, but they must have gotten through nevertheless... because Tessa answered reflexively.
“Very well,” she said crisply. “I accept your terms.”
“...Wuh?”
“I’ll partake in your AS battle and feed you a dose of well-deserved humble pie,” Tessa clarified. “But if you lose, you’ll be the one doing a naked lap around the base!”
“Are you stupid?” Mao asked incredulously. “You can’t actually—”
“I’ll prove that you’re nothing special and make you the base laughingstock! Wait and see!”
“You...”
“The match will be in three days’ time! I’ll send the details soon! Now, remove yourself!” said Tessa, pointing to the door.
Mao just stood there silently for a moment, then she snorted and strode out. Tessa heard the door slam closed, and then the room fell quiet after. Then, suddenly, she realized that Mao had left something next to the sofa: Lancôme foundation.
I completely forgot... a week ago, I asked Mao to teach me how to use it. She must have come here tonight to show me... even though she was likely also exhausted from working overtime...
Tessa shook her head.
No... it doesn’t matter what she came here for. She’s made it very clear that she has no respect for my position. She’s self-righteous, egotistical, and condescending. And she clearly thinks I’m stupid—just some naive, spoiled little girl! She’s insensitive and cruel!
“I hate you, Melissa!” Tessa hissed, still fuming. It wasn’t until much later that she remembered that the terms of her challenge—the ability to control an arm slave—was far from being a trivial task.
“It’s your fault,” Sagara Sousuke and Kurz Weber said in unison as they pointed at Mao.
It was morning in the base’s mess hall. Mao sat across from her two colleagues, poking at her bacon and eggs. “H-Hey, don’t gang up on me,” she said, her fork pausing midair when faced with their mutual accusation. Kurz had noticed that something was wrong and refused to stop asking about it. In the end, she’d hesitantly revealed what had happened with Tessa the night before—and this, in turn, was their response.
Sousuke cut off a slice of a bright red tomato with his combat knife. “If an officer says something, you should agree with them. That’s the duty of the NCO.”
“Geh...”
Meanwhile, Kurz was shoveling ground soybean natto onto his piping hot rice. “Ignore this blockhead. Point is, you’re older, and that matters. Quit acting like a dumb kid,” Kurz said dismissively, then began wolfing down his meal. He was a handsome man with blonde hair and blue eyes, but when he ate like this, he looked like some foreign actor on a Japanese variety show. “C’mon, y’know... mm, isshogood... Tessa’s busy... homgh nomgh... She was probably just tired, right? Poor girl... omfgh mfgh...”
“I was tired, too,” Mao pointed out. “I was up all night writing reports.”
“Ha ha ha. You only end up working overtime like that because you suck at writing reports,” Kurz said with a smug expression on his face.
Mao suddenly leaped to her feet, leaned over the table, and put her hands around his neck.
“Geck!” he choked out.
“I have to work overtime because you’re always destroying things, failing to correctly calculate the ammo you’ve used, and writing crappy reports about it!” Mao bellowed. “Hear me?!”
“C-Can’t breathe... Stop...” Kurz begged, eyes bugging out as she throttled him.
Beside him, Sousuke quietly chewed on his tomato. “Well, Mao? Are you going to go through with the fight?”
“Huh? Um, well...” Mao, shoulders heaving, finally removed her hands from Kurz’s neck. “She sent me an email this morning... Here’s what it says.” Mao pulled a handheld notebook-style portable terminal from her breast pocket, turned it on and showed it to Sousuke. The LCD screen displayed a message from Tessa.
Dear Melissa Mao:
Pursuant to our discussion last night, please come to ‘Twin Rock’ in sector B5 on the 1st practice grounds at 1800 hours on the 21st. You may bring an M9 (E-006) with any of the following:
▼GDC-B Assault Rifle
▼Boxer Shotcannon
▼ASG96-b Smoothbore
The funds for the above, paint rounds, a training ATD, and a training cutter have already been allotted.
Teletha Testarossa.
PS: Don’t chicken out.
It wasn’t an official order. It was just a personal message. She’d probably paid for the rounds out of her own pocket, too. But that extremely precise manner of writing, followed by that biting post-script...
“Yikes, she’s all-in on this. Scary,” Kurz said, having recovered enough to peer at the terminal.
“The colonel, acting that way...” Even Sousuke couldn’t help feeling a chill as he read the email. It was that same little chill that Chidori Kaname gave him, the chill of the opposite sex. A woman didn’t need shouting or violence to make a man tremble. He handed back the terminal, feeling cold sweat rise on his temples. “Are you going to accept?”
“Of course I am. She’s not gonna get away with this. Heh... heh heh... heh...” said Mao, her face contorting awkwardly. She was clearly going for a cocky smile, but the rising fury inside her was making that difficult to accomplish... although the resulting expression was terrifying enough in its own right.
“My understanding was that the colonel had no AS piloting experience,” Sousuke pointed out.
“Yeah. She doesn’t,” Mao said.
“Mithril’s M9s are designed for specialists. It may be disrespectful to say so, but I don’t believe an ordinary person could use one easily.”
“Yeah. And she’s clumsy at the best of times, to boot.”
“It sounds like it won’t even be a contest, then.”
“That’s right,” Mao agreed. “It won’t even be a contest.”
Sousuke was right. Even if Tessa did manage to get the AS moving, Mao’s advantage was undeniable; she would outstrip Tessa by an order of magnitude, at least. Even your average military AS pilot would struggle against her.
