A Modern Myth
The guns have stopped
Winds blow across the barren earth
Unwarned I am held captive
My hands, my limbs, my thoughts,
Guided by forces irresistible,
Are made, helpless, to dance the Gasara
Hollowness of time--
Flowing about; but in its chasm something beckons
I see the mirage; and in its grip I,
No more than a puppet--
There is someone inside me I do not know
Stave IV. The Councilman's Dilemma
Symbol was a unique presence among the world's great conglomerates. It had its
formal beginning in Italy nearly eighty years prior to the events of this history,
but before its first decade was over it had branched out to nine sovereign nations
in three continents. By its twenty-fifth year it was the best affiliated firm in
the world, though not many knew this--heading an empire of partners and subsidiaries
under many different names, which at a glance seemed unconnected with the mother
company, involved in every manner of commerce throughout the globe. Its assets were
so well distributed across dozens of borders that when its home nation, no more than
a sentimental home by then, suffered the turmoil of waging, and losing, a world war,
Symbol managed not only to preserve its wealth but to profit from the conflict. For
it was the only corporation doing business, through a number of separate agencies,
with both sides of the war. Its vessels transported grains which fed in equal parts
Allied and Axis soldiers. It produced steel for the British and the Germans who
hurled the shells thus manufactured upon one another's soil. To many it allied
itself so that to none it may owe its allegiance. And as all duplicitous men must
be who wish to survive long, Symbol was exceedingly skilled at keeping its secrets
to itself. The few who understood its full capacities belonged in its ranks, though
not all who worked for it knew that they did.
The core agendas of Symbol were under the direction of a board of councilmen who
were almost as diverse in their national origin as the conglomerate itself. One
might think that so mixed a group could not maintain sound control over the vast
corporate community. But varied as they were the councilmen shared one thing in
common. They were all handpicked by the honorary chairman of the board, who was
either the grandson or the great grandson--the record is curiously confused on the
point--of the founder of Symbol. Now this chairman detested the public stage with a
singular passion. And since constant exposure on it was inevitable for one who
headed so prominent a group, he named the board Symbol's chief governing body and
took himself altogether out of the official hierarchy of the conglomerate--with one
reserved prerogative, by which he granted himself the sole authority to appoint, as
well as remove, any and every councilman serving on the board as he saw fit. Why
the board consented to such an obvious ploy for cloaked dictatorship, I do not know.
But it did consent, and now with that understanding we may proceed to the next part
of the story, which occurred in the private office of one of the councilmen, a
reticent gentleman by the name of D. H. Meth, on the morning of the tactical armor
company's arrival in Belgistan.
'Mr. Chairman,' he spoke into the speaker phone, 'I should like you to know, sir,
that the evacuation of the cross section experiment facilities is nearly complete.'
'What of the subject?' asked the chairman from the other end.
'She is still in the zone while we wait for her condition to stabilize. I am told
it will be a matter of hours only,' replied the Councilman Meth--for he was the
overseer of the unnamed procedure which had led to Yushiro's mysterious vision of
the young woman, and the 'subject' none other than the young woman herself.
'How did the Fakes do against the Americans?'
'Quite well, sir. They encountered the first American armored battalion in the
desert sixteen miles south of Kaha. Without much difficulty they disabled about
half of the vehicles and forced the rest to withdraw. I believe we are safe from
another direct ground assault for at least twenty-four hours.'
'They now have documented proofs of Fakes' existence and capability. The
multinational forces cannot be repelled much longer.'
'I am well aware. We will hasten the process to the utmost.'
'And Stilbanov?'
'He is certainly showing some dangerous signs. He is set to broadcast another
tirade of his at noon. The victories seem to have gone to his head.'
'It is to be expected. Keep me informed of all developments.'
* * * * * * * * * *
At that time Yushiro was over the skies of the central Asia, looking out the window
of an enormous military transport plane which carried his unit personnel as well as
the tactical armors. It was dark outside, and the barren wilderness below offered
hardly a sign of habitation. Major Takayama, a pilot, watched the pensive youth and
joined him at the window.
'That is where the Aral Sea once was,' said the major. 'It used to be a vast inland
sea. But people came in droves and turned it into a desert.'
'Ah,' said Yushiro, and no more.
'Listen, Yushiro--captain,' he stopped, catching himself.
'No, Yushiro is fine. And appropriate,' the boy said, for he was mindful, as was
the major, that he was almost young enough to be the other man's nephew. And the
major was himself not yet thirty.
'I am sorry about this, making you come along with us. They can fiddle with ranks
all they want, but that doesn't change that it is no duty of yours to be here. I
realize that you are not really one of us, not permanently. But I want you to trust
us on the field. We will make sure you return home unharmed no matter what.'
