Ch.21Work Record #004 – Far Too Many Me’s (6)

Not long after finishing a can of beer with Ms. Eve, the sun rose. Though the light was refracted through the hazy air, it was sunlight nonetheless.

I briefly stopped Ms. Eve as she was about to return home, or wherever she stays when not working. As far as I knew, the boss would be arriving soon… and 7436 would make her choice.

I spoke naturally, as this was now a forgiven story. She didn’t seem particularly displeased. It seemed this was information I was allowed to know. Or perhaps not.

Our boundaries were always ambiguous. We rarely established clear lines between what others should know and what they shouldn’t, mostly getting swept up in emotions instead.

“Aren’t you curious about what choice 7436 will make after hearing that story? I think watching might make you feel better.”

“Don’t act like you know everything already, Arthur. Though you were right this time.”

I caught the helmet she tossed me. It was weaker than my head, or even my limbs, but I put it on anyway. Only then did Eve’s expression soften with relief.

We returned to the office and opened the door. 7436 was still sleeping, oblivious to the world, while we sat on different sofas in the reception room, passing time briefly. The boss arrived at 7:30 AM, as usual.

Director Yoon might have expected to find me in the reception room, but probably not Eve. He had mentioned she was someone whose whereabouts were unknown outside of work hours.

“I expected one person waiting, but not two. Are you here because you have something specific to discuss?”

Director Yoon didn’t call Eve by name. That subtle consideration made me feel a bit more at ease. Eve seemed to recognize she was acting out of character, slightly bowing her head before answering.

“I just wanted to see what 7436 would say. It’s not such an unusual sight, is it?”

That evasive response was itself quite unusual. 7436, who hadn’t participated in our work and had gone to bed early, quietly rose at the sound of voices and walked toward the office door.

She walked silently on bare feet, without even slippers, and peeked outside the office. She seemed afraid of what scene might be unfolding beyond the door.

I deliberately didn’t acknowledge her, and didn’t hold back my laughter at Eve’s response. Only after witnessing this ordinary scene did 7436 properly emerge.

She only opened up after confirming she hadn’t suddenly returned to a terrible daily life filled with countless versions of herself. She had been sleeping peacefully, unaware of the world.

7436 cleared her throat and walked between us. Wearing tracksuit pants with the Night Watch’s two-stick logo, she spoke with an expression that didn’t match her mass-produced clone face.

“I’ve decided! I spent a long time thinking about it from last evening until dawn… That cultivation manager or whatever who asked to keep me—I think he might have tried to kill me, but I don’t think he would have put a gun in my hand and placed me on the security team.”

That was what Eve had said. Trust that person a little more. She seemed determined to follow that advice—to trust the person who had first shown her kindness, kindness whose reason she might never understand.

“So… I don’t think I want to live holding a gun. I’ll take a new name, a new face, and a new identity. This company is a good place, but I don’t think it’s right for me.”

The dead don’t speak. Words spoken in the name of the dead are our own words. We’re simply borrowing someone else’s name to convince ourselves.

She wanted her abilities to be recognized. As spy Bella, who could infiltrate anywhere, she could have received tremendous recognition.

But did she really need to go that far? She was someone who could be satisfied just being acknowledged as a person with free will. That’s why 7436 chose simplicity over ability and greatness.

“So I’ve been thinking… I want my name to be Helen. It’s not a special name, just the name of one of the few employees who left a good impression on me at the company. And for a surname… what was that cultivation manager’s surname? He was the second-best person I met at the company.”

“It was Schmidt. He was German. Well then, Ms. Helen Schmidt. Would you like to choose a face as well?”

In that moment, 7436 became Helen. Her circumstances might be slightly better than others’. While everyone else lives with names they didn’t choose, she would use a name she chose herself.

Eve looked at her as if proud, somewhat moved… or perhaps a little envious. I was glad I had convinced her to return to the company.

Director Yoon called Vola and Enzo, and the rest was left in their hands. Since she didn’t even have a computational assist device, Helen chose her face by looking directly at the display before departing in Vola’s pickup truck.

If I see her again, I’ll recognize her. I can’t say only good things await her. In a city where two hundred mercenary jobs pour in daily, a civilian’s life can easily shatter.

After watching everything, Eve put on her helmet and disappeared beyond the city on her bike. Her figure quickly vanished among the traffic-filled roads.

