AN: Because every anime must have one, and we sure as hell didn't get one in the show.
This chapter is dedicated to all the deer of Module 77. Dead or alive.
Year 48 of the True Era: 19 years before the opening of Sakimori High
It was one of those days when everything in the world seemed gray.
The sky was overcast with gray clouds, their dismal color reflected by gray waves in the sea below. Men clad in heavy gray coats went about their business, striding with gray rubber boots over the gray weathered planks of the small gray crabbing boat.
Hisasi held back a sigh as he looked across the choppy monochrome waters of Suruga Bay, back toward land. Even the snow-capped peak of Mount Fuji was gray instead of white today. The wind gusted across the deck, causing him to shiver.
An unseasonably cold front was blowing in from the south, and Hisasi reflected that it didn't feel much like summer at all. He was spending his vacation working alongside his uncle on a crabbing boat, trying to make a few yen. It was his third day on the job, and already he was regretting his decision. What was a city boy like him doing out here?
"Cold enough for ya, Hisa?" Uncle Koei clapped him heartily on the shoulder. "It's alot better than the muggy weather out in Tokyo! Just feel that breeze! Invigorating!"
"Invigorating..." Hisasi agreed weakly. "Really, uh, gets your blood flowing."
"Doesn't it?" Uncle Koei said. "You ready to work?"
"Yeah." Hisasi followed his uncle to the rear of the ship and took up one end of the rolled up net. "Ready to go."
They worked for the rest of the morning. Before he'd started on the job, Hisasi really hadn't known what to expect from a crabbing boat. He'd had a vague idea in his mind of something like the ARUS crab fishers he'd seen online, huge industrial ships with massive refrigerated holds, dropping steel crab pots from great powered winches, going on voyages that lasted for days or even weeks at a time... but the ship his uncle worked on was a far smaller affair.
The Kanemaru was ancient, a decades-old relic passed down to its current captain by his father. It had a crew of eight, including Hisasi, and instead of crab pots it used a trawling net which deployed from the rear of the ship. They set off early each morning and returned at night, and their daily catch was meager at best.
The catch for today, however, was worse than the past two days Hisasi had been on the crew. They trawled for hours, but only brought up eight spider crabs, two of which were too small to keep. Finally the captain called for a halt, and the Kanemaru started to make its way further away from land as the crew broke for lunch.
"Where are we headed, Uncle?" Hisasi asked as he polished off his onigiri.
"Out into deeper waters," Uncle Koei replied. "Should be better out there. The crabbing closer to land's not as good as it used to be..."
Too polite to interrupt, Hisasi endured as his uncle launched into one of his 'in my day' stories about how the crabbing was so good and plentiful in his youth. He nodded and made the proper noises, but his thoughts turned to the stars. Too many JIORans, particularly of the older generation, were too obsessed with bygone times. With JIOR Sphere One's framework nearly complete in the sky above their very heads, who really cared about depleted fishery stocks here on crummy old Earth?
Finally they reached deeper waters and went back to work. The crabbing here was better than the shallow waters where they started, and Hisasi worked alongside the other crewers for several hours, before something odd happened to the trawling net.
Hisasi was taking his turn at the hand crank for the net, slowly taking it in as others pulled fish and crabs and the odd bit of rock and debris from it. Suddenly, the net grew taut, the crank refusing to spin any further. The men working the net paused and turned to look at him as the net stopped moving.
"It's stuck," Hisasi stated the obvious.
One of men shouted towards the front of the ship, while the other man nodded, making a winding motion with his hand. "Give it a little slack, and we'll try and get it untangled."
Hisasi obediantly fed a little slack into the line. The men grabbed the bottom of the net and shook it back and forth, but the net refused to budge. After a few minutes, the captain came to the rear of the ship. He took a look at the stuck net and shrugged. "Go ahead and give it a good yank. We'll just mend the rip after we turn in."
Hisasi tried to turn the crank, but it wouldn't go. Uncle Koei came over, putting his large weather-beaten hands over Hisasi's. "Ready? On three. One, two, THREE!"
They jerked on the crank together, and with a shudder the mechanism turned, the net coming in once again. Hisasi continued to turn the crank, waiting for the section of damaged netting to come into view. But the thing that rose from the gray waters of the bay was completely beyond his expectation. One of the men whistled as he saw it, and the other danced back reflexively, as if it might bite him.
Entangled in the net was a piece of jagged, twisted metal, about the length of a man's arm. Hisasi slowly moved over to the net, gingerly disentangling the object from the rope mesh. The shard was lighter than he expected, its surface a deep shimmering blue, as if all the color missing from the sky and ocean on that day was concentrated within it. A craggy crust of barnacles clung to it in places, but the shard's smooth azure sheen wasn't pitted or corroded, as he would have thought a piece of metal from the bottom of the sea should be.
As he turned it over, he could see some kind of text on its surface, written in an unknown script. The text glowed like bright blue flame, hovering centimeters above the surface of the metal. He squinted, brushing his fingers over the letters, sure it was some kind of optical illusion- -but no, the letters weren't incised or cut into the material of the shard, or even printed on its surface. They floated free like a hologram, and his fingertips passed through them without any sensation or resistance.
The captain's shadow fell over him. "What do you have there?"
Wordlessly, Hisasi held up the shard. The captain took it from him, examining it in much the same way as Hisasi had. Uncle Koei came up beside him, and the captain looked over at him. "Koei. You know what this is?"
Uncle Koei shook his head. "Can't say I do."
"It's salvage," the captain breathed. "Get me the GPS coordinates."
"Okay, turn your head to the side, tilt your face up a little. Arms behind your head. That's right. Now, sultry! Sultry! Oh that's perfect!"
Saki obediantly turned her face slightly away, half-lidding her eyes as she gazed at the camera, parting her lips slightly. The camera's shutter clicked several times.
"That's enough of that one," the photographer instructed. "Next we'll take some over in the surf."
Saki surreptitiously scratched at her left armpit as she sank down to her knees in the gently lapping waves. She'd gone over her pits, legs, and bikini line meticulously this morning in preparation for the shoot, and the skin under her left arm was now itchy.
'Would have thought the Kamitsuki healing factor would fix that, but apparently nothing cures shaving irritation...'
She was on the beach, dressed in the Carmilla bikini Taylor had sent her a picture of yesterday. A photographer and a lighting crew were doing their thing as Taylor watched from the side, ready with a fruity beverage in case she got thirsty.
"Press your arms in a bit, so they push your breasts up a little..."
Saki did as the photographer said, feeling subtly dirty. Had she been too long away from the business? In the past, she'd been clinically detached from this sort of thing, maybe even a little pleased that somewhere someone was ogling her and increasing her fame that much more. But now she just felt a little queasy.
The photographer took her through a series of poses on her front, then had her lie down on her back in the surf.
Saki shuddered as the surf washed against her, suddenly chilled to the marrow of her bones in a way that had nothing to with the cold water. The sand on her bare back reminded her uncomfortably of hard-packed earth from another time and place. And the lapping water reminded her of... other things. Her heart was pounding and she struggled to just lay there instead of curling up into a ball and screaming.
'Dammit, not now... please not now...'
Dimly, through the roaring of her pulse pounding in her head, she could hear the photographer's voice.
"What're you doing? Come on, Rukino-san! Pay attention, we're on the clock here!"
"Hey, hang on. I think there's something wrong with her..." Taylor interrupted. He stepped over to Saki and bent over her in concern. "Hey, kid, you're shivering. You okay?"
Saki gave him a brief shake of her head.
Taylor thought for a moment, then turned to the photographer. "Alright," he said. "Shoot's over. You got enough shots to work with, right?"
"Yeah," the photographer said slowly, seeming now to understand something was wrong. "Think so."
'Interrupting a shoot for something like this? I'm a professional, dammit! Can't let this beat me!'