'Thank you, Major Takayama,' returned Yushiro. 'But please don't burden yourself
with concerns for me. I participate in this operation of my own will. Soldier or
not, if I am going to war I may not always expect others to come to my aid, nor
hinder them with my inexperience.'
Two hours later the plane landed at an airbase near the southern border of
Belgistan. It was under the control of the United States and served as the
headquarter for the multinational forces. The sun was high by then, drenching the
grassless earth with blinding light, and the chill of the night faded quickly.
Before the soldiers quite had a chance to familiarize themselves to the roasting
heat outside, a jeep pulled up next to the plane, and out stepped a Japanese
officer.
'Is this plane carrying the 3rd Experimental Company, SSDF Training Group?' asked
the officer, tanned from the sun. 'I have an instruction to meet with a Lieutenant
Colonel Hayakawa.'
'That would be me,' replied the colonel.
'Welcome to Belgistan, sir. I am Lieutenant Gowa Takeharu.'
'Gowa?'
'His cousin,' said the lieutenant, motioning with a smiling glance at the figure of
Yushiro who was just disembarking with the other pilots, his baggage slung over the
shoulder. 'Colonel, I am to escort you immediately to the acting commander of the
multinational forces.'
'Well, then,' the colonel said to his men, 'go ahead and get settled in while I
speak with the commander.'
'Another Gowa at our service, even out here,' muttered Captain Kitazawa as the jeep
sped away. 'Isn't that a coincidence.'
'Knock it off, Kitazawa,' admonished Takayama.
'Captain Gowa, your cousin didn't say hello to you,' said Lieutenant Murai to the
boy. He returned no answer. She was going to speak again but Captain Ataka stopped
her with a nudge of elbow.
'Looks like the colonel will be gone awhile. Let's get the equipments into the
base,' said she.
Talks of recent war development did not cease at the soldiers' lips as they paired
up to carry boxes loaded with paraphernalia into their designated office quarters.
For the Americans' failed attempt to push into the enemy capital had taken place
during their transcontinental flight, preventing them from learning anything beyond
the sketchiest updates given over the air. Everyone was anxious, now that they had
arrived at the scene of the news, to know how the situation stood--and what it meant
for them.
'The news wouldn't say more than that Belgistan forces used some radically new type
of ground weaponry,' remarked Kitazawa. 'Suppose the rumor's true after all that
they have got TA's of their own?'
'Belgistan could not possibly have developed the technology,' replied Lieutenant
Kaburagi. 'If they do in fact have such weapons, they came from a third party
backing up Stilbanov.'
'How bad did the Americans get beaten anyway?' Takayama wondered aloud. 'Must have
been pretty bad if they pulled back the other tank divisions too.'
'I hear the first column had to abandon half the vehicles.'
'Where did you hear that?' Kitazawa said.
'From an American mechanic. It seems to be a common news around here.'
'Well, I will be... Think they'll ask the Japanese forces to join the next attack
on Kaha?'
'Honestly? I would say the infantry is looking at tougher times ahead than us,'
Takayama said. 'We'll probably be put in the reserve force.'
'You figure they won't count us as a part of the main force?' asked Ataka.
Takayama shook his head. 'These NATO folk just learned about the TA's. No way they
will put them into action without even seeing them field tested. Six months ago I
would have thought the same.'
'But still this deployment is basically a demonstration of the armors, isn't it?'
cut in one of the junior technicians. 'Don't you think that makes front line
assignment at least a possibility?'
'That's right,' agreed Ataka. 'And let's not forget the rumor of the new enemy
weapons. If they are indeed tactical armors--as they say, "if you think there might
be a snake in the bush, send in your own snake."'
Captain Tokudaiji then appeared at the door. Catching the drift of the conversation
he offered, 'Don't get too excited just yet. If half of what I am hearing is
correct, UN may soon decide for a complete pullout.'
'What? Are you serious, sir?' cried the junior technician, whose name was Takashi.
Kaburagi frowned at the younger man. 'Don't sound so disappointed. Are you that
hard up for combat?'
'How sure are you of this, Tokudaiji?' asked Takayama.
'My sources tell me there is a special shuttle arriving tomorrow from Geneva,
crammed full of diplomats and moderates from the Security Council. UN never
particularly liked the American approach to the whole affair. Now that the
Americans have twice failed to push into Belgistan, everyone's getting worried the
war will be drawn out. And it wasn't a popular war to begin with.'
'And these diplomats are flying into a war zone to do what?' asked Ataka.
