The Big Switch

by dave-d

Kaname visits a medical center with secret facilities, to help research the origin of the Whispers. No good deed goes unpunished. Who will be the hero this time? The answer is not as simple as it might seem.

22. Chapter 22

Having roughed everything in, this is the second-to-the-last chapter, unless you count the future 'Epilogue', yet to be penned.

So, maybe this is like a long rollercoaster ride that you realized you hated, moments after you left the station, fated to remain onboard until the ride is finished. Hopefully you won't throw up when you step out of the coaster car. And don't stand up during the final chapters!

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IN THE LABORATORY

The scene in the laboratory had calmed down considerably.

At first, having heard storied about Sousuke and Arbalest, most of the people in the room had assumed that Sousuke was going to win. They were hoping for a kickass-fight, something better than any pay-for-view contest could hope to match… with Sousuke winning a close fight in the end.

Everyone had shouted cheers and made exclamations of support. It had been a remarkably raucous place.

Now, with all that had happened, many in the room doubted that he had even a snowball's chance in Hell. They all looked at Kaname… Sousuke's body…. as if she would be the grieving 'woman' from the tragedy of their choosing. They almost felt a rush to get their words of condolence out now, even though she hadn't lost someone dear to her yet. Some felt sick at heart, feeling as if Sgt. Sousuke Sagara of Mithril was fighting for them, too.

"I'm alright," Kaname told Anne, having just wiped away another tear. "I'm more worried about him, than I am for me. You know what I mean." She accepted a Kleenex box from a kindly technician and blew her nose. She frowned when Dr. Necessiter called out "Sounds like an eighteen wheeler," as if she were an air horn.

Dr. Hfuhruhurr pulled one hand down, mimicking a pit boss at a quarry, tugging on a whistle cord, signaling the end of the work shift. "Toooo-ooo-oo-o!"

"What would I do without the two of them," Kaname said sourly.

"A heck of a lot better, I imagine. "Anne said. "I think after all of this is over, the club owners should look at splitting up the band, if you know what I mean. With all of the new scientific leads that we've scribbled down in the past day or two, there will be more than enough research for a couple of new high priority laboratories."

"Well, maybe that's for the best." Kaname said sadly. "But… don't tell either of them this… it will give them even bigger heads…I am certainly thankful that they were both here today. Things wouldn't have turned out the way that they have, if it wasn't for those two characters."

"You seem to have a thing for characters, right?" Anne nodded her head towards the television set, where Arbalest was fighting a close-in battle with the other Arm Slave.

"Well… hah hah…." Kaname could manage nothing more than a weak mock laugh. She felt claustrophobic, as if the room was closing in on her. "You know… he does work hard to protect me… and we are the same age and all…." The way that the other woman looked at her plainly said 'I know there's more than that,' and 'If that boy wasn't the Guiness Book of Record's top entry for cluelessness, I know that you would want more… maybe even a great deal more.' She sighed, and hugged 'herself.' "He's just so-"

"Dense?" Anne offered. "Doesn't know how the game is played?"

"Affirmative," Kaname said on purpose, feeling that Sousuke was a tiny bit closer that way. "He is always putting his life on the line for me when I need it. But… well… it's not as if I haven't returned the favor… I have…." She sighed. "But this time… this time he's caught up in things because I didn't want my high school career put on hold…." She rubbed both temples. "If he should…."

"It's a little too early for guilt, isn't it?" Anne remarked. "You didn't reach down inside of your man purse… take out an A.S…. and shoot it over to him, right? Mithril sent it over. No one forced him to climb onboard."

"That's true," Kaname replied. "And the big jerk probably did something that pissed the other A.S. guy off!" She swallowed hard and tried to be the plucky heroine in a hero's body. "When he gets back here, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. Uhh-hh-h." That was a Sousuke noise! "I've already done that-" She froze, her eyes going wide.

"It might work both ways," Anne quickly put in, correctly guessing Kaname's thought process. "You've come up with some important contributions today that seemed out of character or out of context, right? Who's to say that some key thing that he did today… or might do now… doesn't owe a lot to his Class Representative?"

"Right," Kaname said, nodding and wiping he nose. "Hah hah hah." She ran a hand through Sousuke's hair. "But the doubt comes and goes, like I'm playing ping pong with myself. I mean… it's the same with my hope and my fear… it's like they've tuned my mind into a movie screen. Sometimes, I'm really happy, thinking the good guy has to win in the end. But then, I remember, there are plenty of movies with a sad ending. I don't want our real life to be like one of those Japanese anime stories with a sad finish."

"So," Anne said, frowning. Doctors Hfuhruhurr and Necessiters had entered their orbit again. She gave them a 'this is very personal' grimace;' but, that only made them grin and step closer. "Is there any particular film you are relating to?" The young woman's answer should prove insightful. "Where the good guys struts off stage triumphant? After a tough or sad beginning?"

"Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back'," Dr. Hfuhruhurr suggested, having only heard the 'sad' part. "It might not be as much of a downer when you consider it's the middle part of a trilogy, but there's no doubt that the film stands as one of the greatest examples of a film where the heroes lose at seemingly every turn."

Anne put a finger to her lips and narrowed her eyes. Did that man ever hear himself talk?

"That's right, Furbie," Dr. Necssiter said. "That reason alone is why the film is considered to have one of the best cliffhanger endings of all-time. Maybe we'll have Sousuke hanging from something today!" He posed when Dr. Hfuhruhurr gave him a thumbs up. "When Luke is separated from Han, Leia, and the rest of the gang for the film's middle act, things start to get exciting when it's clear the characters are on their way toward a reunion, presumably to triumph over Darth Vader and the Empire. But even before Luke gets there, it's clear things will not be that simple."

"What fun would that be," a bumbling engineer said, dropping a slide rule and kicking it across the floor. Before running after it, he finished by saying. "We don't want no stinking easy wins!" From a distance, after picking up the wayward item, he added: "Han is frozen in carbonate and handed over to Boba Fett. Luke arrives just in time to fall into Darth Vader's trap. And just when you think the boy is holding his own with Yoda's training, his hand is cut off, sending his lightsaber spiraling into Cloud City's air shaft as Darth Vader gives the infamous revelation, 'I am your father'."

"But they do win in the end, right!" Kaname tried to sound more chipper than she felt. "They all live, and Darth Vader turns good, and shows up smiling with Obi-Wan and Yoda in ghost form."

"Maybe the guy in the orange A.S. is Sagara's long lost brother, separated at birth!" A technician said, as if this was some corny novel or sitcom.

"Or his ex-lover," a Security woman put in, licking her lips. "Coming to get his revenge." She hugged herself, a dreamy look in her eye.

"Or one's a vampire," a pimple-faced communications tech offered. "And the other's a werewolf." He rubbed his hands together. "That's always a kick ass fight!" He didn't see the incredulous look that Kaname gave him. Some people had left their brains along with all metallic items, when they had passed through the metal detectors at the hospital entrance.

"Shhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h," Anne shushed, immediately feeling foolish. She took a whistle out of her pocket… put it to her mouth… and blew on it. That would work better.

Tweeeeeeee-eeeeeee-eeeeee-eeeee-eeee-eee-ee-e-eeeeeeeeeeeeee-!- !- !- !- !- !- !

Everyone stopped with their unwelcome interjections, looking sheepish.

"I can do better than that," that woman Security guard spoke up again. "Empire was a happy ending in transit. For true tragedy, it's hard to top 'The Mist,' right?" She didn't know why they had gotten on the movie topic in the first place. "Mrpfphrphl-" Anne had clamped her hand firm over her mouth. She didn't notice that someone snuck the whistle out of her lab coat pocket, or when the thief… Dr. Necessiter… spun it around his finger, before tossing it behind a huge stack of machines.

"You betcha!" A hired contractor put his foot into the ring. "The movie was based on the Stephen King novella of the same name and revolves around a small town that becomes covered in a mist that holds otherworldly creatures. When survivors become trapped in a supermarket, tensions arise as some start to question whether they are experiencing a religious event."

"You never know," one of the leftover religious women said. "God's Creation is amazing, after all. Quantum Physics didn't create itself." That almost started a fight with some scientific types.

"Branching off from the printed work-" Dr. Hfuhruhurr began. "-Where five survivors drive off into the mist and their fate was uncertain… sort of like our current situation… director Frank Darabont… the guy from 'The Walking Dead'… manages to cut out any ambiguity while making the ending even more bleak."

"Yeh," a custodian chimed in. "Really dark. As the group of survivors travel through the mist, their spirits are crushed after they see an impossibly tall creature just before their vehicle runs out of gas. Believing they are all doomed, the group decides that death by gun is better than getting torn apart by the creatures. The protagonist then takes the gun and shoots all four passengers, including his son, before going outside to die after running out of bullets. But just then, the army rolls through the mist along with survivors from earlier in the film…."

"The five had been less than a minute away from being saved." The contractor said, happy to have been able to be involved in one of the high-brow conversations. The dim light bulb above his head flared to life when Anne gave him a look that would make a harpy piss herself. "I mean… that is to say… I'm sure that the white A.S. has more than a minute left…."

Anne patted herself down, frantically. Where had she put that whistle?

"Those movies were rough in spots," a custodian said, stopping his mop work. Someone had brought in a Fanta Grape frozen slushie pack and knocked it onto the floor. Someone else had stepped on it. "But, you guys only take the bronze and silver medals." He held his mop handle upright, and put his weight on it, as if he were about to make a beer-powered speech in a smoky and seedy establishment. "The gold medal goes to one of the greatest films ever made, Roman Polanski's 'Chinatown'. It was a neo-noir starring Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway and was inspired by the California Water Wars at the beginning of the twentieth century."

"It is also the name of a Thin Lizzy album," a grizzled and middle-aged electrical expert added. "You know…" By the look of it, no one did. "Not their best album by a longshot… but it did have 'Killer on the Loose'." He wondered why the young man with the scarred face flinched, and looked up at the television screen. "I know someone must remember that!" He began singing in a quiet voice:

"Now I'm not trying to be nasty
Or I'm not trying to make you scared"

"Wonderful," Anne said in a rush. "I just have to remember to invite you to the next Christmas party. I'm sure you'll be a biggg-gg-g hit." She motioned for Kaname to follow her and began walking away. That action did not stop the conversation. Kaname just stood there, feet flat on the ground, and head somewhere in the clouds.

