Author's Note: One of the obvious results of the whispered's existence and their role as the source for black technology I'd always wondered about is... who designed the basic Arm Slaves the major nations use? Some clues come in the form of naming conventions in Russian military equipment. Most weapons use the designer's name in the designation. MiG stands for Mikoyan - Gurevich, Yak stands for Yakolev, Su stands for Sukhoi, GSh stands for Gryazev - Shipunov (The BK-540 is a bit of an odd ball but Russians do have exceptions... like AK... Mikhail Kalashnikov just gets a letter, shouldn't it be Sh-540 or Sh-37 considering their normal naming conventions?) so Rk and Zy are codes for someone's names. Enter Andrei Rubinka and Tanya Zostoya.
Sword and Shield
Chapter 7: An Era's End
The Zone 1. n. a state of focused attention or energy so that one's performance is enhanced. 2. n. the 30 km exclusion zone around the site of the Chernobyl nuclear reactor disaster (formally the Zone of Alienation).
25 March 2000, 05:31
Mithril Base, State of Alaska, United States
Outside Barracks 12-C
Sarah Miller clutched the AI core to her chest as the soldiers led them into the building. Smoke rose from dozens of points around the base where equipment had been demolished. Blackhawk Helicopters roared overhead in the pre-dawn glow of an Artic morning. In the distance she could see the smashed remains of a C-130 smoldering while troopers surrounded the three intact Gulfstream G. IVs down the tarmac. Humvees painted in artic white and black camouflage rumbled through the streets with American soldiers manning the weapons nervously.
The doors opened with a clack as the soldiers came to a stop. Their leader herded the group of Mithril personnel inside and closed the door behind them posting guards around the building.
Swallowing she walked to one of the empty bunks and sat down, her arms wrapped around the plastic and metal case that held the AI. Tears began to stream down her cheeks as the doors opened again with a bang and another half-dozen or so Mithril personnel were ushered inside. Among them the Lt. Colonel in charge of Valkyrie Squadron, another pilot, and a number of members of the hangar ground crew.
"Fucking blighters!" The Lieutenant Colonel roared as he spun around to face the door. "Wouldn't even let me finish the beer."
"Comrade, I still have a bottle of Vodka in my pocket." The female pilot said as she gestured to one of the bunks. "We can share."
Sarah shook her head and glanced down at Al.
"Are we captured then?" The AI asked quietly.
"Yes Al, we're captured." She sighed.
"Should I begin a hardware wipe, I don't want to be studied."
Sarah shook and clutched the case tightly to her chest. "No… please don't."
"Sarah?"
"I can't do this alone." She muttered remembering the horrors that the Soviets had visited upon her. "We'll find a way Al, we'll escape."
"Understood."
25 March 2000, 06:19 hrs
9 km south of the Mithril Base, State of Alaska, United States
Sigel Team, Mithril Base – Alaska Special Response Team
Mara sat upon the smashed remains of her M9E Gernsback a cigarette dangling from her mouth as she looked out over the battlefield. Her service pistol and P90 personal defense weapon sat tossed into the snow stripped of their magazines.
Beside her sat the American pilot that had dropped her mech, a cigarette of his own clasped between two fingers. His bright blue eyes flickered from her to the smoking wreckage in the valley to the south. Mithril troopers stood shoulder to shoulder with their old enemies, their weapons empty or confiscated. Sometimes the American soldiers ushered them away as MPs began to organize the effort of corralling prisoners.
They were over five hundred meters away from the nearest MP and she was relieved that for now the indignity of being a POW had passed her by. She doubted such fortune would continue to smile on her for much longer.
"Shit."
The word lingered hanging between the two soldiers that had been on opposing sides.
"Amen to that." The American finally said. "I might have fought alongside you guys a few months back. 'Silver Thunder' in the Kuril Islands and all that crap."
Mara blinked. "I was there. You must have been with one of the Dragoon troops."
"Ice Dragoon Nine." He glanced over at the field of wreckage. "Though I doubt I'll just be Nine for long."
"Sigel Three." She shook her head slowly. "No clue what I will be after this, you know what they're going to do with us Mithril people?"
"No, no fucking idea. You're not American so it's not like they can charge you as a terrorist or anything." He shrugged. "Geneva convention says held till paroled and I don't see the pentagon doing anything but stand by that."
"If it was up to your officers would you be here?" She said quietly, wiping a hand through her hair and glancing out into distance. "Fucking politicians."
"Amen to that."
