Heavy Object

Frolaytia Capistrano smoked her long, skinny kiseru in the officer’s room of a small aircraft carrier waiting in the Indian Ocean.

She was comparing the situation surrounding Lost Angels with the reports from the intelligence agents undercover on the scene.

Talent trafficking was the sale of potential geniuses to corporations and laboratories.

The Flyaway was thought to be a part of such a plan and it had been defeated, but they had no proof it was the ringleader or that everyone involved had been destroyed.

Putana Highball, who had joined them from the Faith Organization, had reported a few additional facts.

Most of the children had been moved elsewhere.

They were supposedly going to the “Star”.

And the name Nataraja was involved.

“This isn’t enough to say much of anything.”

Frolaytia filled the room with sweet-smelling smoke as she spoke.

The information on her laptop zoomed out from a map of Lost Angels to one of the entire world. A number of red X-marks covered the map.

Those were not the locations of wars.

They were all located in large cities belonging to safe countries.

People were vanishing from large cities of the Legitimacy Kingdom, the Information Alliance, the Capitalist Corporations, and the Faith Organization. Plus, these were not just normal people.

They were all geniuses driving a field of research and their talents were in a variety of fields: biochemistry, mechanical engineering, low-temperature chemistry, aviation physics, and extreme environment research.

The victims were men, women, boys, and girls of all ages.

The talent trafficking Quenser and the others had mentioned was limited to young “potential geniuses”. This series of incidents included the elderly who had already achieved a stable position on the forefront of their field, so it felt like something else.

(This means the cable car incident may have only looked like the Capitalist Corporations style of talent trafficking. It may have been something else entirely. They might be targeting adults and the elderly and these targets just happened to be young.)

On top of that, the missing geniuses were experts in their fields, but combining their specialties together centered on a truly interesting genre.

Simply put…

“Outer s.p.a.ce… The Star, huh?”

She thought about the location of Lost Angels. It contained a major base for constructing and maintaining Objects. That brought countless subsidies and spies to the area which had ruined the rule of law there, but there was a single project that had led to the city’s initial development.

(I believe it was a large-scale launch site. Although they changed their plans once they managed to import a ma.s.s driver from the Capitalist Corporations.)

According to Putana Highball, one of the abducted children had said the others had happily gone to the “Star”.

“…”

Of course, there was no way the Legitimacy Kingdom’s surveillance network would fail to detect the launch of an unidentified rocket or shuttle. If a dot on the radar could not be identified, no one could complain if it was shot down by an Object’s anti-air lasers.

However, it was too soon to laugh this off.

Something about it bothered Frolaytia.

(Honestly, that place really is a city of freedom and disaster. It keeps finding new ways to give me a headache.)

At the very end, she focused the map on the Indian Ocean.

A giant red circle was drawn there.

“And it all has to happen when a new Object is headed our way.”

Quenser and Heivia still had not been ordered back to the rest of the battalion.

That meant some kind of trouble was going to rise to the surface before long.

“This is what you call the Lost Angels way, Putana,” said Quenser as he grabbed one of the plastic shopping baskets stacked up at the supermarket entrance. “If we wanted to, we could have the Legitimacy Kingdom fleet send us more weapons and ammunition, but if we caused any trouble with those, we’d be announcing to the world that we’re from the Legitimacy Kingdom. When we don’t know what’s going to happen or where, it’s apparently best to keep a supply of handmade explosives to erase any clues we might leave behind.”

“I see. I don’t know much about explosives, but are they that easy to make, teacher?”

Heivia was not with them.

It seemed to be the way of the world to send that jack-of-all-trades out on odd jobs.

“Plastic explosives shouldn’t be that difficult. Basically, you just have to mix a stretchy rubber adhesive in with the explosive. The problem is the fuse.”

Quenser pa.s.sed right by the perishables and moved to the spice corner.

“A fuse is needed to detonate a plastic explosive. It’s a delicate explosive, so static electricity can easily set it off. If an amateur carelessly mixes it all together with a juicer or mixer, they can blow their own face off. Switching the device on can be a fatal mistake.”

“Is it that difficult?”

“The ingredients are easy to get your hands on. You have to be careful mixing them together, but the main ingredient is this right here.”

Quenser grabbed a heavy bag from the shelf and tossed it into the basket.

“Sugar. Those disarmament treaties are completely useless.”

He grabbed a few more ingredients and the two of them made their way to the register.

After leaving the supermarket, Putana used a handgun to drive off some delinquents messing with the (stolen) motorcycle she and Quenser had been using.

“Oh, did Millia give you that as proof of her trust?”

They heard a siren from somewhere nearby, but it had nothing to do with them. If every attempted theft was reported, the police would never get anything done. It seemed something had happened at another store.

A Female Police Officer could be seen slipping out the back entrance.

“That’s just a costume,” said Putana.

“What?”

“She’s either the criminal or her job is to sneak into the scene of the crime and nab some evidence. She’s something like us.”

“Ugh… I was thinking her hips were a little too s.e.xy for a public servant.”

“More importantly, teacher.”

“What is it now, Putana?”

“Why are we wearing swimsuits?”

“I’d be too scared to mix together an explosive in that run-down motel. I asked Millia and she told me to use a car repair workshop on the beach. But the best way to get the ingredients there is to hide them in a cooler and only fishers or beachgoers would be carrying a cooler around.”

“Then why not dress as fishers?”

“A young guy and girl? Going to the sunny beach to do nothing but fish!? If anyone thought that was realistic, they’d have to be pretty d.a.m.n bookish!”

Putana had to hide her handgun on her person, so she wore a light jacket over her green bikini.

At any rate, Quenser stuffed the contents of the shopping bags into the cooler and placed the cooler’s strap over his shoulder. As always, Putana climbed on the motorcycle and he pressed up against her back.

They rode the motorcycle to the southeastern beach.

Quenser was used to riding without a helmet by now and he spoke to Putana while glancing over at the roadside restaurants.

“What do you want for lunch?”