"Jake Gittes… the impeccable Jack Nicholson… was a private investigator who got roped into a case that eventually snowballed into something far beyond his control. He found out the hard way that he's incapable of standing up to the evil that Noah Cross… the immortal John Huston…represents. After Gittes made plans for Evelyn… the lovely Dunaway… and her daughter Katherine's escape to Mexico, he then confronted Cross who quickly forced him to lead them to the pair in Chinatown. Once they arrived, the police were already waiting and detained Gittes."

"My myyy-yy-y," Anne said sharply. "That sure was tragic. I can see why the Albanian judges gave it a 10." She purposely flicked her wrist behind her back. A large Styrofoam coffee cup, full nearly to the brim with the steaming beverage, hit the floor and exploded. "Oh no! Clean up in area Seven."

"I'm on it!" The mopsman ran to the spill, smiling when Anne said 'Attaboy,' when he slid to a stop, mop spinning like a large baton. Unfortunately for her, he could multi-task. And, he became even more animated as he worked. Before resuming his film critique, he said "You… Lizzy… kick me my bucket." He stopped the rolling and sloshing container with his foot and dropped the mop in. While using the roller to squeeze out the frothy liquid, he picked up where he had left off: "As Cross approached Katherine… his daughter of incest with Evelyn… Evelyn shot Cross in the arm and took off down the road in her car as the police opened fire, killing her. Then, Cross took Katherine and led her away as Gittes looked on helplessly. 'Forget it, Jake' they told him. 'It's Chinatown'."

"Incest?" Dr. Necessiter said. "I have to see that movie."

"You had me at Faye Dunaway," Dr. Hfuhruhurr piped up. "Hubba hubba."

"But… well…." Kaname tried to laugh, but couldn't. "That ending's bad, I guess. But it's not like the hero died, right?" She watched as the A.S. battled led to a reverse version of urban renewal.

"That's one of the most tragic endings in all of cinema," the custodian claimed, with some heat. He smacked his mop pole hard against the floor, causing small droplets of liquid to fly off in a circular pattern. "Gittes's attempts at fulfilling the usual role of the victorious private eye are dashed in all respects."

"Usually victorious," Kaname mouthed, confidence wavering.

"The police are unwilling to hear out the conspiracy he has discovered," the custodian added.

"Conspiracies," Kaname said, thinking of Amalgam.

"His love interest was killed-" The custodian was unstoppable. He didn't wonder why another beverage spill had occurred, further away than the last. No matter, he was not too proud to shout. "-And the villain succeeded in retrieving Katherine and fulfilling his plans."

"Love interest killed?" Kaname felt her face grow warm. "The villain retrieves the young girl." She felt a chill go down her spine.

"So," the custodian said with a flourish, spinning his bucket about lithely, a veritable maestro with a mop. "Instead of being the winner at the end, Gittes was left knowing that not only has he lost every battle waged, but he is powerless to fight back against the enormous evil that exists in the world."

"-" That last sentence had tears coming to 'Kaname's' eyes. Was Sousuke destined to be defeated? Was it her fate to be spirited away? She didn't want to be the cause of his death! Especially if she was doomed, anyway!

"You!" Anne pointed to the Security guard, next telling her "You're fired." She then grabbed a passing errand boy from the Coffee Shop… pinned the badge on him… and said "Welcome to Security. For your first job, take these people to a room and hold them until I call you." She pointed at the custodian. "Whatever your regular duties were, you are now the new 'Clogged Toilet Specialist'. Congratulations. That will require you to be on-call 24/7!" Cursing, she felt as if she had forgotten something. Negative images of two particular participants faded from her mind. Doctors Hfuhruhurr and Necessiter had already beat a hasty retreat.

They were worse than cockroaches when the light comes on!

"Do you still feel like talking?" Anne asked. "I apologize for all of those jerks. They really should know better."

"Yes." Kaname said. "It's better right now for me to talk about something." She couldn't help but glance at the television. "Anything."

"So," Anne said. "Your movie?" Drs. Hfuhruhurr and Necessiter still were nowhere to be seen. She nodded approval. She gently turned Kaname's body so that she was no longer looking at the news footage.

"It's 'Cinderella Man'," Kaname said. "An American film starring Russell Crowe, Renée Zellweger and Paul Giamatti. It's based on a true story."

"I haven't seen that one," Anne admitted truthfully.

"James J. Braddock was a light heavyweight contender-" Kaname began. "-Who was forced to give up boxing after breaking his hand in the ring. This was both a relief and a burden to his wife, Mae. She could not bring herself to watch the violence of his chosen profession… yet, she knew that they would not have enough income for them or their kids without his boxing."

"Tradeoffs," Anne said, having lived through those herself. "Just like with you and the Sergeant. The more danger he puts himself in, the safer you are. You sometimes wish that you could shoulder the danger, to keep him safe. But, it's his job. And now, to him, it's more than just a job. So now you have to shoulder the fear and the guilt and the uncertainty. In a way… it's like teamwork."

"Yes," Kaname said softly. "The film was based on a time when the United States entered into its Great Depression. Braddock did manual labor as a longshoreman to support his family, even with his injured hand. Unfortunately, he could not get work every day. Thanks to a last-minute cancellation by another boxer, Braddock's longtime manager and friend offered him a chance to fill in for just one night and earn some cash. The fight was against the number-two contender in the world."

"Let me guess," Anne said. "The Little Engine That Could, right?"

"Uh huh," Kaname replied. "Braddock stunned the boxing experts and fans with a third-round knockout of his formidable opponent. He believed that while his right hand was broken, he became more proficient with his left hand, improving his in-ring ability. Despite Mae's objections, he took up his manager's offer to return to the ring. He kept winning. When his rags to riches story got out, a sportswriter dubbed him "The Cinderella Man", and before long Braddock came to represent the hopes and aspirations of the American public struggling with the Depression."

"Cinderella Man," Anne laughed. "That's kind of fitting. Kind of a gender-bending name… you know…." She coughed, feeling a bit of humor might be helpful, but still feeling a bit inappropriate. "But… for Sousuke… there's no fame. Nobody ever knows what odds he's fighting against. He should be the subject of admiration, but…."

"Well… I know it," Kaname said, in a solemn tone. "Like Braddock, Sousuke is backed into a corner. He is the only one who can use Arbalest… and Arbalest has the only Lambda Driver in Mithril." She sounded exasperated, now. "But… I think… like the boxer… Sousuke likes what he does…."

"And may never want to leave it?" Anne asked, sagely. "May never leave it, before it leaves him… the hard way…."

"It scares me," Kaname admitted. "For so many different reasons. Mae never had to worry if James was a violent man… he was wonderful with her and the kids. Sousuke… I…." She didn't want to follow that thought down the rabbit hole. "A title fight against heavyweight champion Baer came Braddock's way, with him listed as a 10-to-1 underdog. Mae was terrified because Baer was a vicious man who reportedly had killed at least two men in the ring. He was so destructive that the fight's promoter forced both Braddock and his manager to watch a film of Baer in action, just so he could maintain later that he had warned them what Braddock was up against."

"But he won, right…." Anne followed Kaname's gaze. She was watching the newsfeed again. The camera images showed Arbalest fighting a defensive battle, full of a few ups and a bunch of downs. "Or at least he walked away alive…."

"It was one of the greatest upsets in boxing history," Kaname reported. "Braddock defeated the seemingly invincible Baer to become the heavyweight champion of the world. He would later lose his title to Joe Louis, one of the best boxers in history, and a man who praised him for his toughness. Braddock later helped build the Verrazano Bridge, owning and operating heavy machinery on the docks where he worked during the Depression. He and Mae used his boxing income to buy a nice house, where they spent the rest of their lives."

"If it can happen once…." Anne said. "And if probably has happened many times across history…." She gave Kaname an expectant look.

"It can happen again," Kaname breathed. "Please, Sousuke." She wanted to pull her gaze away, but was afraid what might happen if she did.

She suddenly felt very superstitious.

"Great!" Anne said, satisfied. "I was afraid it was going to be another one of those tragic endings. But, you didn't mention any of the bad parts of boxing, like gambling and throwing fights."

"Sousuke doesn't take part in anything like paid gladiatorial games," Kaname said. "And he'll never throw a fight." He couldn't. In most of his battles, losing meant dying. "

"I bet he wins for a different reason now," Anne said shrewdly, watching Sousuke Sagara's face. "It's one thing to fight because it's your job. It's better to fight for something… or someone…."

Time passed slowly for Kaname, eyes glued to the television set. Her emotions ran the gamut. They rose up, and slid back down quickly, like a rollercoaster from Hell. Just when it seemed like Sousuke was getting a break… and the Sling disappeared… the enemy broke out a Jai Alai-thingie. Then, that pink Bear Guy struck big time. She was furious when she saw the orange A.S. juggling cars containing cowering children. She clenched hers fists and called out non-vocal utterances each time Arbalest caught a falling automobile. Her heart jumped up into her throat, as she watched the white machine play the role of training dummy as the orange Arm Slave hit and kicked it with frightening abandon. Why wasn't Sousuke using the Lambda Driver? Maybe he needed her! She turned to look for a phone.

There was a sudden loud commotion across the room, over near the com-set. When Anne went stomping over to investigate, Kaname followed, wondering if her watching TV was the jinx after all. The two women pushed their way through a wall of spectators, most of them men. There was a white plastic bowl in the center of the open floor space. There were stacks of money everywhere, and one man… wearing four wristwatches… was rubbing his hands together. Other men watched with great interest. was shaking one hand. "Baby needs a new pair of shoes," he called out, before through dice that another man covered with the bowl. "Remember! No IOUs!" The bowl was removed. "It's Cho!" He struck a victorious and overly flamboyant pose. "Righteous!"

The scientist's elation died the moment that he saw Anne. "Hi… Anne… you see…." He stuffed the winnings inside of his shirt… stood up… and started baking away. "I'm taking up a collection for Sousuke. The boy will probably need to be hospitalized here, after the battle and after the transfer process. This-" He patted his shirt. "-This will buy one heck of a fruit basket!"