'I suspect they will offer Stilbanov an olive branch. They're probably thinking
letting him save face is the fastest course to a cease-fire. Either the colonel
takes the offer, or they go in for full-scale aerial strikes on Kaha.'
'Not bad from someone who got here an hour ago. Nothing gets by you, eh?' said
Takayama.
'Don't forget collection and analysis of information is a part of my duties.'
'There will be combat,' Yushiro said.
In surprise the company turned to the youth, who crouched off to a corner by himself
unloading a trunk full of mobile communications equipment. It was his first
unprompted speech since arriving at the base.
'Do you think so, Yushiro?' said Ataka.
'I am certain of it.'
A monitor on the wall emitted a low beep then, catching Lieutenant Murai's
attention. 'Oh?'
'What is it, Murai?'
'A new set of orders from the Joint Chiefs of Staff, sir.'
'Joint Chiefs?'
'It has been assigned a high security status. Only the colonel may open it with his
personal code.'
And that was when the jeep carrying Colonel Hayakawa, again riding with Lieutenant
Gowa, returned outside the unit quarters. The men exchanged salutes, and the
colonel was greeted by his men.
'Have the orders come in from the Joint Chiefs of Staff?' asked he.
'Yes, sir. Encrypted for your eyes only,' answered Takayama.
'That was quick. Everyone drop what you are doing and come with me. We have a
briefing to attend at 1600 hours.'
'What, already, sir?'
'Already, major. Let's get moving.'
'It's the strangest thing,' confessed the colonel later to Tokudaiji on their way to
the briefing. 'Gowa took me to meet Brigadier General Dole. The general already
knew more than a little about TA's--heard it from Gowa. (He sat there with us
through the interview, though I didn't know why at first.) I thought he was going
to put us in the next assault on Kaha. Instead he showed me a footage of some
ancient ruins far out in the desert. You remember that photograph of the explosion
that Stilbanov is supposedly responsible for? This was the site of the explosion,
the general said. An investigative team has been organized to inspect the site, and
he wants us to raid and secure it at dawn. I objected that it was far past any
friendly zones, and he assured me that satellites showed only a mechanized platoon
in the area, and the rest of the multinational forces will be commencing with the
next ground strike on Kaha at that time. That should keep the heat off our team, he
said. Gowa joined in and said the attack had already been approved by the Joint
Chiefs and the orders should be arriving soon. When I said I would prepare a
tactical plan, I was told that it is already in place, and the unit is to attend a
briefing immediately.'
'That explosion is what made the Americans go to war,' said Tokudaiji. 'Why would
they order a foreign unit to secure a site like that?'
'Your guess is as good as mine, captain.'
So it was that only twelve hours after disembarking the pilots found themselves
boarding another aircraft, one considerably smaller, that would take them deep
inside Belgistan.
* * * * * * * * * *
Kazukiyo entered the dark study and found the patriarch in his opulent reclining
chair, eyes closed and with a book resting on his lap. Above the fireplace the
television flashed with sound muted. 'Takeharu contacted me from Belgistan,' he
told his father. 'Dole has complied with the arrangement. The unit will be moving
into Shrine Hill shortly before noon here.'
Opening his eyes, Daizaburo regarded his eldest without turning. 'Kiyoharu and
Kiyotsugu?'
'They should be arriving any moment.'
'Does Yushiro know?'
'About them? No.'
'Kiyotsugu is quite certain about this discovery of his, yes?'
'Quite, father. I had him look into the explosion in Belgistan after I realized the
possibility that Stilbanov possesses TA's. He scoured through satellite networks
for every scrap of observed data on the site. He is confident that it is the
closest match outside Japan we have yet found to the stage of stone at Kinashi.'
Daizaburo turned to the television screen where the silent images of reporters,
soldiers and the desert alternated at intervals. 'The news people seem terribly
excited about the mystery weapon. They've been talking about little else for
hours.'
'Yes, Takeharu has mentioned that too. There is little doubt about it; Belgistan
forces are using tactical armors.'
'Of capabilities comparable to ours.'
'That we may be forced to discover before the unit returns home. At any rate the
site will be in our hands in a few hours.'
'"If a snake lies hidden in a bush, send in your own snake,"' Daizaburo recited the
old proverb. The television's glare lit his dismal countenance, an old stately face
thoroughly unaccustomed to smiling. 'Yet what if something more sinister than a
snake should emerge?'
'Sir, I look forward to that,' said Kazukiyo with a grin.
* * * * * * * * * *
The mission command post for the TA company was the interior of a flying helicopter
since the mission was to be carried out in the middle of hostile territory. Here
the colonel, along with Tokudaiji, Kaburagi and Murai sat before a panel of screens
which allowed them to monitor every movement of the armor units from safe altitude.