"Wait..." Saki gritted out, forcing her trembling limbs to stillness. "We're finishing the shoot."
"You sure?" Taylor asked.
"Yeah." Saki forced a smile, sitting up. "Show's gotta go on. Just gimmie a moment..."
"Take all the time you need," Taylor said, handing her her drink.
"Thanks..." Saki took a big slurp through her pretzel straw. Banana and strawberry shake. The cool thick liquid soothed her nerves a little. She took a deep breath and nodded. "Right. Let's get back to it!"
The shoot was finally over. Saki perched in her springy beach chair, a fluffy beach towel draped over her shoulders as she watched the photography crew pack up. Her shake was down to the dregs now, and as she started to set it down, Taylor reached out a hand from his position standing beside her. Saki handed it off to him with a quiet "thanks."
"No problem." Taylor put the cup into a plastic bag. "I know how you JIORans get about litter. Don't worry, I'll keep your beaches clean!"
"That's a stereotype..." Saki shot him a dirty look.
"Naw, it's true!" Taylor insisted. "I saw your campus. Pretty nice with a bunch of kids are calling the shots. You shoulda seen my high school back in the day. Cigarette butts everywhere."
"Hmph," Saki grunted. "I'm just saying, don't think every JIORan's like that. I skip out on cleaning duty all the time."
"Yeah, yeah, you're a filthy slob," Taylor agreed good-naturedly, before lowering his voice. "So, uh... if you don't mind my asking, back there, anxiety attack?"
"Anxiety attack?" Saki's head whipped around. "Why do you say that?"
"I have a brother-in-law who was in the military." The usual jovial tone was missing from Taylor's voice. "He fought in the New Guinea conflict two years ago. The Dorssians pulled this ambush... or covert op, what have you, at a base there, and five thousand good men lost their lives. You heard about that?" When Saki didn't answer, he continued. "My brother was one of the survivors. But he was never the same after. The army sent him home cause he couldn't fight anymore, on account he'd have these... attacks. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, the doctors say. What happened to you just now, seemed similar to me."
Saki's throat was dry despite the shake she'd just finished. "I see..." she said awkwardly. PTSD? It might very well be, when she thought about it.
'And so what if it is? It's not like I can see anyone about it, not without giving away our secrets...'
"And I know you've been through your share of fighting," Taylor continued. "So if you ever want someone to talk to, or need a therapist or something, I can hook you up."
"Thanks, Taylor," Saki said politely. "But I think there's some misunderstanding. I was just cold there, that's all."
Taylor studied her a moment before laughing. "Well then! That's a load off my mind. But you come talk to me if you ever have any problems, y'hear?" He looked over at the photographers. "They're about done there, so what say you head on back to the changing room so we can get outta here?"
"You go on ahead," Saki took a deep breath. "I'm gonna stay down here a little longer." She didn't feel much like going back up to Sakimori just to stay alone in her room at the moment. At least being at the beach in the open air was better.
"Alright," Taylor handed her a baggie. "Here's your clothes! I'll send you the pictures we pick for the set later."
Saki watched as Taylor and the photography crew went on their way. She sat in her chair for a while, idly wiggling her toes in the wet sand and thinking of nothing in particular. She'd just about decided to also leave when the faint sound of voices came drifting over the water.
She looked down the beach towards the source of the voices. There, making their way out of the trees, was a group of students in casual clothes. Some were dressed in bathing suits. Among them she spotted Yamada, flame-colored hair towering above the others, as well as Inuzuka-senpai's mop of mossy green hair. Even the pale purple locks of the Dorssian called A-Drei. And there, gestulating excitedly towards the crowd, was Shoko-san, wearing a baggy t-shirt and shorts.
'What is that, a beach party?'
Down the beach, students started opening large sun umbrellas and planting them in the sand. Shoko-san cast about with one hand shading her eyes, chancing to look in Saki's direction.
'Ah. She saw me.'
Shoko-san was now making broad 'come hither' motions toward her. Saki shrugged and headed down the beach. She hadn't really spoken to the energetic girl since, well, before they'd landed on the moon, and it felt a little awkward. But Shoko-san came running to meet her, her face as open and friendly as ever.
"Rukino-san! It's great to see you! Wanna join us?"
"Uh... sure..." Saki let Shoko-san escort her over to the crowd. "What's going on?"
"It's a beach party!" Inuzuka-senpai declared.
"Yup yup!" Shoko-san nodded excitedly. "I thought since everyone was working so hard since the Blackout, we deserved a little break! And when I heard you were doing a photoshoot on the beach from Senpai, it just sounded perfect! Hold still for a second!" She pulled out her cellphone and snapped a quick picture of Saki.
"Uwaaah!" Saki waved her hands. "I don't want you taking commemorative photos of me!"
"It's not a commemorative photo! It's for Akira-chan!" Shoko-san protested.
"Huh?" Saki hadn't been expecting that. "Did she ask for pictures of me in the Carmilla bikini? I don't..."
"No, not specifically," Shoko-san explained. "Actually she didn't ask for any pictures. But since she couldn't be here in person, I figured I'd give her the blow-by-blow with pictures! It's the next best thing!"
"Oh." Saki hadn't realized Shoko-san and Akira-chan were so close. "That's, uh, pretty nice of you."
"No, not really! Just the least I could do for a friend!" Shoko-san peered over at the beach umbrellas. "Oh, they look about done!" Saki blinked as Shoko-san pulled off her t-shirt and stepped out of her shorts just like that, revealing a rather skimpy pink bikini underneath. A megaphone was suddenly in her hand as if it had appeared from nowhere.
"OKAY, EVERYONE! LET'S GET THE ACTIVITIES STARTED!" Shoko-san trumpeted.
Shrugging to herself, Saki followed Shoko-san. She wasn't particularly interesting in the beach party, but it beat sitting around alone at home surfing the net.
"Come on, Senpai! To your left!" Akaishi-san shouted as she snapped a picture with her phone.
Raizo laughed as Kyuma obediantly rotated left, the bamboo blade of his practice sword swinging above the watermelon, as indignant squeals rose from the crowd.
"Hey! No helping, Midori-chan!"
"No fair! If I had a spotter I would've hit it!"
"Sorry! Sorry! It just slipped out!" Akaishi-san withered away.
"Here I go!" Kyuma raised the practice sword above his blindfolded head, then brought it slicing down. "Yaaaaah!"
The tip of the bamboo blade crashed down to the ground, raising a respectable plume of sand- -but missing the watermelon by inches. "Ah, dammit!" Kyuma groaned good-naturedly at his miss, slipping his blindfold off.
"Awwwww, it was a good try, Senpai!" Shoko-chan said, claiming the practice sword from Kyuma and holding it up. "Who's up next, Marie-chan?"
Nobi-san checked her phone. "Yamada Raizo."
"It's Thunder!" Raizo roared as he took the practice sword from Shoko-chan, making sure to get a good look at where the watermelon was relative to his feet.
"Good luck!" Shoko-chan held out the bandana they were using as a blindfold. Raizo bent down so she could tie it around his head. "Since Midori-chan helped Kyuma-senpai with his attempt, you can have a spotter too if you want, Thunder! But they can only tell you one thing!"
"I got your back, Thunder!" Tatsumaro volunteered from the sidelines.
"Nah, it's cool!" Raizo declared, turning his blinded face towards where Tatsumaro's voice had come from. "I don't need a spotter! I got guts on my side!"
"Yeah! Guts!" Shoko-chan cheered. "Well then, girls, do your thing!"
Raizo grinned in enjoyment as many small feminine hands took hold of his arms and shoulders as they spun him around. "Spin! Spin! Spin!" The crowd chanted.
"Aaaaaaaand... stop!" Shoko-chan cried. "Okay, Thunder! Show us whacha got!"