"And a hooker," the man who won the watches put in. "We can get him one dressed up as a nurse. He can use his thermometer to take her temperature. Heh heh." He saw the look on Kaname's face. He backtracked faster than a centipede in reverse. He should have kept going. "No… not a hooker…" Indeed, he was not a very quick learner. "I meant stripper…."

"How could you," Annne shook a finger in rage. "That's not some sport to bet on." She waved towards the large TV. "And you know hospital rules. There's no gambling allowed."

"That's not entirely true," a junior level administrator said. "On special occasions, they allow charity gambling." That's a form of incentivized giving where a charity…or a group of charities… rather than a municipality or private casino… oversees gambling activities such as bingo, roulette, lottery, and slot machines and uses the proceeds to further its charitable aims. "The charity we're donating towards is Sergeant Sousuke Sagara." He turned to face Sousuke's body. "And Kaname Chidori."

"No hooker for her!" the man with the watches said, nodding his head. "Unless she likes guys who look like Chippendales. I have a buddy who knows some guys…."

"Just a gigolo," Dr. Hfuhruhurr began singing. "Everywhere I go…people know the part…I'm playing. Paid for every dance…selling each romance…Ooh what they're saying."

"Don't quit your day job," the young executive suggested.

"Please do," Anne growled.

Kaname ignored all that. She felt conflicted. The gambling seemed inappropriate; but Dr. Hfuhruhurr and the others said that they were doing it for the benefit of the two of them, not as a way to exploit their situation.

"Naturally, like usual charity gambling-" Dr. Hfuhruhurr explained. "-We will donate a substantial part of the funds to the boy and the girl." He struck another heroic pose. "According to the local Association of Charity Lotteries, ideally, the operational costs of the lottery do not exceed 20% of turnover, with the remaining 80% donated to the chaity or charities."

"You'll donate 100%," Anne said, sternly. "And then you will throw in some of your own money into the kitty, to make up for your gaff!" She narrowed her gaze. "After that you'll-" Whatever she was about to say was drowned out by an even louder roar. It came from the other side of the laboratory.

"No!" Kaname had turned to watch the news feed again. Sousuke was in bad straits! She brought a hand to 'her' mouth. Arbalest was now pinned on its back, unmoving. "Oh no! Sousuke, please get up!"

"I told you he'd go for the pin," a voice called out loudly. "Pay up!" Anne began homing in on that voice, like a heat-seeking missile.

Kaname froze. Gambling again. This seemed so much worse than a dice game, though. Betting on what might happen in a fight like this… it was like uncaring people betting at a dog fight. Soiusuke was not some dog raised just for fighting!

She had, admittedly, viewed him as a chibi-dog with a cute chibi-Sousuke face at times in the past.

As Anne fought her wall through another wall of men, she heard a number of people wondering just what had happened, and why neither A.S. was moving. Some called out new predictions, when the orange A.S. rose and stood again.

"There's an explosion. From an outside player!" One unseen man said.

Not that much later, something dramatic and unexpected happened, and the familiar voice of Dr. Necessiter called out: "Well, I bet no one saw that one coming!"

"I did!" Finally making her way through, Anne saw the scrawny beanpole of a man who had shouted hold up a slip of paper. He handed it to the nearest man to validate.

"It reads 'flying'," the man said, incredulously.

"I'll be a monkey's uncle," Dr. Necessiter said, not making a reference to Reggie and the departed Adam and Eve. "Did you write down where they will land? Let me guess? Gilligan's Island!"

"Huh?" That noise came from many people at once.

"Duh de duh duh de duhhhh de duh deeeeeeh…." Dr. Necessiter said. "Yeh," he replied to one woman. "The one with the boat!"

"Somebody may find himself on a deserted island," Anne said ominously. "There's all sorts of research to do in all sorts of backwater laboratories." Fed up, she called out for everyone to clear the room now, since the machines were all set to where they needed to be until Sousuke returned. She could care less that the gambling activities were intended to raise funds to support the two youths. Charity gamblers always need to be wise enough to consult with knowledgeable legal counsel prior to engaging in gambling activities, to ensure that such activities are conducted in compliance with applicable charitable gambling and solicitation laws.

The gamblers in this situation should have been wise enough not to gamble at all!

"Want to buy a raffle ticket?" A bespectacled grandame, support staff by the look of it, sidled up to Anne and next said: "We were also thinking of starting Mahjong, if you prefer that."

"Or there's Arm Slave Bingo over there." A technician pointed to a small cluster of people near the entrance.

"It's an E," a chubby church lady said. By luck, she had had a bingo set-up in the back of the church van.

"That makes S… A.. V… A… G…E." The woman who had previously decorated the machinery with Rube Goldberg cartoons clapped her hands like a little child. "BINGO!"

"Don't you think this would be more fun with some classy décor?" A communications tech asked no one in particular.

"Right!" An engineer nodded his head, and said. "We could also televise things throughout the hospital… and take bets over the phone."

"Perfect timing," a FedEx delivery boy remarked. "I have the snails you ordered for racing."

"I… said… stop!" Anne yelled. No one heard her, or no one cared to listen.

"Let me, miss ma'am," a newly-arrived Security woman offered. She took out her pistol, and put three rounds into the ceiling, luckily missing sensitive equipment that dotted the upper reaches of the room.

That didn't work, either.

"Gun!" Anne held out her hand. She didn't confiscate it. She put it to use. "You're all on my list!"

*BANG*

Dr. Necessiter put a hand to his chest, as if he were checking to make certain he was still intact. The television went black. There was a bullet hole, dead center.

The way that Anne stood, it looked like she was a Bond girl from an opening film sequence, or maybe a shoe-in for the first female 007.

Kaname hadn't heard that shot. No, it simply hadn't registered on her. An earlier TV image had left her stricken: two Arm Slaves rising into the sky.

What was going on?

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RISING ABOVE SOSHIGAWA PARK

For a few seconds, the cockpit felt like it had zero gravity.

As Arbalest moved ever further upward, there was a strong feeling of horizontal motion. All viewscreens were in operation, showing ground, sky, and the immediate surroundings.

"There has been no movement," Sousuke remarked, referring to the orange Arm Slave. "Either the pilot is dead or severely injured… or he does not know we are here." He had expected the enemy to kick sharply or to reach back with his A.S.'s hand.

The front screen was now slaved to the cameras that showed the ground below. Part of that screen showed the crowd, which had now boiled out onto the street. Some must be helping the injured. But, as evidenced by spoardic flashes of light, some were taking photos with their cell phones and cameras.

"That-"Sousuke noticed the other noteworthy sights below just before they were too far away to see any more. "We-" The area of the battle was a scene of devastation, with building destroyed and pockmarks scoring ground and structures alike. There were clouds of dust and trails of smoke. "Urban areas are always-" He closed 'his' eyes and took a deep breath. What else could he have realistically done? Win the battle faster!

At least Jindai High School had been left untouched.

"Arm muscle strength is at 82 percent," the A.I. reported. "Bilateral. Left hand strength is at 86 percent. Right is at 84 percent."

There was the feeling of a sudden short drop, barely felt against the upward movement. Small pieces of metal and polymer bounced off the front of the ARX-7.

"Shit!" Souuske felt his sphincter tighten. "Is that-" He moved one camera. The hip joint of the orange machine was no longer on fire, and the smoke had decreased. But, what structural integrity did that coupling have? "Firing!" He aimed and fired the remaining wire gun. "Dammit!" A miss. The time it took to respool the cable felt terribly long. There was another small drop. "Firing again!"

Just as the wire gun fired, the enemy A.S.'s remaining leg detached. Arbalest was in freefall. The cable shot upward and wrapped around the balloon cable, forming a tight knot, and sliding down to be stopped by the balloon box.

"Today would be a good day to visit a racetrack or gambling casino," Al opined. "It seems it is your lucky day."

"Hanging from a cable high above the city," Sousuke growled. "Is not my idea of good luck!" He knew what the computer meant. He somehow resented the wording, which in a human would suggest good cheer. "Spend less time blabbing and more time finding a solution. Adjust the torque on the winch and spool in the wire cable, hopefully without dislodging the hold. Otherwise there won't be enough of you left to be put in a smart watch!"

"Retrieving cable now," Al reported. "There is some slippage; but, the device was made to hold this weight. At least it was, in pristine condition." There was no system dedicated to monitoring something as insignificant as that small winch.

"Here we go!" When the ARX-7 had risen sufficiently, Sousuke reached up with Arbalest's free hand and grabbed hold of the balloon box. "No!" The door to the box swung open, and began to tear free from its hinges. "What can I-" That! The anti-armor dagger, now in hand, plunged into the back of the enemy. "Timing is everything-"

Arbalest only had two hands, of course. What came next could be tricky.

Sousuke had the ARX-7 shake one wrist abruptly, and then two times more, until the wire cable detached, and could be rolled up. With that hand, Arbalest grabbed hold of the balloon cable, as far up as it could reach. After the young soldier checked the grip a couple of times, trying to figure out how much friction was available, he held on tight, and retrieved the dagger. He swung up carefully, and gripped the cable higher with the other hand.

"What's our GPS, pal." Sousuke asked. "The cloud cover was low now, and they were entering the bottom layer. He could not make out individual buildings on any of the screens. Before long, there was the scent of ocean air.

"We are flying over the Pacific Ocean," Al replied. "I am gathering precise data from satellites now. If we hold this course, our destination would be Australia. The central areas of that continent could easily hold a vast runway system. Of course, the initial flight path could easily be a diversion, should any one catch sight of us. Vast open areas of Russia might make more strategic sense."

"No guts, no glory." Sousuke muttered to himself. He used a hand over hand motion to have Arbalest climb high enough so that he could place one foot on the top of the balloon box. "So-" Should he just ride things up like this, and act further when they reached the top? Or, should he take care of the enemy A.S. while he could? "Let's try this." He had the A.S. squat some… removed one hand… and tried to see if he could pry the box off of the back of the enemy machine. The welds were too strong.

"Now we will see how good my luck truly is," the pilot said. "This is crazy. But, the whole day has been like something out of a bad sitcom." He almost expected to wake up in the shower, to find out it had all been a dream. He took out the monomolecular cutter and fired it up. "Keep a close look at hand strength, pal."

