Marida Cruz was pushed hard by the back, and nearly fell as she barely managed to stand upright. The door was then closed, and the loud sound rang behind her.
There was darkness all around her. From the echo, she knew that she was in a rather wide place. Marida Cruz was not so reckless as to make a careless move, and she first closed her eyes, took a deep breath, let her eyes get used to the darkness, and scanned the place. There were no windows or anything similar inside this room, and she could see that there was a firefighting installation lamp. It was dark and hard to tell, but the ceiling was shockingly high. Is this a mobile suit hangar? The moment she thought about that, the handcuffs locking her hands let out a slight sound, and she felt them fall off.
(Ple Twelve)
The handcuffs that were remotely removed dropped onto the floor, and a woman’s voice rang through the darkness. Marida’s body jerked as she used her sight to track the source of this sound.
(That is your name, right? Answer me. You should obey your master’s instructions.)
The voice that echoed throughout was mixed in with the darkness, striking Marida’s heart and soul. Is this a new kind of experiment? Marida recalled the checks she went through for the past 10 days as her body and even her mind were cruelly investigated, and she inadvertently clenched her fists that were free. The continued use of drugs in the experiments caused her head to hurt, but she felt that her body had recovered to the point of adapting to the 1G gravity. She was only wearing a thin surgical tunic, but her movements were rather unrestrained.
If they had any intent to check on her body functions, it would not be a bad idea for her to move as much as possible and treat it as rehabilitation. Marida exerted strength on her legs that might turn limp if she relaxed, “You’re not my master.” and answered with a calm voice. At that moment, there was a flash that came from the front, seemingly with a voice, and her sights were dyed completely white.
Marida inadvertently raised her hands to block and narrowed her eyes to stare at the source of light. Her vision that recovered several times faster than an ordinary person showed two silhouettes with their backs facing the light. She could see the silhouette of a woman and a short stocky man with the many lightings instruments behind them, walking towards her. Is the man Alberto Vist? Marida thought secretly as she stared at the duo that were undefended, not wielding handguns or tasers, and her body froze as she took the stare that was several times more intense.
The woman’s blond hair looked rather dazzling with the light against her, and she stared right at Marida. “It’s dangerous.” Alberto said as he tugged at the woman by the sleeve, “It’s fine.” but was shaken aside by the woman who answered this. Her feet that were wearing the high-heeled shoes stood about 3m away from Marida.
“This girl can’t protect herself on her own without her master’s instructions.”
Just like what she heard at first, that voice with a heavy pressure surrounded Marida. The woman did not look away from her as her lips that had lipstick on curled up, saying, “Isn’t that right?”
“If that’s not the case, it’s impossible for her to be tortured till such an inhumane state, and she can possibly escape whenever she wants to, right?”
The woman lowered her stare at Marida’s stomach, her pale and skinny face showing no signs of pity. If the woman had read through the results of the checks, she would definitely know that Marida’s body was “incomplete” in some sense. At that moment, Marida deeply felt the humiliation that caused her body to tremble, but she immediately turned her lips into a smile, “It seems that I’m being misunderstood here.” and said to the woman with a restrained tone,
“I am a Neo Zeon officer now. I have a duty to protect myself as a soldier. I don’t need a master to instruct me.”
“I can choose to take you as a hostage and escape from this disgusting experimental facility.” Marida expressed this meaning with silence as she darted her eyes to look at the dark space in front of her that looked like a hangar. “Impressive.” The woman answered as she gave Marida an unwavering stare.
“But you sure are pitiful, having to come up with such a reason to protect yourself.”
“Pitiful…?”
“That’s because you’re trapped by the logic of men. Don’t you feel that we women should live more freely?”
The testing eyes of the woman relaxed slightly, and she smiled as she stepped towards Marida, who inadvertently backed away.
She was similar to the people Marida saw in the filthy Red Light district filled with sour stench—and she definitely could not allow herself to let her guard down against these people who would smile in such a way. They would first let the other party relax before going rough. Marida was able to sense the fear almost instinctively, and she gathered her concentration on the woman’s actions under her emotions. However, “I am Martha Vist Carbine.” the voice rang, shocking her.
“I’m not a soldier, and I’m not a researcher here. There’s something I want to ask of you.”
The woman’s tone was different from before as it had a business-like flair. She reached her hand forward, and Alberto, who waited on standby like a shadow, approached her, and handed the notepad terminal over. Then, the woman who called herself Martha showed what she was doing. There was a 3-panel display of a mobile suit, and Marida’s stare was fixated on the display before she could even think.
It was the silhouette of a Federation-styled machine; and the head that formed its features and the unique structure of this machine were even more unmistakable to Marida. “This is…” Marida gasped as she saw this, and Martha did not look away from her once as she said with a hard and stern voice, “We call it the “Banshee”.”
“I hope that you’ll become its pilot.”
The face that spoke was vastly different from those of the residents in the Red Light district, and looked like a powerful elite who had established her authority. Marida could not believe her instincts at first, and looked cautiously at Martha.
“I suppose you understand very well that this isn’t a machine that a pilot can use. Only a completed Cyber-Newtype like you will be able to accomplish this, and you can definitely fulfill its capabilities to 100%...or even more.”
Martha closed the terminal and handed it over to Alberto behind her. Marida felt an intimidating chill from the determined look deep within the cold light in her expression.
“The problem is that you are too complete, and it’s hard for us to carry out adjustments on you. However, I feel that a pilot like this is able to become the pilot of the “Banshee”. It is not in my interest to put in a puppet whose memories can be swapped easily. What I want is…”
The skin of a powerful elite was shed away, and Martha again showed a smile that was hard to comprehend. What exactly is with this woman? Marida’s face felt a chill as she saw the finger that was as thin as a lath approach her, and she forcefully waved it aside.
“I said that I’m a Neo Zeon officer. There’s no reason for me to help you.”
“That’s just you trying to convince yourself that. Your soul actually wants to fly somewhere else…”
“Even so, I don’t want to fly in the place you provide. You might as well readjust me or interrogate me if you want me to help you.”
This woman is dangerous. Marida was able to sense this as she felt an irritating poison on her that would spread to everyone related to her. “Y, you, you should watch your mouth there…” Marida immediately gave an antagonistic look at Martha while ignoring Alberto who said this with an agitated voice. At that moment, the smile disappeared off Martha’s face, and she bellowed, “You shut up!”
Alberto’s silhouette could be seen with the backlight, his shoulders trembling. At the next moment, Martha’s expression then broke into a smile as she stared at Alberto that said, “you should understand, right?”
“This is a conversation between women. We have to listen to what she has to say, right?”
Martha’s stared at Alberto and his outstretched arm, and patted down his abdomen to the lower abdomen. This alone cause Alberto’s strength to be sucked away from Martha, and as he cringed like a dog with its tail between its legs, Marida immediately looked away from them.
Their relationship was not just that of superior and subordinate, and they were not just relatives. Marida could sense some sort of twisted rotten presence of a man and a woman—and Martha quickly shot a heinous stare over that was about to pierce her, causing her to look in front in shock.
“This girl’s instincts as a woman are enhanced too? What a troublesome woman…!”
Even though you’re just a created being. Martha gave such an unexpected tone from her expression and raised her right hand above her head. The hand that was raised did not swing down at her as this time, the lights in front of Marida went out, and the ones at the back lit up the dark and dim hangar. The object that was shrouded in darkness appeared in front of Marida’s eyes, causing her to be unable to breath for a few seconds.
The indigo colored machine that looked like a gathering of darkness had its limbs lying weakly, and it had a wrecked monoeye and a burnt black head. It was definitely a mobile suit, but the curved profile clearly indicated that it was not a Federation mobile suit. The two elegant flower-like large binders on its shoulders and the refined profile on the front end of their toes were part of a product of civilization not created under Earth’s gravity—what would be called the embodiment of Zeonism appeared right in front of her eyes. After the war, the Zeon remnants that escaped to the asteroid belt built this machine to preserve their memories of their country. In a way, it could be viewed as a symbol of Zeon. There was paranoia and nostalgia in this abnormally shaped machine…
“This is the mass-produced “Qubeley”, a machine all of you piloted.”
Martha said. Marida’s heart beat her chest wildly, and she was unable to breathe easily as she clutched onto her tunic.
That’s right, that’s the machine I, we rode on. It can be considered part of our bodies, and it should have been destroyed with my sisters, so why did it appear here? Whose machine was it? Marida felt puzzled. The machine serial number on the left torso was burnt black and unidentifiable , and the serial number at the legs could not be seen as they were blocked by the shadow of the toes. The binders on its shoulders were sagging weakly, and the giant leaned on the wall as it slumped down. Marida carefully examined the giant, and her sights were laid on the cockpit hatch. She stared right at it, not moving at all. The force of the explosion was enough to cause the hatch to explode, but the ejection pod showed no signs of shooting out. The machine did not take a direct hit, and the dim cockpit that was opened looked completely intact. Maybe there might be other survivors—
Suddenly, she felt goosebumps, and there was a sense of disgust rising up in her. Impossible. Her body that was crying this out started to tremble wildly, and she hurriedly looked away from the machine in front of her. She did not know why her body showed such a rejection that was so strong she could not believe it. Perhaps there was some other lifeform like her existing on this world, and for some reason, Marida felt disgusted by this biologically.
It felt like a nightmare becoming reality. As she was driven by this suffocating fear, she subconsciously backed off. No, I won’t be able to remain as myself if I stay here. I have to leave this place as far as possible. I have to hurry and get away from here. She thought.
“Look closely.”
Marida got grabbed by the arm, and her body that was being forcefully dragged entered Martha’s clutches, and her chin was held as she was forced to face the machine.
“That’s how you look. You’re still inside the cockpit of that machine. Even if you want to act as the human called Marida Cruz, your soul is still imprisoned in there.”
The dark opening of the cockpit entered her eyes, but she was unable to close them. She could shake the hand off if she wanted to, but her body could not exert strength at all. Stop it! Her own intent was unable to become a voice, and she could only face her separate identity helplessly.
“Do you know why that’s so? That’s because you’re a product of men’s logic. You were created by men, who only know how to fight until their heads bleed, as a tool of war. You’re created from a woman’s womb, so don’t you find it unnatural?”
Marida was sweating, and her heart was beating faster. That’s right, I’m just a tool. Once I lost my purpose for battle, I could only be used to satisfy men’s lusts there was a thought that brewed in her body, shocking her so badly that she started to twist and struggle. Martha’s hand however remained unmoved as her thin fingertips that were pressing Marida’s face spread their icy body temperature onto her.
“But no matter the origin, it doesn’t matter. You do exist as yourself after all, and there’s no need for you to restrain yourself to fulfill men’s logic. Let me bring you out of that machine.”
Martha’s icy cold fingertips went down from the face to the throat, and then stroked past the curves in front of the chest. Marida felt like her strength was sapped away completely as she tried her best to stand straight.
“The world outside is interesting too. There won’t be anything that will restrain you, and you can use your own strength freely. As long as I have this strength of yours, it will be possible to restructure this world. Come with me. Let’s walk out of this dark place and save this world that follows men’s logic and is heading to its doom .”
The lips that broke into a smile curled up, and Martha showed a grudging look in her gloomy eyes. The “Qubeley” that had its monoeye blown off overlapped with her face, and Marida could not help but let out a voiceless scream.
The club for the tee shot swung down, and the unique sound of a hard ball gliding through the wind as it passed through the sky highly. The ball that was sent flying flew above the fairway entered the blue sky, and the eyes could not find it.
To an outsider, this shot was nicely hit, and there was a little applause from the crowd. The man understood that this should be a form of etiquette, but he did not understand golf at all, and he had no intent of mixing around with the crowd just like that. Bright Noa stared at the back of the man, Ronan Marcenas, standing at the tee ground, who picked up the tee and handed the club to his caddy. Ronan seemed to notice Bright’s stare as he exchanged some words with the elderly man at the tee ground and showed a smile while keeping a sharp look on Bright.
“This way, please.”
Patrick Marcenas, who was standing beside Ronan, seemed to notice his intent and whispered. Once he heard the news from the Senate Council, the son-in-law went right to the dock at Sasebo to welcome Bright, not forgetting to introduce himself as the public secretary as he led the other man as someone working behind the scenes. Bright understood that Patrick was showing respect to him, and he did not show any signs of actual contempt under his polite and attentive appearance, but he felt uneasy about this overly exaggerated method that was used. Leaving aside this, there was also no reason why he had to meet Ronan, let alone wait for him on a golf course.
Ronan, who was wearing a pink polo shirt and a visor, withdrew himself from his golf buddies and sat on the passenger seat of the cart. With the overly serious look from Patrick behind, Bright walked towards the man, and adjusted the tie he was unused to wearing. He continued to remain still, partly to annoy. Ronan stared at the dazzling greenery on the course, “Sorry to make you come all the way here.” and spoke up first.
“I wanted to invite you to our house, but unfortunately, the outside world is sticking its eyes too tightly on us.”
“No…what would you, as the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council, have with a soldier like me?”
Bright restrained his tone, but still expressed his intent. Ronan moved his face slightly and gave a sharp probing look on the other man. “You don’t play this?” after asking that, he turned his sights to the wide golf course.
“This isn’t popular in space.”
Bright felt that his answer was not appropriate, but he had nothing else to answer. At that moment, the sound of the wind could be heard as the next player swung the next shot, and Ronan applauded courteously as he said with a wry look, “You’re really an honest man!”
“It’s good to know that you’re a man just like what they said, but at this point, I really have to ask you to play along for now. I hope that you’ll call me as if you’re familiar with me. The car’s waiting at the clubhouse.”
The sharp glance briefly showed the majesty Ronan had as a heavyweight politician, as he then showed a casual smile as he got up from the golf cart. At that moment, his fat body swayed slightly as he nearly tumbled onto the ground with his knee. Bright wanted to reach out his arm to help, only to see Ronan’s fat face look right back at him and wink with a smile. Having understood that the ‘skit’ had started, he frowned. “What’s wrong?” the other players asked as they showed their concern.
“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve not been feeling well this morning.”
“That won’t do. Do you want to head back first?”
“I guess, since I managed to pull quite a lead in the last round…”
With the caddy supporting him, Ronan sat on the golf cart. Bright did not look at the back of the man as he exchanged looks with Patrick, did not look at the other players who seemed like influential figures as he left the tee ground.
There was an impressive looking clubhouse after they went by the lush green carpet of the 7th hole. To soldiers, who did not have much hope in standing out, there were not many chances for them to walk amidst Mother Nature, let alone step onto a member-only golf course. Bright refused to sit on the cart together with Patrick, who invited him on, and decided to walk to the clubhouse as Ronan, who would reach back earlier, would need some time to change clothing. Since there were eyes from the ‘outside world’ watching, Bright determined that it would be best if they did not move at the same time.
Bright was invited to ride on the private jet at the Sasebo factory located in the Eastern half of Asia, and more than 6 hours passed before he reached the golf course in Atlanta on North America. The radiating and dazzling light that was shining down here gave a sense of appropriate greenery, and it felt completely different from the light humid air in the Far East. The green fields on the golf course were lined up neatly like how it was in a colony, but they did not give the feeling that they were able to hide the climate of the landscape. This lifeforce that could not be restrained was Earth’s characteristic, and as Bright understood that he was amongst this, his unhappiness over being summoned here out of a sudden was more or less quelled. Thinking back, he realized that he had been moving between the dark ship bridge and the docks ever since he came to Earth, and did not manage to walk under the sun properly for once. He viewed this as a temporary solace; that it was not a bad idea to bask in the forest of a high-class golf course. To him, who was in the latter half of the 30s, a lack of exercise was an issue he could not take lightly.
