The wind was gusting strongly when the large gangplank fell from the barge to the dusty shore. Luckily, there was not an overabundance of windblown sand close to the more heavily populated areas. The ECS was a masterpiece of technology, but could be defeated by some of God's simpler creations.
The image of amorphous formless shapes walking through the streets of the quiet village might bring back superstitions regarding the ancient gods.
It might very well draw the attention of the Egyptian government, or members of the targeted terrorist group.
Melissa's M9 headed out first, its Bofors in hand and its primary systems set to infrared. Woe betide any hostile forces that might happen upon her unawares. The first two troop carriers followed, their huge wheels churning up the dust as they sped on their way. Watchful men in the machine gun rings wore cloth over the mouths and noses. Goggles protected their eyes from the stinging particles
Kurz trudged along next, a giant sniper rifle cradled in the grasp of his Arm Slave. Two more troop carriers preceded Sousuke, whose craft brought up the rear. His M9 was carrying a Hellbore flame cannon---if they came across any truck or vehicle carrying the mushrooms, he would end their threat once and for all.
'We should bring stuff for Barbeque,' Kurz had said when they checked their provisions.
Melissa had scorched his posterior with her butane lighter.
ECS or no ECS, Sousuke felt somewhat naked without air cover. True, the Mithril soldiers all wore Egyptian Army uniforms---and the troop carriers were decked out in Egyptian colors and insignia---but they would be headed into places where standard troops would have no business venturing.
Mithril may have owned technological superiority, but the sovereign forces of Egypt had numbers and home court advantage.
The young soldier could find no comfort in the seat of the M9. It was not because Sousuke was piloting something other than Arbalest---the logistics of the mission had precluded that. No, it was because his very soul felt at if it too was naked. Memories rushed in... recollections of a desert far away... thoughts of a time long ago.
The process was beginning in earnest.
It was as if he had walked into the Hall of Judgment.
He fully expected to be looking into the polished teeth of a jackal-headed deity any moment now.
The thoughts swirled faster and fiercer than the desert sands outside. He saw uncertain images of the Mission building in Kabul, the place of his earliest memories. His mother was there. Did she really look like that. His father was there too. Why did his face have to be blurry? Two other forms faded in and out of focus. His brother and sister. He would give anything to remember something substantial about them.
Once again, he felt the deafening concussion of bombs. He heard the abrupt smashing of doors. Blood---that was the first day he had truly smelled blood. The acrid taste of fear filled his mouth, then as it had in those darkest of days. Every part of his bottle tingled, then went numb.
There were forms in his mind, hideous amorphous forms. They seemed like Giants. They moved like ghosts. Russian soldiers, seen through a young child's eyes. They were replaced by the bodies of his family... some killed by falling bits of building... the others ruthlessly brutalized and killed by the uniformed fiends
In his eyes, there was no clemency given a child..
His sins were clear to him.
Fear.
He had run. He had run as fast as he could, never looking back. He never once checked to see if anyone in his family was still alive.
Selfishness.
Again, he had though only of his survival. He was swallowed up by his own pain and fear.
Guilt.
When he reached a place of relative safety, he had begun to blame himself for what happened. Somehow, he decided that the soldiers must have come because of HIM and him alone. Perhaps it was because of the small roll he had stolen from the street vendor the day before last. Maybe it was due to the evil thoughts he had about the invading troops. Could someone have discovered the drawing he made of those hated men?
There had been no place for reasoned thought then.
Worry.
It became his life's blood. Worry helped him eat. Worry helped him drink. Worry helped find him places to hide. Worry drove him to find places to sleep. It shaped who he was then.
Were there any virtues brought to light that day? If he were charitable, he could mention that he had survived where everyone else had perished. But, that was by good fortune, not as a result of some great deed of his. Nevertheless, he felt a need to justify his actions. He had only been a small child.
Did that matter?
The small convoy took a turn off of the main concourse. They headed towards more lightly populated areas. Sousuke's thoughts changed their direction as well.
He envisioned himself sitting in Lt. Cmdr. Kalinin's office. He was told about a new assignment. He would be bodyguarding a civilian girl. Her picture---taken years earlier---meant nothing to him at that moment. She was only a mission. The unsuspected and unwanted task displeased him. His attitude and reactions had been less than ideal.
Sloth.
He had no desire to leave the sub, to take on that assignment. He was content in his current existence, and did not wish to experience such a difficult transition.
Insolence.
He had wanted to throw the mission dossier in the trash. While he did not, his eyes had conveyed his true feelings. It was a foolish decision, guarding some girl. Other people could do that. He was a Specialist.
Fear.
He would not acknowledge his feelings at the time, but he realized all too well that he was not fit for the real world. What did he know about it? How could he blend in successfully? Why should he be on his own again?
Arrogance.
It was a babysitting assignment! How could a blue-haired girl count for more than an ace Arm Slave pilot? Any number of ground huggers and box pushers could handle that kind of work.
Sousuke's M9 stepped into a deceptive cut in the land. He felt a brief sinking sensation, then a jarring halt. The Arm Slave had found a sand- filled crevice and was sunk up to its primary leg joints. Extending his arm cord, Sousuke used the free arm to push the A.S. out while Kurz' machine pulled on the line.
Just as suddenly as his M9 had succumbed to the environment, Sousuke's memories blurred, wavered, then reformed. He stood in front of his new classmates at Jindai High School.
Lying.
It became a huge part of his life, in a professional sense. It was necessary for his cover. He did not like the CD he claimed were his favorites. He really WAS a sergeant. Those were the tamest of the lies he would tell.
Insolence and Disrespect.
He had burst into the girl's locker room while they were in various stages of undress, caring more about the slim chance of a mission failure more than he did about the sanctity of the room or the feelings of its residents.
He also realized that he had been plain stupid. But, that was not a sin.
Excuse making.
Caught by the girls, he had resorted to lame excuses. More lies. Even more stupidity. He shook his head. It was hard to believe that he had claimed that he wanted to join their team.
Bitterness and Self-pity.
Dragging himself back to the safe house, handcuffed to a metal folding chair, he had blamed his superiors... cursed his luck... and hated his life. A Specialist, cuffed to a metal chair, by a bunch of teenage softball players!
Irresponsibility.
When he later listened to the wire tap on the girl's phone---hearing that she thought he was 'interesting'---his thoughts had been wild and undisciplined . He had come close to refusing any further involvement in the mission.
Again, there were plausible reasons for many of his actions. But, that didn't mean anything. Criminals can also explain in great detail why they do the things they do.
That was the negative side of the ledger. What did he have to show on the positive side? Had he done anything constructive? Did he experience any noteworthy or admirable feelings?
Faith?
No. He hadn't exactly bee a vessel of unbounded faith.
Hope?
Right! Things had looked as bleak as they had ever been.
Charity?
The only thing he would have shared with anyone those days was a bullet to the head.
Fortitude?
No. For someone who could survive any climate... get by in any natural surroundings... and defeat any enemy... he was exhausted by the end of his first day of school.
Temperance or Prudence?
Anything but! But, when had he ever shown those, except where they were built into sound military doctrine.
Setting the M9 on auto-pilot for a few moments, Sousuke rubbed at his eyes. Kaname had meant nothing to him then. He never would have guessed how that would change, just as she could never have guessed the kinds of things she would be annoyed and tormented by.
Was her life better for having him around, or worse? Were things improving now that his feelings for her were evolving and he was more receptive to her suggestions and complaints?
Voyeurism.
Normally, that would be the last thing he would be concerned about. But, was there more than one way to get satisfaction or a thrill from watching someone? Did he get a view of normal life by keeping an eye on Kaname?
Maybe.
Perhaps the converse was true as well. Did his actions give her a chance to get a view of an abnormal life?
Abuse.
Were the countless awkward or unusual circumstances Kaname was forced to deal with on his behalf an abuse of her once happy life?
The sound of a jangling goat bell brought his mind back to the present, just in time. He quickly shut off the auto-pilot and grabbed the control lever. The M9's huge metal foot hovered unseen just above the head of a young goat herder carrying a young animal.
Somehow, the goats sense the Arm Slave was there. The boy never realized how close to death he had come.
Irresponsibility.
He had come close to stealing that child's every hope and dream.
It was not the first time Sousuke had been in such a situation. This time, however, the results were much more favorable. He had no wish to revisit those days. But, sooner or later, those thoughts would barge through the door into his mind uninvited.
Sousuke sighed. It felt as if it were going to be a long mission, even before any type of fighting or guard duty took place.
Part of his mind had locked onto a target of uncertain value. Just what good could possible come from self-examination? Would he suffer collateral damage?
Wasn't there a reason that he usually suppressed his thoughts and feelings automatically?
Would he be fighting on two fronts at once?
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sousuke took a moment to dismount and check the ground. He wanted to make certain that there was no trace whatsoever of the task he had just finished. Before climbing back into his M9, he stood a moment in the hot wind, lost in thought.
Some things are a matter of perspective.
Depending on a man's frame of reference---and cultural, ethnic, and societal norms---certain things can be viewed as good by some people, and bad by others.
In contrast, there were also things that were much less ambiguous.
"It's not a question of good or bad. It was a matter of necessity."
Sousuke's heart and mind were not in total agreement at the moment.
A small cluster of Egyptian soldiers had lain dead in the wreckage of their burning truck. The armed men had challenged the drivers of the transporters.
Rightfully so.
They had made their stand when their commands were rebuffed, and they had done so with courage and admirable teamwork. All had died when unseen forces beyond their imagining ripped their bodies to shred and exploded the truck.
Each and every one might leave behind a wife and children to mourn their mysterious disappearance.
It was all too easy to claim the actions were necessary. The reasons all made perfect sense.
The Mithril troops could not afford to be stopped.
True. If they were not able to prevent the harvesting, processing, and shipping of the mushrooms, many more people would be mourning.
They could not risk that the terrorists could not be alarmed or alerted.