“I feel like a spinach saag curry. It goes better with saffron rice than naan and if you add some melted margarine to the rice for flavor…”

“We had curry yesterday!”

“That was keema curry,” casually replied Putana while driving along a seaside road. “It’s completely different.”

Lost Angels was in top form as always. A quick glance around showed men with stockings over their heads running out of a bank.

“Ahh, ahh. They make it too obvious. That fat one’s the Jeweler who lost everything, isn’t it? He’s really hit rock bottom.”

“But, teacher, there’s a Worker up on that telephone pole.”

“Oh, I’ve seen him around, but I guess he’s in charge of cutting the power and camera lines.”

Nothing in that scene showed the slightest hint of interest in the World Clock or mankind’s lifespan. Of course, that made sense when they had no guarantee of their survival three minutes into the future.

They drove along a land bridge crossing a subway line running parallel to the road and finally reached the car repair workshop. The building looked like a collection of concrete and sheet metal. Putana drove the motorcycle inside after they opened the garage shutter.

A muscular man in a tank top and work pants awaited them.

“Millia’s already paid me and explained the situation. You can use whatever you want in here, but if you destroy anything, it’ll cost you extra.”

“Understood.”

“Should I run some random machinery to make a bunch of noise?”

“Our work isn’t that noisy. We’ll be quietly mixing some ingredients like someone enjoying some cla.s.sical music, so you can keep the place quiet.”

Hearing that, the repair workshop workers all left.

Quenser climbed down from the motorcycle and spread the cooler’s contents out on a random work bench.

He put on some special static-resistant gloves and used cups and scales to measure out the ingredients he placed in a mortar. He then carefully mixed them together.

Putana seemed to not have anything to do.

“Teacher.”

“If you’re feeling a sneeze coming on, hold it in. If I drop this on the floor, we’ll be blown to pieces.”

“That’s perfect. How about we have an important talk?”

He heard a metallic sound.

Putana Highball stood right in front of him and she was aiming a handgun at his chest from three meters away.

It was close range but still too far to reach out and grab the weapon.

Also, his hands were full of a delicate explosive mixture.

“Hey, Putana… This is a joke, right?”

“I was waiting for this moment,” she answered in a monotone voice.

When he heard that, an unpleasant sweat finally started pouring from Quenser’s entire body.

“Wait. Wait, Putana! There’s no place for you in the Faith Organization anymore! If you want the Legitimacy Kingdom to protect you, then you can’t do this!”

“That doesn’t matter!!”

Quenser stiffened at her explosive shout.

The mortar in his hands shook a bit.

“Do you even understand? That Object being stripped bare on the ocean is my Sarasvati!! That was a part of me! It was my life! And it is being dismantled on my own advice! Do you have any idea how humiliating that is!?”

Quenser had trouble breathing.

He looked up to heaven and confirmed that the b.a.s.t.a.r.d known as G.o.d was not going to help out a liar like him. Only then did he open his mouth again.

“Shooting me won’t bring the Collective Farming back.”

“I already told you. That doesn’t matter. My Sarasvati is being tormented without even being allowed to die and the cause of it all is standing right in front of me. What’s wrong with wanting to at least take his head as an offering?”

Putana’s hand trembled as it held the gun.

It may have been more than just anger. She may not have actually decided where she would go or what she would do after shooting Quenser.

“I had my life taken from me. Even if I’m going to come to an agreement with the Legitimacy Kingdom, I have to settle this first.”

“…”

“If I kill you, I might be punished for it. But I’m a former Elite and I have plenty of cla.s.sified Faith Organization information, while you’re just a student. Isn’t it obvious which one the Legitimacy Kingdom will choose? …Even if I kill you, I can work out an agreement, so I’m going to do it.”

“You don’t actually believe that, do you? If so, you would have pulled out your gun in the motel. Whatever you might say, you felt deep down that it would be too dangerous to act when you weren’t away from our home base.”

“Then what about you? Can you give me a single reason why I shouldn’t kill you?”

She was serious. It was not clear if her plans were as solid as she believed they were, but she was at least prepared to pull the trigger.

Once he realized that, the puny student named Quenser cast aside his own hesitation.

He threw the highly flammable mortar to the ground.

The bursting sound was much louder than a firecracker and whitish smoke filled the entire room.

“!?”

Putana flinched back and the ringing in her ears kept her from hearing the footsteps.

But even through the smokescreen she accurately sensed the gaze leaving her.

“Teacher!! Dammit!!”

With her gun in hand, she frantically ran forward through the white smoke, but Quenser was nowhere to be found in the repair workshop. He must have run outside.

Fortunately, he would be on foot while she had her motorcycle. But when she looked over, she found a screwdriver stabbed into the off-road motorcycle’s back tire.

(He sure is thorough!!)

She clicked her tongue and slipped outside through the shutter.

She saw some distinctive footprints in the fine sand of the beach next to the asphalt road. They had been made by the sandals Quenser was wearing.

She ran around the repair workshop searching for him.

She found someone in the gap between two buildings, but it was not Quenser. They looked like a Woman in a Dress, but then they tossed aside a long-haired wig. Based on the long case for a pool set leaning against the wall nearby, he(?) was probably a Sniper.

Putana crossed the land bridge.

She heard the clattering of a train on the subway below.

(Strange. He can’t drive a car or a motorcycle. He shouldn’t be able to run that far on foot, so where did he go?)

“Putana!!”

She heard a sudden shout from behind.

She turned quickly around and saw her target had jumped down below the land bridge. Or more accurately, he had jumped onto the roof of the train.

He placed his hands around his mouth like a megaphone and shouted to her.

“There’s a lot I want to talk about, but it’ll have to wait until we’re back in the usual room!!”

“Why you…!!”

By the time she climbed up onto the guardrail and tried to aim her handgun down, gazes of intense anger surrounded her.

Her caution shifted her attention from her target to her surroundings. The car repair workshop’s workers were surrounding the swimsuit girl.

The muscular man in a tank top spoke in a deep voice.

“I told you up front that destroying the equipment would cost extra, didn’t I? Let’s have a chat back in the office.”