"What does that even mean? One of my cohorts said it all the time and I never could figure out what it meant." Mara asked.
"You mean 'amen to that?' It means I agree with you. It's Baptist speak, you Christian?"
She shook her head. "Muslim."
"Where are you from? You don't look like any Arab I've heard of."
"Kosovo, it's part of Yugoslavia, unfortunately." She shook her head and glared at the ground. "The only 'christians' I knew growing up turned into murderous bastards. You don't seem like that."
"How the hell you end up here?"
"I got picked up in a 'Silver Thunder' op in Kosovo. A bunch of civilians and a couple of us KLA fighters were lined up to be executed and poof, the whole firing line got ripped up by a Bushnell that appeared out of nowhere, then some choppers showed up and got us out." She shrugged. "They offered us KLA people a choice, they could drop us off in Albania or we could join them."
"Without Mithril…"
"I'd be dead and so would two or three hundred civilians from my village." She swallowed. "I killed some people but I like to think I saved a lot more since I joined… but now. You American bastards shut us down."
"I just follow orders."
"That's why you're a bastard. A good soldier knows when to refuse an order." She growled.
Specialist David Johnson sat there quietly for a long moment. "I'm sorry. I know some people tried to stop this from coming down, and all of us that worked alongside you lot knew it was bullshit that we were doing this. But what else could we do, if we refused to follow orders they'd toss us in the stockade and throw away the key."
"It doesn't make what you did right."
David nodded. "No, it doesn't." He frowned to himself as a Humvee approached with MP written atop the hood. With a sigh he stood. "It seems your ride has arrived."
"So it has."
"It was nice talking to you Sigel Three." He said quietly.
"My name is Mara Lesche." She said quietly and glanced at the approaching Humvee.
"David, David Johnson." He said quietly. "Good luck."
"Thank you."
26 March 2000, 06:40 hrs
Anchorage, State of Alaska, United States
Anchorage International Airport
Christian Amanpour stared out the window at the artic dawn and slowly shook her head. The executive leadership at CNN had rushed to send their most experienced battlefield correspondent, and she'd found herself thrust onto a red eyed flight to Alaska.
Not that it was any surprise, she'd found herself being flown to airports all over the world on last minute flights time and again. The coverage work she'd done during the Yugoslavian civil war marked her as the most experienced of their correspondents on military conflict, and now she was in the United States to report on another military conflict.
She sighed as she pulled the baggage out of the overhead cabin and glanced at her producer standing immediately behind her with blood shot eyes. The camera crew was somewhere on the plane as well she knew. Pulling out her cell-phone she thumbed it on and slipped it back into her pocket as she walked down the aisle and out of the aircraft.
A set of American officers stood at the exit, their stances watchful. Almost as soon as she had stepped into view one of them walked up to her and glanced at her baggage.
"Christian Amanpour?" He asked quickly.
"That's right." She glanced back at her producer.
"Major Jordan Willis, Public Relations, Twenty-Fifth Infantry Division. Would you and your crew follow me? We've got a plane standing by to take you to the base."
Christian Amanpour frowned. "We're supposed to report on the engagement, how can we do that from your base?"
"Miss Amanpour, you misunderstand. The transport is standing by to take you to the Mithril base."
"So the battle is over?"
The Major nodded once. "Yes."
25 March 2000, 06:45 hrs
Mithril Base, State of Alaska, United States
Outside of Barracks 12-E
The ramp of the Bradley IFV slowly lowered and Jessica York grimaced against the glare of the rising sun. A pair of troopers pushed her and Daniels out into the cold as the Lieutenant Colonel stepped out clad in a spare field jacket that they'd found inside the vehicle.
God damn, back at base… I suppose that makes sense. Jessica blinked away the bright glare and glanced around noticing they were in the middle of the communal barracks area. American troops stood guard around the fence which surrounded the group of buildings while their officers directed the surrendering Mithril members to barracks.
The one twenty meters down the row had a second set of guards around it for some reason and she shrugged. "Alright, maybe they'll throw me in my old bed."
"That'd be nice." Daniels said as two MPs stepped forward, a clipboard covered with line paper in their hands.
"Name, Rank, and Unit." One said.
"Sergeant Major Jessica York, Mannaz Company, Primary Response Team." She stated with a shrug of her shoulders.
One of the officers off to the side yelled. "Lieutenant Pierce, pick five of the bunch. A Major Willis wants a group to show off to the press. Make them five of the combatants if you could and a mix of units."