This was a matter of more than just animal instinct and talent. Mao knew most machines’ attributes, their strengths and weaknesses. She held a master’s degree in engineering and knew AS systems and tactics like the back of her hand. She even had the know-how to participate in AS design and development projects—Mithril’s new cutting-edge M9s had actually incorporated a number of Mao’s ideas. With all that plus a wealth of battlefield experience, she was the kind of resource any manufacturer would love to have on staff.
Tessa was quite knowledgeable about ASes as well, but actually piloting one was a different story. Frankly, there was zero chance of Tessa beating Mao.
“Cut it out,” said Kurz. “The poor girl...”
“He’s right,” Sousuke agreed. “It’s a waste of time.”
“I can’t do that,” Mao told them. “I’m gonna make her regret this. I’m gonna push her around until she’s weeping and begging for forgiveness. Mwa ha ha...” A sadistic sort of joy radiated from Mao as she imagined the scene. Some truly unenlightened thoughts seemed to be running wild in her mind.
Sousuke and Kurz both grimaced.
“You appear to be enjoying this...”
“Total sadist. Seriously, you’re acting like a kid.”
“Yeah, well, so is she. She’s a child, after all,” Mao boasted breezily.
Just then...
“Who are you calling a child?” asked a quiet voice.
The three turned to see Tessa standing there. She was dressed in her usual khaki-colored uniform, with a laptop and file case tucked under her arm. She looked like her usual put-together self, but there were large bags under her eyes. She must not have been getting much sleep lately.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the colonel,” Mao said blankly.
Kurz and Sousuke were both frozen for a moment, but eventually waved to and saluted Tessa respectively, then turned awkwardly back to their breakfasts.
“You gotta go with that California-grown natto,” Kurz said to Sousuke.
“I wonder what makes tomatoes red?” Sousuke mused in reply.
Meanwhile, Mao and Tessa just glared at each other. Seeming to catch on to the frosty air around them, the other men in the mess hall had gone quiet. The only remaining sound was that of crackling sparks between them.
It was Tessa who broke the silence first. “I’m sure you’re thinking you’ll beat me easily.”
“Well, yeah. I probably will.”
“You will not. But get your hopes up all you want.”
“Hmph. A bigger question is that naked lap around the base... Are you really gonna go through with it?” Mao taunted.
“I certainly would. I fully expect you to do it, after all.”
“Grr...”
Tessa cut the conversation short and turned her eyes to Sousuke. “Sergeant Sagara?”
“Ma’am?” Sousuke snapped to his feet, his back going ramrod straight. His face was pale, and he wondered if he’d done something to upset her.
“I need to speak with you. Come along a moment.” With that, Tessa marched out of the mess hall.
Once they’d reached an empty corridor some distance away, Sousuke spoke up, timidly. “Colonel. How can I help you?”
She was trembling slightly. Is she angry? he wondered. That would be understandable, but I really didn’t have anything to do with—
“I have a favor to ask you,” Tessa said, her back to him.
“Oh? A... favor?”
“Yes. It’s something only you can do. I know it’s mixing personal and squad business, but... please don’t hold it against me.”
“I won’t,” he promised. “I’ll do anything I can.”
Tessa turned back around and met Sousuke’s gaze. Her tired gray eyes trembled behind tears. “Do you mean it?”
“Affirmative. Ask me anything.”
“Thank you. That makes me... very happy.”
“I’m sure... anyone would do the same,” Sousuke said, but he did feel strangely tense. He thought, It must be something extremely serious...
What should he do if Tessa asked him to kill Mao, or at least cripple her for life? Should he refuse? Should he claim he’d killed her while secretly smuggling her to South America? If so, he’d have to find a corpse that matched Mao’s frame sufficiently. He could stage an explosion, swap the body with hers, then prepare escape routes and forge plane tickets...
It’s going to be a big job, Sousuke realized. He’d had plans to fly back this afternoon and watch a movie with Kaname, Kyoko, and their friends. But he wouldn’t have any time for that now!
“Sagara-san?” Tessa scowled at him.
Sousuke was wearing his usual sullen expression, but he was now white as a sheet, sweat dripping down his face. “Er?”
“What’s the matter? You’re looking rather ill...”
“No... I, er... You want me to kill her?”
“Where in the world did that come from?” asked Tessa, slumping over and letting out a deep sigh.
Sousuke felt relieved, yet slightly flustered. “What is it, then?”
“Well... I was hoping you could train me.”
“What?” Sousuke echoed.
Tessa clenched her fists. “Teach me how to control an AS. You’re just as skilled as she is, aren’t you? I want you to make me strong enough to beat her!”
Sousuke just stood there, stunned. A big job, indeed...
That afternoon, Major Andrey Kalinin, ground commander for the Tuatha de Danaan, stopped by Tessa’s office with his usual stack of documents.
“Excuse me, Major,” said Tessa’s secretary, Second Lieutenant Jacqueline Villain. She was a tall woman with short blonde hair and a tan. “I let everyone with appointments know, but Colonel Testarossa won’t be taking afternoon appointments for the next three days, until the twenty-first. So, she’s not in right now.”
Kalinin frowned slightly. “Just afternoon appointments? Why is that?”
“She didn’t tell me, but she did seem rather tired.”
“Hmm...” Kalinin wondered if Tessa was using some of her built-up leave time. In truth, she really was working too hard. There were far too many things in this squadron that only she could decide. She was the kind of indispensable resource for whom the term ‘excellent’ barely scratched the surface, and he frequently thought that the squad really had to start taking better care of her. Especially since repairs and maintenance on the de Danaan would be finished a week from now and they’d be heading out into the ocean for some time...
“That’s fine,” he said. “Does Colonel Mardukas know about this?”
“He should, but...”