The hands released Raizo, and he took a deep breath. The world was spinning around him and being unable to see made the disorientation worse, but he thought he had a good idea of where the melon was. He turned towards where he suspected and went into a kendo stance. The other students were making a hell of a racket, but he ignored them, raising his blade and bringing it down in one smooth motion. "ORRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The splat of the melon smashing apart sounded in his ears as the impact reverbrated satisfyingly up his arms. A few drops of wetness splashed his bare feet, and he raised the practice sword above his head and bellowed in triumph, expecting the other students to cheer at his success.
Instead, he only heard silence.
"Hey, guys? Some applause?" He grumbled, carefully sliding off his blindfold so it wouldn't mess up his hair. "How bout a cheer for the win-"
Raizo trailed off as he saw what had happened. He'd hit the melon so hard he'd pulverized it, and bits of red fruit and black seeds were now splattered over the students gathered around him. Rukino-san, who'd been standing nearly in front of him when he'd made his strike, was particularly messy. Pink juice dripped from her face and wet hair, and her funky cosplay bikini was streaked with pulp. She was glaring at him in fury.
"Oops."
"Lowenglitzen Test Sequence One... Begin in ten, nine, seven..."
Soichi pulled the tinted goggles down over his eyes.
The cool female voice continued. "Three, two, one, fire."
Even behind his tinted goggles, Soichi was forced to squint as a searing blue-white light blazed from the wall port of the cavernous zero-g room below him. The wide windows of the observation deck gave him a full view as the light struck the armor plating mounted on the far wall. There was an explosion as the superheated material of the armor plate vaporized. He felt it more than heard it as a dull whump through the soundproofed walls. His bones buzzed uncomfortably with the vibration.
'Attending one of these tests is completely different from watching recorded footage...'
The beam of light dimmed, then vanished, leaving behind a melted hole in the armor plate, its edges glowing white-hot. Engineers in hazard suits immediately floated toward the hole, taking readings with various instruments.
"It's impressive, isn't it?" Kitagawa-san asked from his side, pushing his goggles up onto his forehead.
"Yeah. Impressive," Soichi replied, as always completely disdainful for the military application of his work. These military types were like children, obsessed with explosions and flashy colors. The true power of his research wasn't in such small tricks of light and energy, but in creation, and that was a feat these small-minded men bent on destruction could never achieve. "I'll probably get used to it soon enough."
"Oh, trust me, Tokishima-sensei," Kitagawa-san said. "It's not something you get used to."
"I'll take your word for it," Soichi said. Kitagawa-san was the chief engineer of the VVV Project. While Soichi had designed the Rave Engines, it had been Kitagawa-san who'd actually built the power systems for the Valvraves. Their Dorssian captors had brought them together once more to work on this new project, although neither man was particuarly willing. Any weapons they developed here would eventually be pointed at the Valvraves, and while Soichi was confident that the boy would be able to overcome them, there was no point in tempting fate. "How'd it look?"
"Looked on spec," Kitagawa-san said. "Gotta wait for the reports to come in."
The door whooshed open behind them, and both men turned together.
A man Soichi had recently come to hate strode through the door. Pletnyov Pyotr, a Dorssian, his 'overseer' for the duration of the Kirshbaum project. Soichi resented working under the man; prior to this, he'd never heard of Pletnyov before in any scientific circles, and his request to see Pletnyov's resume had been ignored.
'Unthinkable that I, Tokishima Soichi, one of the greatest scientific minds who has ever lived, am forced to bow and scrape to this unpublished buffoon!'
The most credit he could give the man was that maybe he was some kind of secret government scientist, who'd been hired early out of university or graduate school to work for the secret shadow council or whatever his current Dorssian 'employers' were. But even then, Pletnyov was young, his short hair raven black and his broad Slavic face unlined. Soichi estimated that at most he was in his late thirties.
And yet, despite his youth, Pletnyov knew things, rudimentary facts about Rune-based technology he should have no way of knowing. His knowledge was nothing compared to Soichi's decades of expertise, of course, but it bode ill for Soichi no matter how he considered it. Either the Dorssians had their own research program into Runes, based on their own sample (and there was nothing to suggest that the JIORan Sample Prime was the only one), or the Dorssians had discovered the location of Sample Prime itself, information that even Soichi wasn't privy to.
"So, Pletnyov! How'd it go?" Kitagawa-san asked.
"Good! Just as expected!" Pletnyov replied, speaking Japanese with a thick accent that Soichi had to struggle to understand. "Burned through three layers of armor plate, minimal scorching on the fourth. Power output, heat shunting, everything performed wonderfully." He turned to regard Soichi. "The energy usage though... it is too high, Professor Tokishima."
'He raised the issue, as expected.' Out of the corner of his eye, Soichi caught Kitagawa glancing at him, and he launched smoothly into his explanation as he'd planned.
"The energy usage is the best we can do under these circumstances," Soichi said. "If you'll recall we reduced the battery drain by 18% since the preliminary design phase. Perhaps if we had some more time to work on it... A week or two, perhaps?"
It was, of course, a blatant lie. The battery overdrain had been a deliberate design choice on his part. He could easily reduce the energy usage by nearly 75% in a few hours, while retaining 80% of the destructive yield... but that would be making life too easy for his captors.
"No, no more time," Pletnyov said. "Assembly begins next week. We'll use the rotating battery system. It'll be clunky in the field, but that can't be helped."
Soichi nodded. "As you wish. Is there anything else?"
"There is," Pletnyov said. "Professor Kibukawa, go back to your quarters. Professor Tokishima, come with me. There's someone who wants to meet you."
Kibukawa-san nodded. "Okay, I'll see you later, Tokishima-sensei." He glanced backward before he went out the door.
"Come." Pletnyov gestured for Soichi to follow him.
Soichi had no choice but to obey. He went with Pletnyov out of the observation room, down a hallway and to an elevator. Along the way, Pletnyov's two assistants, a young man with reddish brown hair and a young woman with a brown ponytail fell in with them. Soichi shot them both brief glances. The two were probably still in graduate school, the best assistants an inexperienced man like Pletnyov rated, probably.
They took an elevator down several floors, then walked for several minutes through twisting corridors to a part of the facility Soichi had never seen before. They came to an unmarked door, one of several along a long hallway, and Pletnyov signaled to his assistants to wait outside before he opened the door and waved Soichi through.
The door opened into an unremarkable windowless room, filled by a long conferance table and dozens of chairs. The sole occupant of the room was a dark-haired woman sitting in one of the chairs. She looked up as Soichi entered and spoke in Japanese. "Hello, Tokishima Soichi."
'A backer?'
Behind him, there was a whoosh as the door shut, and Soichi glanced over to see that Pletnyov hadn't entered the room. He was alone with the woman, and he looked back at her, taking in her features.
She was slight of build, probably in her late thirties, dark curly hair framing a slim face. Her eyes were black, and her skin was a light bronze. She looked to be Caucasian. Mediterranian, maybe. She was dressed in a dark blue business suit and her hands were on the table, empty. And she was smiling at him, although her smile didn't touch her eyes.
A perfectly normal businesswoman, by the looks of her. And yet Soichi found himself completely and inexplicably terrified.
He swallowed hard to moisten his dry throat, bowing slowly and respectfully to the woman. "It's, it's an honor to meet you. May I ask your name?"
"You can call me Daitya," she replied amicably, pulling back the chair next to her. "Please, take a seat."
Soichi gingerly sat in the proffered chair. "Thank you, Daitya-san."
"Just Daitya," she insisted. "The 'activation mix' you spoke of at our last meeting, have you had any success in synthesizing more of it?"
"Our last meeting?" Soichi echoed, momentarily confused and too distracted by fear to understand immediately what she was talking about. Surely he would have remembered if he met her before. "I'm sorry, I don't-"
"The conference calls," Daitya explained.