'The SB carrying Focus One through Four will reach the mission objective in four
minutes,' Tokudaiji informed the colonel. 'Sir, one thing has been bothering me.
If that explosion was the result of a weapon of mass destruction, shouldn't some
kind of decontamination measures be in order?'
'I have been told not to worry about residual contamination.'
'Now how can they just say that?'
'We can only hope the headquarter's intelligence got it right.'
'Three minutes till the drop zone,' said Murai. 'The SB is about to pass us by.'
'CB to SB,' Tokudaiji addressed the crew in the other aircraft. 'All Focus units,
switch from standby to drop mode. This is your final briefing. We will begin
countdown 2000 meters west of the target. Seven seconds later you will enter the
drop zone. It is probable that the drop will be detected by the enemy. Reconfirm
the path of movement.'
'Focus One, acknowledged,' replied Yushiro from inside his armor, watching the
deployment map flash on the display.
'Focus Two, acknowledged,' replied Ataka.
'Focus Three, acknowledged,' replied Takayama.
'Focus Four, acknowledged,' replied Kitazawa.
'While this operation is being conducted with little preparation,' said the colonel
to the pilots, 'the enemy has been visually confirmed to be of platoon strength.
Execute each step as you have done in the training, and our first combat mission
should be a success.'
'Colonel, I tried scanning for radar waves one more time. I am detecting none,'
said Tokudaiji.
'That's to our advantage.'
'Latest forecast says a low pressure front is expected to move close to the target
area, but it will be noon before the weather begins to change. Currently at 5000
meters to the target. All Focus units, prepare for impact.'
'Team A, physical conditions check,' said Kaburagi. 'Heart rate, Focus One at
eighty-two. Focus Two at ninety-four.'
Murai followed suit. 'Team B, physical conditions check. Heart rate, Focus Three
at eighty-five and Focus Four at seventy-nine.'
'Dopamine receptor levels, Focus One and Two both reporting normal figures.'
'Same for Focus Three and Four. Starting countdown to drop. Six, five, four,
three, two...'
The plane swooped low as though to brush the earth. Fine sand rose like white smoke
beneath the broad wings. The drop hatch was already open. One after another in
close succession the four armors fell away. The impact-absorbent mats on which they
sat dragged upon the sand and came to a slow halt. The locking mechanisms
disengaged, and the armors, having thus far crouched in dense bundles atop the mats
like men hugging their knees, rose to their heights quivering as though roused from
sleep. Ahead the pilots could see the gray tents that sheltered the enemy force.
Riflemen were scrambling out of the camp, and some were firing at the dropship which
was passing over their heads. The armors' ponderous feet dug into the soft sand in
their first steps on foreign soil. They fell into a formation and began their
charge, a hundred thousand pounds of iron stampede, towards the camp.
'Two hundred and fifty meters ahead,' observed Takayama. 'I see two tents, maybe a
seven or eight personnel. Does anyone see vehicles?'
'Negative. No, wait,' Ataka said, for at that moment an armored car, mounted with a
gun, emerged from one of the tents. 'There it is. Focus One and Two will take it
out. You two cover the other tent. Let's flank them.'
'Roger that.'
The four armors divided into pairs, with Yushiro and Ataka on the right flank and
Takayama and Kitazawa on the left.
'Have they seen us yet?' asked Kitazawa, squinting at the enemy riflemen who,
because of the distance and the darkness, were as yet little more than busily moving
nondescripts on the cockpit display. They had ceased firing for the most part, as
the plane was now quite out of their range. Then he heard a dull metallic ping,
small but close, and he knew his armor had just deflected a bullet. 'Looks like
they have. Murai, would you please enter into the battle record that Captain
Kitazawa was the first to take enemy fire?'
'You were always a showoff,' Takayama said.
The Belgistani soldiers were now fully alerted to the assault. They shouted
excitedly to the others, calling their attention to the approaching armors. Firing
resumed and bullets started wheezing by, drawing sparks when they found their
targets. The armor units pressed onward undeterred. It took the riflemen some
while to notice an oddness about their enemies; for it is difficult to judge the
scale of a thing at distance, especially against so monotonous a backdrop. It was
not until the armors were within a hundred meters of the camp that the soldiers
vaguely realized what they were up against. The reaction was obvious and instant;
they paused shooting and stared briefly, and then took to their feet, scattering.
'The car first,' Ataka reminded her partner.
'Roger,' replied Yushiro. 'Let's split up. I will go left.'