“Glad to hear it.” Kalinin walked out, heading for Lieutenant Colonel Mardukas’s office, which was just a little ways away. First, there were the rumors of her taking up drinking recently, and now this strange request for leave... There were a few things he would have to confirm.
“Hmm... ah, I’m sorry. Yes. An urgent... No, it’s not particularly dangerous. But please, go on with Tokiwa and Onodera. Tomorrow? No, I won’t be back for a while... The situation is still unfolding. Yes, please do. Goodbye.” Sousuke hung up the satellite phone and let out a big sigh.
He was standing on the sandy beach on Merida Island’s east side. Towering palm trees, an infinite horizon, an endlessly blue sky, and the pleasant crashing of the waves... It was a scene right out of a travel agency’s pamphlet.
There was an arm slave sitting nearby on the beach. It was an M9 Gernsback, a cutting-edge humanoid weapon in Mithril’s arsenal. Its body was gray and possessed a slender, agile silhouette made up of a combination of complex curves. Its head looked like a fighter pilot wearing a helmet.
Sousuke was standing next to the M9, hands on his hips and eyes downcast. Then, as if to snap himself out of it, he nodded several times. “Shall we begin?” he asked, looking back grudgingly to where Tessa was doing warm-up exercises on the sand.
She was dressed in activewear: a baggy T-shirt and black hot pants, with never-before-worn Nike sneakers and ash blonde hair tied up neatly. She looked less like she was about to pilot an AS and more like she was about to play basketball... but as there were no operator’s uniforms in her size, this would have to do.
“Yes. I await your instruction, Coach!” Tessa said in a surprisingly forceful tone. She’d seemed in far better spirits since leaving the base with Sousuke. It was as if all of the exhaustion of the office had blown away.
“Er, Colonel,” said Sousuke, “I’m not sure about the title of ‘Coach’...”
“But you are my coach,” she pointed out. “I could call you Sagara-san if you prefer.”
“I would appreciate that,” he said hesitantly.
“All right. Sagara-san!” said Tessa with a grin.
Sousuke felt nervous in a way he found hard to describe. What if something went wrong and she got hurt somehow? And he’d had to cancel his plans with Kaname...
“Yeah, whatever. Work is work, right? Ha ha ha. Mega-ha,” she’d said... but he couldn’t help but feel that Kaname had been offended.
What have I done? Sousuke wondered. It was his usual thought whenever Tessa dragged him into something ridiculous. He didn’t dislike her by any means. In fact, he cared about her a great deal—in a different way than he did for Kaname—and he was honored that Tessa had come to him for help. It was just that she always acted so uninhibited around Sousuke, and he never quite knew how to feel about that...
No, don’t think about it, he told himself. Get to training.
Shaking off his concerns, Sousuke cleared his throat. “First, how to board.” Sousuke slapped the M9’s armor. “As I’m sure you know, the M9’s cockpit hatch is where it is in most ASes: at the top of the chest, behind the head. It’s designed that way so that the pilot can easily escape if they fall over and become immobilized. It’s a significant distance to the ground, so be careful when boarding. Even in storage posture, the head is four meters up—the height of a building’s second story. So please be—”
“Yes, I’m aware of all that. I hear that the US Armed Forces have thirty falling accidents a year. Fortunately, no casualties yet,” Tessa added with an almost smug air about her.
Sousuke found himself a bit intimidated by her knowledge. He had never heard any of that.
The M9 was currently in a rather silly posture, seated on its knees with its arms drooping limply at its sides, but this was the posture in which the AS was generally stored while in a hangar: They were too unstable when standing, and lying down, they took up too much space. Seeing ASes lined up in this posture in the hanger, they looked like judo students receiving a lecture from their teacher. It really was a bit pathetic.
“There’s a lever for the lift device on the ankle,” he instructed. “Give it a pull.”
“Right.” Tessa did as she was told. There was a thick lever hidden underneath the armor, around the place a cuff would be on a human pant leg. She removed the safety and pulled the lever, then heard a release of pressurized air from above as a rope ladder made from black polymer resin rolled down the AS’s back.
“A veteran can climb without the rope, but I wouldn’t recommend that for you,” Sousuke said. “Go on. Climb up.”
“Right.” Tessa slowly began to mount the ladder dangling from the machine’s back. “Here we... go. Th-This is really... quite difficult, isn’t it?” The rope ladder swayed back and forth with her weight. With great effort, Tessa climbed it rung by rung until she reached roughly the machine’s waist level. “Eek...” Then she put one foot wrong and fell, tumbling head-over-heels.
Whump! Sousuke caught her, but her momentum sent him tumbling to the ground. Doing this training on the sandy beach had been the right call. “Were you injured, Colonel?” he asked gallantly, even as he was crushed beneath her weight.
“I... I’m fine, of course,” she said. “I’m sorry.” They lay on the sand in a tangle, alone on that beach, wrapped in each other’s arms. It seemed to take Tessa a moment to realize this, and when she did, her cheeks turned slightly pink. “In fact... I feel like I’m a little better off for it,” she said rapturously, and didn’t try to move away.
Sousuke could feel the soft sensation of her body, its faint warmth, and the mild smell of sweat. Oh, no, he thought. This is... This is very bad... Sousuke was filled with an indescribable sensation and a surging sense of guilt. He froze up like a rock, uncertain what to do.
Tessa’s training continued to be a headache for Sousuke. Tessa just couldn’t seem to make it to the hatch and, worried that she might really hurt herself eventually, Sousuke was forced to board the M9 himself and move it into a fully face-down posture. From that position, she could reach the hatch without the rope ladder.
