A Knife at Their Throat

The Rolls-Royce Phantom limousine seated four in the back, two pairs facing one another. The shock of my first ride in the presidential car was still vivid, and now I was going about in something even more expensive — not that it stirred any fresh feeling. Just the flat sense that I had come up in the world.

We were bound for Gwanghwamun in a sedan whose cabin might as well have been furnished with a handmade sofa of the highest grade. I was quietly watching the street slip past when Franc, seated opposite and following the news on her phone, spoke.

"When the head of a nation makes the wrong choice, it is only the blameless citizens who suffer for it."

At that quiet voice, Hwayeon — who had been watching couples savoring Christmas through the window — turned to her.

"Which is precisely why the people must study, and elect a proper president."

"The Republican Party will take a fatal blow to its moral standing over this. How do you suppose they will contain it?"

"A perfect containment is impossible, I should think. They have already failed the raid and let Muscle Bear run wild. The only way to keep the damage to a minimum would be a swift apology together with a plea for Seoha's help — but Seoha has already made it known through the press, however informally, that he will not help. From America's position, there is a fire on the back of their foot."

"I hope they come to their senses quickly and bring Seoha an apology."

As she said it, Franc glanced at my profile where I sat watching the window. She wanted America to apologize properly, and soon, so I would go catch the aberrant before any more civilians were hurt.

Hwayeon studied Franc's worried face for a moment, then said quietly,

"This incident has produced diplomatic friction... I am not even certain friction with Seoha ought to be called a diplomatic error. But they caused the friction, failed to stop the aberrant, and let the damage grow, and the Republican Party will swallow every bit of that fault. The party itself may cast President Trumpet overboard. They may even collude with the Democrats and bring his impeachment into open debate."

"Now that you mention it, there are midterm elections next year, aren't there? The Republicans will take a heavy blow in more ways than one."

"The Trumpet faction of the Republican Party is a sinking ship. Remain as they are and they will only die together, so I believe they may cast him off to limit the damage."

Miho, perched on Hiarid's lap and squishing Darky in her hands while she listened to the lovers talk, tilted her head as if something refused to click. Hiarid had ridden in the car a few times by now and seemed to have gotten the knack of it — four wings folded as tight as they would go, her large frame tipped back, half-reclined on the wings she had spread beneath her. I wondered whether bending them every which way hurt, but those wings had shrugged off my magic bullets to some degree even back when I was only C-Class, so this much probably didn't pain her at all.

Seated on those knees and thinking hard, Miho finally creased her brows as if her head hurt, and asked me,

"— Then Master isn't going to help the country called America?"

I looked at her, ears pricked toward me, and she tilted her head adorably. Franc smiled, pleased that Miho was taking an interest in such things, and stroked her hair.

"You're interested in things like that?"

"— Mm. People hate aberrants. But that aberrant is so strong only Master can handle it, so shouldn't Master help?"

The ethics and moral lessons drilled into her with Porongi's help were paying off here. Franc smiled, gave Miho's fox ears a light stroke, and spoke to help her understand.

"Mm~ Miho, you and Seoha caught ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Blade Flyer the day before yesterday, didn't you?"

"— I didn't catch it! Master caught it all by himself......"

"Ah, yes. Anyway, at first America couldn't catch it, so they asked Seoha for help. But then America tried to do something bad to Seoha behind his back, and they were caught."

At the mention of someone trying to do something bad to me, Miho's face scrunched all over again. She fiddled with the fingers Hiarid had wrapped around her waist, then asked,

"— So you're not helping because they were shameless?"

"That's right. When you have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠done wrong, you apologize and beg forgiveness. They didn't even do that, so he isn't helping."

"— But the people on that big ship gave me cookies and candy, and they were nice...... Are those people going to die too?"

So she didn't want the American soldiers who had given her snacks to die. Her fox ears drooped and her face went glum, and Darky, who had been sitting between her legs, flopped onto its back, looked up at her, and worked its mouth.

"— Hey, kitty. Even beasts run when they meet an enemy they can't handle, and people are the same. You saw 'em evacuating on TV, yeah? —"

"— So they won't die?"

"— They're running 'cause they don't wanna die. —"

"— So they'll live?"

"— Duh. —"

"— Oh, okay~."

Simple, textbook logic, but it seemed easier for her to grasp that way, and the sulky look brightened. The fox ears standing on her head pricked and flapped so adorably that smiles rose on Franc and Hwayeon's faces.

The instant the limousine stopped, Miho flung the door open, scrambled out, seized Hiarid's arm, and bolted for the Christmas tree. She ran — and yet.

People or aberrants, pretty is what gets looked at. Had some ordinary aberrant appeared, the citizens packed into the square would have been screaming and fleeing in a panic, but Hiarid was the very image of an angel, and Miho, fox ears and all seven tails notwithstanding, was full of that particular middle-school cuteness and charm, and beautiful besides. They seized every gaze at once. All the more so because they spoke human language and wore modern fashion.