The gun atop the enemy vehicle was spewing fire at the two armors. Circling to the
front of the car, Yushiro returned fire with the rifle, much too enormous for human
hands, fastened on the machine's right arm, which also served as a midrange rocket
launcher. Only a few enemy rounds caught the armor in the shoulder, with minimal
effect; though hardly graceful in appearance, the tactical armor was an agile craft,
able to outrun any tanks on unpaved terrains and vastly more maneuverable; if they
appeared slow it was because they were so large. While the gun was unsuccessfully
trying to match Yushiro's movement, Ataka advanced to the rear unchecked. Leveling
the barrel direct at the gun turret, she fired in a concentrated burst. The barrage
nearly knocked the turret off the car.
'The gun's neutralized,' said Ataka.
Yushiro wedged his rifle under the chassis, targeting a wheel joint, and discharged
three quick rounds. 'The vehicle is immobile.'
'Stay put and take care of the prisoners. I'll go and round up the others.'
'Roger.'
So Yushiro kept guard over the vehicle's crew, who emerged from the battered car
coughing amid smoke, and Ataka pursued the remaining foot-soldiers. Meanwhile
Takayama and Kitazawa had reached the other tent. Two Belgistani ran out as
Takayama was about to clear the entrance. They gave a startled cry at the giants
and dashed away.
'I'll get them, major. You clear out the tent,' said Kitazawa, starting after the
soldiers.
'Try and take them alive. Warning shots should be enough.'
A second armored car darted from the inside then, and ran squarely into Takayama's
unit. He almost fell backward from the crash but recovered quickly, taking a half-
step back and digging a heel into the ground. He attempted to hold the car with the
free arm (for the other held the rifle), but it eluded his grasp and began speeding
away. Taking aim, he fired at the rear of the vehicle. Kitazawa joined in and let
loose a rocket that fell close behind the target. Takayama followed suit. The
second rocket burst into flame not five feet off to the right of the car. When the
smoke cleared the pilots saw the car overturned and the crew clambering out through
the back hatch. The armors were there to intercept them.
* * * * * * * * * *
The last shot of the battle had hardly been fired when Councilman Meth was informed
of the news at Shrine Hill. Though the hours were early, he duly telephoned the
chairman as he had been ordered.
'So the facility has been completely overrun?' said the chairman.
'Yes, sir. The enemy was comprised of four Fakes. They appear to be from the
Japanese SSDF which arrived in Belgistan yesterday. There was however nothing of
value left at the site.'
'Japanese Fakes, you say? Now this is a most interesting turn of events. What of
Miharu?'
'I have been told that her condition has finally stabilized to normal. I thought it
best to get her out of Belgistan immediately.'
'No, not just yet.'
'No?' said the councilman in surprise.
'If their Fakes are that well built, one of their operators might just be him.'
He was taken aback at this. 'Do you mean the other invitator with whom Miharu
attempted fusion? I suppose it is not outside the realm of possibility. The point
of attempted summoning did originate from Japan.'
'Let the two have contact with each other.'
'But, sir,' began the councilman in hasty protest, 'she recovered but a short while
ago. The exertion could prove overtaxing.'
'She is not as weak as you fancy. I should like to know who it was she had so badly
to reach.'
'As you wish, then.'
'You are not happy with this.'
'I think it dangerous.'
'To the enterprise, or to the girl?'
'Both, sir.'
'You are easily concerned,' said the chairman with a hint of amusement. 'And I
would not rely on you as I do if you were not. But quell your fears; I am sure she
will fare quite well. In fact I feel it in my heart that she will likely prefer it
this way.'
* * * * * * * * * *
When the site had been secure for four hours and the desert dawn gave way to a
bright morning, just as the air resumed the heat of daylight the first of the
investigation teams arrived by a helicopter. They were greeted by the sight of the
armors towering over the native prisoners of war who sat under armed watch.
Immediately they commenced with the work, the manner of which struck the soldiers,
whose puzzlement had been steadily mounting since the site's capture, as rather
peculiar. The investigators appeared for all the world as if they were conducting a
geological survey. They traced over every square foot of the site with what looked
like radioactivity detectors, but in plain clothes without the slightest visible
concern for contamination.
And it was a most curious place for such a study too. The site lay beside an
elevated helipad, but except for that solitary structure there was not a hint of
buildings in the vicinity. What the armor company had found instead was a cluster
of enormous depressions in an otherwise featureless earth, perfectly circular in
shape and arranged closely together. There was a regularity about their appearance
which at once precluded their having been created by mere violence of detonations.