The Lieutenant in front of the pair nodded once. "Alright you two, you just became TV Stars." Then he turned and yelled back to the officers. "I'll get the two pilots in 12-C! Have we got any of the Special Response Team in custody? One of the AS pilots maybe?"
"One of the patrols just reported in that they picked up one, we'll bring him over for this." The man answered back.
"Did you hear that Daniels? We get to be TV stars." Jessica York said.
Beside her Daniels shook his head. "We're really moving up in the world aren't we?"
25 March 2000, 09:13 hrs
Mithril Base, State of Alaska, United States
C-130 Mule Four, Runway 3-B
The roar of the turboprops began to die as the deck bounced under her and Christian Amanpour glanced across at her cameraman clutching tight hold of an equipment bag. Her producer pulled tightly on the black flak vest he wore that declared in large white letters: PRESS.
"I told you that you won't need that." The major said as he glanced over at him. "Mithril has surrendered."
"Maybe, but years of snipers taking pot shots at me in a 'safe zone' have worn off." He answered glancing at Christian Amanpour. "She's wearing hers as well."
The major sighed. "You'll find that this isn't like most conflict zones you've been in. Mithril's soldiers are professionals, they didn't shoot at medics for instance so I'm sure even if there is a pissed off sniper hiding somewhere you won't be shot."
"We're taking no chances." Christian Amanpour stated flatly as she felt the plane turn on the runway. A moment later the sound of the turboprops died and the cargo hatch began to whine open.
Smoke rose from a dozen odd hangars in the background and she could see the smashed remains of a handful of C-130s like the one that had delivered them. Stepping out into the cold artic air she glanced around and blinked. No hangar was broken no bomb craters littered the runways or tarmac. Only the planes themselves were burnt out wrecks and beside the American military helicopters and a few other American military aircraft only three Gulfstream G. IVs sat unmolested on the tarmac.
"They destroyed the equipment themselves instead of letting it be captured for analysis. Fortunately they didn't get to those gulfstream jets before our troops put a stop to it." The major said as he led them down the ramp and onto the tarmac. A Humvee rolled up and came to a stop in front of them.
"Get in. We'll take you to the actual battlefield." The major said, a lump rising in his throat as he spoke. "Then bring you back so you can talk to those that defended the base."
Christian Amanpour nodded and climbed inside followed by her producer and cameraman. She blinked at the steel insignia plastered on the hangar showing a sword hanging over a shield framed with angelic wings. In large white letters that curved around the bottom border of the insignia it declared: Mithril.
25 March 2000, 10:41 hrs
Mithril Base, State of Alaska, United States
Barracks 12-C
The barracks door banged open and Sarah jumped, her stomach knotting as an army Colonel stepped inside and glanced around for a moment before looking straight at her. "That one, maximum guard."
The lieutenant that had followed him in blinked and looked at her for a long moment. "Sir? She's only eighteen or so."
"I know that, but she's the one." He stated flatly, his hand tapping a clipboard held in his hand. "I doubt very well there are two eighteen year old arm slave designers in this base."
Sarah Miller swallowed and held Al tight to her chest and stared at the two Americans for a long moment as the younger man waved a group of soldiers inside. Staring up at them, she shivered before the Colonel walked up beside her and glared down at her. "Miss Miller I presume?"
"No." She said flatly tightening her grip on the case in her arms.
The Colonel chuckled. "So modest for the woman that made the ARX-8." He knelt and met her eyes for a long moment.
Sarah looked away, her hands shaking as she glanced down at the floor. "Who is asking?"
"My name is Colonel Michael Johanns, formerly of Groom Lake." He smiled at her, his beady eyes studying her for a moment. "I bet my son would love to meet you."
"Formerly of?" She asked quietly.
"Someone has to administrate the lovely facility you people fought so hard to defend." He chuckled again. "Now Mrs. Whispered." He glanced at the case and pursed his lips. "What do you have there?"
"Nothing!" Sarah held the case tight to her chest. "It's just my laptop."
"I doubt that." He said. "I doubt that very much."
Sarah's eyes widened as the man lashed out and grabbed her wrist yanking it away from her chest and grabbed the case with his other hand. Smirking he pulled the unit from her grasp and turned it over in his hands. "Now, what is this?"
Sarah sat silent for a moment then glared up at him. "I told you, it's my computer!"
"Really?" He turned it over in his hands a second time. "I don't see a monitor? Holographic maybe?" He chuckled again as he noticed the readouts running along a single side. "Ah, there's a monitor… and this clearly isn't your computer." Grinning wider he drew his service pistol. "Now, identify yourself."