Once she was inside, the booting up of the generator, vetronics, and sensors all went smoothly. This part, she seemed to be an expert on. It was truly impressive.
But it was then that the real challenge began.
After Tessa got the M9 standing through an automatic process, they began to practice the most basic of maneuvers: walking. It sounded like a simple act, but it was in fact fairly tricky.
For a bit of technical background... the word ‘arm slave’ was short for ‘Armored Mobile Master/Slave System.’ As the name suggested, the machine employed the master/slave system popular in robotics, in which the slave (the machine) mirrored the movements of its master (the operator). But since an environment that would let the operator move their arms freely would require more space than an efficiently scaled weapon could afford, the AS actually used an altered version of the system known as ‘semi-master/slave.’
The cockpit was cramped, with just enough room to hold a single person. The operator sat snugly in that space, performing just the slightest movement that they wanted their machine to imitate. If they wanted its elbow to bend ninety degrees, for instance, the operator would bend theirs twenty to thirty; the machine would mirror the operator’s movements in exaggerated form. The internal computer did a degree of interpretation and averaging out in order to keep the movement smooth, and in fact, the computer’s ability to manage this ‘smoothing out’ was a huge factor in judging a machine’s overall capabilities.
In other words, the smallest movement from the operator could result in huge, dramatic movements from the machine. What would that mean with a clumsy and awkward girl at the controls?
“Now... try taking your first step,” Sousuke said over his small FM transceiver.
“Right. Here I come.” Tessa, now on board, spoke through the external speakers as she did as she was told. She’d probably intended to just take a tiny step, but perhaps she’d gotten carried away... One way or another, she ended up trying to take a normal step. This motion, in turn, was replicated loyally—with greatly exaggerated power—by the cutting-edge M9. Its highly flexible leg tore upwards, planting a hard knee-strike into its own chest.
“Eek?!”
In a series of moves impossible for a human to replicate, the M9 completely lost its balance, spun through the air and landed on its back. Its massive body kicked up huge piles of sand on impact.
“Colonel?!” Sousuke cried in concern.
“Geh... ack, hkk!” Tessa coughed and choked from the impact of the collapse—but these movements, too, were enhanced by the M9. Each tiny flex of her back caused it to shoot several meters into the air, which in turn confused Tessa even more, causing her to flail with her arms and legs... movements which the M9, once again, enhanced significantly.
Tessa panicked, and the M9 panicked worse; it was a vicious cycle. Like a fish thrown onto land, the gray machine flopped about, looking utterly absurd. It rolled around on the beach, knocking over palm trees, stirring up a sandstorm, and splashing into the ocean... but even this didn’t stop it from continuing to thrash around, kicking up sea spray.
It was far too dangerous for him to approach. Sousuke could only shout over the radio. “Colonel! Stop moving! Colonel!”
“H-Help me!” Tessa wailed.
“Lie still! Don’t move!”
“I can’t! It won’t stop!”
“Colonel!”
And that more or less covered their first day of training.
In the base’s one and only pub, Darza, at the SRT’s assigned seats—in other words, the counter—sat Mao, who was nursing her beer. She was already on her fifth pint. She really could have switched to something else by now, but she’d just kept drinking beer.
She had a superstition that bad things happened when she tried drinking something else. When she’d gotten the news that the aunt who’d cared for her while growing up had been in an accident, she’d been drinking wine. When her Japanese-American marine boyfriend had broken up with her, she’d been drinking bourbon. When she’d been drinking a frozen daiquiri, a drunkard had thrown a Bloody Mary on her and ruined her favorite evening dress. And there was more where that came from. Several things she didn’t want to remember, too. Beer alone was safe. Yes, beer alone...
And yet, even that line of defense was beginning to break down. She’d definitely been drinking beer in Tessa’s room the other night. What can I drink from now on? she wondered. But as wondering wouldn’t solve the problem, she simply ordered her sixth pint.
“Again? Order something else already,” the bartender rasped at her sourly.
“’S’okay. Old man. Pour s’more.”
“Fool,” scoffed the bartender. “Don’t call me old man; I’m still young. I could even give a young filly like you a night to—”
“F’gettaboutit. Just givvit up, sweet old man. Burp.”
“Hah. Pity’s sake...” The bartender slammed a foamy tankard on the bar. His body language was that of a surly cat’s owner, plopping down its dinner for the night.
Undeterred, Mao started in on her sixth beer, just as Kurz arrived and sat down next to her. “Wow, someone’s been drinking,” he remarked. “I can smell it from here. Nice one, Big Sis.”
“What’shyer problem?” Mao asked, her large almond-shaped eyes glazed over with drunkenness.
Kurz ordered his usual from the bartender before leaning in to speak to Mao. “Looks like she’s practicing hard.”
“Who is? At what?”
“Tessa,” he specified, “at AS stuff.”
“She’s stupid. Poor Sousuke,” Mao whispered indifferently.
Kurz winced in reply. “You’re the stupid one here. You know you forced Tessa into this, right?”
“How come?”
“She’s basically lived her whole life having to prove she can do things when someone tells her she can’t,” he pointed out. “Then you up and tell her she can’t pilot an AS? You’re the stupid one, Big Sis.”
Mao was incensed by his smug expression. “Look, I know a lot about that girl. I know her favorite snack, her most hated bug, and her bra size,” she boasted. “But in all I know about her, the one thing I never liked is how she gets way too stubborn about things for her own damn good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She’s got this stupid martyr complex. She’s convinced she alone can change the world! And that includes me... She wants to control me. Like I said, she’s a child.”
“How did you act when you were her age?” Kurz inquired.