"I see," Soichi said, "well, uhm, I'm having some problems recreating the formula from scratch. And of course any sample I create may contain defects which can't be determined until put into action..."
"If you had a currently existing sample to work with, could you duplicate the formula?"
"Duplicate it..." Soichi's mind was working overtime. He'd suspected that the Dorssians had captured a Valvrave unit a while ago, and each of the five service-ready Valvraves had a supply of Third Iteration activation mix onboard, enough to activate dozens of Homo sapiens Novus. But according to the internet the last attack on the module had been three weeks ago, and all five Valvraves were still accounted for. Not to mention the attack had nothing to do with the Dorssians... And if they had access to the activation mix, surely they would have asked him to duplicate it earlier?
"Yes, I could duplicate it from a sample," Soichi said. There was nothing to be gained by delaying on this point. He could only sabotage the Dorssians' efforts so far before they started to question his usefulness. "I... think I could."
Daitya studied him for a moment, her dark eyes glittering. "I'll hold you to that," she said finally.
"Got some more water," Kyuma said, setting down his plastic blue beach bucket.
"Thanks, Senpai!" Ogura-chan dumped the contents of the bucket over her pile of sand and mixed it to the right consistency. She began to shape the lump of wet sand into a wall. "Could you make another run?"
Kyuma sighed. If only he had a larger bucket, his team's sand castle-building would be much more efficient. The lack of proper capital goods was taking its toll.
'Some better real estate would be nice too...' He enviously eyed the castles nearer the waterfront. 'It'd be nice to not walk so far to the water every time.'
"I can go get the water this time, Senpai," Midori-chan offered, smiling shyly and reaching for the bucket.
"Nah, I got it," Kyuma said, picking up the bucket again. As he wound his way through the other lots, he noticed Shoko near Seiya-kun's team's castle, talking with the builders. He moved closer to listen in.
"Uwaaaah!" Shoko exclaimed, taking a picture of the sand castle. "That's amazing! What do you call this wonder?"
"It's the Fortress Kabuto Mark One!" Seiya-kun exclaimed.
Kyuma whistled to himself as he studied the "Fortress Kabuto Mark One." It was nearly twice the size of what he, Ogura-chan, and Midori-chan had managed to put together, a three-foot tall construction of towers and halls and buttresses. Seiya-kun's team had done things he didn't think was possible to do with wet sand.
Evidently Shoko thought the same. "How did you get that tower to be so tall but still so skinny? And ooooh, check out those roof edges!" She gushed as she snapped more pictures.
"Our special technique! It's Super Sand Alloy Z!"
"Uhm... what?"
"No, sorry," Seiya-kun laughed. "We packed the sand around a branch. It adds support for the structure, see? Basic engineering!"
"That's putting your skills to use, Kamisugi-san! Speaking of engineers, though..." Shoko looked around. "Is Otamaya-kun with you? I don't think I've seen him today."
"No, he was gonna come but then he changed his mind at the last second," Seiya-kun reported. "Said he had something important to work on with the Valvraves."
"Awww, but today was supposed to be a break from working!" Shoko pouted. "Oh well. You'll be sure to give him the blow-by-blow later, right, Seiya-kun?"
"Will do!" Seiya-kun promised.
'The engineers sure do work hard. And they're largely unsung too.' He resolved to get Otamaya-kun a gift of some kind later for missing the beach party.
Shoko was moving down the beach to the next castle in line, being built by Yamada and two of his friends. Kyuma followed, the bucket in his hands all but forgotten.
"What is that?" Shoko asked Thunder.
"You like it?" Thunder was wearing a pair of bright orange swim trunks that matched his hair- -or at least, it would have matched his hair if his mohawk wasn't encrusted with brown grit. "We call it 'The Fist Reaching to the Heavens!' It represents a man's indominable spirit!"
Kyuma stared at the thing Thunder and his friends had made. If he squinted... no, no matter how he looked at it, it didn't resemble a fist at all. They'd just piled wet sand in a tall, crooked heap, then upended a bucketful of sand on the top to make a lumpy ball. There were a few vertical furrows carved into the ball that he guessed were supposed to represent the separation between the fingers...
'But why are there five furrows? Wouldn't that make a six-fingered hand?'
Shoko frowned in puzzlement at the thing as she took a picture. "It's... uh... very grandiose. But this is a sand castle building contest! Not a sand sculpture contest!"
"Bah!" Yamada crossed his arms over his chest. "This is better than any ol' castle!" He studied his team's creation for a moment. "Kengo! Dig a moat around it! If it's got a moat, it's a castle, ain't it?"
"Peniscompensation!" Rukino-san coughed into her fist from her lot a few feet away, where she and her teammates were building a round domed shape surrounded by spires.
'Come to think of it, it does look more like one of those than a fist...'
"What was that?" Yamada demanded.
"Nothing, just clearing my throat." Rukino-san batted her long lashes at Yamada innocently.
"I heard what ya said, ya singing bitch!" Yamada hooked his fingers into the waistband of his trunks threateningly. "Howsabout I show ya I don't need no compensation?"
"What are you, some kind of exhibitionist?" Rukino-san laughed.
"Now now, children," Shoko waved her hands placatingly. "This is a friendly competition, okay? Friendly!"
Smiling to himself at the other pilots' antics, Kyuma resumed his interrupted quest for water.
Akira scrolled through the latest three pictures Shoko-chan had sent her on her phone. Two were of more sand castles, and the third was a picture of some fish in a cooler, half-filled with ice.
'The first castle is pretty cool, but the second one's just a weird lump...'
She examined the picture of the fish. No idea what kind they were. Had the beach-goers caught them? Couldn't be, the module's waters weren't stocked. The fish didn't look particularly fresh, with sunken eyes and dull scales. Probably came on a food shipment from ARUS.
'Are they going to have a beach cookout?'
Akira didn't feel like she was particularly missing out. 'Real' food was nice and all, but it couldn't beat out junk food for conveniance. Plus there was that annoying thing where most of it didn't keep at room temperature.
Her phone bleeped again as Shoko-chan sent her another picture, but even as she pressed the button to check it, movement on Little Witch's panoramic cockpit view caught her eye. She looked down to see Otamaya-san crossing the hanger bay.
Akira watched the engineer for a moment. He was striding across the floor with measured steps, looking straight ahead as he headed for VVV I, just across from Little Witch. He moved quickly, not exactly in a hurry but clearly with purpose in mind.
Otamaya-san reached the red Valvrave and rode the zipline up toward its cockpit. Akira pursed her lips as she watched him go. Haruto-san had impressed upon her when she'd first became a pilot to not let the other students mess around with her Valvrave, lest they also be 'cursed' (whatever that meant), and he probably wouldn't like Otamaya-san getting into VVV I. But on the other hand, Otamaya-san was an engineer. Maybe he was doing some kind of maintainence?
'Nah, what am I gonna do, call him on his cell and ask him what he's up to? As if I could do something like that...'
Otamaya-san disappeared into VVV I's cockpit. Akira shrugged mentally and went back to Shoko-chan's pictures. Whatever Otamaya-san was up to, it was probably part of his normal engineering duties...
The boy dropped down into the gloom of VVV I's cockpit from the light-filled world of the hanger bay. He landed in a clumsy half-crouch, slowly peering around the spherical room as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. When he was confident that he could see, he made his way to the pilot's chair, circling around behind it and looking carefully at the metalwork there.
After a moment, he found the bit he wanted, halfway up the chair's spine. He felt along the sides briefly, nodded to himself, then pulled a tool from his pocket, setting it to the left side of the spine.