But once he takes a step out of this place, he would have no choice but to understand the intention why Ronan summoned him. As the commander of the independent force Londo Bell, the politicians would view him as a pawn that could be summoned easily. Since the other party had arranged this private meeting through a minister of the General Staff, there had to be some reason why the other party took the trouble to look for him. The situation was such that they had to keep it a secret from the media and even the stares from the government—either way, he hoped not to be ferried to the Marcenas mansion forcefully by being stuffed into the trunk. As he played around with this imagination that could not be considered a joke, he strolled past the turf that was mysteriously trimmed neatly. The strong sunlight of Southern USA caused his head, which was still not used to the jet lag, to hurt somewhat.
At this time, there were quite a few ships equipped with Minovsky Particle Engines. An I-field was a forcefield that was created through the Minovsky Particles that were formed by the engines, and the Spacecraft had an I-field that covered the bottom of the ship, lifting the Minovsky Craft through the recoil caused by the conductive material. All spacecrafts could operate within the atmosphere through this product of Minovsky physics. In other words, the era of ‘space battleships’ flying in the skies of Earth had come.
However, except for a minority, those spacecrafts lacked the ability to return back to earth. Even if they could use the Ballute to enter Earth, they could not leave the gravity field with their own thrusters and enter space again. That would be due to the insufficient output from a Minovsky Craft. Once it landed onto, it would require an external force like a booster or a mass driver to send it back into space. As they resembled the Earth orbital fleet, operation flexibility and costs were issues that were commonly deemed necessary for improvement as soon as possible.
In the end, there was a short-term goal to develop low input high output Minovsky crafts that was basically achieved the previous year. This engine that was the basis for the new generation was first installed on the flagship of Londo Bell, “Ra Cailum”, and was to be tested under gravitational conditions. The commander of this ship was also the commander of Londo Bell, Captain Bright Noa, and most likely, Bright’s personal experiences played a part in his nomination. During the One Year War, there was a spacecraft with a Minovsky craft on it that had the ability to return to Earth. It was one of the few exceptions— the Pegasus-class assault landing carrier “White Base”, and after the war, this ship was hailed as a symbol of the Federation army’s victory, and under such conditions, Bright was promoted to Captain.
A young man who was almost 20 years old was made a candidate officer due to the circumstances of battle, was ordered to command the first mobile suit mothership that Federation had, and finally became a crucial member of the final counterattack. These heroic exploits highlighted the end of the great War, but to him, this was simply a result of coincidence. It was coincidence that the port was attacked by the Zeon forces, that all the important crew members, including the captain, were killed; it was also coincidence that he led a few lucky survivors, some refugee civilians inside the ship, but were able to break through the enemy forces as a single ship and attracted the attention of the Zeon army; and it was a coincidence amongst coincidences that the prototype mobile suit that was recently completed at that time, the RX 78-2 “Gundam” was able to create astounding accomplishments, to a point that the entire Zeon army called it the “White Devil”. Without these coincidences, the High Command of the Federation military would not have set their eyes on “White Base”, and Bright would most probably be deployed to other positions. If he was not forced to lead the ship alone as bait, he would not have ended up being a crucial figure in the final battle, and the responsibility that rested on him at this point would naturally belong to someone else.
But in fact, the reputation of “White Base” had spread throughout the land. The ex-captain was nominated for this experiment because the mass-production plan of new Minovsky crafts with equivalent capabilities was began. Thus, Bright secretly wondered that his life was controlled by the coincidence that happened 17 years ago, as a man like Ronan caught sight of him and invited him to his private residence to talk. He was not stuffed into the trunk, but he held his breath for almost an hour in the limousine that had tinted glass on it. He walked through the doors of the Marcenas’ residence, and finally met Ronan face to face with the afternoon sun shining into the office. Patrick waited for a short while before heading back to the election firm, and nobody else came in after the old butler served tea. The atmosphere in the office that had the flair of long history this political family had felt really heavy with only 2 people, pressing down on his mind and body that had no affinity for politics.
However, the greenery of trees that could be seen through the windows were stunning, and Bright could only concern himself with looking outside the window before Ronan sat down on the sofa opposite. The verdant forest that surrounded the mansion was different from the thoroughly protected greenery of a golf course, radiating a charm that seemed like it would swallow the entire land fully if it was left alone. Bright recalled that his wife once mentioned that the sunlight had its own flavor. There was light shining inside the colony, reflected off mirrors, but they did not have any flavor. In contrast, one could smell the unique flavor the sunlight had on Earth, and she did mention that it was a presence even science could not determine that Earth became a nursery of life. No matter how they recreated an environment similar to Earth, it would be impossible for them to create Life even after a billion years—
“Your son is studying Botany in High School, right?”
It seemed that Ronan detected Bright’s feelings as he sat down on the sofa in the office and spoke up. Feeling somewhat panicky in his heart, Bright turned his eyes to the front and answered, “Yes, you do know.” as he seemed like he was stumped for words.
“I sent someone to investigate before. This stretch still has some vegetation that was from the old centuries. If you’re interested, you can bring him along here. I can recommend a job for him if he has any intent to become a vegetation inspector.”
Ronan’s stare showed no other intent, but these words clearly showed the clear disparity in identities between them unconditionally. Bright sensed that the other man was really intending to pull him over, and answered back with a cautious voice “Hm…”
“You have a daughter at home as well. Your wife was the former steering operator of “White Base”, and I heard that she’s a direct relative of the president of Yashima heavy duty Company.”
“That was all the in the past as she gave up on the right to take over.”
Bright’s tone sounded like he wanted to interrupt, and seemed to clearly show Ronan that he had an overly clean life. Ronan gave a wry smile and continued, “If we mention about your exploits, Captain, you were made the commander of “White Base” at a young age, and became the captain of a military shuttle later on. During the Gryps Conflict, you joined the Anti-Earth Union Group and clashed against the infamous Titans numerous times. Your name had spread far and wide during the 2 Neo Zeon Wars, and now you’re the commander of Londo Bell…I never expected you to have no ambitions for politics even though you have such talent.”
“Talent?”
“Looking at your experience and popularity, Captain, the public and organizations will embrace you. No matter how dire the area is, you will definitely be elected as long as our political party is supporting from behind.”
Ronan showed a smile and closed his mouth for the time being. Bright did not expect the other man to flatter him, and could only take a sip of red tea.
“Even though that kind of response from you is worthy of recognition…well, that’s good. It’s because you’re such a person that I want to request something out of you.”
Ronan opened the document file beside him and handed it over. Looks like we’re getting straight to the point now, Bright thought as he briefly browsed through the file that was not considered thick.
It seemed to be the data of a space merchant ship the ship management authority had, and it contained the specifics of the shipping company. There were photos of its registration that were submitted, some battlefields, and what looked like a photo of the ship in question rushing into the atmosphere included inside. It was hard to tell, but one could see something like a mobile suit on the red-hot ship body.
“This is a disguised merchant ship of the “Sleeves”. It landed on Earth approximately 10 days ago.”
Ronan said, and Bright looked back at the photo of the merchant ship called the “Garencieres”.
“Currently, the army, navy and air force are all searching for it. I hope that your ship can join in their search.”
The test-ship “Ra Cailum” did not receive any orders to mobilize, but Bright had already heard from the Senate Council of the news about Federation army fighting against Neo Zeon in a skirmish, causing the relic of “Laplace” to be destroyed. Bright could not help but lift his head, but could only hold in his words and shut his mouth the moment he heard Ronan continue, “I have another condition.”
“I hope that you can find it faster than any other squads searching for it and act according to my orders. Of course, I will try my best to allow you to move as and when you please, and I’ll send any information I get to you first.”
“In other words, you want to use the “Ra Cailum” for your personal use?”
This is ridiculous. You’re basically acting like a warlord here. Bright did not restrain the disgust he had immediately as he put the closed file onto the table. Ronan then narrowed his eyes, “I heard that when Earth is in crisis, Londo Bell is a squad that can make decisions on its own and take action.” and immediately continued to say.
“I hope you can understand that now is the moment. This is an operation we have to hide from the internal government, and I can’t leave it to an officer who might mistake this as a military duty for promotions.”
“I’m really troubled that you overrate me as such. I’m just someone who stepped onto an unorthodox path coincidentally, and in fact—”
“that’s because you’re the commander of a Newtype squad, and as a soldier, this title caused you to be looked over based on pragmatic reasons. Am I right?”
These words passed through Bright’s chest, and Ronan’s stare at him felt exceptionally sharp. Bright could not answer immediately as he secretly clenched the fists on his knees tightly.
“The names of the “Gundam” and “White Base” are still well known today. After that, you became the captain of the Gundam-type mobile suits mother ships, so it is not inconceivable for the Federation to think that you’re the commander of a Newtype squad. You are reliable, but looking at your nature, you are a double-edged sword that can form a threat to the Federation…that’s most likely what the Senate Council appraise you as, that if not used well, you might end up hurting them, and it might not be an exaggeration to say that you’re similar to a nuclear weapon.”
“A nuclear weapon, is it…?”
Bright could not help but give a wry look the moment he heard this exaggerated description of him. If “Gundam” pilots through many generations who had Newtype abilities could be seen as a coincidence, it would be a coincidence that he was in charge of him. But no matter how much he tried to explain, he could not overturn the results that were public to the world, and he could not gain Ronan’s agreement. This experience was something he clearly understood.
Most importantly, Ronan was clearly hoping that he, who separated himself from worldly affairs, would be on the same page, “If you show too much of your abilities, you’ll end up inviting disaster, and your situation is an example of this.” Bright could hear some form of compassion from his tone as he stared at the face of this politician in front of him.
“If you’re willing, I can recommend you to Central…but I won’t bother saying such opportunistic words since you most probably won’t wish for it. However, the problems caused by this disguised merchant ship have something to do with “Industrial 7” and “Palau”. As the commander of Londo Bell, I suppose you’ll be concerned about the safety of the “Nahel Argama”, right?
The moment Bright looked forward, a powerful hit struck him hard. The “Nahel Argama” itself was entrusted a mission from the Senate Council, and its whereabouts were a mystery to its original affiliation, Londo Bell. Even as Bright questioned the current situation, the Council would only say that all details were classified and would not reveal their whereabouts. The High Council too remained silent of this, and any attempts to gather information through the political route were completely useless. The situation was suspicious enough for him to catch that something was amiss, and he wondered if the ship had anything to do with the recent terrorist attacks, but Ronan told him that everything he thought had enough was true.
I see, so this is what he’s planning. Bright himself noticed him he was completely baited as he glared over. Ronan however did not mind as he continued with a calm tone, emphasizing, “Since I don’t want to feel that I’m using a hostage on you, I’ll tell you everything.”
“The “Nahel Argama” is delayed on Earth’s orbit, and it’s something the Vist Foundation pulled through the Senate Council. Have you heard of the Vist Foundation?”
“I did hear of rumors…”
“They’re also looking for where the disguised ship is. If we can find this disguised ship first, we’ll be able to have an advantage over the Vist Foundation. This will not only ensure that the “Nahel Argama” can return to its original squad, but also clear out all the cadres in the Senate Council who are allies of the Foundation. Only a soldier like you can carry out this kind of work. Do you understand what I mind?”
“I do understand that this is a chance to reverse the fortunes…but what’s the problem with that disguised ship?”
“The “Laplace Box”.”
Ronan immediately lost his smile the moment he said these words. Bright swallowed the shocking words in his heart as he looked back at the face in front of him.
“That disguised ship has an item that was called as such. It’ll be best if we can ensure that item, and if there are difficulties, I hope that you destroy it. I allow any forms of actions taken for this aim.”
Ronan looked back at him, and his eyes that were not showing any glitter showed no doubts that he was not joking. Bright vaguely understood that this was not some bother that was saddled with for no reason, and looked away from Ronan.
The conservative sector of the Federation and the Vist Foundation had already ingrained themselves deeply inside the Senate Council, starting a secret battle over the “Laplace Box”. If he interfered, he would end up in this savage war of politics. While it was not difficult for him to apologize and refuse, how would he be able to bring back the “Nahel Argama” if he refused? He, as the commander of a non-mainstream force, was rather popular amongst the Defense Ministry Senators who were basically his employers, so if he made use of this relationship—no, the Vist Foundation would immediately know this and block his actions through some means. Politics was a profession based on building relations, and there were no politicians who did not owe others favors. If he started to interfere, the government would start to count favors, and his avenues of investigation would naturally fade out. Once a transaction happened while a soldier could not interfere, the truth would always be hidden.
Simply put, the “Nahel Argama” had treaded into a ditch, and he could not ensure the safety of the crew, let alone let them return. Am I to follow the political route I have no hope in, or do I approach this situation with the mindset of jumping into this ditch as well? Bright sensed that he could not make up his mind, and looked back at Ronan, who did a little guess through his eyes, lowered his head and said as he got up, “Oh yes, I have someone I want you to meet.”
Ronan took up the phone on the table and spoke into the receiver, “Call him in.” A few moments later, there was the sound of knocking as a young man walked into the room, shocking Ronan. He was not concerned about the deep grey officer uniform the young man was wearing, nor was he concerned about him standing with the cap tucked under his armpit, but that for some reason, the stiff-looking brown eyes gave a similar impression to that of Ronan’s.
There was an ensign lapel pin glittering below the boyish-looking face, indicating that he was recently assigned. “I’m Ensign Riddhe Marcenas.” The young man raised his hand to salute, and on hearing that, Bright recovered as he stood up to salute before looking over at Ronan. “As you expect, this is my incompetent son.” Ronan said this while giving a wry look, and soon looked away from that young man’s face as he sat down on the sofa again.
“You might think of it as spoiling my own son here, but can he ride on your ship? He’s actually a pilot of Londo Bell.”
The tense handsome young man did not look at his father as he merely stared at one point. At this mention, Bright remembered that he inadvertently heard from someone that the son of a Senate Council member was assigned to a squad in Londo Bell. He searched his memory, recalled the name of the squad he was assigned to, and hid the wavering in his heart as he stared at the boy’s face. “Ensign Riddhe…I remember you’re assigned to the “Nahel Argama”, right?” he asked as he glanced over at Ronan.
“Yes. I’m currently removed from the squad, and I’m now on standby.” Ronan ignored this answer from Ensign Riddhe as he showed a vague expression to Bright. Does he want his own son to check on me? Leaving aside how Riddhe managed to leave the “Nahel Argama” alone, Bright understood again that things were set up too perfectly, and endured the sign in him as he stare back at the ensign in front of him. The brown eyes were showing a form of tension different from nervousness as Riddhe too looked back at Bright’s face.
“We’re also testing the new model mobile suits. There’s no other mobile suit for a pilot on the “Ra Cailum” left, you know?”
“Don’t worry. The Senate Council sent a prototype mobile suit for me. If there’s space on the deck, please allow me to use it.”
Even the mobile suit is assigned? Bright could not even raise the strength to be impressed as he slumped back onto the sofa. He looked over at Ronan, who looked certain that he would not refuse, and could not help but sigh before looking up at Riddhe, who was standing upright. Riddhe was not looking down at a superior officer, which was considered a rude thing, as he continued to stare at a corner in a tense manner.
Riddhe was neither facing Bright nor his father. He looked like he was facing something as he desperately tried to stand upright. He looked so tense that he would collapse anytime, hiding the inner weakness within him—right, all the young men who piloted the “Gundams” over the previous generations had this expression. Bright swallowed this unnerving imagination together with the cold tea as he looked back at Ronan. The pillar clock rang, and the vague chime slowly stirred up the atmosphere inside the room.