Sarah's eyes widened as she realized the man was no longer speaking to her but to the case that held the AI.
"If you don't speak up I may just decided that Miss Miller here isn't worth the trouble of keeping around." He pulled back the hammer of the Beretta.
"I am Al." The speakers said flatly. "You should be aware my programming includes a self destruction protocol in case I fall into… hostile hands."
"If you do kill yourself I may just take my anger out on your friend here." He said as he gestured to Sarah with his pistol. "I suggest you don't."
"Acknowledged…"
"You were the AI in the Arbalest and Laevantein then?" The colonel grinned wickedly. "It seems I'll need to make a call to Okinawa."
"I will not cooperate."
"Even if I decide to punish Miss Miller for your behavior?" The colonel stated as he tapped his Beretta against his belt.
The AI was silent and Sarah's gaze flicked between the colonel and AI core, her eyes beginning to well up with tears.
"If you refuse to cooperate I will kill Miss Miller, do you understand?" Sarah's eyes widened as the Colonel raised the Beretta and pointed it at her forehead.
"Yes." Al's voice was steady.
Her voice shook as she stared down the bore. "Al?"
"I'm sorry Miss Miller, but it seems I have no choice. Two deaths will help no one." The AI stated flatly.
"Simple logic, good." The Colonel lowered the pistol and glanced at the Lieutenant. "Take her to her quarters, a full platoon is to stand guard over them at all times. You're authorized to use lethal force if she attempts to flee."
"Sir?"
"You can direct any questions you have to the Department of Defense, but you will follow my orders in this matter." He stated flatly.
"Yes sir."
Sarah swallowed as the troopers surrounded her, her arms wrapped around her chest as she stood. The soldiers escorted her to the door and out into the waiting Humvee and its three escorts. She blinked away tears as the soldiers surrounded her in the car even, their weapons loaded, and the safeties off. The Humvee rolled out, rumbling across the tarmac before turning off onto a street away from the main base. Patrols walked along the road, their members joking with each other.
The soldiers that were surrounding her said not a word as they entered the officer's section of the base and drove along a road lined with homes before stopping before hers. A pair of Bradley IFVs sat in front along with two squads of American soldiers. A pair of sentries stood beside her door and she closed her eyes.
"Get out." The soldier beside her said quietly and she nodded stepping out into the cold artic morning air. The others in the Humvee climbed out and stood behind her as the lieutenant ushered her to the door.
"You are to stay inside unless called. You are not to attempt to flee. You understand we are authorized to use lethal force if you do."
"Yes." Sarah said quietly. "Please, I'll just go inside and sit down. I won't give you any trouble." For now. She thought to herself. I need a plan first.
The lieutenant nodded and stepped aside. Sighing she walked along the sidewalk and up to the door, glancing at the two guards in their artic weather gear before pulling open the storm door and stepping inside.
The door banged shut behind her and she closed her eyes. Damn it. Her hands made fists as she slumped back against the door and slid to the floor. Then she made a strangled yell in frustration and slammed her fists into the flooring.
"Damn it!" She said between sobs. "Get ahold of yourself, come on… Sarah or Mira or whoever the hell it is that is sitting on the floor! Snap out of it!" Tears ran down her cheeks and she slumped forward settling her forehead on her knees and pulling her legs tight to her chest.
"Let me go!" She stammered and bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. "Why can't you let me go?"
The Americans are just as bad as the Soviets. She thought with a scowl and glared at the entryway to her home, her prison. I will escape, I just need a plan.
With that thought now firmly entrenched in her mind she stood and took stock stepping into the study. "Did they search it first?"
Pursing her lips she sat down in the chair before her computer and pulled open a bottom drawer and saw a case labeled Fabrique Nationale d'Herstal. Smiling she popped it open and nodded to herself closing it after a moment then she glanced at the computer and set to work.
If I'm leaving I'm taking everything I need to start over.
25 March 2000, 20:43 hrs
Zone of Alienation, Ukraine, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
Duga-3 "Woodpecker" Array, Psi-experimentation Facility
"Is the subject ready?" A raspy voice asked quietly, its tone betraying a lifetime of drinking and cigarette smoking that had come before it.
"Da comrade, Doctor Nakonečný has stated that we will know within moments if the experiment is a success."