For the depressions were not rounded or uneven at the bottom but flat; and what is
more, each hollow was a concentric ring of three, four, or five circles, of
consistently progressive depth like a staircase, so that they resembled in effect
six amphitheaters carved into the ground. The largest of these was three hundred
feet in diameter and fifty in depth. It cut partially into the adjacent helipad, so
that the structure's concrete edge had been dented in a smooth arc.
'Now what in seven hells is this?' said Takayama when they had secured the hill and
had time to observe. 'If I didn't know better I'd have said something fell from the
sky and stamped the place.'
The soldiers' confusion did not subside when they investigation members flew in, and
they saw that a majority of them seemed to be from their own nation. Where were the
United Nations representatives? Where were the Americans? But Colonel Hayakawa
thought he understood a little of this perplexing state of affairs when, shortly
before noon, a second helicopter carrying more investigators arrived at the site.
For among the newcomers who rolled off the helipad in jeeps were, to his and one
particular armor pilot's surprise, Gowa Kiyotsugu and Kiyoharu, the former in
functional field attire and the latter dapper to his cufflinks.
The colonel did not speak of the Gowa brothers to the rest of the men, but he found
time to approach them discreetly.
'What have you found?' Kiyotsugu asked one of those that had arrived earlier.
'Only residual readings. But it seems clear as daylight.'
'I'll say. What an amazing sight this is,' said he, gazing out to the massive
hollows about. 'Did you detect any signs of heat?'
'None, sir.'
'Magnetic fluctuation signatures?'
'We found some. Considering the time elapsed since, it must have been over seventy-
two.'
'That's incredible.'
'Ah, good morning, colonel,' said Kiyoharu to the colonel when he saw him advancing.
He turned to his brother. 'Do you remember Lieutenant Colonel Hayakawa? You met
him once or twice when SSDF members visited the home lab.'
'I did not realize Gowa representatives would be here in person,' the colonel said.
'I will go and see what the others have found,' said Kiyotsugu to his brother, and
took his leave with the assistant.
'As you can see, my brother is a researcher through and through,' Kiyoharu spoke to
the colonel, 'and naturally not as knowledgeable in businesses outside the domain of
science. I am here to help him coordinate the investigation.'
'We thought--,' the colonel began, only to stop and correct himself, 'or rather the
entire world thought weapons of mass destruction were being tested in this place.
But I must say now that seems hardly likely.'
'The Americans made that claim, not we.'
'And you had known their claim to be wrong.' The colonel paused, fixing the other
man with a wary accusing glance. 'How much do you know? What do you expect from
the TA company?'
'Those are hardly questions for me to answer,' replied Kiyoharu, looking surprised.
'You are a colonel, and I a civilian executive. You had better direct your queries
to the persons who issued your orders.'
'Who issued the orders?'
'Colonel, you say odd things! Are they not your own superiors? They are certainly
not mine.'
The colonel made no effort to hide the displeasure on his countenance. But without
another word he turned to head back towards command center. Kiyoharu's words
stopped him.
'It seems the company's first engagement went splendidly. My congratulations,
colonel.'
'Thank you,' he replied curtly, and was about to resume walking.
'How did my younger brother do?'
'Admirably.' The colonel gestured at the erect silhouette of an armor on the far
edge of an amphitheater. 'That's him over there. Do you wish to speak with him?'
'Thank you. We'll wait; he is on duty.'
The pilots meanwhile were growing slowly restless. And small wonder; it was
scorching hot, and they were encased inside metal trappings like so many turkeys in
an oven. They took turns getting out of the armor to get aired for a few minutes at
a time; took turns because they were still in combat status and under orders to keep
the machines manned. Though they were spread across the hill, the pilots were able
to chat via radio.
'Here's a thought,' Kitazawa mused. 'An onboard air conditioner.'
'Dream on,' said Takayama.
'I bet the Belgistani TA's have air conditioning. They have to if they were
developed in a desert country. If we fight them we'll be at a critical
disadvantage.'
'Bored, Kitazawa?' Ataka said teasingly. 'Though this fight sure was uneventful. I
suppose combat can be like that.'
'Considering the difference in strengths, you wouldn't expect any other outcome,'
said Tokudaiji from the command base where he sat with Kaburagi and Murai. 'Most of
the Belgistani forces are at the moment preoccupied with defending the capital. But
that's not to say they won't try and take back this place.'
'Out of curiosity, has any one of you fired shots at live targets before today?'
asked Kitazawa.
'Not me,' replied Ataka.
'No,' said Takayama.
'Me neither. Strange, isn't it?--the first time I fired a weapon in real combat I
wasn't even holding the weapon in my own hands.'
Takayama snorted. 'Now you are getting philosophical. You really must be bored.'
'Actually I think it must be all that sand I inhaled.'