Quenser had planned it all.

Putana Highball stuck the handgun back in her jacket’s pocket, clicked her tongue quietly, and still gave a wordless scream to release her excess anger.

Real_Time_Log.

Network_System_From_“Shuttle_NATARAJA”.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“The Legitimacy Kingdom was supposed to leave sooner than this, weren’t they?”

“That’s why it wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to retreat after the Sarasvati’s maintenance was complete or, in the worst case, after the Garuda destroyed their Object.”

“If our plans have been thrown off, we have to find a way to compensate.”

“Yes. We must eliminate any possibility of the Nataraja being discovered.”

“Let’s send out the other one. This time, we will drive the Legitimacy Kingdom away from the ocean.”

“Will that end it?”

“It will.”

“Then…”

“We will complete our escape from earth without delay. Our eternal journey in search of paradise will finally begin.”

“Now that we’ve gotten thoroughly sick of chicken burgers and la.s.si, the higher ups have given us some orders to kill some time. …Hm? What’s with this tense atmosphere?”

Quenser answered Millia with some bitter laughter.

Putana was standing next to him in her swimsuit and jacket and she glared at him so intensely he was afraid she was going to snap his neck right there.

Heivia had been working on other things, so he looked over at them in confusion.

“What’s this, Quenser? Did you push a little too forcibly for some premarital fun?”

“Of course not. It’s just that being a popular guy isn’t easy. We’ve gotten a lot closer since that last incident and she just can’t keep her smoldering gaze off of me☆”

He heard the brown girl loudly grinding her back teeth.

However, she seemed to still have enough sense to not pull her gun out in the middle of the run-down motel room.

The fact that she had waited until they were in the repair workshop to attack was proof that she did not want to start a fight here.

“A Faith Organization Second Generation Object is crossing the Indian Ocean toward Lost Angels. Our codename for it is Oriental Magic. It’s a formidable foe with an air cushion and a laser beam main cannon.”

“What about it? It isn’t going to head onto land and directly attack the city, is it?”

Their commander in a bikini top and baggy cargo pants unconcernedly nodded in agreement with Heivia’s comment.

“This city is a Faith Organization military port, so it isn’t unusual for their Objects to show up. However, our Legitimacy Kingdom fleet and the Baby Magnum are currently out at sea. Do you really think they would risk drawing our fire just to load up on supplies here? Yes, that would mean bringing an empty Object in need of supplies to the front line.”

“So it’s here for some other reason?”

For example, it could want to drive the Legitimacy Kingdom away from Lost Angels’s ocean entrance.

For example, it could want to take back or sink the captured Collective Farming that was being dismantled out at sea.

For example, it could want to quickly finish off Pilot Elite Putana Highball who had vanished with plenty of military secrets.

“Major Capistrano has reached the same conclusion and she wants some information to help confirm her suspicions. But don’t get too worried. There are others gathering information, too. We just have to do what we can. Searching through it all is their job.”

“What exactly are we going to do?”

“That’s the perfect question, Quenser. Of the information we have, there’s one thing we never managed to follow up on: the term Nataraja.”

Putana had run across that information.

It had been in the cellphone memory of one of the perpetrators behind the talent trafficking (or an incident closely resembling that) disguised as an accidental hit on the cable cars.

“It’s unknown if this has anything to do with the Oriental Magic on its way here, but it can’t hurt to have more information. If what we’re actually looking for lies elsewhere, one of the other groups will find it, so we need to focus on this. And with that said…”

Millia Newburg grabbed the projector’s remote and the ceiling filled with white light.

“We want to investigate the Nataraja, but most of those connected to it are dead or missing. We don’t have any other clues. That’s why I think we should start with him.”

A map of Lost Angels appeared on the ceiling and a complex winding route was marked on it. The red line ran from the southern Great Fence to the international airport.

“Mulqueen Sonora. He’s a ten-year-old boy with a PhD from California Biochemistry University. He’s the child Putana rescued and handed over to the unit guarding the Faith Organization base. The unit is known as the Clovers or the white collars.”

The brown girl’s eyebrows moved slightly, but Millia continued regardless.

“He’s the closest hint we have, but we can’t question him with the Faith Organization in the way. Fortunately, little Sonora is set to be transported to the airport and flown back to his safe country. That means we can get our hands on this information source if we attack his escort team.”

Heavy sounds came from behind Quenser and the others. The members of the intelligence division who had trouble hiding were known as the a.s.sault team and they were getting ready as they listened. They supplied firepower. They lived in a world where the names of armored cars and buildings they had blown up were exchanged instead of business cards.

“I have a question.” Quenser raised a hand. “I a.s.sume this will mean knocking the car over and dragging the boy out of it, but isn’t that pretty risky? To be honest, the odds of Mulqueen Sonora dying from the impact of the car rolling over are probably more than 50/50.”

“Do you have another suggestion?”

“The people staying in them may be gone, but why not check the hotel rooms? We might be able to find some information left behind in phones, computers, or journals.”

“The children who disappeared were geniuses from the Capitalist Corporations. Plus, the hotel they stayed in was owned by people they had some influence over. It was the Hotel Grand Jackpot, the biggest casino in the city. That’s Mustard Cowboy’s fortress, so if those of us from Azul Hive charged in there, we’d be starting a gang war. That sounds a lot more dangerous to me. We could even get a ton of sightseers caught up in it all.”

“…”

“Now you get it. We’ll split into two groups for the attack. One to make the attack as planned and the other to cut off their escape if things go awry. After you all secure your own transportation, go to the marked spot on your map and remain on standby. That’s all.”

Several sets of footsteps filled the room.

Quenser looked around amid them, but his awful friend Heivia was already leaving the room with Millia. Heivia was joining the a.s.sault team for the mission to abduct Mulqueen, so there was no way to speak with him without their commanding officer knowing.

(Fine, then!!)

He switched his thoughts over to Plan B and grabbed Putana’s arm in the parking lot out front.

“Putana, help me out here!”

“…What?”

Her voice was low as she replied, but he practically embraced her so he could speak with her in private.