There was a voice coming through the com-set. It was Mr. Magnesium. "Wh-wh-wh-" The voice sounded groggy. "What the fuck happened?"

This was bad. The orange A.S., if it had any arm strength, could reach up and detach Arbalest with relative ease.

"Lucas?" Mr. Magnesium said. "Hey! Lucas!" There was a slight pause, and then his voice went up a few octaves. "Lucas!" Another pause, and a more frantic enquiry. "Lucas, Goddammit. What are you doing?!"

"Is Lucas his Artificial Intelligence?" Al asked. The audio was being sent to the other A.S.

"That would seem a logical assumption," Sousuke said. He had decided to stick the psychological knife in, taking a very risky gamble. A trapped animal can be twice as dangerous as one that is free. But, a stressed adversary can be taken out of the game easier. "But… it could also be his penis. He's a male model, so it may have finally decided to quit working." He laughed. "Or it may have fallen off."

"Shut up!" Mr. Magnesium shouted. "Shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch…." Something was finally sinking in. "What? How?" The radio signal was strong. The locator screen had the ARX-7's red dot practically enveloping Lucas's green dot. Swiveling a camera, her saw the reason for that. "Get… off… of… me." He tried levers, with no success. He flicked swtiches, pushed buttons, turned dials, all to no affect. "They won't work! The arms won't work."

"Thanks for that heads up," Sousuke said. He did not feel safe yet, if only because he was in a precarious situation either way. For all he knew, the enemy could be putting on one hell of an act. His A.I. might be fine. The orange machines' arm function might be optimal. Just the same, he had to end this as quickly as possible. Who could say what was at the other end of that big cable? Troops? Another A.I.? He didn't want the Mr. Magnesium to start giving orders. "But I'm afraid that it's time for you to head down."

"Like a sweet muffin," Al put in, remembering what its pilot and Mr. magnesium had said earlier.

"You can't do that!" Mr. Magnesium said, with fury at first. "You can't do that to me!" Then, his voice cracked. He deflated like a balloon, and all that remained was a sickening whine. "Please… we can make a deal… I'm sure we can come to some kind of an arrangement…."

"I'll arrange for you to have some music-" Sousuke said, preparing for his next move. This is where things would get dicey. "-Since you were rocking so hard, right?" He typed in a non-verbal command for Al. Power would be shunted to the muscle strands for the hands, leaving hands and legs dormant for now. "But, giving your situation, I figure it should be something appropriate. Elevator music comes to mind, right. Going down!" He grinned, thinking of something better. "No. Since you are Derek Zoolander… you can stop me with Magnum… right?" He typed in another command for Al. He wanted him to find the song and band names for the song played in the Ben Stiller film.

Maha, hiya
Give it to me one time now
Well-ell, no-oh, well-ell
Now

As the song began, Sousuke fired up the monomolecular cutter. He swung it down between Arbalest's legs, preparing to cut the cable's connection to its winch.

"Hah!" Mr. Magnesium said. He was not showing amusement at the song choice. The red lights blinking on one panel were now a solid yellow. "Hah hah hah!"

Relax, don't do it
When you want to go to it
Relax, don't do it
When you want to come

Zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz

The cutter's teeth were cutting through the cable with ease with ease. Soon, the orange machine's connection was down to a few tough metal strands.

Relax, don't do it
When you want to sock it to it
Relax, don't do it
When you want to come
When you want to come

"Spread'em, slut!" Mr. Magnesium said. "Because you are so fucked! If I'm going to go down, then you are going to come with me!" He laughed at his own joke, as he moved Lucas's arm up and grabbed one of Arbalest's ankles. There wasn't enough strength to pull sharply; but, there was enough to hold on.

Sousuke stopped cutting, cursing at the top of his lungs. One eye on a view screen, he saw the last intact strand unravelling under the weight load of two Arm Slaves. For a moment, he thought about doing the 'fox caught in a trap' thing. Foxes often bite their own leg off to escape. He thought quickly, as he was wont to do. "Al. Vent all hydraulic fluid out of the left knee joint. Full force."

"Roger," the A.I. replied, following the command. Hose couplings were rerouted.

Relax, don't do it
When you want to go to it
Relax, don't do it
When you want to come
Relax, don't do it

Slippery fluid ran down Arbalest's leg, in a more liquid state than usual due to a fluid injected into the mix on extrusion. The fluid covered the orange gripping hand, and ran between and beneath its fingers. When the final connection between the severed ends of the cable gave way, that hand lost its grip.

Sousuke shut down the audio connection. He didn't need to hear anything that came next. The song was still playing in his cockpit, however.

When you want to sock it to it
Relax, don't do it
When you want to come
Ah, ah, ah…

"Goo-oo-o!" Sousuke sang the next word as 'Go' rather than the true word, 'Come,' which was a song euphemism for 'cum.' He was amused by his own quip, and wondered if he was developing a sense of humor, or if that ditty was some kind of Kaname contribution. In any case, that was far too much time spent on levity. He had to focus on maintaining a grip. He had no idea how long the remaining cable was, or how far away they were from their final resting point.

"You changed words," Al took note. "Were you trying to be clever?"

Sousuke kept silent. Now was not a good time for the A.I. to go off the deep end. He did not shout. People often relax their grip when someone shouts. But, he was in ultimate control, not the computer.

"You sounded more like a laxative commercial," Al remarked. The A.I. was making an observation, not a joke. But what other computer on the planet would possibly make that observation?

Sousuke had to clamp his mouth shut. But, all reactions were soon forgotten. He felt a stronger swaying motion. And, something else felt amiss.

"Upward movement has ceased," the A.I. reported. "I would suspect that whatever mechanism was winding in the cable has ceased operation. Perhaps because a signal from the other Arm Slave has now ceased.

Sousuke bit back a vile oath. He had been worried enough about holding on. Now, he would be forced to do a hand-over-hand climb of the cable, with each grip and release movement being fraught with potential peril.

He began the dangerous ascent.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

SOARING ABOVE THE NANPO ISLANDS

M9 Arm Slaves… and the ARX-7… had hands that could perform many human-like tasks.

They were not designed, however, to easily grip a relatively small diameter length of slick cold metal. Each movement. Each grip. Each release. Everything had to be done properly and completely. Even then there was a sizeable chance of slippage, if not outright grip failure.

Arbalest climbed higher.

"Just like Jack and the beanstalk," Sousuke said. No, that little shit had it easier than he did, even though his journey would be far shorter than forty miles. Jack had something to climb up on securely, like a big leafy ladder.

"Are you speaking of the story that began as 'The Story of Jack Spriggins and the Enchanted Bean' in 1734," Al asked. "And later as Benjamin Tabart's moralized 'The History of Jack and the Bean-Stalk' in 1807?"

The A.S. continued its climbing action.

"Affirmative," Sousuke said. "Although I suspect the original story started long before that, and has appeared in many works afterwards." He tried to remember some exact phrasing. "I almost expect to hear a deep voice say:

Fee-fi-fo-fum!
I smell the blood of an A.S. man:
Be he alive, or be he dead,
I'll grind his bones to make my bread."

"Gogmagog likely does not exist," the A.I. replied. That was the name of the giant in the Jack Spriggans version. "Neither should Blunderbore." That was another of the rare names given the giant, in this case from the 18th-century tale 'Jack the Giant Killer.' After a slight pause, it added: "There is no evidence that any anthropomorphic giants exist."

The ARX-7 slipped down a half of a length, but stuck tight after that.

"I guess you haven't looked in a mirror, lately." Sousuke said. He pictured for a moment, he and Arbalest showing up in a sequel to 'A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court.'

"I am big," Al admitted. "But I have no treasure. I have no bags of gold. No goose that lays golden eggs. And no magic harp that plays by itself."

"True," Sousuke said. "But… when it works… you have something far better." A moment later, after pulling the ARX-7 up another length, he said: "The Lambda Driver." How he wished that the temperamental thing would right itself. Sure, if he fell, it couldn't form a parachute or a giant pogo stick, but it might well prove useful when he reached his destination.

With growing confidence, Sousuke increased the speed of the climb bit by bit.

"I-" Sousuke felt the A.S. shudder. The cable swung strongly to one side, buffeted by unseen forces soon thereafter. The reason was quite clear. Two F-15Js in Japanese markings flew past quickly, banking to avoid the cable. "This is really bad-"

"I can increase grip strength more," Al said. "But the action may rebound later, with muscle fiber fatigue. Should I proceed?"

"Yes!" Sousuke felt as if the shock wave was going to pull him loose. "Do it!"

The com-set sounded, and a message came through. The message originated at a computer within Captain Testarossa's cabin.

"Sousuke," it was Tessa's voice. "I've stepped away from the bridge briefly, to fill in Clouseau and the others on our status. We have been seeing the feed from Arbalest. There is something I need to say-" She seemed reticent. Her voice got quiet. "If-"

Sousuke thought about disconnecting the feed, but didn't want to spare even the slightest bit of attention.

"She just wants to say that she loves you," Melissa said, wryly. "She might not have another chance." In the background, Kurz's voice could be heard grumping 'That's' what I wanted to say.'

"Hey! Sousuke!" Kurz spoke out loud this time. "Do you know that swinging like that, you probably look just like soap on a rope!"

*WAM* *BAM*

"I apologize, Captain." That was Clouseau. He had planted Mao's and Weber's faces hard into Tessa's desk. He was one of the few men with the courage to do that to the Sergeant Major. "Please continue."

"I'm going to have to close the channel," Sousuke said between clenched teeth, trying to climb again, while the cable still swayed precariously. "I need my full focus here."

"Wait! Sergeant!" Tessa raised her voice. "If you fall over water, the impact will still kill you, if the distance is great. If that happens…" She sucked in her breath and let it out in a rush. "...You need to set the A.S. to self-destruct before you hit. There are nations with deep water salvage capabilities." By that she meant the U.S. primarily. "Amalgam may be able to retrieve important data, if they can access Arbalest with a Plan-0601 Leviathan." That type of sleek Arm Slave was about the size of a fighter jet and could move much quicker than Da Danaan while submerged.