The tool whirred softly as its bit spun, removing the rivet in the chair. The boy worked methodically, removing five more rivets and setting all six carefully in a row at his feet. He grasped the middle of the spine, pulled and lifted simultaneously-
-and with a click, a disguised panel came away in his hands, revealing a hollow within the spine of the chair. Snugly hidden away in that hollow was a small gray cylinder, a few inches tall, marked with the three-sided international symbol for biohazardous materials.
The boy set the panel down and carefully turned a screw ring connected to the top of the cylinder. There was a faint click of a mechanism unlocking, and he tugged on the top of the cylinder.
The cylinder tipped away from the hollow on hidden bearings, revealing a needle-thin aperature at the top, through which its contents fed into the interior of the chair.
Instead of removing the cylinder from its perch, the boy withdrew from his pocket a two-piece disposable syringe in a plastic pouch. He ripped open the package and screwed the accompanying needle onto the top of the syringe, removed the plastic stopper from its tip, and gingerly inserted the needle into the aperture on the cylinder, withdrawing a few milliliters of murky fluid.
The boy pulled the syringe from the cylinder, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. He stared at the contents of the syringe for a moment, his gaze behind his glasses almost rapturous, before removing a plastic capsule and draining the syringe into it. That done, he pocketed the capsule, broke down the syringe into its component parts, replaced the stopper atop its needle, and slipped it and its torn packaging back into his pocket as well.
He began to tidy up, fitting the cylinder back into its hollow and replacing the panel on the back of the chair. Once the rivets were all back in place, he stepped back and examined his work carefully, looking for any sign of his tampering.
There was a small smear of dark blood on one side of the chair's spine, left behind by one of a pair of slowly-oozing wounds on the side of his right hand. He wiped it away with a thumb.
"Yeaaaaah! Fiiiire!" Shoko-san crowed at the outdoor club members' success.
Saki made another nervous check of her ribbon, making sure that the fluffy ends were bright white and none of the pink watermelon juice remained.
'Come on, girl. Quit checking it. It's gonna turn into a tic at this rate.'
Yamada spraying her with watermelon bits had been really annoying. It wasn't that the juice on her skin or Carmilla bikini really bothered her; nor even the cleanup. The other affected students had joyously dunked themselves in the water, and while her dislike for submersion kept her from choosing that option, emptying a bucket of water over her head had accomplished the same thing. It wasn't until some time later when a ribbon chanced to swing past her eyes that she'd seen the white fluff at the end was stained pink with juice.
Her mother smiled at her as she plucked the coiled ribbon from the shelf. The expression startled Saki at first, but then she couldn't look away. As far back as she could remember she had never seen her mother smile like that: a genuine smile, full of warmth, and it was directed at her.
It had taken quite a bit of dunking and gentle scrubbing to clean the fluff, even as Saki prayed the delicate material wouldn't come apart in her fingers. And now even though she knew it was clean she couldn't keep from repeatedly checking to make sure.
'Gah! Stupid Yamada! Why did he have to hit the melon that hard?!'
The sand castle building competition had been pretty fun, she reflected, It had felt good to do something concrete with her hands, even if it was only a transitory thing like a sand castle, even though one of her teammates had been more interested in talking with the neighboring A-Drei instead of helping with their castle. The girl had been asking one question after another about L-Elf, and rather personal ones at that.
Over by the campfire, Shoko-san was instructing other students on how to gut and prep the whole fish from the cooler. Saki found her interest piqued. She'd never cooked fish over a wood fire on the beach before, and Shoko had claimed it to be one of those traditional things people should do when they went to the beach. Maybe a little cooking would take her mind off the whole ribbon thing.
As Saki came up, Ninomiya-senpai was gingerly dangling a fish by its tail, her arm extended as far away from her body as it would go. Her face had a faint greenish hue. "I don't think I can do it, Shoko! It's-it's staring at me!"
"It's just an optical illusion, Senpai!" Shoko-san encouraged her. "You know, like how a painting's eyes look like they follow you? The fish is dead, it can't see a thing!"
"Oh, for goodness' sake!" Saki snatched the fish from Ninomiya-senpai's fingers and pointed it at a beach umbrella. "You're so useless! Go be lewd over there!"
"Wha? Lewd? I'm-!" Ninomiya-senpai sputtered, glancing down at herself. She was wearing a pale blue skimpy tube top, and practically spilling out of it top and bottom. "You're one to talk! Look at you with tits hangi-eep!" She yelped and recoiled as Saki brandished the fish at her. "Fine! I didn't want to get my hands all fishy anyway!" With a final huff she headed for the beach umbrellas.
"I guess it's not for everyone..." Shoko-san sighed. "Have a knife, Rukino-san!"
Marie-san was standing beside the cooler handing out exacto-knives. Saki accepted one.
"Not exactly the best for the job, I know," Shoko-san joked. "But they're better than nothing!"
The students went down to the water to clean their fish, dipping the carcasses to wash away the blood and dropping the entrails into buckets lined with plastic bags for proper disposal later. If they were on Earth, Saki reflected, they could have just left the entrails in the water and some other fish would have eaten them. But the module had no working ecosystems that could handle animal waste. It was only a simulation of a natural environment, after all.
Once the fish were gutted and their scales removed, Shoko-san showed the students how to thread them onto peeled twigs and stick them in the sand to roast near the fire. Saki couldn't help but be impressed at Shoko-san's knowledge.
'If I remember correctly, Shoko-san's a politician's daughter? When'd she get so outdoorsy?'
"Where'd you learn this stuff, Shoko-san?" She asked as the fish crisped slowly over the flames.
"Read it in a manga!" Shoko-san grinned. "'Clean out the blood from the spine!'"
Saki groaned. "So you really don't have any idea..."
"I promise you they'll be good!" Shoko-san said, as Marie-san nodded from behind her.
Ten minutes later, as Saki took a bite of perfectly browned crispy skin and flaky white meat, she had to admit that Shoko-san really did know her way around cooking.
When the sun was on its way down and the artificial sky of the Module was dimming to purple dusk and the campfire had died down to glowing coals, Shoko figured that it was time for the scary stories to begin!
'Watermelon smashing, sand castle building, bonfire cookout, the only must-do beach activity left is scary storytelling!'
And indeed, the conditions were just right. The beach was bordered by what should have been a shady strand of trees, but after the Blackout took down all their leaves, the trees were just skeletal fingers, clawing up toward the bruised-looking sky. Shoko suppressed a shiver as she looked at them. Spooky!
'Yup! That's what scary stories are about! Atmosphere!'
Shoko nodded to herself. The time was right. The students had gathered into little knots here and there, their activity level winding down. Most were just talking, though a determined few were still playing volleyball in the gathering gloom. She went for her megaphone.
"Hey, everyone!" She called with her amplified voice. "Gather 'round the campfire! It's time for marshmallows and scary stories!"
The students came in drabbles, gathering around the remains of the campfire and murmuring in anticipation. The best thing about the module, Shoko reflected, was that evening didn't mean it got much colder; the temperature of the dome was adjusted independantly of the time of day. Back on Earth, many of the swimwear-clad students would have needed to change into heavier clothing. There would also have been mosquitos, which weren't on the module either.
As Marie-chan handed out sticks and a bag of marshmallows made its rounds, Shoko picked up a flashlight, shining it under her face so her features were outlined in spooky shadows. "It's a time-honored tradition of summer nights," she started in her best creepy voice. "After the beach activities are over, the beachgoers gather around the campfire and scare the pants off each other with their best scary stories!"
"Cool!"
"I've got one, Shoko!"
"Do we have to? I don't like scary stories..."
"It's okay, Rin-chan!" Shoko placated the shivering girl. "They won't be that scary! I just said that to get everyone in the mood!"
"Oh... okay then... as long as they're not too scary..."
Rin-chan thusly reassured, Shoko held up the flashlight. "So who wants to go first?"