And just like how it arrived, the limousine with the liquid smoke function on its side glass showed the appearance of the visitor in it as it passed through the main door. Mineva felt the tension engulfing the mansion ease up as she let out a soft sigh as she left the window.
Please do not leave this room during this time. It had been an hour since Dwiyon notified here in an apologetic manner, and though they were not so cautious as to lock up the door from the outside, it seemed from the number of men that were sent to patrol around that this visitor must be of some distinct background. Was he a soldier, a policeman, some official from a public security organization, or a politician? Either way, the person that arrived would definitely be someone who could recognize her if they met, and something that will definitely involve her was gradually running. At this point, Mineva realized that when she was wasting them, the people in this mansion were already taking action, not listening to her views as they followed the logic the Federation had.
I want to leave this place. No, I have to leave this place. This hazy anxiety in Mineva started to take shape, and she grabbed onto the chest of her blouse. She had a basic idea of where the security in this kind of mansion and the people patrolling outside were located. Though it was not impossible for her to leave, what should she do immediately afterwards? Even if she wanted to rely on her allies on Earth, she did not know how to make contact with them. Another issue she had to consider too was whether it was appropriate for her to approach the Neo Zeon camp. She knew that she would just be bringing about chaos, and yet she could not do anything—however, was there any other place that would accept her at this time?
It’s pointless to panic now. If I stay here, I’ll be able to meet the Central figures of the Federation. The logic that had been preventing Mineva from taking action for the past 10 days rose in her mind, but even so, as she refuted in her mind, the knocking echoed through the air inside the room, and Mineva raised her head.
She tidied herself and said with a calm voice, “Please enter.” She thought that Dwiyon would be the one telling her that she could head outside, but the one standing outside the door was an unexpected face. Why is it that you’re only showing up now? She could not restrain the grudging thoughts in her mind as she immediately turned her face away from the visitor.
“Sorry, can I come in?”
Riddhe looked like he understood Mineva’s expression as he asked with a stiff expression, forcing a smile. Mineva felt some apprehension in her heart as she saw this grey officer uniform she had not seen for a long time, “This is your house, you know”, and answered as she looked towards the window. She could not restrain her anxiety as she opened the window, letting the wind outside blow into the room. Riddhe walked into the room with a bitter expression that was plainly shown, and turned his hand behind to close the door.
“I have to return to my position in the army. I’ll leave the house tomorrow.”
The lace curtains that were swaying with the wind blocked Riddhe’s face that suddenly spoke up, and Mineva turned her silent stare to the other end.
“I’m assigned to the flagship of Londo Bell. More or less, I suppose I’ll be sent to Africa. This was what I talked about with the commander…”
He spoke in a vague tone, and after that, he lowered his face as his fists that were dangling beside his legs were clenched tightly. “I’m really sorry” he then added, and Mineva sighed secretly in her heart as she saw the body standing in front of her being the embodiment of helplessness.
“I’m the one who said such big words about bringing you here, but I can’t help in any way…but this is what I can do now.”
Riddhe finished with this unexpectedly forced tone as lifted his head. “What’s going on?” Mineva asked as she sensed that there was a surge in the atmosphere of the room.
“The Marcenas family and the Vist Foundation…are like two mirrors facing each other. I only learnt in the past few days that our family lived for so long through such a sorry manner…”
“Sorry…?”
“My family may use some despicable methods to prevent the “Laplace Box” from being revealed, even if it means using you as a hostage.”
Riddhe spoke up and turned his face away. Mineva felt some vague presence surrounding the room starting to take an actual shape, pressing down on her shoulders, and she turned her face towards Riddhe, unable to say anything.
That night, when Riddhe hugged her and bellowed, “I actually brought you to such an unthinkable place, the real meaning of the words he said was—
“To prevent that from happening, we have to get the “Box” before the Foundation or Neo Zeon, or destroy the key of the “Box”.”
“The key…the “Unicorn”?”
Mineva barely managed to swallow the name Banagher down her mouth as she spoke. Riddhe looked like he did not want to consider this issue as he looked away, not answering her doubts.
“So…can you become a member of our family?”
In contrast, Riddhe said this without turning around to look. Mineva did not understand what he was saying to her as she frowned.
“How about you abandon Zeon and the Zabi family, and become a member of the Marcenas family? In that case, my dad will—”
To Riddhe, the last words were probably something he did not expect. His eyelids twitched, and he seemed to recover as he went quiet and lowered his eyes that were once facing Mineva.
“…Even if it’s just a formality, this meaningless war will end like that, and you’ll be free.”
“Do you feel…that can be considered freedom?”
Mineva too lowered her sights, her heart feeling the sand-like bitterness. These words sounded too tragic to both the speaker and the listener, and even though they were just a few connected words, she could understand that her body and mind were gradually being contaminated. Something very important was starting to fall off, unable to be retrieved again—this kind of disappointment spread in her heart. Why must I stay here? Why did I come here? This feeling of wanting to cry out loud caused her to clench her fists tightly. Riddhe remained silent, unwilling to stare at Mineva’s eyes.
Standing over there was the Federation officer who convinced her to break the deadlock and come to Earth. He was a stranger who was indoctrinated with something, who understood something, and who spent the past several days destroying himself. Mineva had nothing to say to this stranger, and she felt helpless, like she was abandoned in the vacuum. The reason for her to continue remaining here had vanished completely. I have to leave this place before my body and mind are clouded—
“…How to put it? Well, I…this man here seemed to have become a member of the Marcenas family.”
Riddhe muttered and turned away. “Sorry, forget what I just said.” As he said that, he went towards the door, and Mineva watched him leave silently. Suddenly, she saw Riddhe’s back stop in its tracks as he turned his face slightly to her.
“No matter what happens, I’ll definitely protect you. I just hope you can believe in this.”
Riddhe did not wait for Mineva to answer as he opened the door and walked out. She felt that these words sounded despicable, but she could find no words to connect with the Riddhe in space. She did not say anything as she watched him leave. No matter how he would explain it, that line sounded like a marriage proposal. Once the door closed, Mineva had this thought in her mind as she felt shame and disappointment lunge at her again.
It’s not that Riddhe’s a bad man. No matter who it is, I don’t wish to deal with something major in life like this. Mineva understood that this was a childish form of anger from her as she leaned to the window to breathe the air outside. The forest that surrounded the residence was thick and dark, and the sense of dead-end despair was forced into her eyes.
Despite growing up in completely different environments, he unexpectedly felt a sense of familiarity from Loni Garvey. He saw her from afar, standing in the shadow of a building that was like an abandoned place, arguing with a middle-aged man who looked like a bad guy, and felt that he could understand why he thought this way.
If they wanted to enter the capital of the Federation government, Dakar, they would have to be sufficiently prepared. Not only did they have to let their vehicles get inspected when they were interrogated, but they also needed an ID card that would act as a passport. Loni landed the VTOL carrier in the desert on the borders of Dakar, and ferried the group of people to the nearby city. At this point, she seemed to be carrying out negotiations for not only Zinnerman’s fake ID card, but also Banagher’s. He could not hear their conversation, but from the ugly expression on the man, who looked like someone doing underground business, Banagher could imagine him raising 3 fingers at the other man, angrily asking Loni what was going on. “She sure got patience.” Zinnerman muttered on the back seat, but Banagher ignored him as he continued to peek at Loni, who was fighting alone, through the window of the car. After about 10 minutes of negotiations, the worker looked like he finally admitted defeat as he backed off, and Loni took two ID cards back to the car.
She undid the shawl that originally covered her face, and put the slightly short mantle onto her shoulder. Her long-sleeved shirt and tight pants covered her skin, and as she revealed her slightly wavy black hair, her clothing did not feel as thick and heavy as before when she was completely covered in a sheet of cloth. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Loni said as she sat down on the driver seat in a very dexterous manner, and Banagher felt really flustered for some reason. As Loni reached for the front passenger seat to reverse, Banagher deliberately moved his body away from her as he looked outside the window. Unknowingly, several children were gathered on the cracked road, giving looks that could be described as ominous instead of curious.
Amongst the shadows that started to gather on both sides of the building, there was a young boy of around 12, 13 years old, seemingly the leader of the gang. He spat at the window, giving an extremely ominous looking stare. Banagher instinctively sensed that he would take action, and gave a meaningful stare at the driver seat, saying, “Miss Loni…” Loni silently turned the steering wheel and let the bumper hit the large trashbin on the roadside, pushed the gear lever forward and stepped on the gas.
The vehicle immediately accelerated as it rushed down the road. At the same time, the children started throwing stones and empty cans at the vehicle, and the blunt impact sounds rang in the vehicle. There were small figures appearing at the road in front, and there were children in running shirts and pants, throwing stones at the vehicle. It was unknown if anyone was throwing stuff from the windows of the buildings down the streets as there was a pot of plant that was thrown onto the windshield, causing him to cringe, “Don’t worry, it’s bulletproof glass.” But Loni said this without changing expressions.
She nonchalantly let the vehicle accelerate and turned the steering wheel to dodge the children, not causing any danger. Banagher saw the emerald eyes that radiated an adult like glow, and again realized that she resembled his mother a lot, just like he thought. He stared at the profile of the children that were becoming smaller on the window behind, and the yells of local accents and profanities gradually faded away. As the last piece of stone hit the windshield, the vehicle passed through the alley in the next moment as it arrived on the main street.
The trashbin that was sent flying away rolled around, letting out a sharp screech on the dusty tarmac. The children remained in the alley, unwilling to come out onto the main street as they knew that this was not their territory, and that there would be a terrible judgment awaiting them if they let the hoodlums ruling the main street lose face. Banagher thought about how those children were most likely illegal immigrants who did not even get the chance to attend school, and as he recalled their ominous expressions, he seemed to sense the scent of his hometown.
In that old colony he stayed in, the town he grew up in was one of absolute desolation, and even the stench of the sewers would spread from the common ducts. If his mother did not have that determination not to be influenced by the rest and maintain her composure to her surroundings, Banagher too would probably become one of the children throwing stones outside. If he started to work with people who had the same mindset as him, and continued to fight for territory, his will to leave the desolated place would have decreased. If that were the case, he would not have the chance to see the poverty zone on Earth—
“You’re pretty used to it.”
Loni said as she activated the windshield wiper. On hearing that, Banagher heard his heart beat wildly.
“This isn’t the first time you’re here?’
“Yeah…I grew up in a colony, and it feels the same here.”
“Oh.” Loni turned away her surprised stare as she answered, looking in front as she did not pursue further. The side of her face showed an earnest sense, and Banagher could not breathe for some reason as he looked away to ask, “What I’m more concerned about is, is this good for you?”
“I’m referring to your dress up. I heard that women from Islam can’t show other people their skin.”
“There’re several sects amongst the Muslim believers in Islam; all sorts of people in fact, from the orthodox sect that follows the teachings word for word to the liberal sect that adapts according to their environment. The former has more or less died out completely, and speaking of which, if I’m an orthodox, you’ll have to be careful if you see my looks.”
“Why?”
“You’ll either be killed or forced to marry me. Only one of these two options.”
These direct words entered Banagher’s chest, and he knew that his embarrassed face was turning red. Sitting behind, Zinnerman sneered as he brought his face between the driver and front passenger seats.
“This young lady’s father is the chairman of Garvey Enterprises, and wants to enter the Central command of the political and commerce world through electricity generation. It’s impossible if he doesn’t act a little more civilized.”
“That kind of person’s also a Neo Zeon supporter?”
“Isn’t there a saying that the enemy of the enemy is my friend? Ever since the War, the Garvey family had been assisting Zeon. Those who are more aware of intelligence know this. the beliefs is a different thing as compared to business. The enterprises that bought electricity from us cheaply won’t care about where the amount they paid will go to. As long as politics are supported by those enterprises, the Federation government won’t do anything to us “Descendants of Dubai”.”
“The “Descendant of Dubai”?”
This name proves that the grudges mankind has will not disappear easily… I see it.”
There were tall buildings gathered in the far distance as they headed down the road lined with buildings that had dirty roofs on both side. Banagher forgot Loni’s slightly hazy look as he brought his face to the window to look afar.
The skyscrapers looked exceptionally dazzling when basked under the sunlight, and the buildings that were engulfed by the sand surrounding them felt very different from the surrounding dusty buildings. The silver skyscrapers did not look like they fitted in with the blue sky in the background, and it looked like a palace of glass that was beyond this world. He could see 3, 4 of them…and if he went closer to look, he might see even more. They’re not just 100m tall, right? Anyway, this is something that can only be seen on Earth. Banagher showed a stunned expression as he stared at the skyscrapers amidst the clouds in the distance. There would not be any of such majestic skyscrapers in a colony, which was restricted by the range for the centrifuge effect.
As Banagher stuck his face on the window, Zinnerman too showed a sharp glance at the group of skyscrapers. Loni however looked in front as she said,
“That’s Dakar, capital of the Federation government.”
The city of Dakar was located on the Westernmost side of Africa, just off the peninsula of Cape Verde in the Atlantic Ocean. This had been an important trading cove in the Atlantic region ever since the old age, and had prospered as an important place of commerce for the West and Africa. Also, the course of the toughest automobile racing event in the world, the Dakar Rally was located here, making this place more famous.
On the other hand, Dakar had been a slave trading region during the past middle region, and it was said that this place sent more black slaves to the West than any other port. However, this seemed to be a rumor that was made after Dakar became the capital of the Federation government. Ironically, after hundreds of years, the trading port that shipped out black slaves this time became the capital of the Federation government that forcefully controlled the population by sending people to space—not withstanding whether that could be read as a malice of history, the fact remained that those unhappy with the government would raise this point to cause trouble. The vehicle ferrying Banagher and company entered the city from the coastal road on the south side and headed off to the plateau area in the middle of the city. The hook-shaped south peninsula of Cape Verde could be seen, and it looked like an independent cap from the plateau. The landscape that surrounded the sea was covered with tall buildings, and the bustling scene was so astounding that even Manhattan before the war could not compare to it.
Actually, it was after the war that the Capital was set up here. After losing their capital during the One Year War, the Federation government decided to move to Dakar as part of the revival plan. They used the official residence in the self-government zone of Senegal and the administrative facilities, and spent several years moving the offices of the capital to this place. However, this action showed that they had underestimated the environmental impact caused by the colony thrown down on Earth. The desertification that came from the western side of Sahara was already starting to devour the Eastern side of the city, and it was said that in a 100 years afterwards, Dakar may end up in a desert. After that War, the flames of war swirled in this place again, during both the Gryps Conflict and the Neo Zeon War, and the government had no time to steady itself as it started plans to relocate the capital again. However, the plan to move the capital to Lhasa in Tibet was really an illusion that appeared for a fleeting moment. During the Second Neo Zeon War that was also known as “Char’s Counterattack”, the target of the colony drop was Lhasa.
As the Central parliament hall was in its final phase of movement, the mining quarry colony “5th Luna” that was moved from its orbit landed on Lhasa, destroying them both. The senators from the Central council managed to detect Neo Zeon army’s intentions, and had already escaped from Lhasa before the unknowing civilians could. To the Federation government, though the anti-Federation sentiments would rise as a result, it was really fortunate of them to be able to save their human talents in Central. As the plan to move to Lhasa was still in place, they decided to move the capital back to Dakar immediately, and the vast capital sum that was originally planned to be moved to Lhasa was moved back to Dakar completely. As a result, this new Manhattan of the Universal Century had a sudden explosive-like rush of constructions, tall buildings that were built on the plateau area, and became a pavilion on sand…that was what Loni explained to Banagher.
