Ch.48Work Record 009 – Nothing but the Horizon in Sight (4)

After briefly rambling, Ms. Eve finds some stability in my embrace. The coldness I once perceived in her begins to reveal what lies beneath.

Her inner feelings were easy to read. She’s not so much a good person as an ordinary one. Once filled with bitterness, now only self-loathing remains. Understanding the reason behind those feelings came later than recognizing them.

Now, Ms. Eve’s face resting on my shoulder felt completely natural. She whispered carefully, seeming to prefer speaking now, even if it was difficult, rather than bringing it up again later.

“I wish I had standards like you. You… have standards, right? You don’t enjoy seeing people die, and you like people who work hard day by day. I…”

“You like people trying to escape Hollowwood Creek and start new lives, don’t you? That’s why you let them into your home, even if it means living in hiding. Am I right?”

Ms. Eve nodded against my chest. She was pressed even closer than when she fell asleep yesterday.

“That’s right. But every time I help those people, something feels uncomfortable. They ask what life is like outside Hollowwood Creek, and I don’t know. Though lately, thanks to you, I have something to tell them. They like it too. You’re proof that the world outside Hollowwood Creek isn’t just full of corrupt officials like they’ve been told.”

The praise felt excessive, so I deliberately adjusted my posture and laughed. Ms. Eve had a slight smile on her face too.

“I already feel uncomfortable when you say I’m someone special, so please don’t. Maybe it’s the scenery that’s the problem. It’s all ruins around here.”

“Then… shall we go somewhere? You probably know Los Angeles better than I do. You choose. I’ll only ask you to do this until I can pick places myself. Let’s catch our breath, okay?”

The wounds haven’t healed. The mistakes haven’t been erased. We’ve just learned to look away. Still, it was good not to spend all day staring at our wounds.

I nodded lightly, recalling the Los Angeles district map I had memorized at Belwether’s security team training college. The map was easy to memorize when broken into pieces and studied repeatedly.

The area with Farmers Corporation headquarters would probably remind her of meeting the Inquisitor last time. I mentally set aside that part of the map. If we wanted somewhere far from downtown, the Fitts & Morrison area would be best.

It’s a bit further east from Pasadena where Belwether headquarters is located, but there’s a decent street nearby. Actually, it developed when Fitts & Morrison moved in. Major corporations bring commerce with them.

I’d made a good impression on Fitts & Morrison’s security chief last time, and he seemed like a decent person. When the higher-ups are good, their subordinates usually aren’t bad either.

And ironically, the front yard of a defense contractor’s branch office is one of the safest places in the city. Maybe it’s not even ironic. Even gang members bow their heads and remove their hats in front of defense contractors.

For safety with Ms. Eve, the areas near Belwether or Fitts & Morrison headquarters, or Beverly Hills where the LAPD barely maintains its presence, would be best… though the latter is where many nationalists live.

Nationalists might not be such bad people, but what we’re taught stays with us for a long time. I wasn’t completely free from that either. In the end, I decided on the bustling area near Fitts & Morrison.

“Okay, I’ve got it. Since it’s somewhere you probably haven’t been either, I’m thinking of going to the Fitts & Morrison area. Originally I didn’t think much of them since they’re competitors of the company that raised me, but the security chief I met during personal business last time seemed pretty decent. So, I’m trying to change my impression.”

Ms. Eve’s prosthetic hand pushed lightly against my chest. The impact-absorbing Posthuman Type IV absorbed the shock with uncomfortable clarity. This was the first time that sensation felt unpleasant.

“A mercenary who hasn’t even received their first paycheck is meeting all these big shots from major corporations. Fine. What’s near Fitts & Morrison?”

A slightly embarrassed smile rose to my face. For a moment, I forgot we were in Los Angeles.

“I don’t really know—we’re just going to check it out. Meeting someone I know near Belwether headquarters would be awkward, and as for downtown areas… well, you know?”

“You do say thoughtless things sometimes, Arthur. Fine. Let’s go see what’s there. We’ll fill our stomachs first, then find something to do.”

This was just how conversations went between people who had no real plans and rarely went out with others. We left the bedroom and changed into casual clothes in the area where Hollowwood Creek escapees had been sleeping.

I returned to wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, but kept my pistol at my waist, and stuffed my combat uniform and carbine into Ms. Eve’s bike storage compartment. Electric motor bikes tend to have spacious storage.

Once again, we rode out from the coastal ruins that were once luxury vacation homes, heading toward the city. Though we were taking roads I’d never traveled before, I wasn’t worried. Even if we failed, time would move on.

As the bike gradually picked up speed and the surrounding sounds became muffled, Ms. Eve poked my back with her fingertip.