"Yamsk Eleven was a disaster with an unusual side benefit to our nation. We must be extremely careful not to cause a repeat of those events. Our instruments show that the whispers are continuing to occur, but only a few of our whispered continue to hear them. Hopefully this will correct that failure." The doctor ran a hand along his bald head and glanced at the device in the room. "Bring him in."
The metal hatch to the room opened with a creak and an eighteen year old stepped inside, a white medical gown covering him and a number of diodes were attached to his head.
"You know what you must do?" The scientist asked.
"Da comrade doctor. I must resonate with the whispers and return their harmonics to what it once was." The man answered. "The voices have not stopped for me so I believe I will be able to succeed in this venture."
"Comrade, I must ask if you are sure about this. It is Andrei Rubinka, the designer of the Savage and Shamrock you are using for this?" The younger doctor asked.
Rubinka sighed. "My whispers have not been of military technology for some time comrade, in this manner I may better be of use to the motherland. Tanya Zostoya can no longer hear her whispers, without her the Zy-99M Oplat 'Shadow-C' will never be ready for mass production."
"Very well comrade Rubinka." The younger man said as he gestured to the chair. "We shall begin at once."
Andrei swallowed and flinched as his pale skin touched the cold metal of the chair. After a few moments the two doctors began to fasten restraints over his arms and legs before lowering a helmet over his head. The cool metal of hundreds of sensors touched his scalp and he swallowed.
This is it, Tanya needs this. The army chief of staff has talked of sending her to Siberia if she doesn't finish. His thoughts drifted back to the redheaded woman working long hours in Kharkiv slaving away at the KMDB trying to work out the bugs in the new design despite a total lack of inspiration. He closed his eyes. They'd touched while in resonance, feeling what the other felt. It had been the single most intimate moment of his life, and had been when his talents had shifted. She'd finished his last design for him while he was transferred to Moscow and the KGB's whispered office. They'd stayed in touch through resonance until nearly a month ago when the whispers had stopped for her.
He wanted that contact back.
"Remember comrade, delve too deeply and you may lose yourself forever." The older man said before stepping back to the console. "We're hooking up the array now."
"Iota particles remain far below the threshold. Tau particles rising beyond background locally, bringing up the power." The younger man said.
"Focus Andrei…"
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the chair, his mind echoing with thousands of voices shouting. Focus…
Amongst the voices he could sense them, the other whispered scattered throughout the world, even those that had not had their talents awakened or their hearing failed. The scientists had said a great deal of what he must do would be visualized by his mind, he could sense them but they could not hear.
He would bridge that gap. Focusing further he searched out a single mind, one which he knew intimately. Tanya…
He found her and squeezed his eyes in concentration, forcing his mind to bridge the gap. The voices grew louder in his head.
"Tau particles rising to threshold, capacitors charged… wave emission in ten seconds!" The young man shouted.
Tanya, please hear me! It's Andrei. His mind shouted as he reached out and suddenly clasped her hand in his mind, her own thoughts ringing in his head a smile washed over his lips. Tanya!
25 March 2000, 20:55 hrs
Kharkiv, Ukraine, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
Kharkiv Morozov Machine Building Design Bureau Headquarters
Tanya Zostoya gasped. The tea cup that she'd held falling to the ground with a crash. A rivulet of blood ran down from her nose.
Tanya! A voice shouted in her mind and suddenly there were many voices all yelling at once, louder and more insistent then they had been before. Images flashed through her head one after another in swift succession. Her eyes rolled back into her sockets and she fell forward collapsing over the design table.
Her mind was still active, striding through the torrent of information, searching… Andrei?
I'm here… His mind echoed at once and a smile slipped across her unconscious lips as the lab techs around her scrambled to her assistance.
26 March 2000, 05:55 hrs
Chofu, Suburbs of Tokyo, Japan
Room 404, Mansion K Apartments
"Palladium reactor output will increase by point zero five percent…"
Sousuke felt his eyes snap open as the words penetrated his brain and he stared at Kaname's form curled beneath the blankets beside him. Her face was ashen and pale while her eyes fluttered beneath their lids, flickering and moving visibly while he watched.
Kaname? His mind went blank as she murmured again in her sleep, muttering some equations that his mind couldn't follow. He felt beads of sweat run down his forehead as he reached out and squeezed her shoulder.
Her eyes opened a crack and Kaname muttered. "Advanced quantum entanglement trans…" Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she screamed.
The voices swarmed over her conscious thoughts beating down her own mind and all she could do was scream. Desperate to let her own mind be heard over the swarm of voices. She felt like she was floating in a sea of data surrounded by formula and words that her conscious mind did not understand.