Here, Mao sank into thought. She’d had a wild side growing up in New York, but she’d thought of herself as being a ‘good’ delinquent: didn’t touch drugs, loyal to her friends, protected the weak—all that good stuff. Was she convinced, back then, that she could change the world? Did she care about anything as much as that girl did? To the first question, the answer was yes. To the second... it was no.
“Actually, I think I was probably way stupider than her,” she admitted honestly.
For some reason, Kurz cackled.
“What?”
“Wow,” he said. “Is that how you really feel?”
Mao didn’t get angry, but just slumped over the counter instead. “Yeah. Guess so. I just can’t help but feel like she’s better than me.”
It was the second day of training. Tessa had just gotten the M9 to the point where she could walk it around successfully. She’d switched her control mode to semi-automatic, then set the bilateral angle—the degree to which the machine amplified the pilot’s movements—to its most generous setting.
There were countless footprints on the white sandy beach. The M9 tottered along like an old man who’d lost his walking stick, following its predetermined course back and forth, back and forth. At times it wobbled, but caught itself firmly. Given the disaster of the first day, it was impressive progress.
“Let’s take a short break,” Sousuke said in the tone of an instructor, glancing at his watch.
“Yes, sir. Here we... go...” The M9 got down on its knees with some effort, then placed its hands on the ground and lay down awkwardly. The chest and head slid together, revealing the cockpit hatch.
“Whew...” Sousuke offered his hand to Tessa, who slid out of the cockpit, covered in sweat. She was unsteady on her feet and on the verge of falling, but he supported her.
“Thanks,” she said. “It feels almost strange to walk on my own legs again...”
“It will feel that way for a while.”
“My reading told me that most falling accidents happen after boarding, rather than before. I think I understand why, now...” Tessa giggled to herself. She looked extremely tired and vaguely nauseated, but also rather satisfied with the progress she’d made.
But... There was still no way that Tessa could beat Mao. Walking alone wasn’t enough. At this rate, he could probably get her good enough to run... but what was the point? Aiming, jumping, evasive maneuvers, effective usage of obstacles... There were so many things about combat that she had yet to learn. After coming this far with Tessa, Sousuke wanted to do everything he could to help her win. But the reality was all too clear.
Tessa spoke, as if reading his mind. “You’re thinking I can’t win too, aren’t you?”
“What? I—”
“It’s all right. You don’t have to pretend.” Despite her words, Tessa didn’t sound particularly upset. “But I’m not stupid, either, and I know the basics of combat. I’m not challenging her with a spirit of noble self-sacrifice.”
“You intend to win, then?” Sousuke asked.
“Yes,” Tessa said easily. “I’ve been thinking up plans for these past two days. Part of why I asked you to be my coach was to get your opinion.”
With that, Tessa walked up to the bag she’d set nearby, pulled a piece of paper from it and opened it on the sand. It was a detailed map of Merida Island. There were marks here and there written in red pen, mainly in the first practice grounds and the B5 area.
“You see?” she said. “The wilderness is very thick here, with poor visibility. And the ground is very soft...” Tessa explained her thinking to Sousuke, point by point. She indicated places on the map as she talked, showed him pictures from the site, and fluently laid out her plan.
Sousuke was genuinely shocked. It wasn’t a particularly novel plan; a fairly standard bait-and-ambush, in fact. It was about the best plan a novice like Tessa could hope for. But the fact remained that Sousuke’s own ideas about Tessa’s best shot were a perfect match for what Tessa was saying now... and Sousuke was a professional AS combatant. The fact that she could match him that easily...
She really is something, he thought. There was a reason she was the battle commander of the Tuatha de Danaan. “It’s a fine idea,” he said.
“Do you think so? That’s good. It was worth all the hard work I put into it, then.”
“If that’s your plan, I would recommend plotting your route this way,” he advised her. “Given the time of day, it will give you backlighting.”
“I see...”
“But one way or another, you’ll only get one chance.”
“I’m happy just to have the one chance,” she admitted, her shoulders slumping. “If I try it and fail, I’ll give up.” Tessa seemed refreshed now, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. During these two days of training, her anger and resentment towards Mao seemed to have vanished. She’d brought Mao’s name up several times over the course of their strategy discussions, but she no longer spoke the name with venom. If anything, she spoke it with fondness. “I’m going to give Melissa a real shock,” she said, folding up the map.
“A shock?”
“Yes. As long as I can do that, I can easily handle a naked lap around the base. I mean it.” Her pretty face lit up with a smile.
A low, rocky mountain stood painted in the colors of twilight; at its summit was a strangely shaped rock. The rock was large and top-heavy, about half as tall as an AS, and supported by a slightly smaller rock. The two rocks stood at the open tip of the mountain, and they were frequently used as a landmark for those utilizing the training grounds. They called it ‘Twin Rock’ for reference.
An M9 was crouched in front of Twin Rock: this was Mao’s machine. It carried a 40mm rifle loaded with paint rounds and nothing else. Not even a spare magazine. This was all she’d felt she needed. Mao herself leaned silently against the rock, dressed in her black operator’s uniform, arms folded. She glanced at her watch: 1831 hours. It was over thirty minutes past their agreed-upon meeting time.
“She’s late,” she whispered in annoyance.
Kurz, sitting beside her with his chin in his hands, let out a small sigh. He knew it was none of his business, but he’d come to watch in the spirit of curiosity. “Y’know...”
“What?”
“You ever read about Miyamoto Musashi, Big Sis?”
“What’s that? A battleship?”
“Ah... Never mind. Don’t worry about it,” Kurz said with a chuckle.