Dakar had a landscape that was surrounded by the sea and the desert, and the skyscrapers definitely contained more than just halls and all sorts of enterprises. There were also high class hotels there and shops of all sorts of retail down the streets. Of course, it was also necessary to have residential areas for those in the service sector, schools and hospitals as well, and these facilities were all moved to Pointe des Almadies. The central functions of politics and economy were gathered at the plateau, but even so, the scene in front of him just looked too packed. Banagher looked up at the skyscrapers, and had the same feeling as when he went to visit an outer planet. Half of the skyscrapers were still in construction, and the large cranes stood tall in the sky, looking to go even higher. The desert was spreading to the city, but there was still so much land, so was there a need to actually cluster everything in this area? The Earth is so vast, yet people have to gather these tall buildings together—
“They’re like the pillars supporting the sun…”
As far as Banagher could remember, he had never seen such tall constructs other than the pillar supporting the artificial sun in the colony. He could not help but mutter, and both Loni and Zinnerman gave meaningful smiles, which caused him to realize that he sounded poetic. He did not intend to deliberately explain this, “This is really weird, you know?” and said this as he pouted.
“They built the buildings so high because they want to get closer to space, right? But those people aren’t willing to leave Earth.”
“They never intended to look up at space. They just wanted to look down at Earth. Earthnoids are like that.”
Zinnerman said. In that case, won’t those who enter space be able to look down at Earth completely? Banagher instinctively thought of this, but at the same time, he understood that his reasoning was completely wrong in the first place, so he turned around to look at the main street called Pompidou Street. The luxurious boutiques, jeweler shops, and slightly stylish looking open-aired cafes looked completely different from the desolate slums from before that were about to be devoured by the desert, and it was to such an extent that one would wonder whether they could find even the slightest speck of sand here. The people heading up and down the streets were dressed brightly, and even if he was mistaken, he definitely saw children dressed in running shirts. The sea surrounding the city could making the fish market a tourist attraction, and it would not be strange to see those involved in the fishing business on the streets, but Banagher just could not see those kinds of people. Is there a checkpoint to inspect on the dress code when people walk in and out of the streets?
The moment he thought about that, Banagher felt that the city lacked a sense of life, and felt a chilling sense from this scene that was filled completely with an artificial presence, and he expressed his thoughts to Loni. Loni however chuckled, “Only Spacenoids can express such thoughts, huh?” and said this.
“There’s no real separate regulation for this, but that they naturally avoid coming out. This is a common theme for the cities under management. Each block is arranged neatly like a chessboard, and the way people live will have to change according to their whims. It should be more detailed in a colony, right? In that place where everything’s artificial, people will wish to live a messy life—”
“And those living in the harsh natural conditions will wish to live in the orderly cities under management, right…so they’re basically hoping for something they don’t have?”
“That’s right. The middle of these two extremes is probably the most suitable environment for humanity, but humanity doesn’t know how to restrain themselves and stop midway.”
The vehicle drove past the streets, and the skyscrapers gradually vanished behind. The wide line of sight showed a green stretch full of trees, the only exception being a wide plaza that was empty. There was an oval-shaped park in the middle of the plaza, and there were police cars deployed around the park. Banagher managed to make out the words ‘Prime Minister Office’ from the road sign, and suddenly felt a little thirsty. What then appeared in front of him was a group of office buildings that were not too tall, simple and steady looking with a relief at the tip of the triangle, making the place look like a temple-like construct. There were guards standing in front of a white building that was most likely the prime minister office, and the building that stood in front, lined around the ring-shaped road and took approximately 200m worth of land was—
“That’s the parliament hall…”
“That’s right. That’s the headquarters of the Federation government, the place where all the representatives from every country on Earth is gathered for Central Meetings.”
Loni’s malt-colored skin showed a slight sense of tension as she continued, “It’s also, the new coordinates given by the Laplace Program…”
Zinnerman looked like he had difficulty breathing as he silently looked up. The group did not head off directly to the hotel where Mahdi Garvey was waiting, but took a detour on the roads in the city to check on the situation around the parliament house. Banagher’s interest in sightseeing faded away. He felt his stomach become heavier due to tension, and looked up at the building that could be considered the symbol of the Federation government. There was a white rectangular building that was approximately 30 levels tall amidst the 6 level buildings lined down the stretch. It did not try to cover or boast the tremendous authority it boasted as it showed its face that lacked empathy towards the sun of Africa.
On a normal working day, it would not be difficult to enter the parliament hall. Even without a prior appointment, one could visit as long as they asked for permission at the registration window of the Lower House. They would have to follow the guidance of the security personnel in the buildings, but the courtyard of the parliament hall was in fact an open place, and one could take as many photos as they wanted. They would also need to proceed through two checkpoints, one for luggage checking and one for metal detection, but one could say that entering that place was as easy as entering a park or a plaza.
In fact, there were surveillance cameras set up all over the place to watch the visitors, and if there were anyone who would cause the slightest suspicion, there would be security personnel rushing in to surround them with sub-machine guns. On this day, it seemed that there was a primary school attending this place for a social studies lesson, and there was a scene of students of around 7, 8 years old facing the front courtyard, led by a female security guard as they moved along. However, the armed guards who were standing around caused the atmosphere to feel rather weird. Had it always been like this? Or did the recent terrorist attacks caused them to strengthen their security? Banagher could not tell which was the correct, as he looked up at the central corridor that was 3 levels tall. He climbed up the stairs, and saw that there was a set of bronze doors on both sides of the First Prime Minister bronze statue. Each door weighed 5 tones, and it was said that these two doors would only be opened during a Senate election or when a newly elected senator entered for the first time. Normally, they would enter from the two corridors on both the left and right side of the Upper and Lower House. The security was tight as there were poles set up on the corridors with surveillance cameras on top of them, foldable barricades and guards on standby. The security personnel that were equipped with bulletproof vests and sub-machine guns looked as serious as Daguza and the other ECOAS members.
The surveillance cameras would turn randomly, quietly noting that it was not a mere decoration. Since I’m caught in such an uproar, maybe my appearance is recorded amongst those that needs to be watched. Banagher tried his best not to look at the cameras as he would mix around with the children or other visitors deliberately. At this moment, Zinnerman tapped him on the shoulder lightly and reminded,
“You’ll look even more suspicious like that. Walk properly.”
After whispering this, he immediately started to turn his head around to look while pretending to be like a country bumpkin. Since Zinnerman’s face was not exposed, I guess I should be fine. Banagher convinced himself with this illogical reasoning as tried his best to look natural. But at this moment, he started to be concerned with the sounds of the jet engines that would appear and disappear from time to time, and looked up at the blue sky lit by the afternoon sun quite a few times.
He could see two flying machines passing by above the central corridor, about 10 levels above the central building from where he was standing. They rose to about 1km in height, and these wingless machines that glided through the atmosphere with their round lifting boards, looked like alien hovercrafts that people imagined a long time ago. “Those aren’t fighter jets, they’re transformable mobile suits.” Zinnerman muttered softly, and Banagher felt a little frightened within as he chased after where the machines went. Those machines seemed to hover above parliament hall regularly, and they could not be seen after they went behind the silhouette of the building.
If those were transformable mobile suits, the reason why there were so many empty lands around the parliamentary hall would be self-explanatory. This showed that the security management did plan for them to land in front of the parliament hall and establish a defense line before anything happened. Of course, the forces deployed on the ground would immediately take action and respond according to the enemy’s attacks. Banagher did see a patrolling GM mobile suit on a hovercraft when he went down the road along the coastline. Most likely, there might be tank-shaped mobile suits hidden underneath.
“If we try to barge in here directly, we’ll be peppered with holes here. It is possible if we attack from above, but…”
“The “breaking horn” mobile suit can’t determine the situation in front of it if it can’t stand here.”
It seemed that Loni had known about the data. “That’s right.” Zinnerman sighed and admitted.
“Petty tricks can’t fool that “Gundam”. Maybe we have to cover it with some hood and drag it along with a trailer…?”
Banagher looked at the armored cars laid around the parliament hall, and even he could understand that this plan was not practical. The coordinates indicated by the Laplace Program was right at the point he was standing—the courtyard of the parliament hall’s middle corridor. “It seems that my father has his own thoughts regarding this.” Banagher heard Loni’s words from behind, walked away from the duo, and looked up at the sky.
It’s hot. Even though it’s not as maddeningly hot as the desert, the hot air mixed with the sea breeze is dampening the skin, and it feels like I’m in a steamer, waiting to be cooked. I can't think of anything if I stand here. No, just standing here alone shows that my mind is not working properly. To think that I would be standing together with soldiers of Neo Zeon, looking up at the Federation’s parliamentary hall, planning an intrusion that’s no different from a terrorist attack…
But that was not all he was thinking. He, who wanted to understand the situation, who wanted to understand how important he was to this situation, truly existed, and if there was a need to take action, he would probably be willing to do it. The mentality Banagher would not have a few moment ago was sprouting inside him. That’s because I want to know the answer, Banagher affirmed in his heart. He wanted to know what was hidden inside the “Laplace Box”, and he wanted to know Cardeas’ intent for opening it. Would it be just like what Alberto said, that he planned everything to create chaos of war? Or was there some other motive? As long as he could not get a clear answer to this doubt, Banagher would not know how to proceed.
That was why he was willing to help search for the “Box”. But if a battle was started because of it—It seemed that it was free time for the children, and their excited cries rang in his eyes as he suddenly felt dazed. He was surrounded by the hot air, gravity and the children running around. He put his hand on his dazed head, and as he arrived in front of the stairs of the central corridor, his eyes were caught by the stone tablet in front if it.
Below the feet of the first Prime Minister’s statue that overlooked the courtyard, there was a hexagonal flat surface that reflected the sunlight, a large object that was 1m in length on every side. There were small words carved on this surface, and on a step below it, there was an explanatory level. Banagher stood at the bottom of the steps, staring at the explanatory words, “That’s the Universal Century Charter” only to look back in shock after hearing this voice. Loni approached Banagher’s back and looked up at the stone tablet.
“This charter that was announced together with the Change of Eras speech is the basis of the Federation government. To you Spacenoids, it’s a curse that decided your fate for the latter 100 years.”
“Curse?”
“Look at the 9th line there.” Loni pointed at the multiple lines on the stone tablet and continued “All space cities, as self-maintaining bodies of the Federation, are to fulfill their own functions, and their basic authority is to be given to the Central government…the other articles are only stated briefly. Don’t you find this one especially detailed? The space administrative plan the Federation set is all based around it. It’s not too much of a stretch to say that all the battles that started since the One Year War was based on this.”
On a closer look, there were numerous names on the clause, and all the representatives of each country, with the signature of Ricardo Marcenas, the First Prime Minister, being on top. A remote laser would sign the signatures on the stone tablet together with the handwriting on the writing pad, and it was signed on the night the change of eras would happen, in the prime minister’s residence of “Laplace”. Looking at the explanatory pad, this charter was established in the residence, and was planned to be released to the entire world during the change of eras. Banagher recalled the things he learned in primary school and glanced at Loni’s face.
“In the early ages, when the colony was completed, when it was proven that humans could live in space, everything was perfect. That’s because Spacenoids are seen as pioneers that created a new world, and never thought about what would happen afterwards. But after people were forced to move, when each Side was large enough to form a country, they finally realized that something was amiss. The Spacenoids did not have any rights to elect the chief of the Sides, let alone the Senate Council. No matter where they went, the sides were not deemed as countries, just self-governing bodies…everything was planned right from the beginning.”
The emerald eyes that were like Audrey’s gradually had a dull look on them. Banagher felt the intimate feeling disappear off her face, and could not help but look away from her.
“The Federation abandoned the extended population in space to allow Earth and humanity to live on. They not only killed humanity, but also our God. Because they said ‘say goodbye to the century of Gods’.”
“But the Federation never banned religion itself, right? There’re all sorts of cultures all over the world that’s maintained, and the First Prime Minister never denied the existence of Gods…”
I believe that a healthy representation of the human spirit would be to ascend to a higher plane, to give laws to ourselves, as we set higher bars for ourselves.—the words he heard from the ghost in the debris of “Laplace” overlapped with the bronze statue in front of him as he argued. “That’s true. Listening to the speech alone, I do believe that Prime Minister Ricardo was a person with liberal thinking.” Loni answered, but her expression showed no sign of relaxing.
“That’s why he was assassinated, probably by the people who belonged to the Federation government as well. This stone tablet is a copy, the original was blown up together with “Laplace”.”
Banagher recalled the tragic and silent devastated scene he saw inside the debris of “Laplace”, felt a chill in his stomach, and kept quiet without saying anything.
“Mosques and Churches do remain. If you go to the Southern islands, you’ll only see villages of thatched cottages, and there’re a lot of people who followed their old customs. But that’s just a remnant left behind to preserve the old flair, and it’s no different from an attraction in a theme park. Those who think that they could avoid the suffering of the migrants just by putting on exotic clothes can’t even brag about their tribe’s culture and pride. Just like the Spacenoids now.”
“What does that mean.”
“The souls of the people on Earth are bounded by gravity, and all of humanity should have moved to space…that was what Char Aznable said when he occupied this parliament hall 9 years ago. Do you have any activists around you who believe in these words even at this point and work hard for it?”
“Just some down and out activists…”
But even amongst the children, those guys just look defeated. Loni looked towards the Banagher who mumbled vaguely, “There’re still cries for self-governance ever after the War, but after two Neo Zeon Wars, those cries should have faded completely, right?”, and added this vicious line.
“Everyone lost their drive, and felt numbed by the control of the Federation. That goes for the cities on Earth as well, but I feel that those living inside the colonies would become lazy. It’s like they’re broiling humans.”
These merciless words caused Banagher to sense an agitation of a Zeon follower. “Sorry, I didn’t have any intent on blaming you.” Loni added this line as she spoke to Banagher, who unknowingly frowned, and looked up at the stone tablet.
“The fact remains that without a powerful organization like the Federation, humanity would have been vanished from Earth a long time ago. However, it had been almost a 100 years since humanity accepted space as their living place. Spacenoids can’t stop caring and accept the Federation’s rule; those that needs to be changed must be changed.”
“Even if…people shed blood for it?”
Banagher did not get any response to his question. He stood beside Loni who gasped slightly, and turned his stare that had nowhere to go back to the stone tablet on the steps.
In order to pass the boundaries of race, religion and country borders, this artificial god called the Federation gift its 10 commandments of the Universal Century to humanity—as a price, some felt like the Gods they believed in was killed, just like Loni; while some like Zinnerman turned to a God of a new era that was born amidst the population abandonment called Zeon. God, hopes, possibilities, anyone could call it however they want. Marida said before that without light, humanity would never live on. Did the Federation rob the light of many when they went through the process of creating a world government? Did they build this stone tablet out of guilt? This stone tablet sealed off the possibility of change humanity planned, restraining them in the name of a shackle. This stone tablet that could barely be lifted by a mobile suit actually created a cover over the world 12 billion people lived in. The owners of the voices showed the distant future, but they could only leave behind a stone tablet that regulated the world…
Gyah! There was a cry from Banagher’s feet, ending his time of deep thought. There was a girl who tripped on the way up the stairs, and though she did try to support herself with her hand, she landed hide on the steps. Her petite body froze, and she started bawling all over her face. As Banagher started to back away due to the crying, “Oh my, it hurts, doesn’t it?” Loni said as she immediately reached out to help the girl.