“Come with me next week too. So next week I can apologize to the cult leader’s hologram without whining, and give that old Eve another blow. What do you say?”

Even though she called her “old Eve,” the woman looked younger than the Ms. Eve holding onto my back. That meant she must have a full-body prosthesis too. Not a combat model though. If she’d had artificial muscle reinforcement with a combat prosthesis, she could have resisted.

“How old is she anyway, that you call yourself old and refer to her as ‘old Eve’ too?”

“She’s probably the same age as the cult leader. Born in the 2000s. They’re almost hundred-year-old grandmothers who’ve injected rejuvenation drugs into their brains and swapped into young full-body prostheses, still playing the role of the cult leader’s wives.”

They were the kind of people with preservation fluid flowing instead of blood. That explained why she was unsuitable for combat despite having a full-body prosthesis… and that realization was somehow disgusting. I spoke with a sigh in my voice.

“I wish I hadn’t asked before eating… But if it helps, I’ll do it. I wasn’t hoping for a life of going to the wasteland every holiday, but it’s better than being stuck in training simulations with no days off.”

We passed through the ruins and streets where redevelopment had failed. Gangs didn’t come to these places as there was nothing to extort, but drug addicts and homeless people gathered here, like near office buildings.

When it rains, twenty of these people die at once. Nobody cares. Occasionally someone tries to help them, but they can barely maintain a single street.

Today too, someone was handing out maps with shelter locations to the homeless on the street, but most just stared at the papers with vacant eyes.

I didn’t deliberately ignore them. Just as Belwether tries to change the world according to its vision, that person was doing the same. Without such people, the streets would be twice as desolate.

After riding for about thirty minutes, we reached the area where Fitts & Morrison’s headquarters came into view. The streets were well-decorated with holographic plants, and the air was less acrid, as if they were running air purifiers.

Fitts & Morrison was less resistant to new technology than Belwether. That’s why ideas that would be filtered out at the prototype stage in Belwether could become reality here.

Despite that, the nearby restaurant used synthetic food substitutes. It was just like Fitts & Morrison—looking good on the outside, having unexpected advantages in certain areas, but lacking substance where it mattered.

Still, it wasn’t bad to eat. The synthetic food tasted less artificial than KSC’s fast food. As I dipped fries that weren’t made from potatoes, sirens began to sound in the distance.

An android waiter approached our outdoor table and politely gestured toward the inside of the restaurant with both hands. Then it began to output speech.

“Fitts & Morrison has issued an intruder alert. The main store will soon lower its bulletproof windows. If you’d like to watch Fitts & Morrison’s security team repel the intruders, I can arrange window seats for you.”

Ah, right. Just another holiday. No sooner do I pass on one job than another pops up. I came here thinking it would be safe, but Los Angeles is still Los Angeles.

I stood up, checked my pistol, then cleared my head a bit. Ms. Eve returned to her usual self, also checking her pistol, and we went inside the restaurant. The window seats were already full.

We must have been the last customers outside, because as soon as we entered, thick bulletproof panels came down over the windows, and on the inside… large monitors connected to external cameras descended.

Two large monitors showed the situation outside in real-time. Just like a sporting event, there was even a red circle with the word “LIVE” in the upper left corner—they were literally broadcasting it.

Ms. Eve spoke with an expression that suggested she found it absurd rather than offensive. It wasn’t that absurd to me, but it did look ridiculous at first glance.

“Just an ordinary Wednesday. Still, this doesn’t seem like a bad place for the two of us, does it, Arthur? What’s a life-or-death matter for someone is just a sport here.”

“Hmm… In their defense, this is Fitts & Morrison’s preventive measure. It’s saying: ‘Whatever grand revenge you’re planning, to us it’s just entertainment, a joke, a sport.’ It filters out people who care more about not becoming a laughingstock than their own grievances. Not very efficient, though.”

Fitts & Morrison was quite responsive to complainants as long as they didn’t try to become intruders. If you didn’t drive a van full of weapons straight at their headquarters, Fitts & Morrison was gentlemanly.

But was there a need to go this far in the opposite case? I couldn’t really tell. People were gathered in front of the monitors, and if it weren’t for Ms. Eve, I would probably be watching Fitts & Morrison’s security team too.

Of course, Ms. Eve didn’t look pleased. She grabbed my arm as I sat with my back to the large monitor, as if telling me not to turn around, and spoke.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. Let’s just sit here and write something as if nothing’s happening, then head back to the company. Want to listen together? Or…”

“I’ll keep my senses dampened, so don’t worry. Oh, wait. I need to check for safety to feel at ease…”

I slowly looked around the restaurant. The structure itself was simple. Beyond the counter, the kitchen was hidden, with a conveyor belt bringing out food and a small door leading to a back room.