"Understood," Sousuke said. He then killed the line. He continued the ascent, with painstaking precision and perseverance. "Al," he called out. "Our position?" When he was given the grid coordinates, he sighed. "Good. As long as we are not heading towards an inhabited area, we have more options. If we cannot assume control of the craft above us, then we will have to bring it down." That would be best done over open waters for all of the obvious reasons. "If there is an A.I., perhaps you can override it." If there was some way to make connections.

A strange distortion was visible now. It almost looked like there was an enormous mirror layer, where the sky reflected back upon itself.

"That would be ECS," Sousuke observed. "We're getting close." It was odd. It looked like the end of the cable was just sitting there out in the middle of nowhere. "There must be other tricks, if Mithril cannot track it." Black Technology at work again, no doubt.

"Sergeant, is your focus good enough now for a question?" Al asked.

"A quick one," Sousuke answered. He had thought about saying 'no.' Sometimes preventive medicine is better than a remedy after the fact.

"Would you sacrifice yourself to save me?" The A.I.'s question must have been prompted by Tessa's order.

"Negative," Sousuke answered easily.

"But you would expect me to sacrifice myself for you?" Al asked.

"Definitely," Sousuke replied. He had managed to pilot Arbalest up the rope far enough to begin to make something out. He could see large structures to either side that looked like those things on the front of a manta ray. Their inner surface had large machines that could be part crane and part conveyer belt. No doubt they were designed for capture and release of an Arm Slave. Centered between them, held by foldable extensions, was a relatively small clamping device that clamped the balloon cable, just below the level of the fluttering and flopping balloon.

"I see," Al said. That and nothing more.

"Are you thinking 'But that's not fair', or something like that?" Sousuke queried. "We will not be distracted by philosophy. Here is the one fact you need to consider. You can be repaired and given a new body. I cannot." He quickly added. "I am not talking about mind transfer." He certainly hoped he could be given another body… his own!

"Understood," Al replied.

"We are at the top now," Sousuke noted. "Those devices have not moved. They do not recognize us as 'self,' I suppose." That fact concerned him. What if the craft decided to let the clasp unlock, and drop him and the ARX-7 to their doom? "It does us no good to stay here. We cannot reach out and grab anything. Search all targets within reach, and determine the best latch point for the wire gun cable."

This would be safer than trying to move along the thin arms supporting the clasping device.

"Searching," Al replied. "The front of the craft is smooth and therefore nonviable."

Sousuke used the cameras to look over the front of the aircraft. It curved slightly from side to side, and more so from top to bottom. There were faint lines, suggesting that the forward section could open clamshell style, almost like a giant mouth. He swallowed hard, and shook off his superstitious feeling.

"There are three points of interest on each flanking structure," Al noted, displaying the prongs on a diagram, Red 'x's marked exposed bars and cylinders that had relatively narrow girth. "These are closest to the craft." Two of the 'x's were now flashing green. "I propose we fire on the one on the left. The angle is best for our remaining wire gun."

"I agree," Sousuke said. "Support my aiming." He sighted, and then fired. The cable tip struck the desired target.

"Testing." All directed Arbalest's body to tug slightly on the cable. "Secure."

"Here we go!" Sousuke thought about the 'Eiger Sanction'. That movie was a 1975 American thriller film directed by and starring Clint Eastwood. The story was about an art history professor, mountain climber and former assassin once employed by a secret United States government agency, who is blackmailed into returning to his deadly profession and do one more 'sanction', a euphemism for killing. He agrees to join an international climbing team in Switzerland planning an ascent of the Eiger's north face in order to complete the sanction to avenge the murder of an old friend.

The climbing scenes in the move were still unrivaled.

Arbalest was directly below one prong, suspended by the cable. Sousuke ordered Al to retract the wire gun's cable. The A.I. did so. Ascent was slow, but steady. After that, it was a matter of pulling the ARX-7 up, and then navigating its way across a landscape of gigantic machine parts until they reached the front of the aircraft. He did that. Traversing those obstacles had been tricky enough. Now, he faced another crux point.

"We need to try this," Sousuke told the computer. He needed to wrap the wire gun cable around the anti-armor dagger. That accomplished, he chipped at the strong metal of the aircraft until he put the knife in like a piton. Instead of suspending himself from that piton, he jumped upward, landing on the knife. It jerked, and nearly slid out. It held. Barely. "Now… I need to find purchase…."

Near the front of the craft… one to either side… were huge dome-like structures, with interlocking hexagons forming the surface. They looked for all the world like giant insect eyes. He felt like a small beetle staring up at a praying mantis. He surmised that the domes were coverings for enormous active electronically scanned arrays at the very least, and quite likely something much further advanced. Finding a strong handhold, he jerked on the cable repeatedly, until he could reel the dagger back in.

The craft was visible only for a small radius around whatever place he touched it. The metal surface surrounding the radar dome was smooth and metallic. Intricate grooves like the narrowest Incan diagrams had been cut into that surface, and were filled with a semi-solid polymer. Viewed at a sharp angle, the surface seemed covered by a faintly visible haze, possibly a charged ion barrier.

All of that added up to advanced stealth technology.

"Mithril won't be able to see this," Sousuke mused. "There will be no way to pinpoint it and no way to acquire target reliable missile lock." Unless he could somehow break stealth, the only way to take down the craft would be damage to outside structures necessary for flight, or destruction of key inside components.

The young pilot ran Arbalest's hand over the surface. It was very slick. There was little friction. That finding was problematic. He had only one choice. Crawling or any attempt at walking would likely lead to the ARX-7 sliding off of the craft. He would have to move slowly along, using the dagger to gain some purchase, while keeping all other movements to a minimum. The process was tedious, but he was good at tedious tasks.

Slowly they crept along.

Sousuke began sweating heavily after a while. The task was taking some toll on him, even as seasoned and somber as he was. Part of that was a sense of dread, a burning tingle of anticipation in the root of his stomach. He kept searching the parts of the craft that he could see, hoping that he would not gain a glimpse of any kind of CIWS system or something akin to a rolling airframe missile launcher. A CIWS like the iconic American Phalanx… the Dutch Goalkeeper, using the same gun as the A10 attack jet… or the Russian Kashtan with dual 50mm rotary cannons and 9M311 missiles… would spell quick and certain doom for him and his Arm Slave. Same for anything like the small anti-missile and anti-aircraft laser turrets that were on the drawing board for fighter jets.

"Those would defeat stealth," he said, letting out a sigh of relief, only to feel the stress return when he admitted that they could be housed in pods that moved up only when necessary. "Why?" Something odd occurred, and he couldn't explain why. Possibly due to the overall shape of the craft, the ECS field was now situated a few meters above his head. He could now see, from that vantage point at least, the entirely of the vehicle, at least the uppermost areas. "It's almost like being in the 'Avengers' movie." If anything, the craft they were crawling on was larger than the Helicarriers in those movies. "Or 'Land of the Giants'." He was probably one of the few people on earth who still remembered that 1960s sci-fi TV series. Clouseau had clued him into that one.

He looked for structures that he could damage, like flaps and the like. There were none. How could they fly the aircraft, then? Subtle surface structures gave sufficient clues. Subtle was a relative term, since the features were large compared to Arbalest, and getting too close to one would provide another way to be blown off of their perch.

The aircraft had no tail or tails. It must use a blown air system. Sousuke had read about those; but, his reference material dealt with small UAVs, not anything the size of this beast. Air from the hidden engines was likely blown over the trailing edges of the wings to provide control. Also, the presence of symmetrically places vents suggested fluidic thrust vectoring, or the use of blown air to deflect the trailing exhaust, aiding in the craft's change in direction.

"If we still had Lambda Driver function, I might be able to disrupt those." Sousuke said aloud.

"If wishes were horses then beggars would ride," Al said, quoting an old Scottish nursery rhyme. "If turnips were swords I'd have one by my side." He didn't complete the saying by adding 'If 'ifs' and 'ands' were pots and pans… there would be no need for tinker's hands!'

"If there is too much useless noise-" Sousuke snarled. "Someone might end up in a garbage truck instead of a Trans Am." He added: "as the A.I., or in the compacting compartment."

After slowly crawling across the surface for a few minutes more, Sousuke fell upon the best of good fortunes. The front viewscreen, on high magnification, identified a very slight line that he could trace into an immense rectangular shape. Was it some kind of door? Could he pry it open? Or free it up with the monomolecular cutter? He tried the latter, but the vibrations threatened to shake him free of his anchoring dagger, and the teeth made little headway into the perceived gap. He would need to use his 'piton' as a tool. That was the highest risk option of all, since it took away his anchor. But, he had no horse, so to speak.

So, he would have to do what was necessary.

For some unknown reason, the result came quickly, with little effort. The large panel lifted straight up, supported by large metal poles. Those poles were embedded in a polymer platform base, one that held a pair of aircraft… or, given the appearance of the darkened canopies… drones. He recognized the lines. The design was based on the Russian Mig 41.

"Well-" For a moment, Sousuke looked at the aircraft as a possible way off of the giant craft. But, that was neither here nor there. He had a job to do. And, if the structure was an elevator, and he could ride it inside, he would need to push the drones off. As soon as he directed Arbalest to do that, the aircraft slowly slid along the surface, and began heading for the distant edges of the mother ship. No sooner had the last plane's weight left the elevator, it began to lower. "Go!" He sprawled forward, scooting the ARX-7 onto the lift. There was room to kneel, but not to stand.

When the elevator was situated inside the craft again, Sousuke looked around in awe. He was in the belly of the beast, feeling like a modern-day Jonah. He scooted Arbalest off of the platform, and then turned it about, to scope out the cavernous interior.

Sosuiue felt like a kid in a candy store.

Nearest to him, as he swiveled the A.S., was a lengthy wall full of various weaponry, from piutols and SMGs, to rifles, anti-material guns, and ATGMs. If only he could stuff the lot of them in his pockets, along with those grenades, mines, and small automatic gun turrets! He really could use Felix the Cat's bag, now! There was all manner of body armor, too, along with camouflage gear and night vision equipment.

He settled for a MP-443 Grach 9x19mm pistol and AK-15 7.62x39mm assault rifle. He put a GM-94 multi-shot grenade launcher back, deciding that it might not be wise to use it in a confined space, no matter how voluminous that space might be.

He was definitely not going to touch the Shmel!