That followed naturally from the first point. How many mushrooms would it take to wipe out a village... a burg... a town... a city... a national capitol? How many shipments might get past them for every minute headstart the enemy got?
There was no time or place for captives.
They had no room for error whatsoever. All of their forces needed to be allocated to the primary purpose. Any man left guarding prisoners was a man who was not fighting terrorists. Even their minimal level of deception would prove useless if a captive were allowed to speak.
No anesthetic agents had been loaded aboard any of the Mithril craft--- every spare space had already been accounted for.
That was a logistical fact. The powers that be had made there decision on captives, so the possibility of non-lethal methods were not even discussed. It was a brutal game, where the pawns were made of flesh and blood. The outcome of the game mattered more than any one piece.
Sousuke had been given the sad task of digging an unmarked grave and removing all trace of his activity. The monomolecular cutter could double as a long flat shovel in the soft and shifting sand. The rocket boosters on the back of the M9 smoothed the sand in the area he had completed his grisly task.
They couldn't even leave a marker to point the way for grieving family members.
He had not been the one who pulled the trigger. Sgt. Major Mao, as squad leader, had taken that burden upon herself. He had stood by and done nothing. He had not uttered a single word.
Furthermore, he would have given the same order.
The mission came first. Eight lives ceased to be, in hopes that millions of other lives could continue onward. Was this a sin? If so, did his soul share the burden? Were his hands dripping with the blood of innocent men by proxy?
His next thought made him shudder.
What if someone were forced to kill Kaname in similar fashion? Would that makes things any better? Would his feeling of loss be any less? Those thoughts were too disturbing to consider now.
This was not the first time he had been assailed by his hibernating conscience. But, it was by far the most troubled he had ever been. Something had knocked holes in the walls he had built around himself.
The excuses swirled around in his head, seemingly of their own accord. He wanted to stop such thoughts, but he couldn't. Not only were the recent actions on trial, but his entire life too!
It was for a good cause.
Yes, but he didn't need to hear that. Not again and again and again.
At least it was painless.
That was probably true, but who could say? He remembered countless other enemies who had not been so fortunate. Heir cries joined in an unholy chorus.
Many other people would benefit.
Yes. Maybe. Who could say. There was no guarantee they would succeed.
The terrorists were ultimately to blame.
No one could deny that. But, the terrorists had not pulled the trigger. They had not stood idly by as good and honest men died doing their sworn duty.
He had been ordered to stand by.
Every war or skirmish could claim some soldier who committed atrocities by way of orders. Who should take the blame? The soldier? The leaders? The situation that necessitated the fighting in the first place? And who was qualified to judge what was an atrocity and what was a necessity?
They could have been killed themselves if they failed to act.
Yes and no. Sousuke. Not Melissa or Kurz either. That type of squad may not even have been on active duty. At ,ost, they were patrolling. There was little likelihood that they had been equipped with anything that could have harmed any Arm Slave, much less an M9. Only the Mithril troops had been at risk.
Any other armed force would have done the same.
True. The only ones that wouldn't would be those that couldn't. The cost of duty is not light. Ask any person on the street about soldiers, and they will understand the physical sacrifices they sometimes have to make. Few would truly understand the other burdens they must bear.
It is an accepted truism that the victors write history. They have a chance to paint any happening in a manner of their choosing for posterity's sake. Some individuals operate in the same manner. Sousuke couldn't. At least not then.
Sousuke banged his fist flat against his forehead, trying to break up the swarming mass of thoughts.
The potential excuses were endless. None of them made him feel better, but nothing had convinced him that any other course would have been better. The bottom line remained. There was a job to be done. They would bring thunder, death, and destruction and let God reckon the cost.
The small but powerful forced moved on after everyone was set. They would reach their goal near dusk. That would prove ideal for their plans. As the daylight faded, the ghosts in Sousuke's memories arrived in force once more.
Once again winds of his mind blew him back to the past. He was still a boy in those images, but he had taken his first big steps away from innocence. There had been no family or friends he could turn to. He learned by watching, just how terrible the conditions were in the street-side and state-run orphanages and shelters. The abuse had been unspeakable, worse than anything done by the invaders. He would not subject himself to that. Not at any price.
Still, those institutions served him well.
He learned to be a thief, stealing the food and supplies he needed from them. It never crossed his mind that every bite of food he pilfered was once less bite of food for someone else. The warmth of the blankets he made off with was something he could sense. The shivering of some other deprived youth was not.
Stealing.
It had kept him alive. It helped teach him stealth. It forced him to value necessity more than morals, when he had to chose one or the other.
Extortion.
He began bullying other vagrants and unfortunates. He had been terribly wronged, so he felt no compulsion against doing the same to those who were weaker or slower than himself.
For a moment, the self examination stopped.
He realized just how much he owed Lt. Cmdr. Kalinin and the men that came before him. It was a miracle that he had any sense of justice, temperance, or charity at all. The road ahead of him was long, and filled with confusing twists and turns; but, he was much further along than he had any right to be.
He realized another thing. Kaname needed to be added to that list.
Whether or not she realized it, there was no doubt that she had helped him grow as well. He should be feeling some form of gratitude in that regard. Instead, he struggled against a sense of impending loss. Would Kaname ever forgive him for abandoning her in her time of need?
That train of thought was pointless at the moment. Kaname was thousands of miles away. What had been said, was said. What had been done, was done. Instead, Sousuke's thoughts back once more to his aimless days on the streets of Kabul.
Trespassing.
He recognized no moral or ethical boundaries, only physical ones. Any place he could go, he went, if looked as if he could get back out again.
Cheating.
By necessity, he learned to barter and to trade. Hard times and a growing hatred of con artists and shill men drove him to outdo those who would do unto him.
Gluttony.
It was a relative thing. He had stolen and extorted more than he needed to survive, but appropriated less than he would have been given freely had his parents been alive. They had been generous, even though they were of poor means. He decided that other people owed him the things he had never been able to receive.
Hypocrisy.
Whenever the opportunity arose, he spoke out against the Russians for the crimes they committed. Yet, he did many of those same things himself. He was not a murderer; but that would come soon enough. He had not been taken over by hate, revenge, judgment, and stubbornness; but, that time had been fast approaching.
Sousuke shivered, thinking back to those times. He had been little more than an animal. That same raw and lawless part still reached out to grab hold of him at times, in the heat of battle, or in a heated competition.
Should he be ashamed? Ruthlessness in combat was one of the things that kept bringing him back alive.
Again, it was time to balance the tally sheets.
Were there any things that could be said in his favor?
Yes. He could not deny the truth. Sometimes strengths are born out of adversity.
Hope.
Despite the fact that his world had collapsed around him, he still managed to hold onto expectations for something different. He had wanted something better. If it lay within his power to obtain it, he would seize it. Somehow. Somewhere. Someday.
Fortitude.
His mental and physical endurance grew. His strength grew, in body and in spirit. Whether good or evil, his actions had begun to increase the depth of his courage. He was layin the groundwork for the future.
Prudence.
He had learned caution and carefulness. He had begun to understand the true meaning of wisdom, as opposed to the nonsense that many elders spouted. Vigilance had become a part of his every waking thought.
Charity.
That had been rare at first, but the seed had germinated. On occasion, when his memories of his parents' kindness overpowered more recent memories of harshness and injustice, he made it a point to help those in need. True, it was often as a means to obtain something for himself later on, but it was a start.
One thought branched off into two, with those two giving rise to three, four, or five each. True memories. Hazy recollections. Youthful interpretations and later musings. Different times, places, and circumstances. His mind tried to follow some twisted and tangled skein, wanting to understand which steps led to others.
Did the fact that he would go on to save countless oppressed and endangered people justify the acts he had committed in his youth? Were the hard times he had faced---and the drastic steps he had taken---the fire that was needed to temper his steel? Could he be the force for good he was today, if he had not faced evil first hand during his formative years?
"Urzu 6 and Urzu 7, stay sharp. We're past the point of no return. If this mission is going to get done, it has to be tonight. Turn that damn racket down, Weber!" Sgt. Major Mao's message brought him temporarily back to the here and now.
He shook his head.
It was easy to picture Sgt. Weber in his pilot's chair, moving to some obnoxiously loud music.
Sousuke had another thought, as his M9 lumbered along. Was he himself the fire to Kaname's steel? Did her continual survival make the hardships she faced at his hand meaningful ? Was she learning something crucial from the adventures they had? Some day, if he had to leave her, would the things he instilled in her make it easier for her to survive?
Capricious, his thoughts changed yet again and flitted across his mind much like the fragments of palm tree fronds he saw blowing past the external viewer on his Arm Slave. A collage of memories fused, split, and combined yet again:
Grenades went off in class.
He had... eventually... realized that he had been acting without thinking, and without provocation... long after the fact. The injuries had been minor and the damage had been limited, but that wasn't his teacher's major concern. Just where was his judgment? What would happen the next time? Did he belong in a class of 'normal' students?
Normal.
Not him.
A bust for Art class was destroyed.
It had looked as if someone were attacking Kaname. His reactions and reflexes calibrated for the battlefield, should he have approached things differently? Was it even possible for him then? Now? In any case, his precipitous act ruined something that Kaname had put a lot of work into.
She had made a lot of effort to turn her life around, too. Was he ruining that for her as well?
Shoe boxes and love letters ceased to be.
At least he could now claim to have made SOME progress. Looking back on those episodes, he couldn't believe he had taken things to such an extreme. True, he had used a time honored way of neutralizing threats; but, his threat assessment had left a lot to be desired. It was school, not the dusty halls of some foreign politsburo. After the first incident, he had even watched a girl waiting for him, keeping her in the crosshairs of his rifle.
The girl looked at him as if he had crawled out of the primordial muck and slime. Kaname had treated him like he was a blight on existence. Mithril had gotten another hefty clandestine bill for damages.
Plenty of people know of the dangers associated with moving a wild animal out of its environment. Some simply wither away and die. Others may appear tame, but savage some unsuspecting soul later on.