Not long after, a new AS appeared. It couldn’t be seen through the thick brush, but its footsteps could certainly be heard. The revving of a drive system echoed out, and the faint growl of a gas turbine engine approached.
Mao blinked in confusion. A gas turbine engine? Doesn’t the M9 use a nearly silent palladium reactor? Can it be...
An AS appeared out of the tall underbrush. It had a slightly squat body, like a man in a life jacket, with thick, sturdy biceps and thighs. The head was long and narrow, giving an insectoid impression. Tessa was standing on its arm, suggesting that it must be Sousuke in the pilot’s seat.
“Huh. An M6?” Kurz whispered.
The AS that had arrived was an M6 Bushnell, a machine from the previous generation to the M9. The model was still used in front-line combat for any number of militaries, but its agility, stealth, and power were all inferior to the M9’s.
Regardless, Mao nodded. “I see... Well, that makes sense.”
The M6 was the M9’s inferior in most respects, but it had a few things going for it. One was that it was easier to pilot than the M9. If Tessa couldn’t make use of the M9’s superior specs anyway, she might as well swap over to this ‘best seller’ machine... and had likely done so on Sousuke’s recommendation.
The M6 stopped and went down on one knee. Tessa, in her activewear, hopped down.
“You’re late,” Mao said.
Tessa smiled slightly. “I’m sorry. I was hungry, so I had a light lunch.”
Mao said nothing. It was obvious to her that Tessa was trying to provoke her, yet she couldn’t quite staunch her irritation nonetheless. It was a nasty thing to do while acting so innocent. Or, she thought, maybe it was Sousuke’s idea?
Tessa seemed very calm. There was none of the anger, irritation or impatience she’d displayed at the start of their fight, just a strong determination of some sort in her eyes. They certainly weren’t the eyes of someone about to ask to call the match off.
Does she actually think she can beat me? Mao wondered suspiciously.
“All right, let’s begin. How about we get 800 yards away, then say, ‘ready, start’? Sagara-san will be the judge.”
“Fine by me,” Mao agreed. Sousuke would probably be impartial; Kurz, much less so.
“Very well,” said Tessa. “Do you agree to that, Sagara-san?”
Sousuke disembarked from the M6 and then nodded.
“Then let’s get ready,” Tessa said, turning to her M6. Then she stopped a moment. “Melissa?”
“What?”
“No mercy, all right?”
“That’s the plan.” In fact, Mao intended to end this ASAP and then book it back to base. She had no intention of letting Tessa win, but wasn’t particularly enthused about the fight, either. It’s all so stupid, she thought. Fighting a newcomer in a damned M6... What’s there to get excited about? How’d we end up in this lousy situation?
Sousuke pointed a revolver in the air and fired. The gunshot echoed through the practice grounds, serving as a declaration of open hostilities.
“All right...” said Mao, her M9 taking immediate action.
Tessa’s machine, a bit less than a kilometer away, was no longer in sight, blocked from Mao’s view by the rocky mountain. But Mao jumped her machine two or three times, taking her through the thick jungle trees fast enough that she could soon see the stumbling M6 in the darkness.
《11 o’clock, distance 6. Target sighted. One AS. Designate target Alpha-1.》 The M9’s AI gave a simple report. Mao didn’t exactly need the info under these circumstances, but in a real battle—particularly when things got chaotic—such voice messages could prove surprisingly useful. The M6 didn’t even have this function; sophisticated talking AI systems were only available on Mithril’s M9s and combat helicopters.
She was 620 meters away, more than close enough for a 40mm rifle to hit. Mao manipulated her machine skillfully, kneeling it down on the summit of the rocky mountain and pointing its rifle at Tessa. The stumbling M6 was a sitting duck. “All right,” Mao decided, “one should do it.” She let out one shot on her semi-automatic setting.
The paintball flew at the M6... and broke apart on a tree separating them. Red drops of paint splattered the shoulder of Tessa’s machine. But...
“That’s a miss,” said Sousuke’s voice over the radio. He was standing on top of Twin Rock, watching Tessa’s machine through his binoculars.
“Huh?” Mao asked incredulously. “How come?”
“It wasn’t a direct hit,” he reminded her. “You hit the tree in front of her.”
“What in the world? If that had been a live round, it would’ve blown through the tree and hit her dead-on!”
“But it wasn’t a live round. It was a paint round.”
Mao couldn’t exactly argue with that. The logic of ‘pretend it’s a real battle’ wouldn’t hold water when Tessa was already in an M6. The situation was as far from reality as anyone could get.
“Ah... dammit!” Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Mao fired three more paintballs at Tessa’s machine. But the jungle around the M6 was thick, and it was hard to land a direct hit with paintballs through all the branches and leaves. Tessa’s M6, seemingly herded by the mist of red paint exploding around it, continued swiftly westward.
“All misses,” Sousuke reported. “Not one direct hit.”
“This is ridiculous!” She’s totally covered in my paint! Mao thought in frustration. How in the world—
Blam! The M6 fired a shot back from the forest. A paintball exploded close to Mao’s machine, creating a blue fog around her.
“Whoops...” Snapping back to attention, Mao hid behind a rock. Guess she’s gotten good enough at aiming and firing, at least...
“That’s a miss, too. You’re lucky, Mao; if those had been live rounds, shrapnel might have taken out your sensors.”
It was a truly irritating comment.
Kurz butted in then. “That’s right. Nice job, Tessa! Keep at it!”
“Y-You people...!” Mao screamed. It seemed that making Sousuke the judge had been a mistake. But... “Whatever. I just need to land a direct hit, right?”
“Affirmative.”