“Show me your knee…un, this should be fine. This big sister will clean up the stained area, okay?” Loni said this as she took out a handkerchief to press down on the girl’s wound and pat away the dirt on the girl’s clothes. Banagher saw her point at the bronze statue to attract the attention of the girl, took out an antiseptic spray from her bag, and quickly sprayed the wound, and he was mesmerized as he watched how she did all these so easily. “That’s okay, don’t fall down now!” She said as she patted the girl on the back. The girl nodded and scampered off like a rabbit, and Loni, who watched her leave, suddenly showed an intimate presence on her face again. Banagher felt that the chilly atmosphere was rinsed off, and he felt that Loni was dazzling, not because she was a female.
“You like children, don’t you?”
As he spoke, he suddenly thought that the girl should be about two years older than him. Loni however turned her unsuspecting look as she answered,
“Of course. Children are like blocks of possibilities. I want to have around 10 of them.”
“10…!”
“That’s considered a kind of resistance, I suppose. The greatest resistance a woman can do to prevent their race from being wiped out is to bear more children.”
Loni showed a slightly bold smile and left the scene. So she too has such a wonderful thought. Banagher felt a soft breeze enter his head as he saw the back of Loni walk off with a nice posture. Zinnerman, who had been standing beside unknowingly, pointed his bearded face that must have felt stuffy, “Try pursuing her!” and whispered to his ears.
“Those words aren’t something that can be said to anyone. I guess she must have an interest in you.”
Banagher knew that his face was blushing, and it was not because of the surrounding temperature. “Now’s not the time for this!” Banagher pouted as he said and chased after Loni, with Zinnerman snickering behind. It seemed like it was time for the children to return home as the teacher’s whistle rang from afar.
Goreé Island used to be a slave trading port, but had become a tourist attraction at this point, and the Empire Hotel was built on the coast where Goreé Island could be seen from. This hotel was 150 levels tall, and had more than 4,000 rooms. The construction and lodging fees of this building were higher than those in the same industry in the city of Dakar which was bustling with business and resort hotels, and it was considered a hotel of the highest calibre in this city.
In one of the suites on the top floor, Mahdi Garvey was waiting in front of them. They were led in by Loni, and walked into the living room that had glass walls on two sides, and met Mahdi with the bright light shining from behind.
“It’s been a while, Zinnerman. Shall I call you captain now?”
The man, whose back was facing the blue sky outside the window, was seemingly dressed in a high-class suit as he opened his arms wide. The first impression Banagher had of him was that he was younger than expected. Banagher imagined that the chairman of a large corporation to be in his sixties, so he thought that the other man would look similar to Cardeas in some way. However, Mahdi, who stood in front of him, was only around 50 years old, and his tense and ferocious looking face could be passed off for a man in his forties. Banagher felt that it was because of the eyes. Mahdi who had a moustache near his mouth, showed fierce eyes, and his brown skin looked rather dazzling. A sharp expression alone would not be enough to describe Mahdi’s cold expression, and this caused the profound outline of his face to look younger than it actually was.
“Just call me captain. Fallen heroes can’t do anything even if they try to show off.”
Zinnerman answered. Both sides shook hands as Mahdi merely showed smiles on their faces. He looked past Banagher and stared at Loni, who was standing at the door “It’s been tough on you, Loni.” he spoke, and Banagher could sense that Loni was standing straight behind him.
“Abbas and Walid are waiting for you. Head back first, I’ll follow immediately.”
“Yes father.” The voice rang, and the sound of the door opening afterwards. Banagher exchanged glances with Loni as she left the room, and her smiling farewell face passed through his chest. “Are you the pilot of the “breaking horn”?” Mahdi asked, causing Banagher to look back frantically.
“Yes…”
“In other words, you’re the living key of the “Box”. Welcome.”
He continued to remain unsmiling as he immediately looked away. “Sorry for choosing this western-styled room, but please relax.” Even if one were to ignore the sarcasm in these words, Banagher felt a sense of antipathy that Mahdi did not say his name, and did not look like he intended to introduce himself.
“There’s a lot of things we can talk about, but there’s not much time left, so let’s talk about the current situation.”
Mahdi poured the ice coffee provided by the room service into the glasses, and handed them to Zinnerman and Banagher who were seated on the sofa. At this point, Banagher noticed that there was something like a small knife hanging on his waist as he sat down on the sofa.
“The “Breaking horn”…it’s called the “Unicorn Gundam”, I suppose? Did you secure it?”
“Yeah. The “Garencieres” has completed its repairs. Once we’re refuelled, we’ll be able to fly anytime.”
“Good. We can begin our operation then.”
“What operation?”
“An attack on Dakar.”
Zinnerman’s hand that was grabbing onto the glass tensed up, and he glared viciously at Mahdi, who curled his lips up, “Don’t show such an expression. I don’t want to get people to do suicide terrorist attacks.” he smiled wryly, saying,
“It’s just temporary, but I have a plan to suppress Dakar. You just have to remain in the air and let the “Breaking horn” land. Once the target reaches the coordinates, the unit will show new information. That’s how the Program is designed, right?”
“That is right…but I’m not the only one who can decide. I hope that I can be given some time to discuss with the higher-ups first.”
“If you’re referring to Full Frontal, I’ve already obtained his agreement. He sent in reinforcements, including pilots. There are 3 brand new aqua units.”
These words were probably unexpected to Zinnerman, and Banagher could tell that he gasped and showed no signs of speaking up. “The “Sleeves” had never taken action on Earth all this time, but they’re really generous this time. It seems that the value of the “Box” has to be taken seriously. Mahdi continued as he showed a firm glance at Zinnerman.”
“That’s hard to tell. It’s dangerous to casually determine like that.”
“Everything will be clear as long as we get that.”
“If we attack Dakar from the front, the Federation will definitely not remain silent. It’ll become an all-out war.”
“That’s probably true.”
“They won’t keep a closed eye on you either. Is it really alright to crush the company like that? You want to waste the inheritance from Dubai for a “Box” with contents you have no idea of—”
“That inheritance is left for such a moment. I’ve waited long enough.”
Mahdi kept his smile as he stood up. Leaving behind the shocked Zinnerman, he walked towards the glass window wall and sighed as he looked like he could not restrain the feelings he had for a long time.
“I’m not the only one who had been waiting. My father and grandfather had been waiting too, and they died without being able to wait for this moment…”
There was a long wide arc intersecting the sea and the skies, reflecting the not-so-bulky frame of Madhi. Banagher felt that he could understand why Earth residents’ liked tall places.
“My ancestors knew that it was a matter of time before the oil resources would run out, and set a 100 year plan to build the economy city of Dubai. Once we broke free from the economy that relied on Dubai, Dubai would have given Arabia eternal wealth, but it was ruined by the White men’s (Franks) planning—all because they viewed it as a lair for separatists.”
The unfamiliar term ‘white men’ rang, and Mahdi showed a self-mocking smile as he glanced at Banagher, who went quiet like Zinnerman did and looked back to the other side.
“Those white men always use the same methods. First, they appease the royalty who loved to show off and made them agree to unfavorable investment conditions. Once the economy worsens, they would devour the other part. The white men had already planned this ever since the moment they set up the Earth Federation…no, even earlier than that. They want to force Arabia and the Islam community into despair and force the entire race to bankruptcy.”
He turned his sullen stare to the outside of the window as he put his hand on the small knife’s hilt attached to his waist. Banagher did see that kind of arched-shaped blade before. If I remember correctly, it’s called a Shamshir—.
“The terrorist explosion on “Laplace”, the clearing of the separatists, the collapse of Dubai, everything was part of the Federation’s scenario. The Garvey family which is associated with the Abu Dhabi royal family preserved the resources even the royalty did not know of, Dubai’s inheritance, and continued running till now. We built a solar generator in the desert, and even mixed into the civilization of white men with the title of Muslim…”
Mahdi held onto the hilt of Shamshir tightly, and his expression got sharply as he turned to Banagher and Zinnerman. As he bore the weight of the term “Descendant of Dubai”, he continued with a suppressed tone,
“This is to repay the white men that control the Federation. Now’s the time to take action.”
“But we have no idea whether the “Box” really exists in the first place!”
“It doesn’t matter as long as it’s a chance that can cause something. That’s what an omen is about.”
There was a kind of hardened feeling that would not accept other people’s suggestions, and it became a form of wind pressure, shaking Banagher as he sat on the sofa. What shook him were not Mahdi’s words, “I heard that the Vist Foundation protecting the “Box” never expected it to be leaked.” Mahdi then continued as he looked to the window again.
“Rumors has it that the “Box” was released due to the sole discretion of the Foundation’s leader, Cardeas Vist, but I can understand his intent. I’ve met Cardeas before, and that man is an enterprise leader born in the military. He feels that war and economy is all the same in the aspect of how people are killed. If this was his doing, we can tell that the “Box” really exists. Don’t you feel that he would spend effort planning the coordinates?’
“What do you mean?”
“The debris of “Laplace”, and then Dakar…both are places that showed the guilt and filth of the Federation. The road to the “Box” passes through these places, and that means that Cardeas was summoning people. He wants to use our anger, let us rise up, and topple the Federation. Once the people who receive the “Box” start to rise up, the military industry will prosper. Anaheim Electronics and the Vist Foundation controlling it from behind the scenes will be the ones benefiting from it.
From his tone and expression, it was obvious that the man would not accept any other forms thoughts. Banagher recalled Alberto’s words as he listened, and while he thought that it was logical in some way, he looked to his inner heart that was unexpectedly calm, Is that really the case? and tried to ask himself.
During this journey he wanted through, he felt that there was an intent to help others to understand reality. Because of this, he could hear several rumors he had never heard of up till this point. He understood that debating on something through one-sided logic would be unreliable and dangerous, and he had to doubt adults like Mahdi who would speak in an arbitrary tone. These were things he understood in the process up till this point.
Zinnerman continued to stare at Mahdi with a silent expression. Banagher did not understand what kind of relationship they had during the war, but their relationship was probably not one of equal footing as they would make it seem. To Banagher, Zinnerman was simply keeping his ground while considering that the Zeon remnants were still being supported by the Garvey Enterprises, and Mahdi understood this well enough to continue talking on his own. He observed the man called Mahdi Garvey, and noticed that the hand on the Shamshir had a rugged-looking watch for military-use. For some reason, his temples started to pulsate again.
The Shamshir that represented the racial pride of the Middle East race was coupled with a watch that looked like it was given by the Federation. He knew that the man had to wear a suit when facing the political world, but these two things were different and just did not feel like they matched up, and Banagher could not trust someone who did not care about this. Why is it that a man who has such racial pride under a suit must use such superficial western things to decorate himself? It’s weird. Something doesn’t feel right.
“Is that so?”
Banagher’s mouth moved before he could notice it. He ignored Zinnerman, who turned around in shock, and stared right at Mahdi’s face.
“Everyone will have different thoughts after going to such places. I don’t think it’s just to trigger wars, you know?”
Don’t say it. Zinnerman nudged him in the flank with an elbow. Mahdi however merely showed a moment of impatience in his eyes as he twisted the lips under his beard, “Shocking, to think that the key would actually talk.” He said as he showed a smile, and Banagher decided to hate Mahdi for not viewing him as a human.
“Then, let’s hear what the key has to hear. What is Cardeas’ true intent when he handed the “Box” and wanted someone to go through so many detours.”
“To make humanity understand what happened in history, and know the reality that caused such developments. That’s what I feel.”
Banagher too felt unexpected that he could say such words so simply, and he could not help but touch his temples. It was not pulsating, and a thought came from Banagher’s mind, this isn’t what dad planted into my mind. “Oh?” Mahdi answered as he narrowed as he answered.
“If the “Unicorn” determines that the pilot matches it, it will open a path to the “Box”. Cardeas Vist said that before. The “Unicorn” doesn’t have an ability or disposition, but something much gentler. I think it can be called a heart…”
“Heart? Are you saying that the machine has a system can detect the heart?”
“I can’t really be certain. To put it, sometimes, it’ll amplify my emotions and reflect them on the system.”
Mahdi gave a doubting look, wondering if the boy was out of his mind, and turned his stare over to Zinnerman. “I’ve seen it a few times too. That’s not an ordinary Psycommu machine.” Zinnerman answered, and Banagher felt encouraged by these words as he gave Mahdi a stare again.
“I can’t imagine what kind of thing this “Laplace Box” is, but if that’s really something that can change the world, we have to act cautiously about it. I think the processes are testing the intention of those who want the “Box”. If we can’t understand the reality and the history that led us to this point, we naturally won’t be able to think about the future. The “Unicorn” interacts with the heart, and it’s definitely because it wants to check the thoughts of the pilot…”
“You might be making sense if it were a key that’s for kids. However, that’s not the case in reality. You became the key out of coincidence.”
Mahdi interrupted with a stern tone as he turned around. “You may be right, but adults don’t necessarily understand everything correctly, right?” Banagher argued back as he inadvertently got up from the sofa.
“Everyone, adults and children, will express themselves in ways that are beneficial or hope to see everything that is beneficial to themselves. But power alone isn’t enough. What the “Unicorn” wants to say is…”
“That’s enough, Banagher.”
Zinnerman’s voice had some intimidation within it as his voice echoed within everyone’s ears, and Banagher did not continue. I spoke too much, Banagher regretted as he sat back onto the sofa like a puppet with snapped strings. Mahdi let out a sigh and removed his hand from the Shamshir. The cold sound of the hilt and the scabbard hitting each other could be heard in this well air-conditioned room.
“Sorry for not teaching him probably.”
“You’ve recruited a local soldier after all. You’ve sure been busy there.”
Mahdi looked back at Zinnerman with a stiff smile, and turned to look at the glass window again. His back looked smaller than before, and Banagher could see an overlapping image of Alberto on that back. The backs of those who had no choice but to bear the destiny of the family, and though they were forced into a corner, they could only bluff their way through—
“I’m not asking for a return here, but Frontal gave another mission.”
After a short moment of silence that could calm the inner heart, Mahdi suddenly mentioned something else, “He wants me to look for Her Highness Mineva Zabi. Right now, all we know is that she landed on North America. We’re still looking into other information, but news is that the one that let her land on Earth is Ronan Marcneas. She’s mostly likely with him.”
Banagher and Zinnerman looked up with shocked expressions on their faces. Did they manage to meet safely? Banagher immediately recalled the name Riddhe Marcenas, and Zinnerman, who stood beside him, mused, “Ronan Marcenas…the chairman of the Settlement Issues Council?”
“That’s right. He’s also involved with the Federation space army’s reassembly plan. This Ronan is also planning to use this chance to capture the “Box”. He’s currently sheltering Her Highness so as to prepare for a clash against the Vist Foundation…I did hear of something suspicious during my investigations. It seemed that the subordinates of the Vist Foundation have made contact with the Newtype Research facility in Augusta.”
“The Newtype Research…?”
“It’s still unconfirmed, but it looks like they have a Cyber-Newtype as a prisoner. Do you have any idea who it can be?”
Zinnerman’s face showed an obvious change. Marida Cruz rode on the Foundation’s shuttle and went to Earth together with Alberto—“Those crazed scientists in the research facility got themselves a rare experimental specimen. It’s like a sheep being fed to the wolves.” Mahdi continued, and his expression obviously showed that he knew what sort of response Zinnerman would have.
“I am aware of my anxiousness here, but you just happened to be the one who landed on Earth together with the “Box” that can topple the Federation. Naturally, I feel that this is an omen.”
Mahdi gave Zinnerman enough time to understand and accept this as he quipped with a formal tone. Banagher felt that this voice was to be expected, but Zinnerman did not lift his face that was looking down.
“The direction this situation is developing is prompting us to move. You haven’t forgotten the tragedy of Globe, right? At this moment, Her Highness and your subordinate may be going through the same thing.”