“You saved Mulqueen Sonora, so you don’t want him to die by your hand, do you? Let’s do something about that. If we can acquire and hand over the necessary information before the a.s.sault team attacks the escort team, we can eliminate the entire justification for this attack mission. We can settle this without letting that boy die.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?”

“The Hotel Grand Jackpot. I’m going to sneak into that source of dirty money for Mustard Cowboy…for the Capitalist Corporations soldiers. What about you, Putana? Will you join me?”

“Fine. But…”

“?”

Before he could wonder what she meant, a heavy shock ran through his stomach.

He doubled over, his feet were swept out from under him, and he was slammed to the scorching asphalt.

As he struggled to breathe, Putana Highball crouched down near him, pulled out her handgun, and pressed it to the center of his forehead.

She then whispered to him in her monotone voice.

“This doesn’t mean I have forgiven you.”

“Cough, cough! I-I don’t care if you just think I’m useful. The first step is getting a means of transportation.”

This time, they were in a sky blue convertible.

In what had become the usual course of events, Putana was driving and Quenser was the baggage in the pa.s.senger seat. The engine was a little loud, but it was a comfortable ride. Quenser messed with the radio and found a pirate broadcast announcing the current odds for the black market gambling.

Putana spoke up as they pa.s.sed a large tour bus full of what looked like School Trip Students.

“That’s a PMC camouflaged as tourists. That does seem like something the Capitalist Corporations would do.”

“You’re kidding… Can you tell because they’ve been marked like how dogs go around peeing on stuff?”

Their goal as they raced through Lost Angels was not the expected attack point that Millia had given them. They were on their way to the Mustard Cowboy-run Hotel Grand Jackpot, a five star luxury hotel with the city’s largest casino.

Based on what Millia had said while bored during late night work, more money changed hands there than anywhere else in the city, but that was not due to the gambling. Basically, it was a luxury gathering spot for gang leaders to talk things out, make deals, resolve problems, and make connections. Paying bribes and depositing money in an underground bank were illegal activities, but nothing could be done if large sums of money moved from Person A to Person B in a bet at a legit casino. If they controlled who won the games of poker using code words in their conversations, the casino could be used for money laundering and deposits. To the Capitalist Corporations, the Legitimacy Kingdom was behind the times by nervously opening attaché cases in the harbor at night. Of course, that was according to the group that had failed to get their hands on that harbor.

That was just how dangerous a place the hotel was.

It would be absolutely filled with guns.

“Teacher, we’re disobeying orders, aren’t we?”

“If we pull it off, it’ll all cancel out in the end.”

“Is that the Lost Angels way of doing things?”

“No, it’s more like a summary of my entire life.”

The Hotel Grand Jackpot was in the western financial district. The district seemed filled with mirror-paneled intelligent buildings, but walls here and there were covered in yellow graffiti. That was the team color of Mustard Cowboy.

“Where do we go in?”

“The front entrance. It’s the city’s biggest casino and a luxury hotel, but it also has a restaurant and gym open to the public. It’s easier to get in as a customer than trying to sneak in.”

They were using a stolen car, so they could not leave the convertible with the valet driver at the entrance. They abandoned it in the street in front of the hotel and walked right in the main entrance.

The lobby was no different from any other hotel’s. There was the usual row of counters and a lounge selling coffee that was likely quite expensive. There were no gaudy bunny girls walking around shaking their b.u.t.ts. The money-making casino probably did not really begin until one took the escalator down to the casino section.

“This place really is run by the Capitalist Corporations,” said Putana. “The atmosphere is entirely different.”

“Is it?”

“Just to be clear, we’re from Azul Hive and they’re with Mustard Cowboy. If they decide to solve this problem as a gang rather than as the military, we won’t be protected by any treaties related to prisoners of war.”

“Wait a second, Putana. It’s that guy.”

Quenser spotted someone dangerous, but he did not jump behind a column. That would only draw more attention. He could not remember if the man’s name was John or George, but it was the former Mustard Cowboy leader they had abducted before.

The bearded man was muttering to himself as he crossed the lobby with several men in the kinds of suits stock brokers would wear.

“Honestly, I made sure to get that fake ID and handgun and here I am. I decided to steal the printing plates for the dollars or euros they rely on and taking over their business, so why am I here helping out some commoner nun?”

“Sigh. I get the feeling you could die a dozen times and it wouldn’t fix your weak mind and lack of planning. It would probably take one death per flaw.”

“Yeah? Then why are you working with me?”

The gang members pa.s.sed by while speaking back and forth.

Fortunately, they did not seem to notice Quenser and Putana. They seemed to be headed toward the escalator to the casino rather than the elevators to the hotel rooms. Quenser and Putana started toward elevator hall by cutting across directly behind those gang members.

They boarded an elevator and Putana asked a question.

“We’re supposed to be searching the missing children’s rooms, but do you know what floor they were on?”

“Floor 38.”

“Based on what?”

“In a hotel for VIPs, the options are limited when you want to rent out an entire floor for a group. It has to be an unpopular floor. The elevators wait at the very top and very bottom, so it takes the longest for them to reach the floors in the middle. Now, Putana, how are the elevators laid out in this hotel?”

“Floors 1-5 are shared, but the rest is split between 6-25 and 26-50.”

“What matters is that these people were being welcomed as VIPs. That means the hotel couldn’t let them know they were being put on an unpopular floor. The hotel would put them on a higher floor to distract them with the wonderful night scenery.”

“Which means…”

“The center of the upper section. That means Floor 38.”

The elevator stopped on their destination floor and the door parted.

“Of course, that’s all something Millia told me when we were killing time.”

They entered the hall and found a long line of doors. The place had been rented out as a group, so any of the doors would lead to the rooms those genius boys and girls had stayed in.

“Even if they’re gone, I think the doors will be locked,” pointed out Putana.

“We’ll do this the Lost Angels way.”

“Blow off the doork.n.o.b with a shotgun?”

“We’ll be a little gentler than that.”

Quenser approached the icemaker, reached behind it, and pulled out the plug.