“Then watch this.” Mao’s M9 sprang into action. She ran it down a rocky slope with good visibility, charging her machine after Tessa’s. Her movements were more violent now, like a cat transformed into a tiger, as she gained more and more ground on Tessa’s M6. Get ready, baby... she thought. Her plan was to seize the opponent by the head and land a rifle shot at point-blank range. Then Sousuke couldn’t give her any more excuses.
She’s finally after me, thought Tessa, her face tensed with fear as she looked at the screen.
Her breathing was heavy, and her face was covered in sweat. Just walking on the uneven terrain was bone-breaking work, but she knew she had to be faster. No, I have to run! Just keep your opponent’s position in mind as you follow the course you laid out in advance. Navigate the obstacles, and... If she tripped, it would be game over. It would take her close to a minute to stand up again. Don’t fall over. You can’t afford to. If you trip, you lose...
“Hahh... hahh...” Tessa’s nerves were frayed from all the stimuli around her. She felt like her head was going to explode. The cockpit was stuffy, hot, nauseating. Her machine jerked back and forth with every step, threatening to tear her eyeballs out of her skull. She hadn’t known AS combat could be this intense. She wondered, How do the operators do this time and time again?
The same alarm she’d heard several times already rang out again, with a sharp pop! as another paintball exploded at close range. It was a paintball from Mao, and was immediately followed by another.
None of the shots were direct hits, but Tessa could feel them driving her to her wits’ end. She froze up in shock for just a moment, then felt her machine begin to tilt—but she grabbed a nearby tree and steadied herself just before disaster struck. A shock wave shot through the cockpit, hard enough to jerk her body around. Her neck hurt. So did her knees, her elbows, her butt...
“Hahh... ahh...”
What if these were live rounds? I’d be dead several times over, wouldn’t I? Yet she’s always in places like this... No, much worse places... She’s amazing. She’s a woman like me... But she’s on a whole other level... I can’t beat her, Tessa realized. I just... can’t beat her!
“Colonel, you’re slowing down. You must remain calm and keep moving,” Sousuke said over the radio, almost like an impromptu AI.
“I... I know. But...”
“It’s all right. You can do this,” he promised her. “I guarantee it.”
“Right!” she gritted her teeth and took off running again. When Tessa would look back on this day later, she would realize the inexpressible degree to which those words had empowered her. She was almost at her goal. Almost...
Meanwhile, Mao was feeling slightly impressed. “She’s faster than I expected.”
Tessa’s M6 had toddled along at first, but was gradually starting to pick up speed. Mao had genuinely tried to hit her once... and it was still a big miss. A big part of that was luck, of course, but she was nevertheless doing very well. Still, the match was almost over. Mao’s machine was a mere two hundred meters from Tessa’s. If she could get just a little closer, Tessa wouldn’t be able to use the trees as shields any longer.
“Okay. Time to end this,” she whispered.
And then, something strange happened. Tessa’s machine, running desperately towards the sun setting in the west, vanished.
“Eh?” Mao asked.
《Alpha-1 lost,》 her AI reported.
The backlighting had certainly made Tessa’s machine difficult to make out. But to disappear that abruptly? Mao couldn’t spot any trees in the area thick enough for it to hide behind. No other sufficient natural features, either...
“What kind of trick is she pulling?” Mao asked herself. Doesn’t seem like ECS... The M6 doesn’t have an invisibility mode, anyway. Mao stopped her machine and carefully activated her counter-sensor, the ECCS. Short-distance wide-band impulse radar waves combed the area from which Tessa had disappeared, searching for signs of electromagnetic camouflage.
Nothing.
She activated her high-sensitivity microphone.
Nothing. No sound of the generator, even. Tessa must have shut down the engine.
And because she was facing the sun, her own infrared sensor was useless. What in the world? Mao wondered. Guess she’s set a trap of some kind... But of course, Tessa’s smart. She wouldn’t call me out here without some kind of plan...
Mao proceeded cautiously with her M9, hearing the all-too-loud crackle of breaking branches as she went along. The hunter is at a disadvantage in a situation like this, she thought. Time to really get serious. “Let your guard down and you’ll lose...” That’s what my nose is telling me.
She was on her utmost guard. All her focus was in play. In other words, Mao had gotten serious. Was this Sousuke’s idea, too? she thought suspiciously. Either way, it’s impressive. You did well. You really did. But...
Mao pointed her rifle’s barrel at the ground a bit ahead of her; she’d found Tessa. There was a hole just ahead, designed to be difficult to make out from her position, but it was there, dug in advance, and large enough to fit an entire AS. Tessa’s M6 was hiding inside. She’d likely dug it out the night before.
Lure me out here, bunker down, then snipe me when I get close... That’s her plan. Simple, but clever, to use the dense forest and backlighting against me... If I’d been a little more careless, I might’ve fallen for it, Mao realized. I only just barely noticed it because of the unnatural layout of the forest vegetation... Smart camouflage. Still, it wasn’t enough to fool a veteran like Mao. Tessa’s tenacity was admirable, but the game was over now. Though I do feel bad for her...
Mao made her M9 leap to the hole. In her screen’s reticle, she could see Tessa’s machine, rifle pointed back at her. “It’s no use...” But just as Mao attempted to pull the trigger, a powerful light appeared under the M9.
Mao drew back in shock. Her machine had been caught up in one of the base’s extremely powerful strobe lights, now installed inside the hole. Powerful enough to blind someone who looked directly into it, the light rendered all the M9’s sensors blank for a split second.
Mao was left unable to keep her balance, let alone fire. Her machine toppled to the left and hit the ground as a powerful impact ran through her.