Savage.
To savage. To be a savage.
Him.
An art class was confronted with tricks and traps.
It was embarrassing to him now, realizing how wrong his interpretations had been. The other students had expected a peaceful day of meditation, discovery, and sketching. He had given them explosives, deadfalls, pits, and adhesive trap materials. Kaname had called him on his cellular phone, telling he was mistaken and asking him to stop. He had been too bullheaded. Only his own interpretation had mattered. His fellow students had been expendable, of less value to him than the completion of some imagined mission.
He had stolen a bicycle, and left it dismantled, strewn across the slope of a public lawn.
Some was bereft of a possession, for no reason other than the fact that he had not wanted to be late for school. He had been afraid of what Kaname might say or do. His need to correct his earlier error lead to thoughtless and inappropriate behavior. Furthermore, he had involved Kaname in his impropriety.
Having been thrown in front of a speeding taxi cab was no excuse. The fact that Kaname had seemed happy for a while, riding on the back of the appropriated cycle was no justification.
He had roughed up a man and stolen an amusement park mascot suit.
Again, he had been driven by the need to protect Kaname. He had no problem with that in retrospect. But, to keep his presence a secret from her... and to prevent her from truly hating him... he had harmed an innocent man entertaining children, and had swiped a custom-made suit that served his immediate and selfish needs. Furthermore, seeing a tactical use for the suit, he had never returned it.
The man in the suit had not been his adversary. His missions were not being run behind enemy lines. The disregard he showed for life, limb, and property was acceptable in battle, but not in polite society.
Different people had tried repeatedly to bang that fact into his head. It was only now beginning to sink in.
Some.
He had brought an unknown bio-agent into school.
How could he have done that? What if it really HAD been Ebola or some other weaponized strain?
He had been so impatient, so intent on finding out why he had been sent the wrong item, that he never stopped to reckon the potential risk and cost to his peers. True, who would expect someone to mistake the canister as a Thermos and to consume the contents? But, that couldn't have happened if he had left the item some place secure... or had simply kept it in his grasp while he made the call.
People had been terrorized---they thought they were going to die. Everyone had been scandalized---standing naked in front of members of the opposite sex had not been on their list of school assignments.
He was fortunate that anyone spoke to him after that? They hadn't for a while. IT took a great deal of effort by the Financial and Public Relations Divisions within Mithril to diffuse that blunder.
None of that took into consideration the way he had treated Kaname in the nurse's office. His thoughts and urges at the time had been....
Censored
He had yelled at Kaname aboard the TDD-1, when all she had been doing was trying to comfort him.
At the time, he didn't care. His own misery, confusion, and failure were his only concern. It hadn't registered on his screens that Kaname might have feelings too. She didn't really know him, so her words meant nothing. At that moment, SHE had meant nothing. Things hadn't been easy for her either, but she reached out to comfort him. His actions had her running from the locker room in tears.
There was no avoiding the glaring light of Truth. Those had all been detrimental or disruptive events, with little or no selfless justification. He could make excuses until the cows came home, but that wouldn't change the facts. But, in the interest of Justice, he had to admit that there had also been positive events with desirable outcomes. It was a matter of balance. Which way would the scale tip? He forced himself to remember the good as well as the bad:
He reached out emotionally to Kaname on a railway bench.
It hadn't been much of a step, but he had surprised himself with the effort. Her reaction had confused, him, and also made him realize that he might indeed want to fit in with people his age. The fact that he had jumped from a moving train... rolled hard against the concrete waiting area... and knocked over a heavy bench... did not bode well for his initial success in that endeavor.
In any case, he found himself opening up to Kaname in ways he had never done with comrades who had been more important in his life. Kurz, Melissa, and Lt. Cmdr. Kalinin came to mind. So did men and women who had died.
How long would Kaname be in his life? Did she even want him to be there?
Surrounded, in a foreign land, he had listened to her and helped save them and Kurz.
Her assistance with Arbalest was crucial, but that wasn't Kaname's major contribution. She had said that she didn't want him to just go out and die. They had stared at each other at one point, saying one another's names. The feelings inside him then were strong but baffling. He had no idea what to do at that time, regarding the look on her face or her magnetic physical proximity.
But, he had listened to her. His stubbornness had given way to hope, determination, and cooperation. If he hadn't, they would all be dead today.
Intent on rescuing her, he leaped off of a cliff with her in his arms, a balloon slowing their descent.
Yes, Kaname had not been in any danger. His interpretation of the situation left something to be desired, but he continued to be an advocate of being safe rather than sorry. It had taken great skill and perseverance scaling those imposing cliffs. The bodyguards had been no slouches, but he won his way through.
He had been worried about her.
It hadn't just been duty and obligation
He admitted his fear to Kaname, fooled into thinking she had been covered with blood instead of paint.
He had been concerned. There was no denying that. His heart had been beating out of control and he hadn't known what to do for an instant. When he found out it was paint instead of blood, he was relieved, but his reaction had left him in doubt. What was Kaname Chidori to him? She had wanted to know how he felt at the moment. The question itself had him somewhat uneasy. But, he had answered truthfully... the first time she asked.
That bicycle ride home had felt... different.
Dressed in the pilfered Bonta-Kun suit, he had watched over her to make certain she was safe.
What he had told Kyouko was true. He would defend Kaname, no matter who she was with. Much of that had to do with duty and professional responsibility... but not all of it... maybe not even most of it. Her later conversation with Bonta-Kun had left him feeling strange inside, as if something were right in the world.
He had protected her from gangsters. He had tried to do his best to respect her privacy. He had not run away from her gentle admissions.
Furthermore, before she had even gone to the amusement park, he had offered to help her when she seemed distraught and distracted.
It was not a mission requirement.
In the kitchen of Da Dannan, he had made an effort to connect with Kaname and show her that she did matter. At his special fishing spot, he had told her that he felt as if he could do anything when she was with him.
He owed credit to Kurz, for pushing him towards an apology. But, the word that he said and the feelings that they invoked had been his own. He had begun to accept Kaname as someone he could depend on. Later, he spoke for both his and her sake, sharing the fact that he felt that he could do anything when she was around.
She seemed happy to hear that.
There had been no anger or disappointment when he resumed his mission at Jindai High.
With dusk approaching, he had stood by a lake and told Kaname that she was beautiful.
It had not come out unprompted, but he had said it just the same. It had even felt good to say it. After that, somehow, he began answering things more directly, without so much guilt or evasion. The following weeks had seen a renaissance. Each truth made the next truth easier. Each admission had Kaname opening up to him more herself.
She criticized him less and encouraged him more. She followed him around as much as he followed her.
Sousuke thought about things he had read about. Mastodons and early humans had been found trapped in the ice for millennia, well preserved.
Sometimes he himself felt like that. Is view of life had always been so blurry, as if he was staring from within a block of ice. His choices in life had been limited. There had never seemed to be any need or chance to break free and do something radically different.
Was that ice melting? If it was, would the tissue inside be well preserved but dead just the same? There had been something else he had read about once.
There was an insect in New Zealand that had a physical appearance looking like a cross between a cockroach and a cricket. In the absence of any land snakes in New Zealand, weta have come to represent, for New Zealanders, the revulsion at things that creep and crawl in the dark.
There might be some parallel there, with a young operative you snuck about performing secret duties .
The Mountain Rock Weta have special proteins in their hemolymph---the insect equivalent of blood---which prevent ice from forming in their cells. This enables them to survive at temperatures down to –10°C, even when 82 percent of their body water has frozen. Trapped in ice, they would be alive when it thawed out.
Kaname seemed to be responsible for the slow and subtle melting of his ice. He wasn't certain what it meant.
It might be a moot point, any way.
Yes, his thoughts were indeed a mixed bag. If he were an avid pool player like Kurz, he might have said he had run the table.
Arrogance. Interruption. Arguing.
He saw plenty of evidence of those.
Trust, Mercy, Impartiality, and Help.
He could claim each of those as well.
Moderastion and Restraint?
Well, he remained weak there, despite it all. Yet, to be honest, he would have to admit that he wasn't a total lost cause in that regard.
Impatience, Stubbornness, and Ingratitude.
He had shown improvements in those areas. Was that because he was growing up, evolving into a more complete person? Or, was it simply a matter of circumstances? Perhaps he had been put in fewer situations that would allow him to see his lurking shortcomings.
Anger and Worry.
Truthfully, that hadn't gotten much better. But, on the flipside, he could say that they hadn't gotten any worse either. His anger was more directed, as was his worry. He did not like to see things threaten Kaname or make her unhappy. It was less about events, and more about her.
Fairness, Discretion, and Benevolence.
He was making progress with those.
No, better strike those last two.
What was the fullest measure of his success in his undercover mission???
That had to be based on the fact that Kaname was still alive. She had faced a number of dangerous and difficult situations, and he had been able to rescue her from them time and time again.
Still, for every good thing he brought Kaname, he seemed to bring her two bad things. Was that a fact, or was he being overly harsh with himself? There was no denying the fact that many of the catastrophes she had found herself embroiled in came about because of him, his poor judgment, or his inability to fit into everyday society.
And the fullest measure of his growth as a man???
That rested on different criteria altogether. Was he improving? Or, was he becoming more of a burden to Kaname than he was worth?
Could he find a way to maximize the joy, peace, and stability he brought to her life, while minimizing the pain and disorder?
Did she take any joy in his presence, when all was said and done? Why did he find himself wanting that? Was it for her sake, or for his own?
Why would he... a consummate soldier... want such a thing?
Sousuke had to pry his hand off of the control lever. His grip had become so tight, that his arm muscles were locked in a painful spasm. The blurriness in his vision was evidence that he was hyperventilating. He needed to calm down. His thoughts had been becoming too intense, too jumbled. He could not possibly hope to distill everything he had been---and everything he had done---into one neat container. It was pointless to attempt the impossible.