"Open front cover," Sousuke said. He needed to scout the place on foot. He jokingly looked around for a tour guide. Naturally finding none, he checked the ceiling to se if there were locator panels, like at an airport or a supermarket. There were none. But, there were color-coded strips at the edge of various pillars and floor panels. The area that he and Arbalest inhabited was red, and seemed to include offensive weaponry, given the presence of two crouched Venoms, six type 89 Armored Personnel Carriers, and four Russian Sprut-SDM1 125 mm light-tanks. Seeing a yellow area further towards the front of the aircraft, he headed in that direction.

"Troop area," he figured. There were a number of identical set-ups spread about that section. Each one had numerous seats with clamshell type seat restraints. There were enough to seat a couple of platoons, at least. There were also stacks of tightly packed bunks, a large lavatory, and a small kitchen area, replete with walk-in refrigerators, large wash sinks, and lengthy fold-up aluminum tables. There was even a reclining chair next to a barber's pole! He found clothes lockers, too. Seeing small doors leading out from the aircraft, he wondered if there were parachutes nearby. He searched, finding none,

"Those-" Sousuke said to himself. Strapped to a number of work benches, he saw partly completed Groupies. Not far from them, there was a row of large transparent spherical enclosures, likely drop pods. Each had a giant eyelet on top, no doubt the attachment point for parachutes. He found those chutes, but they too were only partly assembled. No help getting safely to the ground, there. Not for him, nor for the ARX-7. "Maybe-" He had found a number of modernized jet-packs. But, they were not fueled.

Next he moved from the yellow area into the green. The area ended in a narrow wall, with a door. Likely the aircraft's bridge. The large area outside of that door was filled with lengthy banks of computers, electronic defense equipment, and other advanced electronics. All were key-coded, requiring passwords.

Nothing of value there.

There were no secret plan books accidentally left out by some errant crew member, a trope seen in plenty of movies, television shows, manga, and anime.

"Knock knock!" Sousuke said quietly, trying a button on a wall panel. The thick metal barrier slid open. He rushed into the room, ready to fire. The cockpit did not have windows. Rather it had huge viewscreens, showing the outside world. Various small cut-out screens were not currently lit up. There were no inhabitants. The control panel was covered, and a number of chairs were folded to the floor. The craft was either controlled by a preprogrammed A.I., a remote operator, or both in tandem or in sequence. "Shit!"

He saw curving stairways going down, flanking the large console. Gun up, he silently descended, finding a large separate semicircular cargo bay area. This must be where the orange A.S. had been stored. The ammunition racks corresponded to the Gatling gun and to other various hand-held weapons that the decedent had chosen to leave behind, in favor of his high technology toys.

In any case, there were no people down there either.

If there was a human involved, he or she would have noticed his presence, if internal cameras were on, or if there was a security system that signaled the unlikely event of an intrusion. Would there be an automated hunter-killer sent after him? An odorless invisible gas? A skeleton crew, wakened from their secure safe rooms? Perhaps oxygen supplies might be shut off, or the percent O2 increased to a level that would leave him unconscious.

"If there is only an A.I., what contingency plans might there be?" Sousuke wondered if the craft might turn around and perform some type of retaliatory strike, either again Mithril targets, or other targets that offered Amalgam potential problems in the future. "Did Mr. Magnesium send instructions before he died? Before he sent the balloon aloft? Or before he had even launched form the front prong area?"

Questions.

There were so many questions.

But, there was one answer. He needed to bring this bitch down. As soon as possible. By any available means. He trotted back to the red area, to do more exploring.

At one point, he ducked behind a large pillar, and jumped out the other side, rifle up. His finger tightened on the trigger. He almost fired. The humanoid forms he saw, dressed like soldiers, were fighting dummies at the edge of a large gym-type mat. It was a training and exercise area, one for use with weapons. There were large bulletproof panels that could be rolled into place to cordon off fire zones.

Dabbing at his forehead with one sleeve end, he moved towards the serious stuff. The Venoms had key-pad security consoles that he could not crack in a lifetime of attempts. There was a PHL03 – 300 mm rocket artillery piece, a Chinese copy of the Russian BM-30 Smerch, with twelve 300mm rockets. That would have done a lot of havoc, if he could have remotely triggered it before jumping ship. But, there was another fucking key-pad.

"Hah!" There were a number of towed artillery pieces. A sextet of 2A18 D-30 122mm howitzers. A pair of 2A29 MT-12 Rapira 100mm anti-tank guns. Four M56s, the Yugoslavian version of the American 105 mm M101A1 howitzer. "I just need to find the ammunition." He noted that each piece of equipment throughout that vast cargo area sat on an air-dropable pallet. That made sense. A craft this size could not land on any runway that he knew of. And, the overall shape of the craft did not lend itself to a low-altitude parachute-extraction system,,, LAPES… a tactical military airlift delivery method where a fixed-wing cargo aircraft can deposit supplies in situations in which landing is not an option, in an area that is too small to accurately parachute supplies from a high altitude. There were a great number of empty pallets. What was this aircraft for, when it was fully loaded? What might Amalgam have up its sleeve?

Unfortunately, none of the pallets were prepped for drop. There were no attached parachutes.

He walked between a pair of Mig 41 drones, looking down at the floor. Based on the markings, it looked like there had been at least twelve other drones housed in the area. Small amounts of fuel were still pooled in some of the marked areas, suggesting that a number of the drones had been launched recently, probably by means of the elevator he rode down.

If there were drones, then there would have to be munitions for them. Same for the quartet of Mil Mi-28s, Russian all-weather anti-armor attack helicopters, NATO reporting name 'Havoc.'

He did find a cargo manifesto taped to one pillar. The loading had been done in small increments. The final load was mind-boggling. About the only thing missing from the load list was a Behemoth!

Sousuke eyeballed the vast area surrounding the remaining aircraft and around the armored vehicles and artillery pieces. There were a number of large rectangular containers, four times the length and width of the trailers of eighteen wheelers, fronted by a large metal door with a crank release wheel. If he was a betting man, he would wager that those were weapons storage bins. When he reached one, spun the wheel, and pulled open the heavy door, he smiled. He looked over at Arbalest and felt silly, after giving Al a thumbs up. He was relatively close to the A.S., which meant that he could jump back onboard and attempt to survive any damage he could do, hopefully bringing the craft down to a safe jumping height.

Maybe he could save himself and the ARX-7, too.

There were neither dollies nor lifts inside the container, nor even a simple pulley set. There was no way for him to gather up and move the ammunition for the various cannons. So close, and yet so far! He would have to cause some kind of explosion in this container. Perhaps he could rig up an IED. If he could set off a chain reaction, he might be able to create a structural breach, and perhaps a smoke trail for some outside combatants to trace. He folded down a number of brackets that held the heavy munitions in place. He then began making certain that every round he could reach was made live.

Next, he unscrewed the tips of a couple of shells. Then he ran out to scrounge lengths of wire, ready-made timing devices, and batteries..

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

SOMEWHERE IN SWITZERLAND

At a marvelous antique desk, a scion of its type, carved throughout the lifetime of a long dead craftsman, two computer screens flashed on and off.

One displayed a message sent from an outside human source, written in clandestine code with an added set of numbers. The other depicted a large symbol, which when clicked on would give access to a mechanical message.

A fresh china cup and pot of tea on a burner sat near a keyboard. An empty plate rested near a cloth covered basket of fresh scones and exquisite jars of jams and jellies. An unopened bottle of wine chilled in a bucket, now half filled with water and ice, after having started out with ice alone.

The technician had yet to return from Clinique La Prairie. The staff was prepared for anything, even though they didn't expect to see him for a goodly while.

Had he been there, and had he clicked on the screen with the symbol… which showed a backwards progression of numbers… he would have realized that the Chazaqiel had switched over to autonomous action, and would follow whatever protocols Mr. Magnesium had installed, including those to be implemented in the event that Lucas II and its pilot were destroyed, and should no separate command from Mr. Magnesium abort the previous order

If instead, the technician had been there to open the coded message, which had been sent by the Whispered A.S. pilot at some point prior to his demise, he would have been directed by that provided code to a message secreted away on a server he had no previous access to. That message would have chilled him to the bone, forcing him to choose between the lesser of two enormous Evils.

Choice one: he could use a supplied password to reprogram the humongous RPV, and turn on the Apocalypse routine, which had to be done real-time by a human, and not by some kind of bot. That would have the RPV set its nuclear engines to critical overload, making each a low-yield nuclear bomb-equivalent after about twenty minutes of uninterrupted energetic reactions.. Before the craft would purposefully crash into the downtown of the nearest nation's Capitol city, it would rain ruin on any city it flew over on its suicide mission. He would have a set amount of time to complete that task.

Choice two: do nothing. When the countdown ended, the A.I. that was currently directing the RPV would fly it to designated targets, and Chazaqiel would drop its bomb load on the estates and factories belonging to Mr. Magnesium's family. Following that, agents would inform the Swiss government of the technician's illegal activities, and assassins would murder his wife and children.

The counter on the icon screen was below one minute, now.

60… 59… 58… 57… 56… 55…54… 53… 52… 51… 50…

As fortune would have it, the technician walked into the office, looking for the identification he needed to be admitted to the spa. He had absentmindedly forgotten it. Picking it up off of a small curio, he almost walked back out of the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something flashing.

42… 41… 40… 39… 38… 37… 36… 35… 34… 33… 32…

He opened Magnesium's message first. He turned pale, as the blood left his face. He began trembling all over. He had no idea how Colonel Paul W. Tibbets and Major Thomas Ferebee might have felt, or Major Charles W. Sweeney and Captain Kermit Beahan might have felt, but they had been soldiers. The former two had been pilot and bombadier aboard Enola Gay, the B-29 Superfortress that had bombed Hiroshima. The latter two had served similar roles aboard Bockscar, which had bombed Nagasaki. He tried to pour a cup of tea, but spilled tea everywhere but inside the cup.

25… 24… 23… 22… 21… 20… 19… 18… 17… 16… 15…

He pictured his wife's face. He had flashbacks to the birth of each of his beloved daughters. He didn't know for sure if his loved ones would be safe if he chose to facilitate an atomic holocaust. The ethical pressure he felt left him breathless.

This was all as bad as the ending of the Henry Fonda film, 'Fail Safe'.