That back area would be the kitchen, and behind that would be the food storage. How easy was it for Nightwatch to infiltrate KSC to arrest Binas Meditech’s disgruntled shareholder? It was child’s play.

I raised my hand lightly, and the android employee approached us, bowing slightly in a mechanical manner and asked:

“If you have additional orders or complaints, I will relay them. What can I do for you?”

This was exactly why I immediately sensed something was off about the Non-Human Liberation Front’s android. This is how normal androids talk. No purpose, just process.

“Can you tell me about the security status of the food storage area behind the kitchen? I’m Arthur Murphy, general staff from Nightwatch, a mercenary company affiliated with Belwether. When we infiltrate places like this, we usually use the food storage area.”

I showed my mercenary license, and the android began scanning the code with its eyes. After the scan was complete, its expressionless face turned into a smile and it said:

“As the terrorists’ objective is to infiltrate Fitts & Morrison rather than the main store, there is no security equipment installed in the food storage area other than CCTV. You can check the current status of the terrorists on the monitors by the windows.”

Their security regulations are a mess. I briefly looked at the camera footage showing the access road to Fitts & Morrison headquarters. A van with armed individuals was approaching.

Then the screen flickered slightly. I could see an electromagnetically accelerated tungsten projectile precisely disabling the van without over-penetrating, followed by the sonic boom of the projectile.

Usually after such a live broadcast of terrorist suppression, citizens would cheer, but this time everyone sensed something was off. This couldn’t end so simply and stupidly.

And most importantly… the tinted windows of the van weren’t covered in blood, and the external cameras with audio recording capabilities didn’t pick up any screams or sounds of preparation for counterattack from inside the van.

It’s a trap. It was an unmanned vehicle. Not even a bomb vehicle, but seemingly an empty vehicle loaded only with traceable weapons. Ms. Eve, who had been listening to my security questions, lowered her headset and said:

“This is Eve, general staff from the same mercenary company, Nightwatch. Can you put the CCTV footage from the storage area on the big screen? The van outside is a decoy, and if they’re not directly targeting Fitts & Morrison…”

It was obvious where anger at being made a laughingstock would be directed. Not at those who made them a laughingstock, but at those who laughed at them.

Seems I picked the worst date spot. Soon the CCTV footage from the food storage area appeared on the large screen, and the lights came on. A van was already stopped with the delivery entrance half open. The side of the van opened.

“Ah, damn it. We should’ve just watched a movie at the company, Ms. Eve. Android, help the people in the restaurant hide behind chairs. Report to Fitts & Morrison. They’re probably looking for the real terrorists too—tell them to search all the surrounding stores.”

“Confirmed. I have reported to Fitts & Morrison that mercenary company Nightwatch’s general staff Arthur Murphy and Eve are combat participants and allies. Communication request…”

Ms. Eve didn’t want to let people die. It’s better to have no terrorists than to have them, and Fitts & Morrison should change their preventive measures to be more efficient. I sighed deeply and said:

“Tell them to hurry. Count the number of people on the CCTV and relay that… turn off the lights in the storage room and close the door.”

A bullet or two won’t even cause proper wounds. I took a deep breath. No matter how much better I am than others, the pain of gunshot wounds isn’t easy to endure.

Complete strangers are about to die because of the preventive measures of a company I don’t even believe in. But I can’t just mock them. Only two men had exited the van. They must be quite spread out.

“Everyone, hide behind the chairs! Don’t panic—we’re right in front of a major corporation’s branch office! They’ll be here soon! The report has been filed, and Fitts & Morrison must have called their partners too!”

After calming people down, Ms. Eve had them hide behind the chairs near the windows. Fortunately, the layout had plenty of space. I immediately entered the darkened kitchen with my pistol drawn. Though the lights were off, I could see clearly ahead.

A single blink completed my dark adaptation. I focused on the voices coming from the storage area. There were two voices, and one person wasn’t breathing. A prosthesis user.

“Risking what’s left of my life, and these pig bastards sit there watching like it’s a football game… Fuck, I’m going to shoot them all dead! Whether Fitts & Morrison crushes us or not, after that…”

“Keep quiet. They’re not stupid either. They’ll start sending security teams to the surrounding stores as soon as there’s a commotion. Even if it takes them fifteen seconds to get here, if we sneak in quietly, we can kill twenty people before leaving. You know what they did to your brother.”

I didn’t care. The moment someone picks up a gun to shoot ordinary employee-citizens in order to make a point, this world loses interest in any sad story. Today was no exception.