“Teacher?”

“Hey, Putana. This isn’t a military facility that stores important secrets. In case of unforeseen trouble, they’ll prioritize the safety of their guests and have all of the rooms unlock. For example…”

Quenser stuck his hand below the icemaker and grabbed some b.a.l.l.s of dust.

He wrapped them around the power plug and stuck it back into the outlet.

This was the stereotypical cause of an electrical fire found in user’s manuals.

“When a small fire sets off the fire alarm.”

Heivia Winch.e.l.l slowly stopped a garbage truck behind a narrow alley leading to Kiwi Street. The truck looked like a rectangular hunk of steel and he was making some attack preparations along with the a.s.sault team.

One might think stolen cars were all high-riding sports cars, but there was sometimes a demand for heavier vehicles like this. They were especially important when someone wanted to make sure they knocked their target off of the road, when someone wanted to make an a.s.sault amid gunfire, or when someone wanted to abandon them in the road to change their target’s plans.

Millia Newburg sat in the pa.s.senger seat.

She was trying to suppress a grin and she had a simple reason.

“Quenser and Putana have vanished. Do you think they’re refusing the mission?”

“Don’t joke. If they refuse to submit or receive their paperwork and then they vanish, they’ll be treated as deserters. Don’t they know that?”

“Well, Quenser’s a student and Putana’s a POW. They might just barely squeak by if it comes to a serious court martial. Of course, we use corporal punishment here on the scene.”

“If that’s all it’ll get them, maybe I should’ve run off with them.”

“Ha ha. I’m sure they have some kind of plan.”

Millia reached for some caffeinated gum of unknown ownership on the dashboard and tossed a piece into her mouth.

The bright sun poured onto the street three meters ahead of them and plenty of cars pa.s.sed by, completely unaware of the attack Heivia and the others were planning. A convertible full of nearly-nude women pa.s.sed by and aPizza Deliveryman drove cheerfully by on a scooter.

To distract himself from his tension, Heivia spoke to his commanding officer.

“Come to think of it, the pizza shop in front of the station has started a new fair, haven’t they?”

“I’m surprised seeing that guy makes you hungry. He’s a spy who goes around delivering bombs in between actually delivering pizzas.”

“…”

“Unfortunately, we sometimes use his services, so we can’t just fill him with lead.”

Whatever happened, it seemed Lost Angels would always be Lost Angels.

Heivia was fed up with it all and Millia began giving instructions to the other a.s.sault team members located elsewhere.

“Kiwi Street, we’re prepared for the attack. Report on their progress.”

“Blue 03, the package has turned from Orange Street to Lemon Street.”

“Blue 18, an identical model vehicle spotted on its way to Lemon Street. I believe it’s meant to confuse us.”

“Blue 29, we’re in position. Waiting for permission to cut the package’s line.”

If they were even slightly afraid of an attack, the escort team would not take the long, long highways forming a cross as they ran east to west and south to north through the city. They would turn again and again through the net-like layout of roads running through Lost Angels in an attempt to reduce the risk of an ambush.

Could an accurate and certain attack be made in that situation?

The answer was yes.

“You have permission. Cut the package’s line.”

Millia Newburg’s tone was entirely casual.

Private matters were private matters and work was work. For that reason, this woman was willing to wield guns and set up bombs.

A high-pitched bell rang through the straight hallway.

Quenser and Putana ignored it as they grabbed the k.n.o.b to a nearby room.

The k.n.o.b turned without needing to check the electronic key.

Putana spoke after they slipped inside.

“Are you sure the fire won’t spread and cut off our escape?”

“I sabotaged the icemaker. If the fire gets too strong, it’ll melt the ice and get covered in tons of water. This isn’t going to turn into a huge fire and kill a bunch of civilians.”

Quenser looked around the room as he answered.

It seemed to be a single room because it had only one bed and the sofa by the side table was only large enough for one. There were no personal items scattered around. There was only a suitcase covered in stickers by the wall.

The suitcase was locked, but it was made of a thick synthetic fiber. He cut it open with the knife in his survival kit and checked on the contents.

“Clothes, a toothbrush, a guidebook, and…is this allergy medicine?”

“It doesn’t look like there’s a phone or computer. No camera or video games either.”

“I don’t see a journal or notebook either. It looks like they cleaned up everything before disappearing.”

Quenser and Putana exchanged a glance.

“Come to think of it, that boy said the others had happily gone to the Star.”

“Well, we need some information. If there was any digital data, it had to be something they went out of their way to hide. If we check on it, it might give us an important hint.”

“How do we do that?”

Quenser grabbed the TV remote and hit the “details” b.u.t.ton instead of tuning to a specific station.

“They checked in three days before, asked to have their clothes washed, and were charged for an off-hours cleaning service. No room service or pay TV, huh? Ha ha. What a teacher’s pet.”

“How does this help?”

“Listen, they were here for three days. If they did have a computer, they would have used the internet. They would’ve gotten withdrawal symptoms otherwise.”

Quenser checked the phone on the side table.

“It’s an IP phone. Is that to cut down on the fees? If so, there has to be a router or modem… No, or does the phone double as one?”

“What are you going to do?”

“When working late at night, Heivia was downloading some adult video and the screen froze up. He froze up, too. He had me help him get it running again, the electronic simulation division got involved in exchange for the secret address Heivia had, and we got our hands on some pretty sophisticated file recovery software. I’m gonna run that on here.”

“But this is a phone with a router, right? I doubt it has a hard disk like a computer does.”

“Are you serious? Then how do you think the router’s settings file gets updated?”

He used a cable to connect his military handheld device to the IP phone and a ton of letters and numbers filled the small screen in no time.

“See? Traces of all the data they looked at is still in the temporary files! I’m never gonna trust public internet again!!”

“You learned all of this from Millia, didn’t you? Quit looking so proud of yourself. You’re embarra.s.sing yourself.”

Before long, the letters and numbers had been converted to human-readable data.