Once again, only Director Yoon and I remained in the office. Or rather, I thought only we remained. Valentina, who had gone drinking with Vola, emerged from the on-call room—I didn’t know when she had returned.

“This holiday will be a bit more peaceful. As long as I don’t see that friend who just left lying somewhere in tonight’s public job postings. Right, Boogeyman?”

“Come on, don’t say such ominous things. She’ll have to lie down for a day or two after changing her face anyway, so we definitely won’t see Helen in today’s public jobs.”

Valentina thought for a moment, then grinned again. She placed her skeletal-looking lightweight prosthetic hand on my shoulder and said:

“You never let me have the last word. Fine, fine. It’s better for us if we don’t meet Helen in the public jobs.”

She went back into the on-call room. She seemed to have returned to the company not long ago. Soon, the sound of her even breathing could be heard from inside. She appeared to be asleep.

Did she come in just when Eve and I went to the convenience store for a beer? That seemed unlikely, as we hadn’t noticed any presence when we returned. It had been that way throughout the hour we waited.

A slight uneasiness crawled through my body like an insect. Like something that exists somewhere but you can’t pinpoint where.

“Oh, Director, does our office have a back door? I was at the company, then went out briefly for a beer with Senior Eve… but when we returned, we didn’t sense anyone’s presence.”

Director Yoon answered without the slightest change in expression. It seemed like nothing important. Or perhaps not. I couldn’t rule out the possibility of a prepared answer.

“It’s not quite a back door… but there’s an emergency fire exit that leads that way. That corridor has been used as storage for quite some time, so Valentina uses it when she wants to sneak in. Only Valentina should have the key.”

Despite the clean answer, it was terribly inefficient—blocking a fire exit with cargo, keeping it locked, and having only one employee hold the key.

Something felt off. Director Yoon had proudly emphasized Bellwether’s efficiency when persuading Helen, yet this seemed like a major inefficiency for someone like him.

Could I connect this information with any other facts? Yes, a few things came to mind. The sound of careful wall-tapping that could only be heard at night. And the one additional employee who should have been there when I first came to submit my resume.

I had dismissed it as a personal matter at the time, but there seemed to be quite a bit of inefficiency involved. A curiosity rose within me—whether it was personal curiosity or a sense that I should know something I rightfully should.

Tomorrow would be another day off, so I could check in the evening. The director doesn’t come in on holiday mornings, so from tonight until the evening after tomorrow, only Valentina and I would be in the office.

Having made a clean plan, I decided to answer cleanly. We still knew far too little about each other to trust completely.

“I’ve never worked at Bellwether, but…”

“That’s right. It’s a classic example of inefficiency. I keep saying I’ll clear it out someday… but when you’re doing mercenary work on days that aren’t even weekends, things get postponed. I guess that’s the fate of a retiree.”

It was still difficult to distinguish whether this was a clean answer or an honest one. Perhaps I should consider it kind that the response to my speculation wasn’t a warning. For now, I just nodded.

“If you’re planning to clear it out sometime, I’ll help. Remember what I said during our drinking session?”

“Cleaning up trash while saying ‘This is what newcomers should do’? That’s the very definition of stereotypical and hierarchical inefficiency, Arthur.”

I smiled a little at the comfortable joke. The smile wasn’t very deep. But for now, work came first. Whatever was in the walls… it didn’t seem particularly dangerous.

So today too, I headed to the virtual reality training room. I put on several uncomfortable auxiliary devices needed to connect without a computational assist device.

The training and instruction through Bellwether’s official training program was more useful than I expected. I could learn the mindset that the security department should have, different from other mindsets, and that alone was enough to focus my mind.

After passing time that way, I walked out in the evening. After showering, I changed into my combat uniform. I put on protective gear over the black uniform that had become as familiar as my own skin. It felt as natural as wearing Bellwether’s employee uniform.

Today again, at 10:59 PM, everyone gathered in the office, staring at the hologram screen. K used a stopwatch to refresh it, and after a brief loading period, the request list poured in. A scene I had grown accustomed to.

The first time, I couldn’t even grasp how to select requests from here, but after about a week, I could quickly read through and skip over the request lists.

My technique was simple. I excluded anything with the word “patrol” attached. I focused on the word “sweep” and primarily looked at requests where the target was marked “unknown.”