“Ngh!” She quickly adjusted her sensors’ light sensitivity to restore her vision. But finding it too slow to wait out, she tried to sit her machine up. And as she looked...
On the screen just ahead, leaning out of the hole overflowing with light, was Tessa’s M6, holding its rifle.
She was a mere twenty meters away.
I’ve got her. It worked! Tessa told herself. She hadn’t been positive her two-stage plan would be enough to take Mao down, but it seemed that God had been on her side.
Tessa, in a frenzy, turned her rifle towards Mao’s M9, which was struggling to stand. As the enemy machine entered her sight, she heard an alarm ring out in her cockpit. Target locked. Fire! it seemed to say.
“Hit!” she commanded it internally, pulling the trigger in response. It was set to fully automatic fire, and a blue mist quickly exploded in front of her. Tessa’s breath heaved, eyes locked straight forward. She pulled the trigger again and again, until it finally registered that she was out of ammo.
The mist faded, and... she could see the gray M9, now stained in blue, hit directly by fourteen paintballs.
●
“I lost. I admit it. I’m not gonna whine about it,” Mao said, slumping as she got down from her M9. “I’m not gonna complain that setting a trap in advance is cheating, or that the referee was biased, or that using a strobe light from the base is pretty damn dicey. I’m not gonna complain that you were all on Tessa’s side, while I was off on my own. And I’m not gonna insist that if this were a real battle, I definitely would’ve won.”
“Sounds a little like whining to me,” Kurz said with a frown.
“Let this be a lesson: overconfidence is a killer,” Sousuke declared with unearned wisdom.
“Yeah. Overconfidence is a killer. Heh. Yeah. Sheesh... What in the world am I doing? Boy oh boy... good grief. Whew...” Mao slumped down onto the ground, looking as defeated as Sousuke had ever seen her.
The M6 finally arrived back at Twin Rock. Tessa timidly climbed down, soaked from head to toe with sweat. “Melissa...” she said, tottering up to Mao’s side, no air of triumph about her. Her eyes were glassy, and it didn’t even seem like she’d realized she’d won.
Tessa and Mao regarded each other silently, and Sousuke remained tense in anticipation of restored hostilities.
At last, Mao opened her mouth. She spoke haltingly. “I’m sorry... for the nasty stuff I said.”
Tessa said nothing.
“You worked really hard. Hats off to you.”
Then, five seconds later... tears began to spill from Tessa’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I... I...” Tessa grabbed Mao tightly, her voice cracking. “I’m the one who’s been awful! I just got so angry... I just wanted you to acknowledge me. And I got stubborn and did this stupid thing... I’m so sorry.” Tessa sniffled and sobbed and buried her face in Mao’s chest.
Mao patted her head in a motherly fashion. “No, I’m glad I lost. This is the way it should be, I think. But let this be the end of it, okay?”
“Yes... I’ve had more than enough of ASes...” Tessa sniffled.
Mao sniffled, too. “You really are adorable.”
“Please, don’t say that...”
They seemed to have made up.
“Um, so what about the naked lap around the base?” Kurz asked hesitantly, eyes shining.
Noticing him at last, Mao and Tessa spoke with eerie synchronicity. “Creep,” they whispered.
Then the two girls began doting on each other like nobody was watching, as Sousuke and Kurz just stared.
“How... strange,” Sousuke observed.
“Yeah,” Kurz agreed. “Feels like they could’ve just done this from the start, right?”
Sousuke and Kurz looked up at the two ASes, covered in paint and mud. Both machines looked a bit slumped, as if embarrassed about the situation they found themselves in.
“If I ever end up in a fight with a superior, maybe I’ll try the same thing...”
“What do you mean?”
Kurz suddenly grabbed Sousuke’s arm and began to speak in an eerily coaxing voice. “I’m sorry! I... I...”
Sousuke stared at him in silence.
“I just wanted you to acknowledge me, Sousuke! And I got stubborn and... What?” Kurz’s voice abruptly returned to normal as he slid away from Sousuke. “You were planning to shoot me just now, weren’t you?”
“I’m impressed you could tell,” Sousuke said with ice-cold calm.
About six kilometers from Twin Rock, in the base’s communications center...
“It appears to have all been resolved,” said Major Kalinin. The small monitor he’d been watching displayed a real-time video and sound feed from Mao’s M9. He’d ordered Kurz Weber to fiddle around with the machine’s electronics to let him do it, but they were the only ones who knew.
“She constantly surprises me,” said Lieutenant Colonel Mardukas, who had watched the whole thing live with Kalinin. “I didn’t expect her to win through sheer skill. She has a certain inevitable something that mere luck cannot fully account for, don’t you think?”
“It’s difficult to say for sure,” Major Kalinin said thoughtfully. “This was simply a game, after all. Different qualities come out when one’s life is on the line.”
“Perhaps,” Mardukas said gravely after a small, thoughtful hum. “But really... what will we do with the colonel? I can look the other way when it comes to her using machines for personal use, but she shows too little respect for her health. Wasting the time she should have spent resting on playing these violent games... I’ll have to speak with her tomorrow.”
“No need for that,” Kalinin said lightly.
“Why not?”
“Look at her face.”
Mardukas turned his eyes to the monitor, frowning. In the middle of the screen was Tessa’s beaming smile. Her face was aglow with sweat and dried tears, pleasant exhaustion and satisfied accomplishment. She always hid it behind an air of sophistication, but she really was a girl overflowing with vitality.
“I see,” Mardukas said, his dour expression unchanging. “She really has been restored. My gratitude to your subordinates.”
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