'That would do it,' said Ataka. 'I think I got some in my hair, and I didn't spend
more than twenty minutes outside. It is driving me insane. I've seen flour coarser
than the sand here.'
'A shower would be great,' nodded Takayama. 'Sure hope they will finish up whatever
it is they are doing and let us out of here.'
'We're sure to pull out well before it gets dark,' Tokudaiji assured him. 'And it's
lunchtime already...'
'Wrong; it's bedtime already,' said Kitazawa with an audible yawn. 'Jet lag's
finally kicking in. If it weren't so darn hot I would go to sleep right here.'
'Don't you think about it, Focus Four,' Kaburagi warned sternly. 'We got eyes on
your brainwave activity. We'll know the moment you nod off.'
'And if I do?'
'We also have a syringe not six inches from your left shoulder. I'll have Murai
pump you with enough stimulants to keep you awake for three days straight.'
'That's substance abuse, lieutenant.'
'Maybe I'll just jab you with the needle then.'
'Ouch! Everything becomes a device of torture in your hands, doesn't it?'
'But seriously, I'm hungry,' said Tokudaiji as he stretched his considerable bulk in
the cramped quarter. 'When is lunch coming up, Lieutenant Murai?'
'Half an hour, captain,' she replied. 'The pilots are to take their meals two at a
time.'
'Should we flip coins?' joked Takayama.
'Focus One and Two will go first,' Tokudaiji said. 'Rin'--that was Ataka's given
name--'is a lady, and Gowa is still a growing boy.'
'Why, thank you, Captain Tokudaiji. For a bachelor that's considerate of you,'
laughed Ataka.
'How is Yushiro holding up?' asked Takayama at the mention of the youth, for there
had been no transmission from him for some while, though his channel had stayed
open. 'Captain Gowa? How is it going there?'
'Yushiro?' Ataka called when no reply was forthcoming.
But Yushiro did not respond. His unmoving armor stood by itself perched at the
precipice of one of the great hollows. Inside he was still, transfixed at the
spectacle as he had been for the past half-hour. Yet his eyes no longer saw what
lay before him, and his ears were long since closed to the comrades' chatter. The
mirage of Kinashi and the pillar of rainbow overwhelmed him; and breaking, suddenly,
the unnatural silence which his mind had conjured, rendering him insensible to all
but the phantom, was a wailing echo still more unnatural--the plaintive cry of
chanters, prolonged and undulating, and the slow yet inexorable beat of drums,
prompting his limbs like puppet strings.
'Captain Gowa?' called Kaburagi, who sensed that something was amiss.
Yushiro's armor crouched, kneeling. The backside opened upwards with a puff of dust
and sand, and the pilot leapt to the ground and began skidding down the slope of the
amphitheater.
'What in the--Captain Gowa, we are still at Defcon 3!'
'Huh? What happened?' Takayama asked.
'Yushiro just got off the armor.'
'Probably just wants a breather,' offered Kitazawa.
'Where is he running to?' Ataka wondered, spotting him also.
He had by then reached the center of the arena. There he abruptly froze and held
himself motionless for a longest moment, like a man who just discovered himself at
gunpoint. If his behavior thus far was quizzical to his comrades, what he next
proceeded to do was absolutely confounding. Slowly he raised his right hand and
circumscribed an arc about him. He began to move his feet with measured
deliberation; four gentle stomps upon the earth, then five to his right, five
backwards, then the stomps again.
'...What is he doing?' Kitazawa said nonplussed.
'I don't know,' replied Ataka.
'Hayakawa to CB,' came the voice of the colonel, who was still outside. 'Is that
Captain Gowa I see down there? What on earth is he doing?'
'We're not sure, sir. He exited the armor unauthorized. He's not answering us,'
returned Murai.
'Check his physical conditions.'
'Yes, sir.'
'His heart rate is at 190 and rising rapidly,' said Kaburagi. 'Blood pressure 178,
also rising. Dopamine receptors are going into overdrive. The pattern seems
consistent with the ability phase shifts he has demonstrated before.'
'But he is not in his TA,' said the colonel.
'No, sir.'
The activity did not go unnoticed by Kiyotsugu and his team. It could not have,
because Yushiro had not been dancing for quite one minute when one of the
technicians alerted Kiyotsugu's to sudden and violent fluctuations in the graphs
blinking across the screens, which they had set up in the shade of the helipad.
'What's going on?' Kiyoharu asked, joining his brother who squatted gaping in
consternation before the monitors.