Taking down unnamed budding gangs was simple yet surprisingly profitable. This city doesn’t belong to gangs. It belongs to the employees of all companies and the citizens.

I pushed several requests toward the director. It was rather amusing that the place where I used my Post-Human Type IV body vision the most was when receiving requests.

As the director checked the forwarded requests, he picked one specifically. The Night Watch logo was stamped on it. All other requests disappeared from the list.

A large hologram screen appeared. On the screen was a logo depicting a caricature of a sheep with large, curved horns. It resembled Bellwether’s logo but had a much fiercer impression.

“Beginning the public job briefing. This is a vigilante group disbandment operation. The Battering Rams vigilante group consists of Bellwether retirees and has been designated by Bellwether as a priority target. Most members are from Bellwether’s security and mobile departments, with some former general employees included… Stephanet caught them making terrorist threats.”

Judging by their horned mountain goat logo, they seemed to want to claim they were fighting for Bellwether. But that wasn’t true. They were just borrowing Bellwether’s name to gain legitimacy.

I quietly nodded. I felt a slight chill. Wasn’t this similar to me, who had been rampaging about taking revenge on biotech monstrosities and JAINA? The thought crossed my mind.

The briefing continued, and the chilling feeling only grew.

“The recipient of that terrorist threat is ‘Natural People are Beautiful,’ commonly known as JAINA’s Los Angeles branch. Most of these vigilantes are people who lost colleagues in the JAINA terrorist attack five weeks ago and quit Bellwether, and they’ve taken it upon themselves to punish JAINA directly, claiming Bellwether forgave them too easily.”

Eve looked at me anxiously. Yes, this time it seemed I would have to fight too many versions of myself. A month was enough time to nurture vengeful feelings.

Francis, who had quit over that incident, was receiving scout offers from Night Watch after about a month, and everyone was trying to start a new life in some way. Like me, they needed closure.

It was about closing the past. Taking revenge. Vengeance. They didn’t know that JAINA had already shed enough blood. They couldn’t have known. I wouldn’t have known either if I hadn’t coincidentally met the Shepherd.

Director Yoon maintained silence for a moment before continuing. This wasn’t just about me facing too many versions of myself.

“The reason I chose this public job is because Battering Rams includes several former Bellwether employees that Night Watch was trying to scout. Unless Night Watch, which tried to recruit them, directly handles the situation when they lose Bellwether’s ideals and go astray, we will fall under Bellwether’s suspicion. If you think my personal opinion has influenced this judgment, you may raise an objection.”

The first name that came to mind was Francis. My hand went up involuntarily. Director Yoon already knew what I was going to ask.

“You can rest assured, Arthur. Francis, who recommended you, is not included. If you have any other questions, feel free to ask.”

My hand went down. Thankfully, it wasn’t Francis. I wouldn’t have to face a former colleague who had gone astray over my death that never happened.

It wasn’t such a fortunate situation overall. Even if I didn’t know their faces or names, they were me. They were people who thought and judged the same way I did. In some ways, this would be an ideological battle.

Should I say I can’t do it? That wasn’t possible. Until now, I had been vaguely revealing my information in a roundabout way, but to explain why I couldn’t do this, I would have to break the gag order.

I calmed my mind for a moment. It was disbandment, not elimination. If Bellwether wanted them all killed, they would have used the word “sweep.” I raised my hand again and spoke.

“If it’s disbandment rather than elimination, does that mean there are methods other than forceful suppression?”

“Stephanet doesn’t think so, but it seems the LA branch director personally adjusted it from elimination to disbandment. We plan to attempt dialogue.”

“The company cares more about not setting precedents than saving individuals…” His words flashed through my mind. Shooting everyone dead would set a precedent.

If they could somehow be persuaded to follow Bellwether’s will, it wouldn’t become a precedent and would fizzle out. I never thought I’d feel grateful to that efficiency-obsessed branch director.

Only then did I swallow my emotions. I needed to think rationally. Persuasion would be difficult. Going in with the mindset of “Just persuade them!” wouldn’t be good.

“I apologize. I almost got too personal. I have no complaints about the job.”

I gathered my thoughts. The question of what made me different from them still lingered, but… at least I had considered infiltrating JAINA to root out extremists. I hadn’t made public terrorist threats.

Above all, I had thought that if I crossed the line, I would be dealt with like Osgard. They hadn’t thought that way. I didn’t believe I was doing righteous work. That was the difference.