The child must have pa.s.sed the time surfing the internet because several URLs were apparent. It was all on topics that did not paint humanity in a positive light: environmental pollution, the negatives of clean wars, financial problems, racial discrimination, the estimated remaining amounts and consumption rates of various resources, and the World Clock.

“It looks like they visited SNSs and forums too. Looks like I can’t do much about that without the IDs and pa.s.swords used.”

“You’re looking at all that, you peeping tom?”

“Just to be clear, if we don’t get any useful information here, the car carrying Mulqueen Sonora will be attacked and he has more than a 50/50 chance of dying.”

He could not access the sites the child had accessed, but he could browse the data that was uploaded to them. There was quite a lot of it and the file was in a special format.

“What…is this? This is pretty specialized software used when drawing blueprints.”

“Meaning?”

“Don’t you find it odd? This is used to the store the data for Object designs.”

There was so much data that it took some time for the small handheld device to open the file. They could only wait for the “loading” bar to slowly fill up.

Finally, the data was displayed.

It was indeed a diagram.

But…

“What…the h.e.l.l?”

Quenser was dumbfounded.

This was not an Object.

It was shaped like the mantas he had seen on a doc.u.mentary.

But if the scale given was accurate, it was over ten thousand meters long.

Heivia waited in a garbage truck at the entrance to the alley off of Kiwi Street and he heard sirens in the distance.

The package’s line had been cut.

What that code phrase meant was simple

Reports from the a.s.sault team continued.

“Blue 09, I’ve finished cutting the traffic light’s cable.”

“Blue 17, the water pipe has burst.”

“Blue 34, the fake traffic accident has been set up at the corner of Lemon Street and Grape Square. Abandoning our vehicles and retreating.”

Mulqueen Sonora’s escort team would be most afraid of coming to a stop. Even if the windows were bulletproof and the tires were stuffed with sponge, a door could be forced open if they were surrounded and violently attacked.

That was why Heivia and the rest of Azul Hive were causing trouble around the city.

That would create traffic jams on the roads they wanted.

To avoid a situation where they could not move forward or back and were pretty much asking to be attacked, the escort team would definitely avoid any traffic jams. If the routes through the network of roads were limited, the chance of making an attack would go up.

Their enemies were experts too, so they would know someone was setting them up.

But they would have no choice but to go along with it.

“Blue 11, the package has moved from Lemon Street to Kiwi Street. Ten minutes until the expected point.”

“Understood, 11. Heivia, start the engine.”

“Blue 12, beginning action. Urging the package forward from behind.”

“Dammit. Are the deserters not going to pull off a miracle after all!?”

Heivia turned the key as he spat out those words.

Millia was looking a little worried, too.

“I’ll tell you when to go. You just have to push the accelerator down to the floor. We’ll slam into the first car from the side and bring the entire escort team to a stop. The rest of the a.s.sault team will attack the back car to keep them from backing up and we’ll help ourselves to the delicious toppings squished in the middle of the sandwich.”

It was a simple enough plan, but that was the ideal outcome.

A single mistake or unfortunate coincidence and it would all fall apart.

It may have changed form somewhat, but it was still a military action and that meant loss of life was possible.

Quenser and Putana looked at the unknown blueprints they had found in the hotel room. The mysterious machine was shaped like a ten thousand meter manta, which made it larger than an Object.

Notes were written at various points:

Anti-cosmic ray coating.

Ion engines.

Solar power panels.

Circulating environment.

2500 person capacity.

Low-temperature extreme environment preservation pods.

Seed and embryo freezing technology.

“The Star.”

Putana Highball seemed dumbfounded, but she somehow forced out a quiet voice.

“That boy mentioned that everyone went to the Star. If so, is this…?”

“An artificial planet.” Quenser gulped. “This is on an entirely different level from the rockets and shuttles of the past. This is a colossal s.p.a.ceship with a proper living environment that’s meant to circle the sun like a needle on a record, just as Mars or Jupiter do. No, maybe the solar system is just for practice and they’re actually planning to join another star system. If they have cold sleep tech, they can ignore the time it takes to get there.”

Technically, a planet needed to rotate to have a stable orbit. With this, there would be a risk of slipping out of orbit, but it was possible it could make corrections with its various engines.

It mostly secured energy from sunlight, but it seemed it was also designed to terraform the satellites of other planets for various kinds of fuel and resources. There was even a report on growing potatoes and corn for biofuels. That was the basis of the Re Terra technology built into Putana’s Object.

“But is this even possible?” Putana looked dubious. “This giant ‘Star’ is ten kilometers long. Even if they did construct it, wouldn’t its own weight prevent it from escaping the earth’s gravity?”

“There’s a suggestion here about building it in satellite orbit, but I doubt that would work either. After all, it’s just too big. It would be torn up by all the debris up there before it was finished. Holes would be torn in the hull as soon as it was made and new holes would be made as soon as they patched up the old ones. Even if they did complete it, it would be too weak and it would break apart pretty quickly.”

“Then what is this?”

“I don’t know,” said Quenser. “But it looks the word Nataraja is definitely related to this artificial planet.”

The blueprints had completely unrelated thoughts written alongside the necessary information.

It was almost like someone had been doodling in the margin of their notebook while bored in cla.s.s.

It said, the following:

Humanity will destroy itself in another three hundred years. If they want to die, that’s fine by me, but I don’t want to be dragged down with them.

It will all be over soon.

Once the Nataraja is complete, we can overcome even the worst Kali Yuga. We were chosen, so we will escape this earth and all its problems.

“Teacher, this might be a form of eschatology just like Armageddon.”

“Eschatology?”

“Kali Yuga is the age when the teachings of the G.o.ds have been lost and it refers to modern times. When it ends, all of human civilization is destroyed and Nataraja…that is, Lord Shiva burns it all away to make a brand new world.”

It was not clear what all that referred to in reality, but looking at the plans for that giant “Star” was not going to help calm them down.

“Let’s go over what we know.” Quenser sat directly on the side table. “The missing geniuses are fed up with modern society and all of its problems. If possible, they want to leave the earth in search of a new paradise.”

“And the result is this Star?”