'These figures--impossible,' he stuttered. 'What happened?' He looked out to the
hill, sweeping the assembly of hollows with a wild unnerved gaze. He caught sight
of the lone dancing figure. Though it was far away and obscured by the uniform and
the helmet, he saw at once who it was and what he was doing. 'Yushiro!'
'Yushiro?' Kiyoharu repeated.
'He is dancing the Gasara.' Kiyotsugu leapt back to the screens. 'Observe the
immediate vicinity of that man. Don't let a thing get by,' he told the technicians.
Then he ran off alone.
'Where are you going?'
Kiyotsugu burst into the helicopter that was the company's command base, startling
the soldiers. 'Let me see Yushiro's physiological stats,' he cried.
'Who are you?' asked Tokudaiji with a frown, rising from his seat. 'This is a
restricted space. You need to leave immediately.'
'I am Gowa Kiyotsugu. I have clearance to participate in this operation.' He was
already peering into Kaburagi's monitor panel. Tokudaiji detained him by the
shoulder.
'I don't care if you are the mayor of Tokyo, sir. You are leaving.'
'What's this I'm hearing?' came the colonel's voice again.
'Sir, we have a member of the site investigation team onboard,' Murai informed him.
'He says he is a Gowa and has clearance.'
The colonel's irritated sigh was distinct from the speaker. 'Let him do as he
likes.'
Kiyotsugu shook himself out of the captain's grip and returned to studying the
panel. 'His heart rate is already at 300,' he muttered. 'He is definitely in the
process of phase shift. Was he given any inhibiting agents during the raid earlier?
Compound C for instance?'
'No,' said Kaburagi, eyeing the stranger suspiciously. 'How do you know all this?'
'I developed the system,' he replied without looking at the woman, continuing to
mutter to himself. 'This would translate to a responsiveness rate of at least
180%... It might just be enough for a singularity.'
That was when Kaburagi rose and dashed out of the helicopter. Kiyotsugu, startled,
shouted after her not to interrupt Yushiro, but she was already outside. Sprinting
across the field, she skipped down the tiers of the hollow to the arena where he was
dancing entranced still.
'Captain Gowa!' she cried out to him.
Still he went on dancing, betraying no suggestion that he had heard her. She was
almost upon him when a piercing crack rang out. She saw a spark, Yushiro reeling
like he had taken a punch to the head, and then the boy collapsed on his side
without a sound.
'Sniper, 12 o'clock!' cried the colonel.
The armors were fitted with motion sensors and located the sniper quickly. They did
not attempt to capture him but at once opened fire. Had even one of the shots hit,
it would certainly have been the end of the man, for they were armor-piercing rounds
designed to tear through tanks. But when the dust blew over, exposing the target,
the sniper was left cowering but otherwise unscratched. His arms were raised in
surrender.
Kaburagi knelt next to Yushiro's prone form. For one second she was certain of his
death, but from the dimple in his helmet she realized that it had taken the brunt of
the shot. She shook him cautiously, calling his name, unsure yet that he was not
wounded. He moaned, his breath short quick bursts of panic and fear. She raised
him halfway and rested his back against her knee, and she felt the shuddery
convulsions seizing his entire frame. When the helmet came off the face it revealed
was wide-eyed with terror. His right hand was still outstretched, shaking--as
though it was beckoning something or, perhaps equally likely, attempting to keep it
away.
Lieutenant Murai and Colonel Hayakawa joined them, the former carrying a medical
box. Kiyoharu and Kiyotsugu were not far behind them. She checked his pupil, and
found it dilated nearly to the rim of the iris.
'Coming again,' Yushiro muttered shudderingly. 'She is coming. But why is she--
Why is she--'
The colonel's radio buzzed then. He raised it to his mouth. 'What is it, Captain
Tokudaiji?'
'Sir, I have just picked up three unidentified choppers approaching from northeast.'
The colonel surveyed the sky in the direction given. He did not have to look hard.
There they were, three specks in the blue heaven, glinting bright under the sun like
stars in daylight. 'An attack?'
'That's what it looks like, sir. All three are toting something very big. I have
alerted the armors already.'
'All units prepare to intercept,' ordered the colonel. 'Focus One is unavailable.
Three person formation.'
'How is he? Was he hit?' Takayama asked.
'He's all right. Just in shock.'
'Thank goodness,' breathed Ataka.
'Take care of him,' Kaburagi said to Murai, hurrying back to the command base.
'I have good visual of the enemy,' said Kitazawa. 'Are you seeing this, people?
Are those things what I think they are?'
'Yes, captain,' Tokudaiji replied, beholding on display the magnified image of the
unknown helicopters and the prodigious cargo they carried underneath. 'No doubt
about it. Those are tactical armors.'
-End of Stave IV-