Zinnerman finally lifted his face as he glared at Mahdi, and then lowered his silent stare onto the floor. Right in front of them was a man who only cared about solving the problem at hand, and he would make use of other people’s weaknesses without hesitation for the sake of promoting his stand. As Banagher felt disgusted by this, Mahdi did not look over at him, “My preparations here are complete” he quietly added.
“All that’s left will depend on what you do next. Will you help us?”
Mahdi had his back facing the sky that was starting to lose its details, and his sharp, sly eyes were glittering. Zinnerman put clasped hands on his knees, and did not say anything as his unwavering face showed the deep bitterness within him. Banagher himself clenched his helpless fists.
One could see the fishing port beside the medina area as he moves along the coast of the plateau to the north. The scenery of the fishing port itself had never changed, but to the Spacenoids who only knew about the artificial coasts in the colony, it was a mesmerizing scene that had an Earth-like flair. There was a saying that stated that both fish and water were both dependent on each other. The fishing port relied on the visitors that arrived everyday for a living, and naturally, there were cafes and restaurants linked here. The selling point of such shops was that they could cut up the fish that was just reeled in and send them to the kitchen while fresh. It was said that enterprises and government agencies would bring people to this place for reception.
The flight Loni let Banagher and Zinnerman ride on would only take off in the night. They had refused the invitation for a meal, and left the hotel Mahdi booked a long time ago. At this point, they were at the open-aired café at the medina area. The sun was gradually setting west, and the reddish sunset was approaching the horizon constantly. The sun that dyed the sea golden at evening showed a different kind of beauty from the scenery seen in the desert. Though Banagher was not used to the sound of the sea breeze at first, it felt soothing to him at this point, and the rustling of the trees felt delightful. He could not stand the fishy stench, but it was natural to smell the stench of death when consuming other lives for food. In the colonies, where there were handling plants from farming to processing, fish were a source of protein that were killed off first.
He could see a mobile suit flying over on a hovercraft from beyond the fishing boat masts located on the port. The large machine, a Federation machine called the “GM III” that was built with a streamlined straight frame had an assisting booster equipped to its backpack, and looked like it was stationed to protect the capital. From Banagher’s position, the way it laid itself out on the hovercraft did make it look like it was windsurfing. I’ll have to fight it if I attack Dakar, right? Banagher could not sense any sense of realism as he muttered in his heart. He then looked over at Zinnerman, who was seated opposite him. Zinnerman had gulped down the first mug of beer that was served almost instantaneously, and the second mug was almost empty. His facial expression that lost all sharpness was looking at the other end of the horizon. His eyes showed no signs of being tipsy, but it seemed like he was a dampening shadow in this bustling café.
“…Well, I’m sorry for what happened just now?”
Banagher never talked to the other man right in the eyes after they walked out of the hotel. Mahdi hit the weak spot, and he was worried about whether he would be able to keep his calm as a captain. Unable to get rid of his doubts, he spoke up a few minutes later, and Zinnerman then turned his eyes sharply at him.
“I talked too much in front of Mr Mahdi because I got too ahead of myself…”
“No. What you felt was correct.”
Zinnerman again turned to look at the horizon, and he sounded unexpectedly calm. Banagher held his breath as he looked back.
“When we entered the atmosphere…the “Unicorn” approached the “Garencieres” on its own like a living person. You should have already lost consciousness by then. It did not move like a machine. I guess it responded to your heart.”
Heart. Zinnerman showed a slightly troubled expression as he mentioned this term, and continued,
“That’s a sub-consciousness deep within you that even you can’t reach…I guess. Even though you sealed your heart, that machine still detected it. It knew that you wanted to live, that you still have strength to live on. The “Unicorn” is driven by such a will. There has to be some form mechanical logic within it like how the Psycommu started controlling it on its own.”
Zinnerman gulped down the beer in large mouthfuls, and played with the empty mugs, “In fact, the guy inside is someone who can’t die no matter how many times you try to kill him.” and added on with a bitter smile. The captain’s still the same as usual. Banagher felt relieved as he asked, still feeling a little shocked inside, “So you brought me to the desert to confirm this?” Zinnerman however merely gives a thin smile, not saying anything at all.
“…Will you assist in Mr Mahdi’s operation?”
After a moment, Banagher raised the question he was most concerned about. The smile disappeared from Zinnerman’s mouth.
“Mr Mahdi said that he wants to suppress Dakar. That means he’ll attack this city, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Don’t do that. Since we know where Miss Marida is, why don’t we go save her? If it’s Audrey…Princess Mineva, she’ll—”
“We can’t just go after we say so. That’s how it is in the military.”
Zinnerman interrupted with an anxious tone as he put the beer mug back onto the table. Banagher saw that he looked as serious as a professional soldier, and could only keep quiet.
“…Hey, Banagher, do you want to come over to our side?”
Zinnerman stared at the empty mugs as he mumbled this time. At this moment, Banagher heard his heart beat loudly.
“You want me to join Neo Zeon?”
The response was silent. Banagher felt that his throat was suddenly stuck, and he felt unable to breathe as he lowered his face that could not answer. “You don’t want to?” Zinnerman asked silently.
“It can’t be helped, I guess. We’re the terrorists who wrecked the colony you lived in.”
“…That’s not it. I too killed Mr Gilboa and other pilots. I’m not going to assume things on one side’s values, but I’m going to try and understand it a little.”
Something inside my heart was changing when I talked with Mahdi—no, even earlier than before. Banagher said as he faced this kind of emotion, while Zinnerman showed him a deliberate sharp stare.
“Right now, I can’t just stay in the safety zone and critique. I’m part of the situation, and I have to take responsibility. But this isn’t something I can accomplish by joining one side…”
Banagher could not form his thoughts into words as he clenched his hands that were on his knees. Daguza and Captain Otto did talk about the term “responsibility” before, and this troublesome term would bind him up, making him unable to respond and even force him to become evil. However, if he could not bear its weight, he would not be able to do anything in this world. If he did not want to become a helpless bystander, he had to prepare himself to take the role of a protagonist and take up the responsibility that came with it. On this premise, even if it showed only a little effectiveness, he would find a possibility to improve the current situation and bear the weight of the world—that was definitely what Cardeas wanted to express. What he wanted to teach was that if one wanted to do something, he has to find out what that something was he could do, and then try to get as much ability to approach that target as possible.
“I’m still not too sure of what I should be doing…but someone once told me to think about how to use the “Box” for a good outcome. Maybe that’s something I should—”
Zinnerman suddenly raised his hand and called the waitress beside him. “Another beer please. For him.” He said with a nonchalant look on his face as he pointed at Banagher, wanting him to continue talking. “I’m still underaged, you know!?” Banagher then gave a shocked expression right back as his momentum was worn out.
“Just drink. Today’s a special day.”
“What’s special…”
“You’ve become an adult. There’s no punishment for celebrating a little anyway.”
A warm smile Banagher had never seen before caused him to feel some warmth in his stomach. He felt embarrassed, and thought that he could not look back anymore as he turned his stare to the sea surface that was dyed sunset.
Audrey’s definitely looking for something she can do to stop this meaningless war on the other end of the horizon. Anxiety and excitement raced in his heart as he suddenly thought, What about Ensign Riddhe? I hope he can proceed smoothly there, but—
It had been an hour since he went from Cape Canaveral in North America to the West Indies islands. As he flew in the skies above after travelling for 1,000km, Riddhe discovered the battleship that was to be the destination.
“Is that it…?”
He switched the all-view monitor expansion cursor to the target and let the CG correct the visuals. The smart-looking ship had a simple bridge on it, and it was definitely the “Ra Cailum”.
The flagship of Londo Bell departed from the Eastern side of Asia, and reached the skies above the Atlantic Ocean after moving over half the world. Riddhe stared at the profile that resembled a “ship” more than the “Nahel Argama”, and understood that his heart was not fretting as he took care to adjust the speed and height of the machine. The “Delta Plus” that transformed into Wave rider form moved its main wings slightly, drew a long arc of a jet stream in the air, and the machine’s silhouette that resembled a plane started to fall in height.
The “Ra Cailum” was located 500m above the ocean, and though he understood the concept behind it, he still felt intrigued by how this ship looked like it was floating above the sea. Since it could maintain a low speed of 300km per hour, one could see that the functions of the Minovsky Craft were working well. Riddhe estimated the relative velocity of his machine that was flying at subsonic speed as compared to the ship, checked that the estimated time of arrival had no change, and sighed slightly as he opened the visor of the helmet. He rubbed his eyes that were bleary due to a lack of sleep the past few days, and the sharp alarm-like sound rang inside the cockpit.
Riddhe then closed the visor and grabbed onto the control sticks again. The automatic sensors caught sight of 3 machines approaching from the “Ra Cailum” as the window expanded in a corner of the all-view monitor. The 3 machines that could be identified on the window were giving allied signals, and they were equipped with subflight systems (SFS). They were 1,200m above the water, and the relative speed was 0.8 Mach. The SFS used standard Base Jabbers, but the “Delta Plus” could not identify the mobile suits on them from its records.
“No matching data…is that the new “Jesta” that was mentioned before?”
Riddhe stared at the humanoid machines that were colored medium blue, and recalled the name of this new model when the “Ra Cailum” was undergoing testing. At this moment, the detail that was in a V formation suddenly scattered, causing him to hold his breath. The expanded windows chased after the scattered machines as it formed three blocks and started searching through the all-view monitor. With the slightly dim evening sky as the backdrop, the oval-shaped Base Jabbers let out short jet streams, and the giant detail that was above entered Riddhe’s eyes for a short moment. They were GM-type mobile suits, but their shoulders and legs were equipped with thick protruding armor, and each part had large thruster nozzles. One would naturally think of a smart refined figure when the advantage of a GM-type is mentioned, but these were as massive as American Football players.
The massive mobile suits were piloting the unmanned SFS as their transport carrier, approaching rapidly. The two mobile suits that flew first went in the opposite direction of the “Delta Plus”, and Riddhe frowned at this. They were being too close if they wanted to pass by, and the actions those two mobile suits did shock him. As the trio pass by each other, the two “Jesta” actually stepped off the Base Jabbers and leaped into the air.
“What…!?”
The two mobile suits looked like they were trying to get in the way of the “Delta Plus” as they lit the thrusters on their backs and legs, crossing each other in the sky. It was impossible for a non-transformable mobile suit to be able to fly in the sky, except for the ship that had a large Minovsky Craft on it. They intertwined in the air for a moment, and immediately went straight down, covering the all-view monitor. Riddhe hurriedly lowered the height of the machine, but the smoke the two mobile suits created was mixed in with steam, covering his eyes, and the “Delta Plus” was swaying unsteadily in confusion. Once they finished their stunt-like zero distance intersection, the two machines landed on the other Base Jabbers and flew towards Riddhe who pushed the control sticks to the maximum.
It was common to have such aerial transit training where they would practice how to switch Base Jabbers, but normally, they would practice leaping from top to bottom, so the switch between two mobile suits side by side was definitely not normal. Riddhe stared at the two mobile suits that were moving far away, but the lock-on signal that rang next caused him to tremble. He saw the other “Jesta” get above him without him knowing, raising the beam rifle, and aimed at the “Delta Plus” from the Base Jabber.
“What are these guys thinking…!”
Riddhe immediately let the machine tilt sideways to escape from the opponent’s shot path. At the same time, he saw the two machines behind him quickly spin around to surround him from both left and right sides. In the midst of this tremendous G-force, he activated the open channel of the wireless communicator.
“To the approaching allied forces, this is Romeo 008 of the Nahel Argama Squadron, Ensign Riddhe Marcenas. I’m transferred to the “Ra Cailum” and headed to your ship now. Please make a way for me.”
There was no response. The two machines that tailed the “Delta Plus” from the rear left and right sides gradually pulled their distance. Since there was a mobile suit waiting for him in front, Riddhe could not accelerate to shake them off. “You guys should be hearing this, right? Hurry up and answer!” The two mobile suits on the sides looked like they were laughing at this agitated Riddhe as they leaped off the Base Jabbers again, crossing in the air to bring confusion to the machine. The front of the waverider sank down, and the alert indicating a loss in speed flickered on the display board.
Riddhe managed to adjust the machine, only for the remaining mobile suit to point its beam rifle at him from above. He understood that he was being toyed with as he clicked his tongue at this perfect coordination, and felt blood rush to his head as he glared up at the “Jesta” that had the serial number U007 on the shoulder. “IF you want to fight…!” He uttered out these words and glared over at the two machines that were sticking to him closely. The left side was U008, and the right was U009; and after checking the serial numbers on the shoulders, he guessed that the mobile suit that was working alone was the leader suit, deliberately slowed down and let the two machines glide pass.
It seemed that both sides felt that Riddhe was scared as they adjusted their speeds cautiously, intending to switch over for the third time. The moment they jumped off the Base Jabbers, Riddhe pulled the control stick and let the “Delta Plus” transform into its mobile suit form. The silhouette of the waverider immediately broke down, reforming into a human-shaped unit as it let out a thin layer of steam. Riddhe lit the thrusters to negate the air resistance that was coming in from the front, and charged right at the “Jestas” that were about to cross in front of him.
He broke through and caught up to the U009 that was about to dodge, and as he saw the main camera on the GM-type visor. He then let out the throttle to its maximum, and planned to let the “Delta Plus” step on the back of the “Jesta”.
(You dare to use me as a stepping stone…!)
The angry growl of the pilot rang through the communication channel. Riddhe used this stepping momentum to touch on the Base Jabber the U009 planned to land on. The left arm of the “Delta Plus” grabbed onto the grip of the platform while its right arm drew out the beam rifle. The universal-use connector lit its matching signal, which indicated that the Base Jabber was controlled by the “Delta Plus”.
The U009 was used as a stepping stone and lost control of the Base Jabber as it felt down to the sea 1km below. The U008 connected to its Base Jabber as it immediately turned around to look for the leader’s U007 unit. He trailed the jet steams crossing in front of him and pointed his rifle at a cloud behind him. At the same time, the lock-on alarm rang. (OK, that’s all for now.) The voice from the wireless communicator rang inside his helmet.
(I’ve more or less understand your ability, Ensign. It looks like you didn’t get the special treatment for nothing.)
The U007 that pointed its gun at the “Delta Plus” beforehand raised it back. What is this guy saying? Riddhe was unable to understand the situation immediately as he kept his reticule pointed at the “Jesta” that was above him. Another alarm could be heard from another direction, and he frantically raised his mobile suit. Riddhe saw the Base Jabber of the U008 rising up form below and pointed his gun over. At this moment, the voice could be heard from the U007’s wireless communicator (Stop it, Daryl!)
(But Leader Nigel…! How can we let others look down on Londo Bell’s Tri-Stars—)
(We’re being looked down upon because this is the extent of our abilities. Go get Watt’s “Jesta” back on board. We still have to go through our training tomorrow even if it’s soaked in seawater.)
(Roger that!) The U008 pilot yelled back as its Base Jabber went down to the sea. So they’re the legendary Londo Bell Tri-Stars? At this moment, Riddhe did not feel really emotional as he stared at the “Jesta” the man called leader Nigel was piloting. The U007 was half-squatting on its Base Jabber, and it raised its left arm to a horizontal level, surprising him.
The mechanical arm reached over to him, seemingly welcoming him. A black spot could be seen floating in the sky, and it was the silhouette of the “Ra Cailum”. This seemed to indicate that the welcoming party was over. Riddhe confirmed the personal mark of three stars shot through with an arrow, and sighed at the thick-skinned action. He let the “Delta Plus” get off the Base Jabber, turned away from the SFS that started to wheel away on its own, transformed into the waverider and lit its thrusters.