"Me!" Suzuka-chan, a first-year, spoke up from the back of the crowd. "It was a dark and stormy night..."
"Hang on one moment!" Shoko handed the flashlight over to Suzuka-chan and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed Akira-chan's number and smiled as it went through. "You don't have to say anything, okay? Just listen," she whispered quickly into the phone, before looking back at Suzuka-chan. "Okay, Suzuka-chan. You can start now!"
"And then when the police came, they found the man in the girl's basement, banging a stick on the pipes to make the sound, CLANG CLANG CLANG, trying to attract the girl down to the basement so he could get her..." Takeru-chan finished, the flashlight beam glittering brightly off her golden hair brooch and the glow of the campfire coals reflected in her red hair.
"That was a good one, Nichijo-san!" Kyuma applauded.
"Thanks, Senpai!" Takeru-chan took a small bow.
"Okay, who wants to go next?" Shoko asked as the flashlight was passed back to her.
The bag of marshmallows had long been roasted and eaten, and there had been quite a few stories told, including some pretty frightful gems like Satomi-senpai's story about hearing spectral footsteps in top of the unused south stairwell in Sakimori High's main building, and the one Takeru-chan had just told about the CLANGING in the basement. But as the silence showed, things seemed to be winding down. She noticed that Audrey, their second Dorssian refugee, had nearly fallen asleep. Giggling to herself, she took a picture of him and sent it to Akira-chan.
'Not affected much by scary stories, Audrey? You better wake up though, cause it's my turn now!'
"If nobody else has one, I've been saving the best for last!" Shoko pointed the flashlight at her own face. "This is a true story about something that happened to a friend of mine, no more than a week ago!"
"Who was it, Prime Minister?" Someone wanted to know.
"I'm not telling!" Shoko shook her head. "I promised them I'd keep it a secret!"
The crowd's gaze turned as one to Marie-chan.
"This was another friend!" Shoko said. She lowered her voice as she started her story. "Anyways, so there my friend was the other day, walking around the module. It was just about dark, like it is right now. She was over on Shoju road, where the nature preserve used to be, you know?"
Several students nodded.
'Good, good, I've got em hooked!'
"So there my friend was walking around, and in the trees over there she sees this little flash of white! Can you guess what it was?"
"A ghost!" Someone called out.
"You'd think so!" Shoko replied, pleased at the audience participation. "But it wasn't! Or maybe... it waaaAAAAaaaAAAAAaaas!" She threw a quaver into her voice. That kind of stuff set the mood, right?
'Or maybe not. Now they look more confused than anything.'
"It was the white tail of a deer!" She continued. "And that made my friend think twice, because as you all know, all the module's deer should have died during the Blackout when the dome was emptied of air. So how could there be a deer? Well, my friend is the curious type, so she decided to follow the flash into the woods!"
"Wow! You're so brave, Marie-chan!" Midori-chan breathed.
"Wasn't me," Marie-chan mumbled.
"My friend that wasn't Marie-chan started to follow the deer deeper into the forest. It was getting darker, and darker! But whenever my friend thought she'd lost sight of it there would come a little white tail flash in the distance, leading her on!" Shoko made a beckoning motion to build atmosphere. "After a while she realized she didn't know how to get back to Shoju road anymore, and the only thing she could do was follow the deer tail!"
"Wait, couldn't she just pick a direction and head in a straight line?" Juto-kun pointed out. "The nature preserve isn't that big."
"As expected of our Minister of Transport!" Shoko said. "But no! She, uhm, when she tried to get out of the woods she just ended up going in circles!" She hadn't actually considered that aspect of the story before, so now she was just making stuff up on the spot. But getting lost in the woods and going in circles was a hallmark of scary stories, right?
"But how did she know she was going in circles?" Juto-kun wanted to know.
"The... the moon!" Shoko said. "She could see the moon!"
"But... the dome faces away from the moon." Juto-kun pointed out. "And even if she could see the moon, wouldn't it let her-" His eyes opened slightly as he realized what was going on. "Ohhhh. Sorry, Shoko..."
"No worries, Juto-kun!" Shoko rubbed her chin. "Uhm, where was I? Oh yeah, so my friend was getting all lost in the woods, and just when she was about to freak out, she sees this one last flash of the deer tail, right? So she follows it, and she comes to this clearing in the woods. And smack dab in the middle of the clearing is..."
She suddenly spun to face the person closest to her and screamed at the top of her lungs. "A BIG PILE OF ROTTING DEER CARCASSES! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Marie-chan stared back at her, blinking slowly, her face stoic and emotionless as usual.
'Oh yeah. Probably should have tried that on someone else.'
Shoko looked towards the rest of the students. Rather than the expressions of terror she was expecting, most of them looked confused. A few looked bored. Audrey still looked like he was about to fall asleep.
Yamada-kun raised his hand slowly. "That it?"
"Yeah. That's, uh. That's it." Shoko said.
"Oh. Not bad, I guess." Kyuma clapped weakly.
Akira made a face as Shoko-chan's story came to an end.
'Ending on a jump scare? That's pretty lame, Shoko-chan. What are we, ten?'
She popped another marshmallow into her mouth. Not roasted, like the students at the beach party were enjoying, but she'd make do. The sounds of the other students talking were still coming over the phone, filling her with twinges of trepidition. But at the same time, she wanted to join them.
She wanted to get out onto the beach, feel the wet sand squishing between her toes and the surf on her legs. Smell the salt of the sea wind (okay, so that last one wouldn't be possible on the module, but whatever).
Above all else she wanted... she didn't know what. Companionship? Participation? Just to hang out with other kids and shoot the breeze? What was that even like, with others her age? Her last real social interactions had been back in middle school.
'But it's never going to happen... I can think about it all I like but just hearing their voices over the phone makes me tense up. Even if I could get out there with no anxiety holding me back, I'd still be so tongue-tied... no way I could tell a scary story. I could never participate in something like this.'
Shoko-chan's story had featured a deer ghost, but Akira herself sometimes felt like she was the real ghost, peering out of her computer screen at the students who populated the module around her without being able to interact with them. And while watching had seemed like enough for the past three years she was at Sakimori, things had changed now that Shoko-chan had befriended her. The crushing sense of isolation was almost more than she could stand at times. And while she was a part of something as a Valvrave pilot, it still wasn't quite enough.
But now that she thought about it, there was a way she could participate. Ghosts could possess people, right? And aside from literally possessing people as a Kamitsuki, maybe there was another figurative way for her to possess someone. If she sent someone else a story as text, maybe they could read it for her?
Who should she get to read it? Shoko-chan was the first one to mind, but no, as much as she adored Shoko-chan, the energetic girl didn't have any idea how to tell a scary story. Shoko-chan's story could have been creepy as all hell, but it had been ruined by her lack of understanding of timing or tone. Plus she did this weird oscillating thing with her voice that sounded like a four-year-old's idea of spoopy ghosts.
No, Shoko-chan was out. Who else was there?
'The obvious choice is Thunder. He's already kind of my de facto text reader for the other pilots...'
Akira paused for a moment. How'd that happen, anyway?
Thinking back on it, she wasn't quite sure. There'd been something she'd wanted to explain to the other pilots, and Thunder's phone had happened to be out. And then it had just carried on from there.
'Well, whatever, might as well give him a shot.' She quickly sent him a text.
RAINBOW: Hey Thunder, if I send you a story could you tell it?
The response came a moment later.
THUNDER: Sure. Lay it on me!
That went well. Akira pursed her lips. Okay, now she had a reader. But what about a story? It wasn't like she had an overabundance of experience to draw from, or even friends to tell her their experiences...
'Bah, who needs friends for scary stories? I've got the whole internet at my disposal!'
It was Shoko-chan's last picture that gave her inspiration. In it, A-Drei was sitting with heavy-lidded eye, looking half asleep.