In that movie, the U.S. Air Force's early warning radar indicated that an unidentified aircraft had intruded into American airspace. Shortly after, the 'intruder' was identified as an off-course civilian airliner and the alert was cancelled; but, a computer error caused one American bomber group to receive orders for an attack on Moscow. Attempts to rescind that order failed because a new Soviet countermeasure jammed American radio communications. With his orders apparently confirmed, Colonel Jack Grady, the US bomber group's commander, ordered them to continue to their target. The President of the United States and his advisers attempted to recall the bombers or shoot them down. Communications were opened with the Soviet chairman in which mistakes on both sides were acknowledged. The jamming ceased, but the crew followed their training, dismissing the counter-orders they receive as a Soviet ruse. The President struggled to find a resolution that would stop the Soviet Union from counter-attacking; if he failed, a nuclear holocaust would be unavoidable. He offers to sacrifice an American target to appease the Soviets and he ordered an American bomber towards New York City.

The President's advisers in the Pentagon discovered that in doing so, the President would be sacrificing the First Lady, who is visiting New York City. A single American bomber reached Moscow and destroyed it. The President then ordered General Black, whose wife and children live in New York, to make a corresponding nuclear attack on New York, using the Empire State Building as ground zero. After releasing the bombs, Black killed himself. The last moments of the film show images of people in New York going about their daily lives, unaware of the coming disaster.

"What to do? What to do." The technician placed his face in his hands. Those men in the movie were so heroic, faced with such devastating choices. "I'm no hero," he said, sighing.

10… 9… 8… 7…

"God forgive me." The technician typed in a long string of numbers given to him in the email. His finger hovered over the send button.

4…3…

The man pushed the button. He may have condemned millions to death, great loss, or future disease, to possibly save the ones that he loved.

He gave consideration to the handgun he kept in the locked top desk drawer.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

FLYING OVER THE FEDERATED STATES OF MICRONESIA

Receiving the message, the Chazaqiel swung into a sharp turn and greatly picked up speed.

"What the Hell!" Sousuke was thrown hard against one munitions rack. That hurt! But, that was by far the least of his problems.

No longer constrained in their cradles, the munitions that he had free-up rocked back and forth, and then came rolling up and out of their resting sites. They bounced this way and that, some rolling along the floor, and others ricocheting in every which direction. Lucky for Sousuke, none exploded.

"I-" Sousuke did his best impression of the characters in the 'Dodgeball' flick. He was struck hard by one howitzer shell, and barely missed being brained and knee-capped by two others. The ones on the floor, were hampering his mobility, and more shells were rocking higher up. "Phewww-ww-w…." he let out a long sigh, when the aircraft leveled out. "That was a close one."

He froze.

One of the rounds had a delayed fuse. The sound that the nosepiece was making meant that the live round was on a countdown to detonation.

"Pal!" Sousuke called out. "Aim the wire gun at my position. Fire when ready!" Claxons sounded. Yellow rotating lights had been activated. A mechanical voice came over the speaker:

"Warning, decompressive event pending." That message repeated, as huge clamps holding the munitions compartment released, as the entire enclosure prepared to drop out from the RPV. Somehow the A.I. had sensed the danger, and was going to send the explosion outside.

Sousuke leaned to one side when the cable fired into the compartment, grapping hold of it after impact. "Retrieve it now!" As he was being pulled towards the ARX-7, the container dropped. He barely missed having both legs cut off at the ankles as he passed through the opened door in the nick of time.

Two huge bay doors on either flank of the aircraft opened as part of the emergency protocol, preventing a pressure fluctuation that might damage the aircraft and other equipment. Sousuke was temporarily pulled towards one opening until the wire gun cable was snug and secure. For a moment, the young soldier had caught sight of a gigantic recessed engine. Its size was nearly unimaginable.

"Sergeant, I have plotted our new course." Al reported. "We are headed back towards Tokyo."

Sousuke jumped back inside of Arbalest, and had it crawling across the red-rimmed floor area. He had a crazy idea. Pushing smaller equipment out of the way, he maneuvered behind one Mig 41 drone and pushed it towards one of the bay doors, both of which were still open. "Push the drone out towards the engine inlet." He and his machine did just that. The falling jet careened into the rotating blades and was shredded into small fragments, without causing any noticeable damage to the engine. "Dammit!"

Next!

He dismounted again, careful not to be sucked outside of the craft. He ran and checked other containers, to see if there was anything useful inside, and to see if the internal arrangement might allow Arbalest to reach a hand inside and grab hold of the contents. One structure held S-25 Russian air-to-ground rockets; Vympel R-73 short-range air-to-air missile; Kh-59 Ovod TV-guided ant-ship cruise missiles; and Vympel NPO R-77 medium range missiles. Those probably wouldn't get the job done. He hit pay dirt in the next enclosure. Not only were there FAB-500 low-drag, general purpose, air-dropped bombs with a 500-kilogram high-explosive warheads and ZAB-500 incendiary bombs, but there was also an extremely long preloaded bomb train attached to a sturdy looking mag-lev tractor.

"Bingo!" Sousuke jumped on the tractor and smiled seeing the key in the ignition. He fired the vehicle it up, and watched an eerie green light shine forth from beneath the tractor and from under its weighty cargo-laden trailer. He jumped off and took a few minutes to arm every bomb that he could reach. Hopping back on, he pushed a control lever to 'F,' and began moving his vehicle towards the area in front of his Arm Slave. It was at that very moment, his floppy ears flapping like narrow flags in the wind, that he realized he was still clad in the bunny costume! How had he ignored that until now! "That's okay" he said, incredibly embarrassed, swearing that he would never tell this story to anyone. "The Easter Bunny has some nice eggs for all of the good Amalgam boys and girls."

"I will not repeat my assertion that this will be more like an Easter egg fight than an Easter egg hunt," Al stated, when told of his pilot's intentions.

"Thank you for that," Sousuke drawled. "Let's give it a go!" back in the pilot seat, he used Arbalest's hand to overturn the egg cart, so to speak. Bombs rolled this way and that across the floor, which thankfully was fairly level now. He began grabbing bombs and tossing them out the opening. "Here's some eggs for you." He could reach the nearest engine. He could only partly see the next staggered one. The third and fourth engines on that side were not visible from that vantage point. That was fine. He wouldn't be able to bring the craft down. "Here's some eggs for you and you and you." But, by damaging that nearest engine, he could leave a trail of flaming Easter treats for the happy children aboard the TDD-1.

Many of the bombs burst against the cowling, or at the casing just outside of the rotor. Others were spun around like balls in a roulette wheel, before being thrown out unexploded, or staying flat, held down by centrifugal force. But, there were some detonations on target.

*boom*

That explosion was hard to hear over the howling wind. But the flash of orange was easy to see.

*boom* *boom* *boom*

The aircraft didn't shudder one iota. Its mass was far too great. But, the bombs were doing some work. Pieces of the great metal vanes were spinning around with unexploded bombs now.

It was a start.

"Da Danaan, this is Sagara. Come in." He needed to let Tessa and Commander Mardukas know what was going on. They could notify any other necessary Mithril sea-craft or airborne asset as necessary, or even make political calls to American personnel in the know. "Da Danaan, this is Sergenat Sousuke Sagara, please come in."

*boom* *boom* *boom*

"Da Danaan here," a com-operator said. Immediately thereafter, the headset was passed to Tessa. She listened to Sousuke's abbreviated report, frightened by her intuition. That RPV must be brought down as quickly as possible, at whatever price necessary. Price in munitions… in equipment… and in personnel.

"I hope to leave a trail of bread crumbs for one of your birds to follow, Captain." Sousuke said. "If I fail in my attempts, I suggest that you use Arbalest's locator beacon as a target signal."

*boom*

"That's already being done, Sergeant" Mardukas said matter of factly. "But, the target lock will be poor and the delivery imprecise. I trust you be successful in your endeavor. Our current cruise missile load has optical ports in the nose cones that allow human steering from launch consoles. Give us that trail." He paused. It was bad luck, but he felt it proper just the same. "You will be in all of our prayers, either way."

He did not expect the younger man to return.

"We will launch every missile that we have," Tessa told Sousuke. "There is at least one American submarine in the area that will follow suit if we can reach them, unbeknownst to their admiralty." Most U.S. subs were their hunters, not their allies. "Mithril container ships will replenish them before they return to their home port. Sousuke… I want…."

*boom* *boom* *boom* *boom* *boom*

"It's okay… Tessa." Sousuke didn't care if Mardukas was listening. "This comes with the territory.' After pausing, he asked her to deliver a message to Kaname. He then signed off, without further communication.

Al reported that cruise missiles were now being launched as quickly as possible from the TDD-1. He gave an estimated time of arrival for the first grouping. On one view screen, he showed the RPV's current location as it related to the submarine and the Japanese shoreline. "Sergeant, F-35s have been directed thisway." Those were a hopeful measure actually, since their ordinance could do next to no damage to the Beast. If by miracle he made it ashore, one jet could take him back to the hospital, whose helideck had been built to withstand the heat output of a VTOL aircraft. "A transport helicopter, as well." That was an even bigger long-shot. It would be for retrieval of Arbalest, if it still survived.

"Right," Sousuke remarked. "Better to cover for every possible contingency."

He continued tossing bombs until that load was almost done. If he ran out, he would need to explore more containers, if there was time.

*boom* *boom* *boom* *b-l-a-m*

w-o-n-k s-c-h-u-p s-c-h-u-p s-c-h-u-p

gronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglwhamwhamwham

"Give me visuals, pal!" Sousuke moved the A.S. forward some to gain a better view. "Yes!" The engine was on fire now, its innards blazing away like an inferno. "We'll toss everything we have!" He kept throwing the remaining bombs, and even threw in the tractor to boot.

Claxons sounded again. Even more lights spun than before. The same voice was heard over the speakers:

"Engines will go supercritical in five minutes. Evacuate the craft now. "Engines will go supercritical in five minutes. Evacuate the craft now. "Engines will go supercritical in five minutes. Evacuate the craft now. "Engines will go supercritical in five minutes. Evacuate the craft now." The message kept repeating.

"What does that mean, Al?" Sousuke asked.

"I don't know, Sergeant." The A.I. replied.