He needed moderation, mercy, and fairness more than ever. For himself.
He was not Kaname's enemy.
He could not change the past.
He should be wary of setting unattainable goals.
Massaging one arm at a time, he came to another realization. It was good that he wanted to become worthy of Kaname's admiration and trust. But, he had to be patient. He had to risk failing. He also had to risk succeeding.
He could not rush that. He could not force himself to change overnight. If things didn't come naturally, they wouldn't come at all.
And some decisions were not his to make.
At least not yet.
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A restrained beeping noise could be heard. The strip of lights encircling the view screen were pulsing on and off.
Two more Egyptian Army vehicles registered on his short range radar screen, their visual contact being obscured by an impending sandstorm. Holding his breath, he saw them veer away from his current heading just moments before they crossed into a mandatory kill zone.
The camels that showed up on his infrared scanner were in no such danger. He was pretty certain that Sgt. Major Mao would trust them to keep silent.
Exhausted from his counting of virtues and sins, Sousuke found himself breaking one of Sagara's Rules Of Battle. His mind wandered far further than it should. He began to ponder the significance of a story he had read: The Doomed Prince, also called by some The Crocodile, theSnake, and the Dog:
One of the kings of Egypt was unhappy, for he had no son to rule in his place, once he was gone. He prayed to the gods, who answered his prayers, and a son was born to him. But, the seven Hathors announced that this prince would die by either a snake, a crocodile or a dog.
The King was informed of this prediction. He ordered that the child be kept within a palace in the desert and guarded at all times.
The boy grew strong and tall. One day he climbed to the top of the wall of his palace, and saw a man walking with a dog. He asked a servant what that animal was, and was informed that it was a dog. The prince wanted a dog of his own, and ordered the servant to bring him one. The king was informed of his son's desire for a dog. The king gave in to his son's desire, and gave him a dog.
The prince grew to become a young man. And he complained to his father the king, saying, "Why am I kept a prisoner? I am destined to die either by a snake, a crocodile, or a dog. It is the will of the gods. Then let me live my life, while it lasts." The king eventually consented, giving his son weapons, and sending him and his dog to a foreign land.
In the foreign land, he encountered a beautiful princess. The king of this land had no son, and desired a husband for his daughter, the princess. Those who wished to marry the princess had to climb a wall to reach the princess. Every day, young men tried to climb the wall, and failed. The Egyptian prince climbed the wall, and won the heart of the princess.
The king asked who had won his daughter. And the prince answered that he was the son of one of the soldiers of the king of Egypt, and that he had run away from home. In anger, the king refused to let his daughter marry a commoner. His daughter threatened to neither eat nor drink until they be married. The king demanded that the young man be killed. His daughter threatened to kill herself, if he were killed. The king gave in to his daughter, and they were married.
Once they were married, the prince told his wife of his destiny, to be killed by a snake, a crocodile, or a dog. His wife responded that they should kill the dog, immediately. The prince refused, saying that his dog would never harm him.
A crocodile rose from the river, each night. But it was prevented from attacking the prince, by the presence of a giant who protected the prince.
One night, while the prince slept, the princess saw a snake come into their bedroom, and creep toward the sleeping prince. She trapped the snake and killed it. She woke the prince, and showed him the dead snake, and the prince marveled at this. She said, "See, the gods have allowed me to remove one of your three fates." The prince made offerings, and thanked the gods.
One day, the prince came to the river, and the crocodile spoke to him. The crocodile said that he would eventually kill the prince, when the giant lowered his guard.
One night, the prince and his wife were out walking. The crocodile, hiding in the reeds, saw that the giant had not noticed him, and that an attack on the prince would probably succeed. The crocodile rushed from hiding, and attacked the prince, injuring him. But the dog jumped between the crocodile and the prince, distracting the crocodile. The giant drove a large spear through the crocodile's heart.
The princess saw that the crocodile was dead, and that her husband was still alive, although seriously injured. A servant was sent to find a doctor. In tears, the princess whispered to her unconscious husband, "Now, two of your fates have been removed. Forgive me, but I must remove the third fate." And she told the giant to kill the dog, which was standing guard over its master. The giant killed the dog.
But, the crocodile was not yet dead. It made one last attack. And the prince and the crocodile died together.
Soon, the princess gave birth to a son, the prince's son. This son eventually ruled Egypt. Even so, the princess lived the rest of her days in regret about her own actions.
His head throbbing, Sousuke tried to make sense of the story from his own perspective. How did the lessons inherent in that tale apply to his life as a soldier? Could he take anything from that tale as a portent of his relationship with Kaname?
One cannot avoid Destiny.
He wasn't certain he believed in Destiny.
He tended to put a lot of faith in his speed, dexterity, and decision- making abilities. That could be Faith, or it could be Arrogance. Perhaps some of both.
Fate was a much more comfortable concept than Destiny, given the amount of time he routinely spent in battle. Still, it may well be his destiny to die by a bullet. Worrying too much about that was more likely to get him shot than it was prevent any such injury.
A person trying to be helpful may well cause harm to befall the one he wishes to help
That one had indeed struck close to home. It dredged up memories of civilians who had died as a result of his actions---they had been men and women he was fighting to protect. War often brought about such paradoxes.
Carefulness and emotional sobriety.
Those should be packed away in every soldier's kit.
He was no exception.
He also thought about Kaname, and the way that she had been hurt on occasion as a result of his actions. In the past, he had simply written such things off as the cost of action, even though her plight had left him feeling sorrowful or guilty.
Now, his heart was much less callous, and he dreaded making any mistake that would injure her. He couldn't help but ask himself a dark and drastic question. Could some error of his cause her death? What would life hold for him after that? Despite the fact that his assignment to her was someone else's decision, he held a tremendous responsibility in his hands.
One should not rush into conclusions regarding success or failure.
There was ample historical documentation of that lesson. How man battles had been lost by commanders who were too quick to celebrate? How many times had the tides of war been turned by those who refused to believe what others thought was obvious?
He could apply the rule to Kaname as well. Her reactions may often be a sign of his failure. But, they could just as easily be a reflection of unrealistic expectations on her part. He was finding it extremely difficult to understand women. He was not alone in that regard.
But, he had changed. At first, he hadn't even wanted to be around her. Then, he had grown accustomed to being around her, but had little desire to probe her thoughts and needs. Now, he found himself wanting to understand her.
He might even want her to understand him, too. What chance was there of that, if he was having so much trouble assessing himself?
If one allows it, he can suffer grievously over things that were beyond his ability to control or prevent.
Yes.
Kaname. Mushrooms. A sick sister. World safety. Duty. Friendship.
Sometimes, a person cannot satisfy everybody. He cannot always satisfy any one person in every way that she wants, or be there every moment that she needs satisfaction.
There was only so much he could do.
It was simply a matter of priorities.
The truth did not lessen his pain.
Not one single bit.
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Almost asleep at the stick, Sousuke was jarred back to full awareness by the sound of a strident and insistent threat detector. Three large vehicles were heading in his direction. Eighteen-wheel trucks. A glance at his position indicator told him that he had lagged precipitously. The rest of the Mithril troops were far ahead of him and had not noticed his tardiness.
He typed a query into the onboard computer.
A GPS grid appeared on his HUD. The trucks were coming from the direction of the temples at Abu Simbel. That was an unwanted discovery. His head now clear, he still found himself deep within the Fogs of War. Did those trucks carry mushrooms, or the poison derived from them?
There was no way to be sure, strapped into the cockpit of his M9.
Or, were they simply innocent men, determined to carry out their responsibilities despite the fierce some weather? The possibility existed that they had honest business in the vicinity of the temples, or had taken a long and winding road that simply put them on a concerning vector.
This was a predicament.
The worst thing that could happen would be for the trucks to somehow become aware of the Arm Slave and call in their discovery--that would be a horrendous setback if the drivers were indeed terrorists. He could not allow that to happen.
A full out attack could obliterate all three vehicles before the men had any idea what hit them. But, that carried worth it the risk of killing innocent bystanders. That would be even more unfortunate than soldiers giving their lives for their country.
They could be men or women simply trying to practice their trade---much like his parents had been.
There was a middle ground. If the ECS system was still effective, he could knock over one of the trucks and look inside. It might leave a mystery, if the drivers were innocent. Mithril left more mysteries in its wake than any organization had a right to. One more probably wouldn'tmatter.
However, If the sand made his M9 visible, he might be forced to kill people he was convinced were innocent.
There was still time to think. It was not his decision.
"Urzu 2, this is Urzu 7. Do you copy? Over."
The five seconds that it took for Sgt. Major Mao to reply seemed like an eternity. He kept his Hellbore activated, and had one finger on a button that would launch a flight of missiles.
"Urzu 7, I read you. Sousuke, what are you doing?" Melissa sounded irate and sheepish at the same time. She realized how far back Sousuke was. She also realized that she had not discovered that by her own volition.
"I have company, Sgt. Major." He detailed his situation and asked for orders.
"Burn them, Sgt. Sagara. Literally." Melissa's voice had been resolute. She was not willing to take any risks.
"Should I check the remains, Sgt, Major?"
"Negative. Finish the job and catch up as quickly as possible. Urzu 2 out."
Sousuke did not hesitate. He pushed his M9 into a run. Switches thrown, the pilot flame on the Hellbore gave way to a molten torrent of destruction.. Coming in from the most advantageous angle, he torched one truck after another. Dark oily smoke was immediately dispersed by the violent swirling winds. The napalm-like solution coating the trucks was insatiable, its flames lapping at the available oxygen greedily. Even brief gusts of gale force wind could not extinguish the unholy blaze.
Sousuke stared at a scene that could have been taken out of the Inferno.
An arm slumped out of an open window, the flesh charring to nothingness as he watched.
The wages of sin.
Those may have been innocent men.
Or, they may have been men long overdue in Hell.
There had been no time or inclination to check the nature of the beast. He had to assume it was a crocodile, and he had to make completely certain that the creature was dead, unable to drag someone down with it.