'Sleepy Dorssian... DORSSIAN SLEEP EXPERIMENT!'
Yeah, that would work. She pulled it up in a search engine. She'd have to change up the format a little as she fed it to Thunder, of course, and there were some little details that could use tweaking. Good thing she was a very fast typist.
"So... nearly... free..." Thunder whispered, the sound faint and barely audible over her cell phone.
Akira pulled the phone away from her ear. She'd been pressing it so hard against her head to catch every last nuance that her ear ached. She enjoyed a rather nice shiver, something she hadn't felt from a creepypasta in ages, with how jaded she'd become.
'It's not really the content though. It's how Thunder TOLD it. That's what made it good.'
As it turned out, Thunder was a great storyteller. Although it seemed to be his first time reading it, he'd managed to infuse the story with the proper atmosphere of mystery and dread. He even managed to do different voices for the characters, putting on a haughty nasal voice for the scientists. And the raspy whisper he used for the sleep-deprived... Ooooh, that had sent chills down her spine.
Akira hadn't really noticed it before since the previous messages she'd sent tended to be short, but Thunder actually switched out of his crude speaking style while reading her texts aloud. He had a rather pleasant speaking tone, deep and mellow. She'd found herself enjoying the rumble of his voice as he narrated the story.
'Maybe I should send him more texts, just to hear him read them.'
Pleasantness of his reading voice aside, she wondered if his normally brash speaking style was an affectation.
It was a rather odd thing when she considered it. Sakimori was an extremely posh school, a place for the sons and daughters of the affluent and privileged. There wasn't anything remotely like a thug culture to be found here, so what was up with Thunder's attitude? The rather out-of-place behavior stirred her hacker's instincts.
'If there's something I can't resist, it's a mystery...'
Haruto shuddered. That last story had hit way too close to home.
'Monsters with the ability to live through massive physical trauma, created from a mysterious substance... a gas in this case instead of an injection, but it's close enough. Do Akira-chan and Yamada even realize how alike we are to the creatures in the story?'
A few months ago, he would have laughed at the story's implausibility. It was too far from any kind of biological reality to hold any horror for him. Having so much of their tissue removed and not die of blood loss? Even if the story specified that the experimental subjects' blood carried more oxygen than a normal human's blood, it was still absurd. Or at least, it would have been absurd for the old Haruto. Here he was, regenerating from lethal wounds within a few dozen seconds. Yet his blood was normal by all standards (at least according to the medical scanner). His life had become more absurd than a horror story.
Haruto eyed the remaining three pieces of youkan on his plate queasily; it'd been hard enough already to choke down the half pound of youkan he'd alloted for the evening, but now... he pushed the plate away. So what if he was a few ounces off from the two pound target L-Elf had set for the day? He still had to be way over his daily calorie requirement.
"I'm back!" Saki said over the phone on the desk. They'd had their phones on speaker mode for the last half hour or so he could listen in on the scary stories from the security office where he was currently sitting with L-Elf. "What'd you think of that one? I didn't think Yamada would be such a good storyteller!"
"It was pretty good." Haruto admitted. "I got the chills there."
"Haru~to's scared of a sto~ry!" Saki teased lightly.
"Was not!" Haruto protested. "I just thought it hit a little close to home."
"Come again?"
"Secret experiments... making monsters... you know, kinda like us if you think about it..."
"Excuse me! Not like us at all!" Saki huffed. "For one thing, we're pretty, and not ghouls." She paused a moment. "Well, okay, Yamada's pretty ghoulish but he's more of a hulking ghoul than a mutilated ghoul. And second, we're in control of ourselves and not sitting around a room being emo."
'Not all of us are in control of ourselves...'
It wasn't a point to bring up with Saki though. Haruto nodded, although she couldn't see him. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
"I am right," Saki said smugly. "Take it from me, I know all about ghouls and stuff!"
"Because that's how it works in movies?" Haruto teased.
"Exactly! I was right about how the Bodyjacking worked, wasn't I?"
"I guess I have to give you that one."
"Mmm-hmm." Saki's voice became more serious. "It was a nice beach party, and thanks to Shoko-san for throwing it. That girl's got her brain problems at times but at others she can be pretty useful. There's just one thing that could have made it better..."
"What's that?" Haruto asked, even though he had a good idea what she was going to say.
"You should have come! We could have built a sand castle together~"
"Sorry... There's alot work to do here with the security stuff..."
"Right. Security, I understand." Saki's tone was frosty.
"It's just-" Haruto snuck a glance at L-Elf on the other side of the room. The Dorssian seemed to be engrossed in a tablet. He wasn't sure how L-Elf would take it if he overheard what Haruto was about to say. "It's just that I need to step up to the plate. We can't depend on L-Elf for everything, and if we want to really stand on our own as a nation, we need to take responsibility and actually do our jobs. For me, that means being the Minister of Defense. And that's more than just piloting Valvrave."
Saying it out loud like that, he could almost believe responsibility was the real reason why he was isolating himself from Saki and the others, and not the fact that the Kamitsuki attacks had returned.
'It's a lie, but it can't all be bad if I'm helping make the module more secure, right? As long as some good comes out of it...'
He had to believe it was for something in the end. Because if it wasn't...
"No, really, Haruto. I do understand," Saki said. The sincerity in her voice made him feel even worse. "Just don't work yourself to death, okay?"
"Indestructible superhuman, remember?"
"Right," Saki replied. Haruto could hear more activity going on in the background of the call. "Well, they're starting to pack up here. I guess I'll talk to you later?"
"Later!"
The call ended. Haruto stared at the phone for a moment before tucking it into his pocket.
"Tokishima Haruto." L-Elf was standing over him.
"What's up, L-Elf?" Haruto asked.
"I heard what you said."
"Sorry," Haruto winced. He knew that L-Elf had his own stake in the war, and that he needed Module 77 and the Valvraves to see his goals through. As much as possible, Haruto wanted to help L-Elf accomplish those goals, and he didn't want to give the wrong impression with his talk about not being able to depend on L-Elf. "I don't mean that we should be trying to end our partnership or anything. I meant what I said about helping you save that girl. But I should take responsibility on my end as well. There'll be a day when this is over and we go our separate ways, and we need to prepare for that."
"No, that is the correct attitude to have," L-Elf said. "You're right that New JIOR will have to stand on its own as a nation, and it's good you've decided to take more responsibility."
"Oh. Uhm, thanks." Haruto scratched his head. He would rather L-Elf not have heard his lie at all, but at least the Dorssian wasn't offended.
"Since you've come to this decision," L-Elf continued, "there's some intelligence I should share with you. A-Drei and I have been negotiating with the Royalists, a Dorssian faction opposed to the current regime. Just a few days ago we agreed to assist one another."
'Opposed to the current regime? So was that what L-Elf had meant by "liberating Dorssia?" He's after a coup?'
Haruto tried to remember what he knew about Dorssian politics. They'd been ruled by a monarchy for centuries, until recently, just a few years ago, when both the reigning king and crown prince had perished in a shuttle accident. Rather than pass to the next in line, the Dorssia dynasty had been overthrown by the military. That had been when the current Chancellor, Amadeus, had come to power.
'They're called the Royalists, so they want to restore the monarchy to power?'
"What do they want from us?" Haruto asked.
"The Valvraves. Or more accurately, they want the Valvraves to participate in a joint military operation."
Haruto wasn't sure how to feel about the prospect. Defending the module against aggression was well and good, but these Royalists probably wanted the Valvraves to help them attack a Dorssian military target. If they did something like that, would they be any different than the Dorssians that had attacked the module? "I'm not sure about helping them attack Dorssians that aren't actively threatening us," he admitted.