"That-" Sousuke saw a symbol flashing on a number of craft's wall panels, and on huge flat-screen monitors spread throughout the aircraft interior. It was an easily recognizable Hazard symbol. It was a trefoil with a central circle of radius R, an internal radius of 1.5R and an external radius of 5R for the blades, which were separated from each other by 60 degrees. "-That's the symbol for Ionizing Radiation."

"I suspect that the engines are nuclear powered," the A.I. stated. "Using radioactive fuel."

With engines like that, and a huge fuel reserve, the craft could circle the globe numerous times before it needed to be refueled or retired, or even to land, for that matter.

"Then did we-" Sousuke felt as if someone dropped a bucket of ice water on his head and back. Had he caused this situation, by setting the engine on fire? Was the engine about to cause a nuclear explosion, because of his meddling? That would make his early indiscretions that day look like a kiss on the cheek. No, kisses on 9.273 million cheeks.

That was the population of Tokyo.

Hopefully the missiles would strike… the craft would fall into the sea… and the ocean would diffuse the explosion, or halt it altogether. Did it matter, his trying to think up some way to survive, if everything with eyesight would be awash in nuclear fire?

"I expect the missiles to arrive with one or two minutes to spare," the A.I. reported. "Hits to the engines on an aircraft this size… or sufficient disruption to its unique airflow… should bring it down."

"We are changing altitude," Sousuke noticed. They had passed through the cloud layer. He could see approaching land outside of the bay door now. "Either to provide more clutter for missile optics," he guessed. "Or, to cause explosion upon its impact." Thirty seconds later, they were not that far above the ocean. "Move!" He wished the ARX-7 could run; but, the best it could do was crawl.

They might make the opening before Tomahawk impact!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

APPROACHING KANEGAWA PREFECTURE

Chazaqiel flew swiftly, following the contour of the earth.

Sousuke remembered something. He would have to do it. He knew precisely how to proceed.

"Al, set self-destruct timer at ten minutes," Sousuke said. "Start, now!" Hopefully this precaution would prove unneccesary.

"Starting," Al said without commentary. The countdown showed on the cockpit HUD.

"Do not cease countdown without my order," Sousuke added. He would do just that, should their outcome warrant cancellation. Hopefully impact would not knock him unconscious, or damage the A.I. in some way that prevented shutdown. "Here we go!" He was about to step the A.S. off of the craft. His angle of descent should keep him from falling anywhere near the burning maw of the ruined engine.

B-O-O-O-O-M

Arbalest was forced to slide backwards. While the explosion of a single cruise missile was not enough to severely damage Chazaqiel, its placement had been enough to cause it to tilt slightly. Sousuke, retraced his steps, ready to try again. They were very close to the mainland, now. Not only might they survive the fall, they may end up in shallow water. If they could jump soon. If not, they would be over land.

B-O-O-O-O-M B-O-O-O-O-M B-O-O-O-O-M

"I am overjoyed that there is mission success," Sousuke said. "But couldn't it have waited a few seconds more?!"

There was indeed some level of success. Three successive strikes had severely warped the airflow dynamics, causing the craft to enter into a steep bank away from the shore. That left Arbalest hanging on to the base of the bay door opening, to keep from sliding down into the beast's belly.

Sousuke needed to pull the ARX-7 up and climb out.

"Hand strength failing," Al reported. That was the cost of their earlier wire climbing, and the labor-intensive movement across the aircraft's surface. "We are incapable of exiting this way."

B-O-O-O-O-M Long pause B-O-O-O-O-M Short pause B-O-O-O-O-M

Sousukje didn't have time to consider that the number of strikes in the time period suggested more than one attacking submarine, airborne launch carrier, or land attack unit was involved. The craft was now tilted forty-five degrees or more.

*boom* *boom* *boom* *boom* *boom* *boom*

Explosions were taking place in the huge interior; not because of the Tomahawks, but because of the remaining live bombs that Arbalest had left alone after they rolled out of reach earlier.

"I can use this situation to our benefit," Sousuke called out, letting Arbalest's grip go. Gravity! Gravity would save the day. He could slide down inside the beast, leaving its mouth behind, and shoot out of its opposite orifice. The other bay door was still open. "We have this!"

B-O-O-O-O-M Short pause B-O-O-O-O-M

Arbalest's sliding motion was thrown off course. It struck the wall away from the opening. A couple of unexploded bombs were threatening to roll their way. They started bouncing off of bulkhead pillars like pachinko balls off of pegs.

"Whatever can go wrong," Al stated. "Will go wrong." If things hadn't gotten weird enough, now the computer was quoting Murphy's law.

The mag-lev tractor and the trailer it pulled, minus the large bomb racks, lay on its side, still powered up. Sousuke scrabbled the A.S. forward, knocked the trailer flat, and rested the center of the ARX-7 on it. Like a surfer moving out towards the waves, he made swimming motions with the A.S. arms, pushing the trailer along quickly.

They shot out of the bay door.

B-O-O-O-O-M B-O-O-O-O-M B-O-O-O-O-M B-O-O-O-O-M

As they fell downward, Sousuke caught view of Chazqiel, putting off large amounts of smoke, looking like a burning bat that had escaped the depths of Hell. It was still turning away from the mainland as it attempted to level out its flight. It should hit water soon enough, hopefully before any engine went critical. He shivered, realizing once again, that they had been throwing large bombs inside of a nuclear-powered engine.

Splaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaa-aaaaaaa-aaaaaa-aaaaa-aaaa-aaa-aa-ash

"Ooo-oo-oph!" Sousuke was snug in his harness; but, the impact with the water still knocked the wind out of him. "Argh!" Shortly after hitting the water's surface, Arbalest struck bottom. That hurt too, but it was a good hurt, if it meant they were at a depth they could walk or crawl out from, predisposing that the ARX-7 was still watertight after all it had been through that day.

Which way was shoreward? He didn't want to wander blindly into deeper water.

"Al," Sousuke called out. "Is your internal compass working? Which way to the shore?" The A.I. put the image of a compass on the front view screen HUD, and said 'North North East'. It turned its body so that the arrow pointed straight ahead. "Return full power to the legs. All ahead full!" Sousuke liked the sound of that. It was a trope of sorts from historic and futuristic war movies.

"Feet don't fail me now," Al said, as Sousuke began to to move them through the water, buffeted slightly when the ARX-7 reached surf.

*Gulp*

The young pilot noticed the numbers on the HUD. "Pal… stop the self-destruct countdown!" He had forgotten about that. The A.I. would have reminded him when things got close, right?

"Countdown discontinued," Al said.

Sousuke called Da Danaan. There was clear jubilation on the end of the line. The only sour note was Commander Mardukas, who admonished Tessa, saying that the Captain of a submarine was not to shed tears, especially not in front of the crew. Sniffling, Tessa told Sousuke that a transport helicopter was on the way, and that an F-35 should be putting down as close as possible to his emergence point. That all assumed that he could make it ashore. After all he had been through, it would be terribly anti-climactic if he drowned within sight of land.

"You heard our instructions, pal." Souuske told the A.I. "Choose the best place to stand on solid ground, ECS maintained. I will take a plane. You will await the helicopter."

"Understood," Al replied. "Sergeant. Birds may not be able to see us, but they still sense that I am here."

"Really?" Sousuke did not like the sound of that. Birds seemingly sitting on air? An observer would think that something smelled fishy, in a matter of speaking. It was good that the A.I. realized that fact, and then reported its concerns.

"Yes," Al said. His true motivation was both humorous and unnerving. "They may defecate on me."

"-" With all that had happened to the ARX-7, including the severe damage that came from the thermobaric explosion, the A.I. was worried about some seagull shit?! Sousuke cleared his throat. "Find ways to keep the birds off without giving yourself away. Perhaps subsonic emissions. Figure it out." He opened the cockpit. He had never felt so happy before, thinking about touching earth again. Hopping down from the A.S., he felt like he had landed on a new planet or something. That had him paraphrase a famous saying:

"The Rabbit has landed!" He looked down at the sand. He had left two large rabbit foot impressions. Great. There would be people out here with cameras later on, no doubt writing stories about aliens or hibagons if they caught sight of the footprints. Hibagons are the Japanese equivalent of the North American Bigfoot and Himalayan Yeti.

"Urzu-7, come in." A voice came in over Sousuke's phone. "Urzu-7, this is Gebo-3, over."

"No." Sousuke shook his head. "Not him." Or, potentially, them. But, he had to reply. "This is Sagara."

"Cuitie! You're okay." Yes. It was Christopher Layton, Mithril helicopter pilot extraordinaire. "We're enroute to pick up the big boy. Beacon strength is good." He gave Sousuke an ETA. "We're flying Hercules… and you can consider this a labor of love." That bad joke fell flat as far as the rabbit-suited soldier was concerned. He had always enjoyed reading about the Labors of Hercules. The Hercules that the pilot mentioned was the TDD-1's newest bird, a Mithril variant of the American CH-53K King Stallion.

"Speaking of labor," another voice came onto the channel. Ii figured. It was Ruslan Polovinkovich, Gebo-1. "If you stay a young lady, you will no doubt have babies. After we rescue your big metal boyfriend, you will owe us a huge debt. You should name your first child after me. Your tenth after Chris. Especially if it's a girl."

Luckily for Sousuke, that call ended, as another came in. It was from Captain Charles Bong, Mithril F-35 pilot. He was flying a 2-seat variant, and was coming in for a landing.

"Sergeant Sagara," Bong said. "How far are you from that… well… giant white bunny?"

Sousuke didn't reply. He simply began slipping out of the costume.

"Oh!" Bong said, with a curt laugh. "Don't leave that thing on the sand. After your actions today, it probably belongs in a Mithril museum!" More chuckles.

"Everyone's a comedian," Sousuke said under his breath, still grateful for the ride. Finally, reality began to set in. Would it be possible to be 'him' again?

Before long, Sousuke was onboard, and the two sped for the Hospital

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Well, the whole story started off comedic, with some Fumoffu action thrown in where necessary. Hopefully the switch to rougher and tougher action didn't ruin the borscht in the end. And, if you like the harder stuff, I hope there was enough in the last few chapters.

It's time to head back to the Lab. You know what that means. The story will essentially end as it began.

Sort of.