What's happening… what's happening! Sousuke? Sousuke!
A chemical formula slammed into her in her mind's eyes buffeting her about like a leaf in the fall. She grabbed at anything in reach and felt something soft. She grabbed hold digging in desperate for an anchor before the vision faded and darkness swam over her.
Sousuke stared at her form cradled in his arms her nails biting into his arm and holding it tight to her chest. Blood ran down from one of the claw marks as he watched her breathing steady and slow. Closing his eyes he let out a breath and stared at his arm uncertain what to do.
26 March 2000, 06:55 hrs
Kingsford-Smith Airport, Sydney, Australia
Terminal 1 (International Flights)
Tessa stumbled as a buzzing filling her ears and suddenly gasped as an onslaught of voices tore through her mind. Hundreds of equations streamed across her vision and schematics flashed past one after another. Chemical formulas swam before her while lines of computer code screamed past.
"Tessa?" Uncle Jerry asked as he turned to her, his cane clattering to the ground. He caught her and grunted as she crumpled in his hands. Blood ran from one of her nostrils after a moment and he glanced around the crowded terminal.
In his hands Tessa shook and her eyes watered. Pain shot up his injured leg as he held her upright and his one good eye focused on the girl he cared for as a daughter.
25 March 2000, 11:55 hrs
Mithril Base, State of Alaska, United States
Home of Sarah Miller, On-base Officer's Quarters
Sarah felt the blood running down her nose first. She sat before the computer, her hands frozen over the keyboard. Her ears began to ring as though a loud explosion had torn at her hearing while the world before her faded and white letters and numbers appeared floating before her.
Her stomach knotted as the familiar sensation of floating flooded her body. Images flashed through her mind as her hands suddenly flew over the keys disgorging equations and chemical formula with mind boggling speed. Seconds later the computer froze unable to keep up with the furious pace of data being entered.
Then the words faded and all she saw was darkness.
25 March 2000, 12:55 hrs
Groom Lake, State of Nevada, United States
Department of Black Technology
"Lieutenant!" A man yelled and the door slammed open. "Lieutenant MacDonnel! Get a medical team!"
"What, what happened?" He asked pushing past the technician.
"It's the researchers they've…"
Lieutenant MacDonnel felt his eyes widen. Slumped over three terminals were the researchers, each eighteen years old. One of them, Luke Johanns, shuddered and fell from his chair as if in the midst of a seizure. Swearing the lieutenant bent and held the young man trying to keep him from hurting himself. Blood ran down from his nose as he shook on the floor.
The soldier blinked and spun toward the door. "Go! You get them! I'll try and take care of them for now!"
25 March 2000, 20:56 hrs
Zone of Alienation, Ukraine, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
Duga-3 "Woodpecker" Array, Psi-experimentation Facility
Andrei's head lolled forward as the equipment around him powered down. His head swum as the two scientists rushed to his side. One flashed a pen light in each eye.
He didn't notice as his mind was elsewhere. His soul was dancing with joy as his mind touched Tanya's. In their minds they kissed and held each other close.
Tanya… I missed you. He smiled. God I've missed you.
Her form nodded in his mind and looked up at him, dark brown eyes locking with his. I have to. Thank you Andrei! Thank you!
"Andrei? Andrei can you hear me." The older scientist asked as he watched him. "Did you do it?"
Closing his eyes to the outside world he spoke only one word. "Da."
25 March 2000, 05:59 hrs
Chofu, Suburbs of Tokyo, Japan
Room 404, Mansion K Apartments
Kaname eyes snapped open, her arms wrapped tightly around Sousuke's and she felt sweat pouring from her body. The room spun for a moment and she gasped feeling drained. Her eyes focused on Sousuke's face mere millimeters from her own, his eyes wide with concern. She felt his strong hand wrapped around her shoulder holding him tight to his chest. His face didn't stream with sweat or blush with embarrassment for once.
"Sousuke?" She whispered quietly. "Wha… what happened?"
"You… you were screaming." His hand ran along the side of her face and scowling with concern. "And before that… you were talking about increasing the power output of the palladium reactor."
"Que… Kana-chan you—" Sousuke slapped the alarm clock shutting it up then ran his calloused hand along her cheek before checking her forehead for a fever.
The palladium reactor? Oh god… Kaname stared into his face and then squeezed her eyes shut. Please wake up, please wake up. Sofia! You bitch where are you?