It was his duty to shake off the encounter and move on.
The image of amorphous formless shapes walking through the streets of the quiet village might bring back superstitions regarding the ancient gods.
It might very well draw the attention of the Egyptian government, or members of the targeted terrorist group.
Melissa's M9 headed out first, its Bofors in hand and its primary systems set to infrared. Woe betide any hostile forces that might happen upon her unawares. The first two troop carriers followed, their huge wheels churning up the dust as they sped on their way. Watchful men in the machine gun rings wore cloth over the mouths and noses. Goggles protected their eyes from the stinging particles
Kurz trudged along next, a giant sniper rifle cradled in the grasp of his Arm Slave. Two more troop carriers preceded Sousuke, whose craft brought up the rear. His M9 was carrying a Hellbore flame cannon---if they came across any truck or vehicle carrying the mushrooms, he would end their threat once and for all.
'We should bring stuff for Barbeque,' Kurz had said when they checked their provisions.
Melissa had scorched his posterior with her butane lighter.
ECS or no ECS, Sousuke felt somewhat naked without air cover. True, the Mithril soldiers all wore Egyptian Army uniforms---and the troop carriers were decked out in Egyptian colors and insignia---but they would be headed into places where standard troops would have no business venturing.
Mithril may have owned technological superiority, but the sovereign forces of Egypt had numbers and home court advantage.
The young soldier could find no comfort in the seat of the M9. It was not because Sousuke was piloting something other than Arbalest---the logistics of the mission had precluded that. No, it was because his very soul felt at if it too was naked. Memories rushed in... recollections of a desert far away... thoughts of a time long ago.
The process was beginning in earnest.
It was as if he had walked into the Hall of Judgment.
He fully expected to be looking into the polished teeth of a jackal-headed deity any moment now.
The thoughts swirled faster and fiercer than the desert sands outside. He saw uncertain images of the Mission building in Kabul, the place of his earliest memories. His mother was there. Did she really look like that. His father was there too. Why did his face have to be blurry? Two other forms faded in and out of focus. His brother and sister. He would give anything to remember something substantial about them.
Once again, he felt the deafening concussion of bombs. He heard the abrupt smashing of doors. Blood---that was the first day he had truly smelled blood. The acrid taste of fear filled his mouth, then as it had in those darkest of days. Every part of his bottle tingled, then went numb.
There were forms in his mind, hideous amorphous forms. They seemed like Giants. They moved like ghosts. Russian soldiers, seen through a young child's eyes. They were replaced by the bodies of his family... some killed by falling bits of building... the others ruthlessly brutalized and killed by the uniformed fiends
In his eyes, there was no clemency given a child..
His sins were clear to him.
Fear.
He had run. He had run as fast as he could, never looking back. He never once checked to see if anyone in his family was still alive.
Selfishness.
Again, he had though only of his survival. He was swallowed up by his own pain and fear.
Guilt.
When he reached a place of relative safety, he had begun to blame himself for what happened. Somehow, he decided that the soldiers must have come because of HIM and him alone. Perhaps it was because of the small roll he had stolen from the street vendor the day before last. Maybe it was due to the evil thoughts he had about the invading troops. Could someone have discovered the drawing he made of those hated men?
There had been no place for reasoned thought then.
Worry.
It became his life's blood. Worry helped him eat. Worry helped him drink. Worry helped find him places to hide. Worry drove him to find places to sleep. It shaped who he was then.
Were there any virtues brought to light that day? If he were charitable, he could mention that he had survived where everyone else had perished. But, that was by good fortune, not as a result of some great deed of his. Nevertheless, he felt a need to justify his actions. He had only been a small child.
Did that matter?
The small convoy took a turn off of the main concourse. They headed towards more lightly populated areas. Sousuke's thoughts changed their direction as well.
He envisioned himself sitting in Lt. Cmdr. Kalinin's office. He was told about a new assignment. He would be bodyguarding a civilian girl. Her picture---taken years earlier---meant nothing to him at that moment. She was only a mission. The unsuspected and unwanted task displeased him. His attitude and reactions had been less than ideal.
Sloth.
He had no desire to leave the sub, to take on that assignment. He was content in his current existence, and did not wish to experience such a difficult transition.
Insolence.
He had wanted to throw the mission dossier in the trash. While he did not, his eyes had conveyed his true feelings. It was a foolish decision, guarding some girl. Other people could do that. He was a Specialist.
Fear.
He would not acknowledge his feelings at the time, but he realized all too well that he was not fit for the real world. What did he know about it? How could he blend in successfully? Why should he be on his own again?
Arrogance.
It was a babysitting assignment! How could a blue-haired girl count for more than an ace Arm Slave pilot? Any number of ground huggers and box pushers could handle that kind of work.
Sousuke's M9 stepped into a deceptive cut in the land. He felt a brief sinking sensation, then a jarring halt. The Arm Slave had found a sand- filled crevice and was sunk up to its primary leg joints. Extending his arm cord, Sousuke used the free arm to push the A.S. out while Kurz' machine pulled on the line.
Just as suddenly as his M9 had succumbed to the environment, Sousuke's memories blurred, wavered, then reformed. He stood in front of his new classmates at Jindai High School.
Lying.
It became a huge part of his life, in a professional sense. It was necessary for his cover. He did not like the CD he claimed were his favorites. He really WAS a sergeant. Those were the tamest of the lies he would tell.
Insolence and Disrespect.
He had burst into the girl's locker room while they were in various stages of undress, caring more about the slim chance of a mission failure more than he did about the sanctity of the room or the feelings of its residents.
He also realized that he had been plain stupid. But, that was not a sin.
Excuse making.
Caught by the girls, he had resorted to lame excuses. More lies. Even more stupidity. He shook his head. It was hard to believe that he had claimed that he wanted to join their team.
Bitterness and Self-pity.
Dragging himself back to the safe house, handcuffed to a metal folding chair, he had blamed his superiors... cursed his luck... and hated his life. A Specialist, cuffed to a metal chair, by a bunch of teenage softball players!
Irresponsibility.
When he later listened to the wire tap on the girl's phone---hearing that she thought he was 'interesting'---his thoughts had been wild and undisciplined . He had come close to refusing any further involvement in the mission.
Again, there were plausible reasons for many of his actions. But, that didn't mean anything. Criminals can also explain in great detail why they do the things they do.
That was the negative side of the ledger. What did he have to show on the positive side? Had he done anything constructive? Did he experience any noteworthy or admirable feelings?
Faith?
No. He hadn't exactly bee a vessel of unbounded faith.
Hope?
Right! Things had looked as bleak as they had ever been.
Charity?
The only thing he would have shared with anyone those days was a bullet to the head.
Fortitude?
No. For someone who could survive any climate... get by in any natural surroundings... and defeat any enemy... he was exhausted by the end of his first day of school.
Temperance or Prudence?
Anything but! But, when had he ever shown those, except where they were built into sound military doctrine.
Setting the M9 on auto-pilot for a few moments, Sousuke rubbed at his eyes. Kaname had meant nothing to him then. He never would have guessed how that would change, just as she could never have guessed the kinds of things she would be annoyed and tormented by.
Was her life better for having him around, or worse? Were things improving now that his feelings for her were evolving and he was more receptive to her suggestions and complaints?
Voyeurism.
Normally, that would be the last thing he would be concerned about. But, was there more than one way to get satisfaction or a thrill from watching someone? Did he get a view of normal life by keeping an eye on Kaname?
Maybe.
Perhaps the converse was true as well. Did his actions give her a chance to get a view of an abnormal life?
Abuse.
Were the countless awkward or unusual circumstances Kaname was forced to deal with on his behalf an abuse of her once happy life?
The sound of a jangling goat bell brought his mind back to the present, just in time. He quickly shut off the auto-pilot and grabbed the control lever. The M9's huge metal foot hovered unseen just above the head of a young goat herder carrying a young animal.
Somehow, the goats sense the Arm Slave was there. The boy never realized how close to death he had come.
Irresponsibility.
He had come close to stealing that child's every hope and dream.
It was not the first time Sousuke had been in such a situation. This time, however, the results were much more favorable. He had no wish to revisit those days. But, sooner or later, those thoughts would barge through the door into his mind uninvited.
Sousuke sighed. It felt as if it were going to be a long mission, even before any type of fighting or guard duty took place.
Part of his mind had locked onto a target of uncertain value. Just what good could possible come from self-examination? Would he suffer collateral damage?
Wasn't there a reason that he usually suppressed his thoughts and feelings automatically?
Would he be fighting on two fronts at once?
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Sousuke took a moment to dismount and check the ground. He wanted to make certain that there was no trace whatsoever of the task he had just finished. Before climbing back into his M9, he stood a moment in the hot wind, lost in thought.
Some things are a matter of perspective.
Depending on a man's frame of reference---and cultural, ethnic, and societal norms---certain things can be viewed as good by some people, and bad by others.
In contrast, there were also things that were much less ambiguous.
"It's not a question of good or bad. It was a matter of necessity."
Sousuke's heart and mind were not in total agreement at the moment.
A small cluster of Egyptian soldiers had lain dead in the wreckage of their burning truck. The armed men had challenged the drivers of the transporters.
Rightfully so.
They had made their stand when their commands were rebuffed, and they had done so with courage and admirable teamwork. All had died when unseen forces beyond their imagining ripped their bodies to shred and exploded the truck.
Each and every one might leave behind a wife and children to mourn their mysterious disappearance.
It was all too easy to claim the actions were necessary. The reasons all made perfect sense.
The Mithril troops could not afford to be stopped.
True. If they were not able to prevent the harvesting, processing, and shipping of the mushrooms, many more people would be mourning.
They could not risk that the terrorists could not be alarmed or alerted.
That followed naturally from the first point. How many mushrooms would it take to wipe out a village... a burg... a town... a city... a national capitol? How many shipments might get past them for every minute headstart the enemy got?