“They used their fields of research to help construct this giant artificial planet. They may have received pa.s.sports to the new world in return. The cable car incident was not talent trafficking. It wasn’t a kidnapping. It was an act for the children to disappear.”

“It’s true clever weapons developers wouldn’t be allowed to leave or defect so easily.”

“And based on what I’ve heard from Frolaytia and Millia, these geniuses are turning up missing in safe countries all over the world, so it isn’t just the cable car incident. The plans for the artificial planet said it can holds 2500 people. In the worst case, they might have that many geniuses working with them.”

“In other words, this problem goes beyond Lost Angels.”

“They might have built a secret network spanning all four world powers. And it would have to slip past the surveillance to connect the geniuses surrounded by the military and research facilities.”

This was a plan to put a great number of geniuses in cold sleep and send them outside the solar system.

But could the artificial planet realistically escape earth’s gravity after growing so large?

And how was this related to the Oriental Magic approaching the Indian Ocean?

At that moment, the fire alarm suddenly stopped ringing.

Putana looked up in surprise and glared at the door.

“I sense eight gazes filled with killer intent… They’re coming this way!”

“Is this as far as we get!?”

Quenser yanked out the handheld device’s cable.

He continued operating the device while looking at the small screen, so Putana spoke up in annoyance.

“What are you doing!?”

“A lot of the data couldn’t be converted to text, so I’m having the program decrypt the rest. How much it can do with one click is up to the electronic simulation department’s secret weapon, though!”

After finishing the necessary process, he shoved the device in his pocket and asked a question of his own.

“Putana, you have a gun, right? Head to the emergency staircase. They should have an emergency escape tube there. Use that.”

“What about you?”

“I’d like to fight too, but a certain someone kept me from making my fuses. Can you take responsibility for that?”

She clicked her tongue and made her way to the room’s door.

She fired a few times before turning the k.n.o.b and kicked the hole-filled door into the hallway.

She ignored the collapsed thug spraying blood everywhere with a submachinegun in his arms and she fired further down the hallway.

“Let’s go, teacher!”

“We can’t use the elevator. Get to the emergency stairs!”

The Hotel Grand Jackpot was Mustard Cowboy’s (and therefore the Capitalist Corporations’) home. They would keep sending in reinforcements during a long, drawn-out battle, so they would eventually overrun Putana with pure numbers.

That was why she sprayed bullets to make them flinch back rather than trying to kill them all.

The two of them ran down the hallway while the enemy could not move.

The emergency staircase was attached to the outside of the building. It looked bad and there was a risk of drunks jumping off of it, but if the emergency stairs were inside the building, they would become a giant chimney during a fire and there was a danger of everyone using them dying of carbon monoxide poisoning. They were on the outside to prevent that.

Quenser jumped down to the landing and removed the latch on a metal box.

He pulled out a seventy centimeter wide tube made of synthetic fibers. He attached the end to the stairway railing and threw the rest of it over the edge.

“Putana, hurry up!”

“We’ll stand out too much if we go down in that!! They’ll be waiting for us at the bottom and it will take over three minutes until we reach the ground, so if they unhook the top partway through, we’ll be in a freefall!!”

“That doesn’t matter! Hurry over here!!”

An unpleasant sweat was collecting on Heivia’s hands as he held the garbage truck’s steering wheel.

Millia must have been used to this sort of situation because she looked nervous but not worried.

The rest of the a.s.sault team was giving reports over the radio.

“Blue 12, the package is still on its way down Kiwi Street. There are no unrelated cars in between us anymore.”

“Blue 20, I will keep any unrelated cars from getting in.”

“Blue 15, 12 was. .h.i.t. Continuing action.”

“Blue 07, finished picking up 12. Withdrawing. Good luck.”

“Here they come,” said Millia. “At worst, you can miss the first car. Just make sure you hit the escort team and stop them in the middle of the road. That will leave the package at a standstill.”

“…”

“Calm down, boy. Don’t be so afraid of messing up that you make yourself mess up.”

“If I mess up here, a civilian will die! And a ten-year-old kid at that! I’m confident I can pull this off, but a human life is resting on my shoulders!! Of course I’m going to be breathing a little heavily!!”

“If you don’t like worrying, then try not to think about anything that isn’t absolutely necessary. Tuning your brain is a standard technique for a soldier.”

The time approached.

Heivia clenched his teeth and squeezed his hands around the steering wheel.

They looked like thugs in flashy suits, but they were actually spies from the Capitalist Corporations. They had gathered on the landing of the hotel’s emergency staircase.

They heard sc.r.a.ping cloth coming from the opening to the emergency escape tube.

Someone was sliding down it.

One of the men removed the safety device on the railing and threw it out into the air.

As there was a weight partway down, the synthetic fabric fell straight down to the asphalt without the wind carrying it.

A soft thud rang out and they contacted the team on the surface via radio.

“We’ve eliminated the intruder. Just to be sure, check the body on the surface.”

“Blue 15, beginning countdown at 100.”

“Heivia, the package is less than five kilometers away. They’re closing in at twenty-five meters a second. Are you ready!?”

“Dammit!! I’ll do it! I just have to do it, right!?”

Quenser and Putana were hiding in a room one floor down that’s lock had also been released.

“Won’t they figure out pretty quickly you only dropped a fire extinguisher down?”

“It doesn’t matter if they figure out the trick. We just have to make sure we’re long gone by then.”

They had put on the clothes they found in the closet and generally changed their hairstyles in front of the mirror. Quenser was wearing a white suit and Putana was wearing a dress with a miniskirt so short her b.u.t.t was just about visible. The poor taste made it obvious what kind of guests had been staying in this room.

They slowly left the room.

The elevators had recovered, so they boarded one and made their way to the first floor.

The gla.s.s-covered elevator shaft gave them a view of some thugs riding another elevator straight up, but it was too late.

“Okay, we need to report this. We’ll spoil the others’ fun with our information on the artificial planet.”

“…”

Putana’s eyes sharpened. She may have been planning to put a bullet in Quenser’s forehead as soon as she was certain Mulqueen Sonora was safe.