He was halfway expecting L-Elf to give him some kind of lecture about how in war one had to take the fight to the enemy, or that all Dorssians loyal to the current government constituted a threat, so he was surprised when the Dorssian instead stated simply, "they claim to know the location of Valvrave Unit Two."
"UNIT TWO?" Haruto bolted upright in his seat. If they could retrieve VVV II from the hands of the Dorssians, or whatever secret organization had it now... "Where?"
"They have not confirmed that information. Nevertheless, what preliminary intelligence they did share leads me to conclude it is onboard one of the Dorssian Spheres."
"Oh. But they've seen it, right? I mean like, one of their members?"
"They have not confirmed that either."
Haruto frowned. This was getting more suspicious by the second. "Which Valvraves do they want?"
"All of them," L-Elf replied. "And that's why I had you prepare the duty rosters for the next two weeks in advance. We will need all the firepower we can get against Unit Two and the Sphere's defense fleet."
"But we need someone to stay behind to defend the module..." Haruto objected.
"The Royalists have volunteered to provide security while the Valvraves are away."
That did it. "What if this is another trap?" Haruto pointed out. "They won't tell us where Unit Two is. They won't even say for sure if they've seen it. What if they're just trying to get the Valvraves away from Module 77 and put their soldiers onboard to occupy it?"
L-Elf smiled faintly. "That's a valid analysis, Tokishima Haruto. And it may be a possibility. However, there are two pieces of information which contradict that. First, I have worked with the Royalists in the past and I believe they have more to gain from continued cooperation than betrayal. Second, they will provide us a hostage for the duration of the operation. Also, what information they have shared seems to corroborate their claims. I can show it to you, if you like."
"It's okay, L-Elf." Haruto shook his head. "I trust your analysis."
"Still as sweet as ever," L-Elf said. "But it's good you doubted the goodwill of the Royalists, Tokishima Haruto. A Minister of Defense should be apprehensive of those who would be his allies."
"Are you trying to tell me not to trust you?" Haruto laughed. "It won't work."
"If you say so." L-Elf's gaze fell to Haruto's leftover youkan. "Are you going to finish that?"
"Nope. All yours." Haruto handed over the plate.
Elliott Halbach walked down the winding path across the high school campus with the other members of his crew. All around them denuded trees thrust their bare branches into the blue-black sky. He shot a quick glance backwards at the student minders tagging behind them at a discreet distance and scoffed a little.
'Whoever says JIORans are peaceful is full of shit. Just look at those kids. They're toting some serious hardware! And they say we're all gun nuts in ARUS...'
Not that he knew enough about firearms to identify the guns in question, but the minders, a boy and girl pair, both had a pistol holstered at the hip, and a rifle slung across their backs. The firearms were completely incongruous with their rather preppy school uniforms; the girl looked particularly odd with her pink skirt and bowtie.
The security on Module 77 was completely nuts; far beyond anything he'd seen in his ten years of international contract work. Not even the somewhat questionable employers he'd worked for in Venezuela were this paranoid. Two heavily-armed students to herd around every group of workers? What were they expecting, for the contractors to turn out to be Dorssians in disguise?
'Then again, can you really blame em? They get hounded all the way from the JIORan Sphere to the moon, and now that they're here they get attacked by some kind of militants? If I were them I'd want to be armed at all times too.'
The students weren't exactly the best guards, to be quite honest. Back at the site at the corner of the campus where they were repairing one of the damaged buildings, their minders had broken out cell phones and started surfing the net. Still, as inattentive as they were, Elliott reflected, he'd still had no time to meet with his contact- -whoever that was supposed to be, anyway.
On the surface, Elliott Halbach was the owner of Halbach Construction, a small construction company that did international contracting work. They were based in Calgary, Canada, but travelled all over ARUS doing jobs. They were moderately successful and did mostly small projects, the kind which flew beneath the radar of the larger corporations.
Behind the scenes, he was a smuggler.
It started six years ago, during a downturn in business. Halbach Construction was at risk of going under, and one of their customers in Ecuador had suggested they mule some drugs back into Canada, hiding it among their construction equipment. Elliott had accepted, and since then smuggling had become a rather lucrative revenue stream. They transported everything from drugs to weapons to exotic animals- -although Elliott drew the line at human trafficking. That was a pie he wanted no part of, no thanks.
Doing work in space was out of their usual purview, but one of Elliott's contacts in the Canadian government had offered them a job on Module 77; free transport, and nearly three times their usual rate, although the contact hadn't been up front with what they'd actually be smuggling. Just do their construction job as normal, he'd been told. There might not even be anything to smuggle in the end, but they would still be paid even if there was nothing to move. They just needed to be aboard the module.
How could Elliott say no to that kind of deal? And he'd been assured that it wouldn't involve smuggling people, so that angle was covered.
So they'd been onboard Module 77 for two weeks, working with the incredibly paranoid New JIORans. And for two weeks, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. But then today during breakfast he'd found a piece of paper sitting on the food tray he'd gotten in the cafeteria. "The meet is today" had been written on it.
So Elliott had been waiting all day. Since the note hadn't contained any other information, he'd assumed the contact would find him. But how was that going to work with their minders constantly being underfoot?
They were back at the dorm now. In front of the door was another armed student, a tall leanly muscular fellow who looked like he did sports.
'Just one?' It seemed a little odd. So far, all the student soldiers Elliott had seen were paired.
Evidently, the minders with his group had the same thought. The girl waved at the student in front of the dorm. "Hey, Takeo-senpai! Where's your partner?"
"Hey, Ema-san!" Takeo waved back. "Iona-san's in the bathroom. I think she ate something bad. She's been in there all day."
"Ah, that's a shame," the boy called out. "Dropping off!" He addressed the crew in English. "Take care, you guys!"
"Thanks, you too!" Elliott responded. Their two minders headed off on their own way, chatting with one another, as the crew started to file past the door guard.
"So what do you think about the trees?" the guard mumbled as Elliott drew close. "It's almost like winter's come early."
Elliott refrained from doing a double take. So the student was his contact? He'd been expecting maybe one of the other ARUS people on the module. He stopped and gave the countersign he'd been fed. "It's a shame, I know. Hopefully it'll grow back soon."
Takeo pressed something into his hand. It felt like some kind of capsule, and he quickly tucked it away into his pocket and continued into the dorm.
Later in the bathroom, Elliott had a closer look at the thing he'd been handed. It turned out to be a plastic vial filled with a murky liquid, dark and mysterious.
What was it, he wondered? Some kind of new designer drug? A fuel source? Something to do with the Valvraves? He hoped that was it. ARUS could certainly use technology like that in their struggle against Dorssia.
Well, whatever it was, he knew it wasn't any of his business. Elliott Halbach hadn't gotten to where he was now by asking unnecessary questions.
Chapter 11 End
AN: Thanks to xchrispx and Christemo for beta reading!
To SatelliteCannon, I'm sorry I couldn't work in the Dorssian Fan Club idea very well into this chapter! I was intending to have it but while writing it I couldn't find a particularly good place to put it in. Will try harder in future chapters!
Thanks to DarkManta for your frequent encouragement!
Something I always felt was missing from the VVV series was the proper use of the Magius bodysnatching ability. I mean, here you have these aliens that can literally jump from body to body, Azazel-style (nobody's gonna get that), and we never actually see any Magius inhabit more than one body! Other than Mirko, I suppose, but then he's just in Amadeus for the rest of the series and there's no difference to if Amadeus had been introduced as a Magius instead of being bodyjacked by one. That's a particular aspect of the Magius that I want to explore more in depth.
The Dorssian Sleep Experiment that Akira references is a reference to a creepypasta called the Russian Sleep Experiment. For those that aren't familiar with it you can easily find it with a google search. It's a bit cheesy imho, but it's an interesting read.
Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and as always updates on my writing progress can be found in my profile!