There was no time or place for captives.
They had no room for error whatsoever. All of their forces needed to be allocated to the primary purpose. Any man left guarding prisoners was a man who was not fighting terrorists. Even their minimal level of deception would prove useless if a captive were allowed to speak.
No anesthetic agents had been loaded aboard any of the Mithril craft--- every spare space had already been accounted for.
That was a logistical fact. The powers that be had made there decision on captives, so the possibility of non-lethal methods were not even discussed. It was a brutal game, where the pawns were made of flesh and blood. The outcome of the game mattered more than any one piece.
Sousuke had been given the sad task of digging an unmarked grave and removing all trace of his activity. The monomolecular cutter could double as a long flat shovel in the soft and shifting sand. The rocket boosters on the back of the M9 smoothed the sand in the area he had completed his grisly task.
They couldn't even leave a marker to point the way for grieving family members.
He had not been the one who pulled the trigger. Sgt. Major Mao, as squad leader, had taken that burden upon herself. He had stood by and done nothing. He had not uttered a single word.
Furthermore, he would have given the same order.
The mission came first. Eight lives ceased to be, in hopes that millions of other lives could continue onward. Was this a sin? If so, did his soul share the burden? Were his hands dripping with the blood of innocent men by proxy?
His next thought made him shudder.
What if someone were forced to kill Kaname in similar fashion? Would that makes things any better? Would his feeling of loss be any less? Those thoughts were too disturbing to consider now.
This was not the first time he had been assailed by his hibernating conscience. But, it was by far the most troubled he had ever been. Something had knocked holes in the walls he had built around himself.
The excuses swirled around in his head, seemingly of their own accord. He wanted to stop such thoughts, but he couldn't. Not only were the recent actions on trial, but his entire life too!
It was for a good cause.
Yes, but he didn't need to hear that. Not again and again and again.
At least it was painless.
That was probably true, but who could say? He remembered countless other enemies who had not been so fortunate. Heir cries joined in an unholy chorus.
Many other people would benefit.
Yes. Maybe. Who could say. There was no guarantee they would succeed.
The terrorists were ultimately to blame.
No one could deny that. But, the terrorists had not pulled the trigger. They had not stood idly by as good and honest men died doing their sworn duty.
He had been ordered to stand by.
Every war or skirmish could claim some soldier who committed atrocities by way of orders. Who should take the blame? The soldier? The leaders? The situation that necessitated the fighting in the first place? And who was qualified to judge what was an atrocity and what was a necessity?
They could have been killed themselves if they failed to act.
Yes and no. Sousuke. Not Melissa or Kurz either. That type of squad may not even have been on active duty. At ,ost, they were patrolling. There was little likelihood that they had been equipped with anything that could have harmed any Arm Slave, much less an M9. Only the Mithril troops had been at risk.
Any other armed force would have done the same.
True. The only ones that wouldn't would be those that couldn't. The cost of duty is not light. Ask any person on the street about soldiers, and they will understand the physical sacrifices they sometimes have to make. Few would truly understand the other burdens they must bear.
It is an accepted truism that the victors write history. They have a chance to paint any happening in a manner of their choosing for posterity's sake. Some individuals operate in the same manner. Sousuke couldn't. At least not then.
Sousuke banged his fist flat against his forehead, trying to break up the swarming mass of thoughts.
The potential excuses were endless. None of them made him feel better, but nothing had convinced him that any other course would have been better. The bottom line remained. There was a job to be done. They would bring thunder, death, and destruction and let God reckon the cost.
The small but powerful forced moved on after everyone was set. They would reach their goal near dusk. That would prove ideal for their plans. As the daylight faded, the ghosts in Sousuke's memories arrived in force once more.
Once again winds of his mind blew him back to the past. He was still a boy in those images, but he had taken his first big steps away from innocence. There had been no family or friends he could turn to. He learned by watching, just how terrible the conditions were in the street-side and state-run orphanages and shelters. The abuse had been unspeakable, worse than anything done by the invaders. He would not subject himself to that. Not at any price.
Still, those institutions served him well.
He learned to be a thief, stealing the food and supplies he needed from them. It never crossed his mind that every bite of food he pilfered was once less bite of food for someone else. The warmth of the blankets he made off with was something he could sense. The shivering of some other deprived youth was not.
Stealing.
It had kept him alive. It helped teach him stealth. It forced him to value necessity more than morals, when he had to chose one or the other.
Extortion.
He began bullying other vagrants and unfortunates. He had been terribly wronged, so he felt no compulsion against doing the same to those who were weaker or slower than himself.
For a moment, the self examination stopped.
He realized just how much he owed Lt. Cmdr. Kalinin and the men that came before him. It was a miracle that he had any sense of justice, temperance, or charity at all. The road ahead of him was long, and filled with confusing twists and turns; but, he was much further along than he had any right to be.
He realized another thing. Kaname needed to be added to that list.
Whether or not she realized it, there was no doubt that she had helped him grow as well. He should be feeling some form of gratitude in that regard. Instead, he struggled against a sense of impending loss. Would Kaname ever forgive him for abandoning her in her time of need?
That train of thought was pointless at the moment. Kaname was thousands of miles away. What had been said, was said. What had been done, was done. Instead, Sousuke's thoughts back once more to his aimless days on the streets of Kabul.
Trespassing.
He recognized no moral or ethical boundaries, only physical ones. Any place he could go, he went, if looked as if he could get back out again.
Cheating.
By necessity, he learned to barter and to trade. Hard times and a growing hatred of con artists and shill men drove him to outdo those who would do unto him.
Gluttony.
It was a relative thing. He had stolen and extorted more than he needed to survive, but appropriated less than he would have been given freely had his parents been alive. They had been generous, even though they were of poor means. He decided that other people owed him the things he had never been able to receive.
Hypocrisy.
Whenever the opportunity arose, he spoke out against the Russians for the crimes they committed. Yet, he did many of those same things himself. He was not a murderer; but that would come soon enough. He had not been taken over by hate, revenge, judgment, and stubbornness; but, that time had been fast approaching.
Sousuke shivered, thinking back to those times. He had been little more than an animal. That same raw and lawless part still reached out to grab hold of him at times, in the heat of battle, or in a heated competition.
Should he be ashamed? Ruthlessness in combat was one of the things that kept bringing him back alive.
Again, it was time to balance the tally sheets.
Were there any things that could be said in his favor?
Yes. He could not deny the truth. Sometimes strengths are born out of adversity.
Hope.
Despite the fact that his world had collapsed around him, he still managed to hold onto expectations for something different. He had wanted something better. If it lay within his power to obtain it, he would seize it. Somehow. Somewhere. Someday.
Fortitude.
His mental and physical endurance grew. His strength grew, in body and in spirit. Whether good or evil, his actions had begun to increase the depth of his courage. He was layin the groundwork for the future.
Prudence.
He had learned caution and carefulness. He had begun to understand the true meaning of wisdom, as opposed to the nonsense that many elders spouted. Vigilance had become a part of his every waking thought.
Charity.
That had been rare at first, but the seed had germinated. On occasion, when his memories of his parents' kindness overpowered more recent memories of harshness and injustice, he made it a point to help those in need. True, it was often as a means to obtain something for himself later on, but it was a start.
One thought branched off into two, with those two giving rise to three, four, or five each. True memories. Hazy recollections. Youthful interpretations and later musings. Different times, places, and circumstances. His mind tried to follow some twisted and tangled skein, wanting to understand which steps led to others.
Did the fact that he would go on to save countless oppressed and endangered people justify the acts he had committed in his youth? Were the hard times he had faced---and the drastic steps he had taken---the fire that was needed to temper his steel? Could he be the force for good he was today, if he had not faced evil first hand during his formative years?
"Urzu 6 and Urzu 7, stay sharp. We're past the point of no return. If this mission is going to get done, it has to be tonight. Turn that damn racket down, Weber!" Sgt. Major Mao's message brought him temporarily back to the here and now.
He shook his head.
It was easy to picture Sgt. Weber in his pilot's chair, moving to some obnoxiously loud music.
Sousuke had another thought, as his M9 lumbered along. Was he himself the fire to Kaname's steel? Did her continual survival make the hardships she faced at his hand meaningful ? Was she learning something crucial from the adventures they had? Some day, if he had to leave her, would the things he instilled in her make it easier for her to survive?
Capricious, his thoughts changed yet again and flitted across his mind much like the fragments of palm tree fronds he saw blowing past the external viewer on his Arm Slave. A collage of memories fused, split, and combined yet again:
Grenades went off in class.
He had... eventually... realized that he had been acting without thinking, and without provocation... long after the fact. The injuries had been minor and the damage had been limited, but that wasn't his teacher's major concern. Just where was his judgment? What would happen the next time? Did he belong in a class of 'normal' students?
Normal.
Not him.
A bust for Art class was destroyed.
It had looked as if someone were attacking Kaname. His reactions and reflexes calibrated for the battlefield, should he have approached things differently? Was it even possible for him then? Now? In any case, his precipitous act ruined something that Kaname had put a lot of work into.
She had made a lot of effort to turn her life around, too. Was he ruining that for her as well?
Shoe boxes and love letters ceased to be.
At least he could now claim to have made SOME progress. Looking back on those episodes, he couldn't believe he had taken things to such an extreme. True, he had used a time honored way of neutralizing threats; but, his threat assessment had left a lot to be desired. It was school, not the dusty halls of some foreign politsburo. After the first incident, he had even watched a girl waiting for him, keeping her in the crosshairs of his rifle.
The girl looked at him as if he had crawled out of the primordial muck and slime. Kaname had treated him like he was a blight on existence. Mithril had gotten another hefty clandestine bill for damages.
Plenty of people know of the dangers associated with moving a wild animal out of its environment. Some simply wither away and die. Others may appear tame, but savage some unsuspecting soul later on.
Savage.
To savage. To be a savage.
Him.