However…

“Millia? Millia! What’s going on!?”

“Can you not get through?”

“It’s not just that the radio isn’t reaching. There’s more to this.”

The quick elevator reached the first floor entrance.

As some thugs rushed to the landing site of the outdoor emergency escape tube, Quenser and Putana hurried out the main entrance. They could tell Mustard Cowboy was as confused as they were. The men were looking down at their cellphones and radios and repeatedly messing with the settings.

Whether he had been successful or not, the bearded former leader they had seen before was walking on the road out front.

“See? I told you the printing plates for the money were in that fortress of a casino! Of course, that fire alarm did kind of save our a.s.ses!”

“That’s our boss. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.”

“I’ve got that nun to take care of, so let’s scram.”

Right in front of Quenser and Putana’s eyes, they hopped into the sky blue convertible parked on the curb and started the engine.

“That’s our car!”

“Wait, teacher. We don’t want a firefight here.”

They checked their surroundings while leaving the hotel on foot and spotted a Hot Dog Stand van parked on the curb. It must have been overhauled in a hurry recently because the frame was clearly quite old and falling apart. The man in the driver’s seat was raising his middle finger toward the blue sky.

(Huh? Isn’t that the guy who steals device data over Wi-Fi?)

Quenser checked where the man was looking.

“There we go.”

“?”

“There’s a UAV flying through the northern sky. That thing is jamming us!”

“But that’s a high-grade RC. If it was using an ECM, wouldn’t it lose control, too?”

“Not if it’s using lasers to communicate or if it’s autonomously controlled by a program. Also, that attack in the hotel was strange. Someone may have sent an email to the guards to get it started.”

“Someone related to the Star?”

“I can’t think of anyone else who would be worried about information on the Nataraja getting out.”

Regardless, if they did not get the information to Millia Newburg, the others would continue as planned and attack Mulqueen Sonora. No matter how perfectly they prepared, they could not guarantee the safety of that mission.

“It isn’t armed, so this is pure electronic warfare. …Putana, can you shoot it down?”

“Don’t joke. This is a 9mm automatic.”

“Then we’ll have to find some other way.”

Quenser looked around and ran out into the road.

The sound of screeching brakes filled the sunny city.

“Putana, the driver’s seat!!”

She shoved her gun forward as told. A man in his early twenties was visible on the other side of the windshield. He went pale, let go of the steering wheel, and raised his hands. Luckily, he was not the type to take a gamble on accelerating to knock them out of the way.

Quenser forced open the driver’s side door and grabbed the young man’s collar.

“Sorry, but you’ll be helping us.”

“W-with what?”

“I know this Ice Cream Truck sends out a pirate broadcast.”

Quenser looked to the windowless metal box on the back of the truck.

The young man’s face was soaked with sweat.

“Ha…ha ha. What on earth are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. You were spreading half-truths during that cable car incident, so how about I throw you out in front of the Baby Magnum? If you’re really an innocent civilian, the Princess won’t crush your truck. But if you’re guilty and an expert soldier, she won’t see any reason not to kill you as an enemy combatant.”

“Heh…eh heh…eh heh heh. Wh-what would you like?”

“There are two ways of breaking through radio jamming: choosing a bandwidth not blocked or breaking through with an even more powerful signal. You can handle that, can’t you?”

Even back in the alley, they could faintly hear the target’s engines. The a.s.sault team was keeping them moving from behind, so their tires were screeching in their hurry.

Heivia would slam his garbage truck in at a right angle to cut them off.

That would end it.

If successful, they would get valuable information. If they failed, they would turn an innocent ten-year-old boy to mincemeat.

Was this really worth the risk?

Was this information worth betting a human life like a chip on the poker table?

“…”

Heivia slowly breathed in and then exhaled.

“10, 9, 8…”

The countdown continued.

It felt like grains of sand falling down the disturbing hourgla.s.s that measured someone’s remaining life.

His eyes had fallen to the steering wheel, so he looked back up. He stared at Kiwi Street up ahead.

His left foot held the clutch halfway down, he removed his right foot from the brake pedal, and the sole of that foot stroked the surface of the gas pedal.

He prepared to slam that foot down.

But just before he did…

“Kssshhh!! This is Blue -1! We have acquired the information from the Hotel Grand Jackpot! I repeat, we have acquired the information from the Hotel Grand Jackpot! Ksshh. You’ll probably only get this same information if you attack the escort team!! I recommend a change of plans!! Ksshh!!”

A strange wrinkle came over Heivia’s brow.

(That idiot has to contact us now of all times!?)

He was not sure what to do. Their cooperation had been thrown off and that kind of minor thing could lead to accidentally killing Mulqueen Sonora.

He frantically glanced over at Millia, but she remained silent.

The engine sounds of the escort team had almost arrived.

“5, 4, 3…”

The countdown continued.

Heivia clicked his tongue and stepped on the gas pedal. The garbage truck finally began to move. If he lifted his left foot, the clutch would fully connect and the truck would burst forward into Kiwi Street. It would crash into the lead car from the side and the bulletproof cars carrying the ten-year-old child would crash into it from behind one after another.

“…2, 1…”

He heard a dull sound as Millia Newburg bit her lip and shouted into the radio.

“Abort mission!!”

Heivia and the others watched the group of black cars drive past.

Heivia pressed down the clutch at the very last second. The truck engine roared fruitlessly and it moved no further forward.

In that instant, his eyes briefly met with those of the boy innocently pressing his hands against the window to peer out at the scenery.

Before they could begin to make an emotional connection, it all vanished into the flowing scenery.

Still, guilt very nearly broke the dams holding back Heivia’s tears.

Finally, the rest of the a.s.sault team contacted them.

“Blue 15, change of orders confirmed. Breaking away from behind the escort team.”

“Blue 07, awaiting permission to support 15.”

“Blue 15, this is only my personal opinion, but this is a weight off my shoulders. Thank you.”

Millia switched off the radio without saying anything back.

She leaned forward, sc.r.a.ped her forehead on the da