The Daryl and Nigel units that took back the U009 that fell into the sea followed up. Riddhe felt stares of antagonistic intent and curiosity as he opened the communication channel with the “Ra Cailum”. The premier large battleship was merely a black spot in the sunset backdrop, and he felt a sense of unease when he saw the scene of this place that would become his mothership.
The large and white ship frame of the “Ra Cailum” had a catapult deck on both port and starboard sides that were unified with the ship. It was about as old as the time of establishment since Londo Bell was formed, and could be considered a newly built model. The long and narrow ship was inferior to the “Nahel Argama” in terms of quality, but it was almost 500m in length, and could hold 12 mobile suits.
This “Ra Cailum” once led the Londo Bell fleet opened a defense line during the Second Neo Zeon War that happened 3 years old, and managed to prevent the space asteroid base “Axis” from falling onto Earth, indicating its activeness to the world. It was said that the fleet that was half-decimated took a large sum for repairs, and the reason why this ship continued to be the flagship of Londo Bell was mostly due to political considerations. The Neo Zeon War could be seen as one where both sides suffered heavy casualties before everything ended, and thus, the Federation government had to brag their army’s victory and hailed the “Ra Cailum” that saved Earth as a symbol of victory.
The fact that Captain Bright Noa was the ship captain during this war should probably be a big reason for such political considerations. The man himself may not have such ambitions, but this young commander of “White Base” was hailed as a hero of the One Year War, and after more than a decade, this hero was hailed as a symbol of the war’s victory. Ever since he took over as Fleet Commander, he was given an exception of a personnel order to continue as a ship captain from the Senate Council deliberately. That was because he wanted to remain distant from the Central government, and because they felt the danger from the title of “Newtype Squadron Commander”. Perhaps these two thoughts created a coincidence that created this outcome.
If that were the case, there would not be a more troublesome ‘guest’ than Riddhe himself on this ship. He was taken in by the “Ra Cailum”, and before he could even take off his pilot suit, he was summoned to Captain’s room. Without changing his expression, he gave a bitter laugh at how he was thinking about he, who hated politics all this time, would be considering the other man’s political position…
“Today’s training didn’t include “Jesta” anti-water properties, right? Lieutenant Nigel.”
Bright did not look over at Riddhe who said this as he stared at Lieutenant Nigel Garrett, who too was summoned to the Captain’s room for questioning. “Yes, I’m really sorry.” The Tri-Stars leader seemed to understand that the actions of an ace pilot were not restrained by rank. His still posture was wavering somewhat, and his glittering eyes under the slightly long bangs were very calm, not hiding the thought that it was part of his job to listen to a superior officer’s lecture. For a 27 year old soldier, Nigel’s expression was extremely reserved, and he not only had an aura of coolness and elegance for a man, but also a sense of arrogance, seemingly the most trusted pilot. But basically, he had a sense of bottomless presence to him.
Perhaps Bright was already used to seeing such things as he did not look like he minded while sitting in front of the table. Like the “Nahel Argama”, the Captain’s office was squared, 5m a side, and besides Riddhe and the Tri-Star leader, there was First Officer Meran, who had been giving a pessimistic look right from the beginning. Riddhe recalled Squad Leader Norm saying that the mothership and a pilot had to have a married-like camaraderie. If the pilot were to misbehave, the defense line of the mothership would be affected; and if the crew members of the mothership hated the pilot, the pilot would have nowhere to call home.
“They met Ensign Riddhe’s “Delta Plus” during flight training, and with Lieutenant Nigel’s suggestion, the Ensign agreed to take part in the training, and during the mid-air transit, Sub-Lieutenant Watts lost control and caused the Uniform Nine to fall into the sea…is the truth different from what I said, Ensign Riddhe?”
Nevertheless, First Officer Meran continued to frown with his thick eyebrows as he said with a gruff voice befitting of his hulking figure. Riddhe intended to speak up, but Sub-Lieutenant Watts Stepney went forward to say, “I didn’t make a mistake.” causing Riddhe to remain quiet. The round-faced Watts did not know that he was in a completely opposite position from Nigel. It seemed that Watts was the most impulsive amongst the Tri-Stars, and he was the one who looked for trouble with Riddhe first when he got on the ship. Things managed to end quietly before this because Nigel yelled at him, but Riddhe probably would expect another surge of emotions from him.
“I operated it just as per normal. It’s because—”
“Sub-Lieutenant Watts.”
Sub-lieutenant Daryl McGuinness, who was standing beside Watt, interrupted him as he spoke up, saying, “First Officer Meran is asking Ensign Riddhe here.”
As the infuriated Watts calmed down, Daryl did not look at anyone else in the eyes as he merely looked before. His relatively thick Latin blood and curly hair matched each other, giving him a carefree presence, but this man was not to be underestimated. Daryl merely felt that this was not something they could deal with, and unlike the simple-minded Watts, he had another kind of danger to him. Riddhe held back from sighing and turned to Meran, answering, “What you said is the truth.” No matter what, Riddhe’s thoughts were no different from the other two members of the Tri-Stars. He too wanted to get away from this place as fast as possible.
Of course, the one who asked most probably knew that this was not the truth. He stared at the emotionless Nigel, and then turned to the unkempt faces of Daryl and Watts, “It’s great to be so passionate about training.” and sighed as he said.
“However, the “Jesta” is a crucial machine in the Federation space military reassignment plan. You’ll only add to the troubles if you go out of control and ruin the results of the tests, and besides, we’ll probably be called in to take part in a real battle in the future. Do you understand? This is an opportunity you’ve been waiting for so long since you couldn’t make it to the Neo Zeon War, right? What do you intend to do if the machines can’t move in the middle of a crisis?”
It seemed that it would truly be troublesome, as Nigel and company showed a slightly frozen expression. It was true that 2, 3 years ago that they broke a new training record through their own unique attacks, and became famous as the Tri-Stars of Londo Bell. If they could not prove that they could use their skills in actual training, their fame at this point would only be a fleeting image—perhaps the trio were anxious over this.
“That’s enough, Meran. I don’t intend to pursue things further, but you people are to try and appease the engineers of Anaheim as much as possible.”
Bright said that as he got up from his chair. . “Yes!” Nigel and company stamped their feet together and answered.
“Same thing to the deck crew. You’re to clean up the seawater on the deck.”
“Yes…” The trio showed a cloudy expression on their faces. “Is there a problem?” Bright then asked to confirm as he narrowed his eyes at the Tri-Stars.
“Clear up what you began. That’s all. You can go.”
“Yes!” The trio’s response echoed through the Captain’s room, and Riddhe sensed that they turned behind together from beside. Daryl pulled Watts, who was giving a heinous stare, by the shoulder, and retreated from the room. Finally, Nigel passed through the door. “Lieutenant Nigel.” The door was half-closed the moment Bright spoke up.
“What’s your appraisal of Ensign Riddhe?”
“He passed.”
Nigel simply answered and did not look at Riddhe in the eyes as he closed the door. Not knowing what expression to give, Riddhe could only look back at Bright. “Please excuse me then.” Bright nodded at Meran who said this as he looked back at the monitor panel. He waited for Meran to leave the room, and let out a soft sigh.
“You sure had a violent welcoming party, Ensign Riddhe.”
“Yeah…”
“Our course will change course to Africa. The report states at the Zeon remnants hiding in the Sahara desert are starting to move aggressively. If it has something to do with the disguised ship, we may end up fighting immediately after we make contact.”
Bright hid the smile he showed for a moment as he called out the satellite visual of the Western Sahara on the monitor panel. He continued to use his eyes to stare at the movements the Zeon remnants made for the past few days as he continued.
“Securing the “Laplace Box” is our utmost priority, but we probably won’t have that kind of freedom. Better tense up and work well if you want to be a pilot of this ship.”
Bright merely said this. Riddhe original thought that the other man would go more in-depth with the conversation as he gave a surprised expression, “Yes.” He stared at the back that was silently prompting him to leave, made his decision and spoke up, “Can I say something here?”
“What is it?”
“No matter my origin, I’m a pilot of the Federation army. I hope I won’t have any special treatment.”
The reason why the Tri-Stars would pull such petty tricks on him was because news of him being given special treatment was spread through the ship. He was already mentally prepared about being viewed as an irritant, but he could not stand being treated as a troublesome VIP and being unable to do anything. He stared at the back that had no intent of looking back at him and continued to emphasize with a restrained tone.
“I’ve been through battle before. Please don’t remove me from dangerous missions just because I have to keep watch—”
“DON’T BE NAÏVE!”
Bright turned around to let out a roar that pierced through the pilot suit, causing goosebumps on Riddhe’s skin. Bright turned back to say as he stared at the eyes on Riddhe’s stiff body, “This thought itself shows that you view yourself as a privileged person. If you want to be a normal pilot, go help clean the deck.” He pulled his black hair that was a little unkempt on the side and turned to the numerous obituary photos hanging on the war.
“I’ve seen a lot of pilots who believed that they won’t die in battle. However, people will die when it’s time to die.”
There were photos of pilots who served this ship in the past, but were unable to return as they vanished on the battlefield—Riddhe followed the stare that was fixed on the photo of Lieutenant Commander Amuro Ray, and felt that his mouth was blocked as he looked back at Bright. Bright’s face showed a mere moment of anguish before he showed the expression of a commander as he turned his calm stare at Riddhe.
“No matter who you are, I’ve never thought of giving you any special treatment. If there’s a need, I’ll naturally call you in to work, but you must definitely come back. If you can do that, I’ll recognize you as an ordinary pilot.”
Bright finished these words and sat back in front of the table without waiting for Riddhe to answer. In the face of these words only a commander who faced countless battles could say, Riddhe was overwhelmed by the weight of the words as he wanted to argue back You don’t say? He quietly clenched the hands clinging onto his thighs.
I have no intention of dying. Right now, I don’t have a reason for that, before I can redeem the crimes of this cursed bloodline of mine— he muttered in his frozen heart, “Yes”, answered, and saluted. Bright had no intention of lifting his head as he continued to stare only at the document on the table.
Riddhe walked out of the Captain’s room, and the first thing that entered his eyes was Nigel, who was leaning on the corridor wall. He stared at the leader of the Tri-Stars who gave a silent stare, sighed and said, “I understand.”
“I’ll help clean the deck. Please tell the leader that I’ll be there to help out.”
Nigel was merely the captain of the Tri-Stars, and the mobile suit squadron of the “Ra Cailum” itself was run by another Commander. The other party was the ace here, but he had no intention of letting another man who did not know about the circumstances tell him off here. Riddhe passed by Nigel, who did not say anything, and intended to head to the mobile suit deck, “You’re too rigid.” but a voice caused him to stop.
“Your heart and body are so rigid and tense. It’s rare to have a talent like yours. You’ll just end up wasting it in the end.”
He saw through me. Riddhe unconditionally felt this sense of defeat. The sunset shone in through the ship window, and Nigel showed Riddhe an eagle-like stare. Riddhe instinctively looked away and said, “I won’t cause trouble for you.” After that, he left the scene, but Nigel moved away from the wall and spoke,
“You’re a rookie who doesn’t even know the meaning of the word team? Well, us Tri-Stars do whatever we want, and there’s no need for us to give you suggestions, but I’ll shoot you down from behind if you dare to pull the Ra Cailum fleet down. You better remember that.”
Riddhe turned around to look over his shoulder, and Nigel did not let go of this opportunity as he said that viciously. So he’s still wary of me. He reaffirmed this sense of exclusion from the other man and convinced himself into thinking that this would make this easier, and said sarcastically, “This is a good ship!”
“A well-experienced captain, a united mobile suit squad; don’t you find this ideal?”
“Your sarcasm ain’t half bad there. Are you saying that us idiots who only know how to train are having a group orgy or something?”
“I didn’t say that. I just feel envious, because I’m…”
I can’t get into your clique anymore— these unexpected words sank into Riddhe’s stomach, and he kept quiet. Nigel eased up on the killing intent surrounding him as he gave Riddhe a surprised look. He sighed and turned his face to the communication panel on the wall.
“You should know this already, don’t you? The “Jestas” were machines that were created to support the UC plan.”
The communication panel would normally show the footage captured by the external surveillance cameras. Riddhe, who heard this for the first time, stared at the side of Nigel’s face that was starting at the sunset sky.
“The Tri-Stars were originally piloted to be test pilots of the UC plan, but it was interrupted halfway through, and we ended up having to use the support machines.”
They were machines developed to work with and support that “Unicorn”—if that was the case, it would explain why the “Jesta” that had endurance and manoeuvrability would have different specifications from a mass-produced machine. He suppressed the throbbing in his heart as he turned towards Nigel.
“When the plan was interrupted, the “Sleeves” started to be more active in their movements. Now the entire army is desperately searching for a disguised ship that dropped onto Earth just because both sides once fought in space. In the end, even us Londo Bell is called in to help when we can’t even do anything. It’s obvious why we’re all becoming crazy here, isn’t it? If the product of the UC plan is taken away by the “Sleeves”, and if it were hidden on that disguised ship—”
“I don’t understand.”
He had no confidence that he could keep a straight face at all. In response to Riddhe’s quick response to end things, Nigel said with irony, “Me too.”
“A pilot doesn’t need a brain to look at everything. Even if the people up there are all idiots, we can only trust their decisions to fight. In this sense, I feel that our luck is rather good.”
“You’re talking about Captain Bright?”
“Yeah. Besides, he’s someone who made his career leading “Gundams” up till this point. He’s not going to be swayed easily, so you better man up.”
Nigel never stopped viewing Riddhe as an outsider throughout, and he left these words as he left the front of the communication panel. It can’t be helped. If a supervisor sent over from the Senate Council is pretending to look like a pilot here, I’ll show that kind of attitude too. He looked back at himself for having come so far, and suddenly felt a cutting pain in his heart. “It’s not that simple.” He said as he showed a slight smile on his face. Nigel stopped and again shot a stare full of killing intent from beyond the shoulder.
“That’s because our enemy may be that “Gundam”.”
He ignored Nigel, who gave this surprised expression, and looked at the crimson red sky on the communication panel. He was referring to that mobile suit that could open the grudge 100 years ago, the “Laplace Box”, and the boy who was chosen to be its pilot, Banagher Links. I feel you’re a man of your word. He shook off that voice from his mind as he stared at the sea that was dyed sunset, and a rich color that looked like it was burning intensely caused him to feel dazed. The speed of the “Ra Cailum” was the same as when he arrived, and the sea that was like blood flowed in front of his eyes without end.
(…The test results for the “Zee Zulu” are rather positive, and the pilots respond very quickly to it. They heaved a sigh of relief when they know that they’ll be assisting you in battle, Chairman Mahdi.)
The masked face spoke on the monitor, and Loni did not feel that it was the face of a human. The nose bridge and the lips under the mask were too refined, and the thick blond hair reminded her of a puppet. Am I seeing a complete artificial image here? she felt some goosebumps as she stared at Full Frontal, who was calmly smiling. “This is the strategy you set.” and heard Mahdi answer beside her.
“Once the plan to suppress Dakar is complete, our comrades around the world will take action. At that time, the chance to save her Highness Mineva will probably appear. It is my sincere wish to be able to be of assistance to the revival of Zeon.”
(Those are reassuring words. As you know, we lost our ability to fight on Earth. I’m really delighted that you’re able to go beyond your belief of religion and accept us residents of space.)
The delicate choice of words caused Loni’s father to smile in front of the console. Loni and Mahdi were the only ones in the chairman's room where phone calls were forbidden, located in a corner of the port facility that belonged to Garvey Enterprises. In the midst of this darkness, where the only light was the reflective light of the monitor, Mahdi again shot a sharp stare at Frontal. “To me, you aren’t pagans, but children who lost their God.” He said as he opened his arms hidden under his white Arab Thawb .