An art class was confronted with tricks and traps.
It was embarrassing to him now, realizing how wrong his interpretations had been. The other students had expected a peaceful day of meditation, discovery, and sketching. He had given them explosives, deadfalls, pits, and adhesive trap materials. Kaname had called him on his cellular phone, telling he was mistaken and asking him to stop. He had been too bullheaded. Only his own interpretation had mattered. His fellow students had been expendable, of less value to him than the completion of some imagined mission.
He had stolen a bicycle, and left it dismantled, strewn across the slope of a public lawn.
Some was bereft of a possession, for no reason other than the fact that he had not wanted to be late for school. He had been afraid of what Kaname might say or do. His need to correct his earlier error lead to thoughtless and inappropriate behavior. Furthermore, he had involved Kaname in his impropriety.
Having been thrown in front of a speeding taxi cab was no excuse. The fact that Kaname had seemed happy for a while, riding on the back of the appropriated cycle was no justification.
He had roughed up a man and stolen an amusement park mascot suit.
Again, he had been driven by the need to protect Kaname. He had no problem with that in retrospect. But, to keep his presence a secret from her... and to prevent her from truly hating him... he had harmed an innocent man entertaining children, and had swiped a custom-made suit that served his immediate and selfish needs. Furthermore, seeing a tactical use for the suit, he had never returned it.
The man in the suit had not been his adversary. His missions were not being run behind enemy lines. The disregard he showed for life, limb, and property was acceptable in battle, but not in polite society.
Different people had tried repeatedly to bang that fact into his head. It was only now beginning to sink in.
Some.
He had brought an unknown bio-agent into school.
How could he have done that? What if it really HAD been Ebola or some other weaponized strain?
He had been so impatient, so intent on finding out why he had been sent the wrong item, that he never stopped to reckon the potential risk and cost to his peers. True, who would expect someone to mistake the canister as a Thermos and to consume the contents? But, that couldn't have happened if he had left the item some place secure... or had simply kept it in his grasp while he made the call.
People had been terrorized---they thought they were going to die. Everyone had been scandalized---standing naked in front of members of the opposite sex had not been on their list of school assignments.
He was fortunate that anyone spoke to him after that? They hadn't for a while. IT took a great deal of effort by the Financial and Public Relations Divisions within Mithril to diffuse that blunder.
None of that took into consideration the way he had treated Kaname in the nurse's office. His thoughts and urges at the time had been....
Censored
He had yelled at Kaname aboard the TDD-1, when all she had been doing was trying to comfort him.
At the time, he didn't care. His own misery, confusion, and failure were his only concern. It hadn't registered on his screens that Kaname might have feelings too. She didn't really know him, so her words meant nothing. At that moment, SHE had meant nothing. Things hadn't been easy for her either, but she reached out to comfort him. His actions had her running from the locker room in tears.
There was no avoiding the glaring light of Truth. Those had all been detrimental or disruptive events, with little or no selfless justification. He could make excuses until the cows came home, but that wouldn't change the facts. But, in the interest of Justice, he had to admit that there had also been positive events with desirable outcomes. It was a matter of balance. Which way would the scale tip? He forced himself to remember the good as well as the bad:
He reached out emotionally to Kaname on a railway bench.
It hadn't been much of a step, but he had surprised himself with the effort. Her reaction had confused, him, and also made him realize that he might indeed want to fit in with people his age. The fact that he had jumped from a moving train... rolled hard against the concrete waiting area... and knocked over a heavy bench... did not bode well for his initial success in that endeavor.
In any case, he found himself opening up to Kaname in ways he had never done with comrades who had been more important in his life. Kurz, Melissa, and Lt. Cmdr. Kalinin came to mind. So did men and women who had died.
How long would Kaname be in his life? Did she even want him to be there?
Surrounded, in a foreign land, he had listened to her and helped save them and Kurz.
Her assistance with Arbalest was crucial, but that wasn't Kaname's major contribution. She had said that she didn't want him to just go out and die. They had stared at each other at one point, saying one another's names. The feelings inside him then were strong but baffling. He had no idea what to do at that time, regarding the look on her face or her magnetic physical proximity.
But, he had listened to her. His stubbornness had given way to hope, determination, and cooperation. If he hadn't, they would all be dead today.
Intent on rescuing her, he leaped off of a cliff with her in his arms, a balloon slowing their descent.
Yes, Kaname had not been in any danger. His interpretation of the situation left something to be desired, but he continued to be an advocate of being safe rather than sorry. It had taken great skill and perseverance scaling those imposing cliffs. The bodyguards had been no slouches, but he won his way through.
He had been worried about her.
It hadn't just been duty and obligation
He admitted his fear to Kaname, fooled into thinking she had been covered with blood instead of paint.
He had been concerned. There was no denying that. His heart had been beating out of control and he hadn't known what to do for an instant. When he found out it was paint instead of blood, he was relieved, but his reaction had left him in doubt. What was Kaname Chidori to him? She had wanted to know how he felt at the moment. The question itself had him somewhat uneasy. But, he had answered truthfully... the first time she asked.
That bicycle ride home had felt... different.
Dressed in the pilfered Bonta-Kun suit, he had watched over her to make certain she was safe.
What he had told Kyouko was true. He would defend Kaname, no matter who she was with. Much of that had to do with duty and professional responsibility... but not all of it... maybe not even most of it. Her later conversation with Bonta-Kun had left him feeling strange inside, as if something were right in the world.
He had protected her from gangsters. He had tried to do his best to respect her privacy. He had not run away from her gentle admissions.
Furthermore, before she had even gone to the amusement park, he had offered to help her when she seemed distraught and distracted.
It was not a mission requirement.
In the kitchen of Da Dannan, he had made an effort to connect with Kaname and show her that she did matter. At his special fishing spot, he had told her that he felt as if he could do anything when she was with him.
He owed credit to Kurz, for pushing him towards an apology. But, the word that he said and the feelings that they invoked had been his own. He had begun to accept Kaname as someone he could depend on. Later, he spoke for both his and her sake, sharing the fact that he felt that he could do anything when she was around.
She seemed happy to hear that.
There had been no anger or disappointment when he resumed his mission at Jindai High.
With dusk approaching, he had stood by a lake and told Kaname that she was beautiful.
It had not come out unprompted, but he had said it just the same. It had even felt good to say it. After that, somehow, he began answering things more directly, without so much guilt or evasion. The following weeks had seen a renaissance. Each truth made the next truth easier. Each admission had Kaname opening up to him more herself.
She criticized him less and encouraged him more. She followed him around as much as he followed her.
Sousuke thought about things he had read about. Mastodons and early humans had been found trapped in the ice for millennia, well preserved.
Sometimes he himself felt like that. Is view of life had always been so blurry, as if he was staring from within a block of ice. His choices in life had been limited. There had never seemed to be any need or chance to break free and do something radically different.
Was that ice melting? If it was, would the tissue inside be well preserved but dead just the same? There had been something else he had read about once.
There was an insect in New Zealand that had a physical appearance looking like a cross between a cockroach and a cricket. In the absence of any land snakes in New Zealand, weta have come to represent, for New Zealanders, the revulsion at things that creep and crawl in the dark.
There might be some parallel there, with a young operative you snuck about performing secret duties .
The Mountain Rock Weta have special proteins in their hemolymph---the insect equivalent of blood---which prevent ice from forming in their cells. This enables them to survive at temperatures down to –10°C, even when 82 percent of their body water has frozen. Trapped in ice, they would be alive when it thawed out.
Kaname seemed to be responsible for the slow and subtle melting of his ice. He wasn't certain what it meant.
It might be a moot point, any way.
Yes, his thoughts were indeed a mixed bag. If he were an avid pool player like Kurz, he might have said he had run the table.
Arrogance. Interruption. Arguing.
He saw plenty of evidence of those.
Trust, Mercy, Impartiality, and Help.
He could claim each of those as well.
Moderastion and Restraint?
Well, he remained weak there, despite it all. Yet, to be honest, he would have to admit that he wasn't a total lost cause in that regard.
Impatience, Stubbornness, and Ingratitude.
He had shown improvements in those areas. Was that because he was growing up, evolving into a more complete person? Or, was it simply a matter of circumstances? Perhaps he had been put in fewer situations that would allow him to see his lurking shortcomings.
Anger and Worry.
Truthfully, that hadn't gotten much better. But, on the flipside, he could say that they hadn't gotten any worse either. His anger was more directed, as was his worry. He did not like to see things threaten Kaname or make her unhappy. It was less about events, and more about her.
Fairness, Discretion, and Benevolence.
He was making progress with those.
No, better strike those last two.
What was the fullest measure of his success in his undercover mission???
That had to be based on the fact that Kaname was still alive. She had faced a number of dangerous and difficult situations, and he had been able to rescue her from them time and time again.
Still, for every good thing he brought Kaname, he seemed to bring her two bad things. Was that a fact, or was he being overly harsh with himself? There was no denying the fact that many of the catastrophes she had found herself embroiled in came about because of him, his poor judgment, or his inability to fit into everyday society.
And the fullest measure of his growth as a man???
That rested on different criteria altogether. Was he improving? Or, was he becoming more of a burden to Kaname than he was worth?
Could he find a way to maximize the joy, peace, and stability he brought to her life, while minimizing the pain and disorder?
Did she take any joy in his presence, when all was said and done? Why did he find himself wanting that? Was it for her sake, or for his own?
Why would he... a consummate soldier... want such a thing?
Sousuke had to pry his hand off of the control lever. His grip had become so tight, that his arm muscles were locked in a painful spasm. The blurriness in his vision was evidence that he was hyperventilating. He needed to calm down. His thoughts had been becoming too intense, too jumbled. He could not possibly hope to distill everything he had been---and everything he had done---into one neat container. It was pointless to attempt the impossible.
He needed moderation, mercy, and fairness more than ever. For himself.
He was not Kaname's enemy.
He could not change the past.