No voice answered her yelling mind and her brow furrowed in concentration. Whispers spoke at the edges of her consciousness and she opened her eyes anger flaring in them. Damn it no. I wanted to be normal. Tears welled up in her eyes after a moment. I wanted a normal life after all this.
The whispers were back.
"Kaname?" Sousuke asked quietly, his eyes staring straight into hers.
"I… I'll be okay, but…" She sniffed hugged him tightly. "The whispers… they're back."
A lump rose in his throat and he slowly nodded, pulling her into a tight hug of his own. His hand ran through her hair in a clumsy caress before she buried her head in his chest. She sobbed.
"They'll be after me again."
"I know." Sousuke said quietly. She glanced up at him, suppressing the urge to ask him if he'd protect her, if he'd chase her round the world once again to save her. He would, I know he would.
Sousuke watched her eyes and leaned forward resting his forehead against hers and then he spoke as if hearing through her eyes what she was thinking. "It's not a problem."
26 March 2000, 06:01 hrs
Kingsford-Smith Airport, Sydney, Australia
Terminal 1 (International Flights)
"Tessa, can you hear me?" A familiar voice penetrated the fog of her mind as her eyes slowly creaked open.
"Uncle Jerry?" She said quietly then sat up with a jolt and glanced around. She let out a sigh of relief as she saw that she had been laid down in one of the rows of seats that crowded near one of the gates.
"Thank God, are you alright?" Jerome Borda asked as he leaned over her, a hand resting on her forehead while the other grasped his cane using it to steady himself. "You gave me quite a scare."
She nodded slowly as the memory of a few moments before flashed to the forefront of her mind. "Yes… I'll be alright, but…" She let out a long breath and shook her head. She'd wanted the silence to last for the whispered's value to plummet with Mithril's demise. "The whispers have started again."
Jerome Borda nodded slowly. "As I feared, it seems we're still needed to protect you in this world."
25 March 2000, 12:05 hrs
Mithril Base, State of Alaska, United States
Home of Sarah Miller, On-base Officer's Quarters
Sarah groaned as she felt her head loll to one side and heard the stutter of her computer's hard drive booting up. She glared at the monitor as lines of code sped by and the log in dialog box appeared. Reaching up she touched her mouth and scowled pulling a tissue from beside the computer and wiping away the blood that had ran from her nose.
Data entered prior to unexpected shut down… attempt recovery? Y/N
She sighed, tapped the keyboard, and closed her eyes as the machine set to work pulling up line after line of formulas and computer code. Some she recognized but others she didn't. "Great… can this day get any worse?"
25 March 2000, 12:20 hrs
10 km south of the Mithril Base, State of Alaska, United States
Vehicle Recovery Company, 25th Infantry Division
Christian Amanpour pulled the scarf over her nose and swallowed back a surge of bile as the smell of burnt corpses and spent ammunition filled her nose. A large military tractor was winching out a burnt out M1A1 Abrams from the creek-bed beside the road. Dozens of M2 Bradleys, Humvees, and M6 Bushnells had been reduced to hulks of charred metal. A casualty recovery team moved through the wreckage checking the insides of each vehicle for bodies.
Another Arm Slave lay smashed beside the wreck of an M163 Vulcan AAA gun. It's lower body blown apart. The hatch in the center of the chest was open. She grimaced at the sight of the humanoid machine of war. Hydraulic fluid covering the ground around it like blood and the mangled remains of the artificial musculature was torn and lay about it like entrails.
Beside her the camera whirred as it captured the images of the destruction. A half kilometer back they had filmed the wreckage of an F-15E that had been shot down, and back at base they'd managed to catch shots of the burned out wrecks that had littered the base.
Frowning she knelt beside the Arm Slave and shook her head. "Was this one Mithril's?"
The major nodded. "Yes. That was an M9E Gernsback, a third-generation arm slave. Mithril had technical superiority. It was only through weight of numbers that we were able to beat their base defense forces."
"I thought the M9 was under op-evaluation for the United States?" Her producer asked quietly.
"It is. Mithril had their own version of the XM9." The major shook his head. "Most of their equipment was produced by the same companies that make gear for NATO and the United States. In some cases it's identical."
Christian Amanpour nodded slowly as she stood up and looked over the Arm Slave. "It looks like the pilot got out. I'm surprised there aren't more bodies on either side."