“We’ve inherited the Highest blessing from the last prophet, so naturally, we have to help you. Islam opens its arms to all of humanity.”
(I understand. I’ll pray for the success of this operation. Insha'Allah.)
“Sieg Zeon.”
Frontal’s smiling face was the last impression as the communication was cut off. At the same time, the room was lit up, and the light shone on Mahdi, who was sat on the leather chair, and Loni, who was sitting diagonally behind him. At this place, they had no need to care about the stares of others. Mahdi was dressed in his Thawb and a bright striped Keffiyeh, but his expression was giving a subtle message, showing that he wanted to rinse his mouth.
That was the kind of response to be expected from a straightforward man who had to go through such social etiquette that defied his heart. Loni recalled the expression her father made when he said Sieg Zeon, and gave a bitter smile on her face. “How about it, Loni?” on hearing Mahdi’s question, she lifted her face.
“Do you think that is the son of Zeon Deikum?”
The reason why her father let her accompany him when he contacted Frontal was to affirm this. Unlike her two older brothers that were born to different mothers, Loni always had a mysterious instinct. She put her hand on her temples covered by the Hijab, “I don’t know.” and answered honestly.
“The man Char Aznable will change the way he appears according to the times.”
“Makes sense. I’ve never met Char before. Perhaps that is a descendant of Zeon who wanted to use the mask to become an idol…”
Mahdi obviously despised people who used such little tricks more than the idol worship that was a taboo. “Never mind. These are small things before the big things. For now.” He said that as he got up from the chair.
“Since the past, there were common Muslim landmarks on Africa, and the Federation government arrogantly built its capital here. Most sins would lose their meaning in front of this great sin. The Federation view those against them as terrorists, and continues to allow this opposition to exist so that they can maintain their army. In this sense, we’re the same as Neo Zeon…no issues with the feeding of information to those Federation rats, right?”
“Yes. With regards to the spies in the Intelligence Branch, I’ve already sent 4 sets of fake information to fool the enemy regarding our actual fighting ability, and I haven’t revealed them to the “Sleeves” pilots and the mechanics.”
“That’s good. Frontal will definitely take action on us based on the developments. Whether it’s the “Box” or her Highness Mineva, we know too much about the sleeves.”
“White men only know how to play tricks…do you mean that?”
“That’s right. This kind of logic works on Zinnerman too. The ones I can really believe are my relatives.”
Mahdi put his hand on Loni’s shoulder and showed the smile of a father. Loni felt a realistic sense of expectation as she stared at her father’s eyes from the front. However, not all white men were bad, and she recalled the warmth the boy called Banagher showed as her closed lips twitched. Mahdi did not seem to notice as he used his military diver watch to check the time and retracted his hand from Loni, saying, “It’s about time.”.
“Let’s head to the port. Who knows what will happen after tomorrow.”
Those were heavy words. Loni nodded silently and forgot about the moment of hesitation as she followed her father out of the meeting room.
The port of Garvey Enterprises was the only clear grey artificial construct located 1,500km north of Dakar, on the coastline in the Sahara region. There was a solar generator located 10km inland, but the mirrors that littered the desert looked as lonely as ever. The collecting mirrors that were gathered in a ring would absorb the sunlight and convert it into electricity through the accumulator; and after that, a microwave electricity generator system would pass the power to those that signed on for its services. The large amount of heat created when the sunlight was gathered could also be used on the treatment of harmful wastes, and one main trait of Garvey’s solar generators was that they could be used as waste disposal fields too. This port that was connected to the highway linking to the generator was an avenue of waste gathered from all over the world, and there were no issues about the ships entering and exiting this port being called garbage ships.
There were several Jin-Pole and Gantry cranes placed at the pier, and behind them was a treatment plant with a canopy above it. It had been a month since the incinerator was shut off from operations, so only the tugboats owned by Garvey Enterprises could be seen at the pier. Loni left the office building together with Mahdi and walked into a treatment plant that looked no different from a shipping warehouse. It was different from the other treatment plants that a ship could be docked directly in this pier that was covered with a canopy—the large figure of the “Shamblo” could be seen from the pier in the midst of this endless darkness in this place which resembled a large sea cave.
The red sunset was shining in front the entrance at the front, showing the mobile armor that was mostly submerged in water. Abbas and Walid were busy with the inspections, and they only noticed her after she stepped onto the boarding ramp. She saw her brothers break off from the mechanics and run over here. They had Keffiyahs wrapped around their foreheads, and she met them in the eyes before climbing the rest of the ram and stepped on the armor that was the shoulder of the “Shamblo”. The speakers fixed in the canopy rang as the rearguard Walid climbed down the ramp, and the familiar Arabic words rang through the container hangar.
Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar. Loni heard this vague voice as she immediately kneeled down. They had to do 5 prayers every day, but Loni missed out on one as she had to guide Banagher. The mechanics at the pier too knelt down to face the distant Mediterranean Sea, the Holy Land of Mecca. Loni put her forehead at the armor of the “Shamblo”, more focused than usual.
There was a harbour in the hangar, and the exit was it was facing the East as its back faced the Atlantic Ocean. This day might be the last day she could face the Holy Land under the sun, and nobody knew whether she could do so tomorrow. As she thoroughly understood the meaning behind these words, she prayed for an umpteenth, and found a mysteriously long shadow on the harbor.
The mechanics knelt down, and the crouched figures were scattered all over the place. The shadows that stood were the “Sleeves”. These few Neo Zeon pilots that were sent over by Frontal with the marine-use “Zee Zulu”, and they did not object to living together after these few days. They looked down at the mechanics sticking their foreheads to the floor, showing a slight sneer on their faces. The practice of prayers during the week had become a rare sight in recent times, but there was no reason for them to accept the mockery of those who did not believe in God. Loni glared at the men angrily, “Don’t mind.” But she heard Madhi say this beside her.
“We can give space to those people. Just focus on increasing the number of Muslim Sons on this land. You have to give birth to many cute grandchildren for me, Loni. And you too.”
Her father continued to pray as he did not look back, and his back could be seen appearing in the dim light from the sunset shining through the window. “Yes.” Loni answered together with her brothers as she leaned her forehead onto the armor of the “Shamblo” again.
There are no Gods other than Allah, and Muhammad is the Prophet of the real God. Please come and pray, please come and get saved. Loni regurgitated the prayer that had become part of her psychology as she stared at the back of her father again. Back when her mother was still alive, the back of the father she looked up to seemed like a mountain, and the sight back then overlapped with the current scene as it vaguely warmed the body and mind for the upcoming crusade.
Marida walked down the dim night road, and the street lamps showed its unsteady lights as it showed the street trees in front of her. Her hands, legs and body felt extremely heavy. Where am I going? Why am I still walking? Her dull brain thought as she lifted her face, and she saw pedestrians walking around with heavy footsteps.
Everyone’s wearing mourning clothes. Marida thought as she noticed that she was dressed in black too. Where is this place? Who am I? She brought her hands to her face, and she could not feel her face, which troubled her. However, she could not stop, and could only continue on in the darkness. The stretch of street trees finally ended, and an open grassland appeared in front of her, littered with countless gravestones.
It was a stone cold graveyard. Marida was amidst one of the rows of men lined beside the coffins. The people looked exceptionally tall, and the coffin obviously had someone important in it, but she could not see it, and could not get close at all. The coffin would soon be buried if she did not hurry up.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…the stock eulogy a pastor would give started to ring as the coffin supported by ropes started to descend slowly into the grave. The loud pumping of the heart was like another animal altogether, and the breathing was rushed as the ripping-like pain caused her to twist her body. Marida sensed that her body and mind were separated; she was forced out of the woman in mourning clothes, who moved into the crowd. The black hat was knocked off, and the girl did not care about the blond hair that was scattered and tied as she jumped into grave, sticking onto it.
“Daddy…! Who did this to you!? Who killed you? I won’t forgive those people who killed you, those people who looked like they don’t know anything. If this is how the world is like, I’ll hate the world. I’ll use everything in my power to change the stupid world men created…!”
The girl stood at the bottom of the grave, clenching her fists till they were white as she looked at the adults looking down at her, cursing them. Is that Martha? Marida stared at the girl who was of a similar age to hers as she muttered, and at the next moment, she was grabbed from behind and restrained onto the floor.
Several hands were grabbing onto her limbs, and the hand that was reaching from above grabbed her mouth. The tunic was removed, and she was bared before she could even struggle. And then, the heavy warmth that entered her abdomen caused her to feel despair.
Ahh, it’s coming again. That thing is coming in again. That filthy man thing is stabbing into me. I have to hang on. Marida told herself in her mind. Her slightly raised breasts were being rubbed violently, her thighs were opened to the limit, and it sounded like it was her responsibility. She asked herself, But for what reason? Is it because I’m the only one alive? I’m not created for this in the first place. Even if my sisters and I are clones of the same person, my soul should be able to experience pain—
“There’s no need for you to endure.” The girl who resembled Martha spoke from behind the men lunging at her. Marida heard that voice as her body experienced the pain of being ripped open.
“Go resist them, snap the necks of those men. You have this kind of power.”
I can’t do that. It’s impossible for me. Marida could not move her suppressed limbs as she gave Martha a pleading look. Please help me, tell them to stop. Unknowingly, she reverted back to being a 10-year-old girl, and her restrained body was struggling as Martha gave her a cold observer stare. No, you have to find an answer for you. I have no interests in the weak that forced themselves to submit. That kind of woman is only a mere tool for men.The eyes that said this silently was dazzling beside the men’s shoulders. Marida again tried to exert strength on her limbs. I can’t move. My joints feel like snapping if I try to move them now…
“No good, is it? Why don’t you just wreck yourself instead of succumbing to them? You might as well destroy everything instead of letting those stupid rules bind you. I want power to destroy the rules men made. I want to dominate those men who only know how to fight till the bitter end and rebuild this world. We have this kind of authority, and you have the power I want. Go and fight, fight those people restraining you, fight those people who robbed the “light” of the world from you. Let those men who destroy each other kneel in front of the women who gave birth.”
“Light”—the only light that existed in this artificial body. The icy cold light of the abortion apparatus appeared in her mind, and she exerted strength in her limbs. She pushed aside the hands clinging onto her, and grabbed the neck of the man reaching his hands at her. The force pushing at her waist got weaker, and as the man was forced to bend up, the fingers pressing into the throat felt something hard. Kill them, take them down. Make those people who took the “light” suffer. Marida was prompted by the voice in her mind as she crushed that stiff feeling.
Crack. A blunt sound could be heard from the fingertips as the man’s neck dropped weakly. Marida got away from below the man before his spit and blood flowed out. Her shoulders were heaving up and down due to panting, and she looked for the other men. The men who restrained her and treated her violently unknowingly disappeared. There were male corpses lying all over the floor, and Martha could not be seen.
What appeared in Marida’s sights instead was a naked girl who looked to be around 10 years old, lying beside the corpse of a man, reaching her hands at the back that could not move. Master, get up. Why aren’t you moving?On hearing these sobbing words, Marida turned her eyes to the man she choked to death in a terrified manner. Suberoa Zinnerman’s face appeared there, his mouth bleeding, and his eyeballs popping out of their sockets. His eyes were widened as he laid down amidst the pile of blood, wearing that usual old leather jacket and holding the captain’s hat tightly in his hands.
“Master is broken.”
The girl who had the same appearance as Marida lifted her tear-stained face. Impossible, this is definitely a lie!! Marida clutched her head as she ran around screaming. She broke away from the deep darkness and ran about the place without knowing where was up and bottom. No matter how she ran, the darkness showed no signs of fading away, and only the sense of killing remained on her fingers, gradually intensifying that sense of realism.
The scream that was let out with utmost strength sounded like it was going to pierce through the soundproof glass, and the hands that were held down by metal cuff onto the armrests were opened wide. The eyes were widened in shock, and the fingers were convulsing, reacting in a way that should not be considered simply physiological. There was a switch of fear and despair in a human’s mind, and if the electric charge continued to flow there, this kind of radical response would occur. One would even be reminded of a certain kind of machine—
The mind and soul could only be described as a little consolation, and the emotions humans had would have to be decided by the little differences in the electric flows inside the brain. The grotesque treatment of the brainwashing device would directly change the existence of the person itself, even vivisection would not compare to it. The headgear that was filled with electrodes were fastened onto Marida’s face, and her eyes were becoming allow as her face was twisting in pain. Alberto could not help but look away from the soundproof glass that sealed the place, and it seemed that the researchers at the console of the control room did not expect her to show such an intense expression as they went pale. The monitor indicating all sorts of lifesigns was giving off an alarm, and Martha Vist Carbine was the only one with a calm expression as she stared at the specimen in the operating room, “How is it?”
“Her temperature and pulse are showing critical values. It might be better to inject some amobarbital and continue at regular intervals.”
“The hypnotizing effect seems to be weaker than expected. We have to stop now and take a short break. Watch the blood monitor, the half-life of the drug effect in Newtypes can’t be estimated accurately at all.”
Facility Chairman Bentner heard the reports from the researcher, and answered with a stern expression. Alberto secretly heaved a sigh of relief, “No.” but it was for a fleeting moment before Martha commented,
“If we stop now, we’ll have to start again, right? I don’t have such time left. Tell them to continue.”
“But the specimen will collapse in fear by itself…”
“I don’t care. If this little thing can cause her to collapse, it means that there’s no worth in getting her.”
She said this as she stared at the face of the specimen that continued to try and call out without being able to let out a voice, and nobody could argue with her about this. Bentner balanced the possibility of losing such a precious specimen and the possibility of losing his position as the facility chairman as his eyes dulled. “Continue the experiment.” The instruction rang through the control room. “But…”, the researcher looked back to question, “Just continue.” But Bentner told the researcher off as he started to operate on the console himself.
Marida’s limbs were still fastened onto the chair as her body started to arch up like it was electrocuted. The researchers gave her a stare, checking the response in her eyes, but had no intention of wiping away the saliva rising from her lips. Alberto saw Martha’s unmoved expression as he opened his mouth, but could not say anything as he lowered his head. He immediately turned around and stepped towards the door of the control room.
“Where are you going?”
Martha suddenly said without looking away from Marida. Shocked, Alberto stopped in his tracks.
“You mustn’t run away. You have to look at her properly. That’s the kind of respect you must show to her.”
These words came as a surprise to Alberto, “Respect…?” Alberto parroted the words in his mouth, and Martha did not look at him in the eyes as she continued,
“This is her battle against me. If you have any intention of taking over the Foundation, you have to watch this battle until the end. You have to see for yourself how people turn rogue.”
She looked like she found her other side from the other person as her face gave a self-mocking smile while she stared at the operating room. Martha suggested that the content of the hypnotism was to be based on herself. Another mental state was corroding her own—and if Marida was showing such a rejection because of the clash between those two, Martha would undoubtedly be fighting against her. Perhaps this was a tussle where both parties betted on their own existences. Alberto did not have the courage to look back and leave as he stared at Marida inside the operating table. Her body was like a puppet controlled by electricity, convulsing continuously as her direct and strong-willed eyes were gradually losing their light. That delicate body that stood up for him would become another thing with the same skin…
What’s with this maddening pain that’s scratching at my flesh? Alberto put his hand on his throbbing chest as he turned his bothered stare to the floor. He was not reluctant about seeing the process of someone changing, but he did not want to see Marida change. These intangible words form a doubt in his heart, and he looked back at Marida behind the glass. She was in utmost pain, but her lower chin could only be described as beautiful, and a throbbing that was stronger than before immediately passed through the hand he pressed on his chest.
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