He should be wary of setting unattainable goals.
Massaging one arm at a time, he came to another realization. It was good that he wanted to become worthy of Kaname's admiration and trust. But, he had to be patient. He had to risk failing. He also had to risk succeeding.
He could not rush that. He could not force himself to change overnight. If things didn't come naturally, they wouldn't come at all.
And some decisions were not his to make.
At least not yet.
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A restrained beeping noise could be heard. The strip of lights encircling the view screen were pulsing on and off.
Two more Egyptian Army vehicles registered on his short range radar screen, their visual contact being obscured by an impending sandstorm. Holding his breath, he saw them veer away from his current heading just moments before they crossed into a mandatory kill zone.
The camels that showed up on his infrared scanner were in no such danger. He was pretty certain that Sgt. Major Mao would trust them to keep silent.
Exhausted from his counting of virtues and sins, Sousuke found himself breaking one of Sagara's Rules Of Battle. His mind wandered far further than it should. He began to ponder the significance of a story he had read: The Doomed Prince, also called by some The Crocodile, theSnake, and the Dog:
One of the kings of Egypt was unhappy, for he had no son to rule in his place, once he was gone. He prayed to the gods, who answered his prayers, and a son was born to him. But, the seven Hathors announced that this prince would die by either a snake, a crocodile or a dog.
The King was informed of this prediction. He ordered that the child be kept within a palace in the desert and guarded at all times.
The boy grew strong and tall. One day he climbed to the top of the wall of his palace, and saw a man walking with a dog. He asked a servant what that animal was, and was informed that it was a dog. The prince wanted a dog of his own, and ordered the servant to bring him one. The king was informed of his son's desire for a dog. The king gave in to his son's desire, and gave him a dog.
The prince grew to become a young man. And he complained to his father the king, saying, "Why am I kept a prisoner? I am destined to die either by a snake, a crocodile, or a dog. It is the will of the gods. Then let me live my life, while it lasts." The king eventually consented, giving his son weapons, and sending him and his dog to a foreign land.
In the foreign land, he encountered a beautiful princess. The king of this land had no son, and desired a husband for his daughter, the princess. Those who wished to marry the princess had to climb a wall to reach the princess. Every day, young men tried to climb the wall, and failed. The Egyptian prince climbed the wall, and won the heart of the princess.
The king asked who had won his daughter. And the prince answered that he was the son of one of the soldiers of the king of Egypt, and that he had run away from home. In anger, the king refused to let his daughter marry a commoner. His daughter threatened to neither eat nor drink until they be married. The king demanded that the young man be killed. His daughter threatened to kill herself, if he were killed. The king gave in to his daughter, and they were married.
Once they were married, the prince told his wife of his destiny, to be killed by a snake, a crocodile, or a dog. His wife responded that they should kill the dog, immediately. The prince refused, saying that his dog would never harm him.
A crocodile rose from the river, each night. But it was prevented from attacking the prince, by the presence of a giant who protected the prince.
One night, while the prince slept, the princess saw a snake come into their bedroom, and creep toward the sleeping prince. She trapped the snake and killed it. She woke the prince, and showed him the dead snake, and the prince marveled at this. She said, "See, the gods have allowed me to remove one of your three fates." The prince made offerings, and thanked the gods.
One day, the prince came to the river, and the crocodile spoke to him. The crocodile said that he would eventually kill the prince, when the giant lowered his guard.
One night, the prince and his wife were out walking. The crocodile, hiding in the reeds, saw that the giant had not noticed him, and that an attack on the prince would probably succeed. The crocodile rushed from hiding, and attacked the prince, injuring him. But the dog jumped between the crocodile and the prince, distracting the crocodile. The giant drove a large spear through the crocodile's heart.
The princess saw that the crocodile was dead, and that her husband was still alive, although seriously injured. A servant was sent to find a doctor. In tears, the princess whispered to her unconscious husband, "Now, two of your fates have been removed. Forgive me, but I must remove the third fate." And she told the giant to kill the dog, which was standing guard over its master. The giant killed the dog.
But, the crocodile was not yet dead. It made one last attack. And the prince and the crocodile died together.
Soon, the princess gave birth to a son, the prince's son. This son eventually ruled Egypt. Even so, the princess lived the rest of her days in regret about her own actions.
His head throbbing, Sousuke tried to make sense of the story from his own perspective. How did the lessons inherent in that tale apply to his life as a soldier? Could he take anything from that tale as a portent of his relationship with Kaname?
One cannot avoid Destiny.
He wasn't certain he believed in Destiny.
He tended to put a lot of faith in his speed, dexterity, and decision- making abilities. That could be Faith, or it could be Arrogance. Perhaps some of both.
Fate was a much more comfortable concept than Destiny, given the amount of time he routinely spent in battle. Still, it may well be his destiny to die by a bullet. Worrying too much about that was more likely to get him shot than it was prevent any such injury.
A person trying to be helpful may well cause harm to befall the one he wishes to help
That one had indeed struck close to home. It dredged up memories of civilians who had died as a result of his actions---they had been men and women he was fighting to protect. War often brought about such paradoxes.
Carefulness and emotional sobriety.
Those should be packed away in every soldier's kit.
He was no exception.
He also thought about Kaname, and the way that she had been hurt on occasion as a result of his actions. In the past, he had simply written such things off as the cost of action, even though her plight had left him feeling sorrowful or guilty.
Now, his heart was much less callous, and he dreaded making any mistake that would injure her. He couldn't help but ask himself a dark and drastic question. Could some error of his cause her death? What would life hold for him after that? Despite the fact that his assignment to her was someone else's decision, he held a tremendous responsibility in his hands.
One should not rush into conclusions regarding success or failure.
There was ample historical documentation of that lesson. How man battles had been lost by commanders who were too quick to celebrate? How many times had the tides of war been turned by those who refused to believe what others thought was obvious?
He could apply the rule to Kaname as well. Her reactions may often be a sign of his failure. But, they could just as easily be a reflection of unrealistic expectations on her part. He was finding it extremely difficult to understand women. He was not alone in that regard.
But, he had changed. At first, he hadn't even wanted to be around her. Then, he had grown accustomed to being around her, but had little desire to probe her thoughts and needs. Now, he found himself wanting to understand her.
He might even want her to understand him, too. What chance was there of that, if he was having so much trouble assessing himself?
If one allows it, he can suffer grievously over things that were beyond his ability to control or prevent.
Yes.
Kaname. Mushrooms. A sick sister. World safety. Duty. Friendship.
Sometimes, a person cannot satisfy everybody. He cannot always satisfy any one person in every way that she wants, or be there every moment that she needs satisfaction.
There was only so much he could do.
It was simply a matter of priorities.
The truth did not lessen his pain.
Not one single bit.
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Almost asleep at the stick, Sousuke was jarred back to full awareness by the sound of a strident and insistent threat detector. Three large vehicles were heading in his direction. Eighteen-wheel trucks. A glance at his position indicator told him that he had lagged precipitously. The rest of the Mithril troops were far ahead of him and had not noticed his tardiness.
He typed a query into the onboard computer.
A GPS grid appeared on his HUD. The trucks were coming from the direction of the temples at Abu Simbel. That was an unwanted discovery. His head now clear, he still found himself deep within the Fogs of War. Did those trucks carry mushrooms, or the poison derived from them?
There was no way to be sure, strapped into the cockpit of his M9.
Or, were they simply innocent men, determined to carry out their responsibilities despite the fierce some weather? The possibility existed that they had honest business in the vicinity of the temples, or had taken a long and winding road that simply put them on a concerning vector.
This was a predicament.
The worst thing that could happen would be for the trucks to somehow become aware of the Arm Slave and call in their discovery--that would be a horrendous setback if the drivers were indeed terrorists. He could not allow that to happen.
A full out attack could obliterate all three vehicles before the men had any idea what hit them. But, that carried worth it the risk of killing innocent bystanders. That would be even more unfortunate than soldiers giving their lives for their country.
They could be men or women simply trying to practice their trade---much like his parents had been.
There was a middle ground. If the ECS system was still effective, he could knock over one of the trucks and look inside. It might leave a mystery, if the drivers were innocent. Mithril left more mysteries in its wake than any organization had a right to. One more probably wouldn'tmatter.
However, If the sand made his M9 visible, he might be forced to kill people he was convinced were innocent.
There was still time to think. It was not his decision.
"Urzu 2, this is Urzu 7. Do you copy? Over."
The five seconds that it took for Sgt. Major Mao to reply seemed like an eternity. He kept his Hellbore activated, and had one finger on a button that would launch a flight of missiles.
"Urzu 7, I read you. Sousuke, what are you doing?" Melissa sounded irate and sheepish at the same time. She realized how far back Sousuke was. She also realized that she had not discovered that by her own volition.
"I have company, Sgt. Major." He detailed his situation and asked for orders.
"Burn them, Sgt. Sagara. Literally." Melissa's voice had been resolute. She was not willing to take any risks.
"Should I check the remains, Sgt, Major?"
"Negative. Finish the job and catch up as quickly as possible. Urzu 2 out."
Sousuke did not hesitate. He pushed his M9 into a run. Switches thrown, the pilot flame on the Hellbore gave way to a molten torrent of destruction.. Coming in from the most advantageous angle, he torched one truck after another. Dark oily smoke was immediately dispersed by the violent swirling winds. The napalm-like solution coating the trucks was insatiable, its flames lapping at the available oxygen greedily. Even brief gusts of gale force wind could not extinguish the unholy blaze.
Sousuke stared at a scene that could have been taken out of the Inferno.
An arm slumped out of an open window, the flesh charring to nothingness as he watched.
The wages of sin.
Those may have been innocent men.
Or, they may have been men long overdue in Hell.
There had been no time or inclination to check the nature of the beast. He had to assume it was a crocodile, and he had to make completely certain that the creature was dead, unable to drag someone down with it.
It was his duty to shake off the encounter and move on.