"Most western equipment is designed for high crew survivability. On the M1s for instance the ammunition is stowed in a compartment that automatically seals and vents on an impact. On a soviet T-72, especially the low quality export variants, ammunition might be stored next to the crew. The BMP series has a gas tank in the rear door where troops would egress its little wonder very few get out of their equipment. Plus both sides had body armor as standard issue. Fatalities are much lower then you probably expected though total casualties may be about as high as you'd expect." The major paused for a moment. "Some of the troops say they think Mithril was aiming for less lethal strikes. It's hard to make an arm slave's destruction survivable but losses among personnel there have been low." He glanced around the wreckage. "They haven't found a body in several hours, so the current death toll should be accurate so long as the wounded are well taken care of."
Christian Amanpour nodded. There was a difference in the very nature of the battlefield. Its smell for one was different. On most battlefields one could actually smell rotting and burnt flesh. That odor was almost totally absent, replaced by the overpowering smell of expended ordnance, cordite and gunpowder from modern small arms, phosphorous from the tracers and flares, and the smell of oil and grease.
She glanced back at the camera crew walking up the hill to take a wide shot of the valley. They stood beside one of the TOW launchers that had been dug in at the base of the ridge and had a clear view of the entire area and gestured around the area.
The mass of destruction was breath taking. "How long did the battle last? Most of the big engagements I filmed in Yugoslavia didn't have this many wrecks and they went on for days, weeks, or even months."
"It took just shy of two hours, though the actual fighting only lasted probably about a half hour. Most of these wrecks were from the first fifteen minutes or so of fighting." The major shook his head slowly. "After that Mithril stopped shooting as ambulances and other battlefield responders moved up, though the fight in the air didn't have a pause in it like that."
"They stopped shooting?" Christian Amanpour asked in surprise.
"Yes."
She shook her head. "I've got to meet these people. Most mercenaries I've come across seem more like thugs with guns then the sort to have a code of behavior like that."
"Miss Amanpour, Mithril is not most mercenaries."
Her producer waved at her. "Christian, it's Atlanta!"
"Setup a camera quick then." She said running a hand through her hair.
26 March 2000, 07:10 hrs
Chofu, Suburbs of Tokyo, Japan
Room 404, Mansion K Apartments
Kaname pursed her lips as she ran a hand through her hair one last time as she sat the hair dryer down. Her stomach growled with hunger and the empty refrigerator and pantry sat outside the door of her bathroom waiting for her.
"We'll have to go shopping today." She said quietly as she picked up the clothes she'd selected for the day and started to get dressed. She'd chosen a tan sweater and black pants from her ensemble and sighed as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror.
Sousuke never really notices what I wear, not really. Unless it's really revealing, then he just clams up and sweats up a storm.
That done she picked up the stun gun from the side of the sink and checked its charge, her mind busying itself to keep from pointing out that carrying it in here would have been something a certain sergeant would do. Slipping it in a pocket she stretched and yawned.
I hate mornings.
The thought just sat there for a long moment as she padded out the bathroom door and glanced at Sousuke sitting by the couch, his eyes focused on the television. "It's free."
"It's over." Sousuke muttered quietly as he stood. "I will not take long."
Kaname blinked as he mind rewound to the day before and she sighed. He must mean America's attack on Mithril.
"I didn't use all the hot water." When he didn't respond she folded her arms over her chest and huffed. "I know you didn't sleep that well last night. Go on and wake yourself up." Kaname said as she stepped aside letting him past. "I was thinking we should go out for breakfast since we've finished the leftovers from the party and there isn't anything else here to eat."
"Affirmative."
"How bad is it?" Kaname finally asked glancing at the television screen as footage of a smashed M1 Abrams being towed out of a creek-bed appeared.
"America is claiming total casualties of one-hundred-and-fifty-nine. No word on Mithril losses." He shook his head. "Nor has there been any word on Tessa or Sarah."
"That's less than I thought it'd be." Kaname said quietly.
"The Alaska base had only a skeleton force there when I picked up the ARX-8." Sousuke glanced at her. "But it was the largest single force Mithril had left."
"So Mithril as a military force… is over?" Kaname asked.
"Affirmative, now America alone has the role of world policeman. They were not up to the job before. I wonder if they are now." Sousuke closed the door. "I will just be five minutes Kaname."
"Take as long as you need!" Kaname said as she stared at the television.
Mithril is gone, the whispers have returned, and America alone is the world's policeman. She rubbed her temple. What will happen now? Who will protect the whispered? Hell… who will pay for all the damages that Sousuke incurs!
Scowling she picked up her harisen from the counter and tapped her shoulder with it for a moment. "I'm going to have to keep a tight leash on that military otaku."