The Christmas tree Miho had wanted to see stood in the square before Gwanghwamun at Gyeongbokgung Palace. Five stories tall, it was no fir at all — just a long pole wrapped tight in a cone of light bulbs, with a red cross planted at the peak. A light-bulb tree.

"It's a fake Christmas tree."

"Can a Christmas tree be fake?"

"A real tree is when you stand up a huge fir, decorate it with multicolored tinsel and cotton and lights, and hang a gold star on the very top!"

At my firm answer, Franc and Hwayeon simply smiled.

Brring.

I was wandering the area with my girlfriends, people-watching and tree-watching, when a text arrived on my Certifier.

I checked. It was from Lydia. Which meant...

"Twenty minutes ago, the second Muscle Bear raid failed. Rank confirmed as Calamity, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she says."

"They do not seem to have determined that it is a subspecies."

Then, with another chime, one more text came in — this one a good deal longer.

Franc and Hwayeon stared at the string of text before their eyes, words gone.

"Hm. They charged in because it wasn't the Phase World, just the one Muscle Bear? They even used a nuke backpack, so they must have been trying hard to save the ability users. But it took a nuke and walked away fine. Modern weapons really can't do a thing to a Calamity-rank aberrant."

"To think not even a nuke works... That is shocking."

"I figured the nuke would work too, you know. They say highly advanced science is indistinguishable from magic, but I guess it still can't match the real thing."

Hwayeon let out a reflexive snort at my remark, then her face went grave again and she muttered,

"Fort Bragg in North Carolina is right under Washington, D.C.'s jaw..."

"Yeah?"

"The distance is roughly four hundred kilometers, but most of it is flatland. If Muscle Bear, a Physical Reinforcement type, runs it in a straight line, it is not even an hour away."

The capital region, basically. I closed the hologram and was muttering that this would move faster than I had thought when a call came in from Yeongeun.

Yeongeun appeared in the hologram window and opened with a serious face. She was using "Chairman," and formal speech, unlike usual — which told me she was on a call with someone. That someone was probably America.

"Coming isn't hard, but what's this about?"

I matched her formal register as I asked, and Yeongeun gave a small nod.

Of course. Muscle Bear was moving to a point a little over four hundred kilometers from Washington, D.C. They must have felt a knife pressed to their throat. I really didn't like the sight of them scrambling to call the moment they got desperate... but what was I supposed to do.

If I refused here, what would that do to Yeongeun's position? I stared straight into her eyes and caught the faintest smile in them.

...Did she want me not to come, too? I should bounce it.

"I think I'll pass. I don't particularly want to talk to those people."

Yeongeun frowned and let out a small sigh, as if she had been waiting for exactly that. A happy sigh, visible only to me.

Refusing really had been the right call.

"Wasn't the Blade Flyer an international matter last time too? And I still nearly got stabbed in the back. Ugh. Now that I've brought it up, I'm in an even worse mood."

Through Spatial Perception I looked in on the Blue House, 1.2 kilometers from here, and the conference room where Yeongeun sat. It was the same room I had barged into last time, mid-meeting with America and Russia. She occupied the head seat alongside the same ministers and vice ministers, gravity written all over her. Unfortunately, the panel mounted on one wall registered to Spatial Perception as nothing but a flat plate, so I couldn't tell what expression the other side was wearing. Books and handwriting I could make out from the ink, but not a screen.

The faces of everyone in the meeting were blank, bluntness fairly dripping off them, and I couldn't read the mood either... and then, all at once, every eye in the room swung toward the panel. Had someone said something?

Yeongeun must have muted the call, because no sound came through. I muted mine as well and turned to Franc and Hwayeon, who had stepped clear to either side so they wouldn't show on her screen.

"This might wrap up faster than I thought."

"Are you refusing on purpose?"

"Yeah. It looked like Yeongeun wanted me to bounce it, so I bounced it."

Franc heard me out.

"You caught that..."

She lifted her brows a fraction. Hwayeon nodded, then spoke.

"Certainly, coming the moment one is summoned would not be proper, given Seoha's reputation and station. Refuse the request to a reasonable degree, as you are doing now, and when Madam coaxes you to the table under the guise of calming you, she will secure terms that place her above America in the negotiation."

"Yeah. I was planning to brush them off a bit, then go."

I saw Yeongeun lift a hand in a small wave, so I unmuted — and she spoke in a tone of pleasure only I would have recognized.

Not the president — the vice president? Yeongeun's expression held a faint smile. This time I ought to give in.

"...All right. I'll come right now."

The moment I shut off the Certifier, Franc spoke, looking a little startled.

"Vice President Joe Selden stepping forward... Has President Trumpet been impeached?"

"If you're impeached, are you pulled off presidential duties right away?"

"Not immediately. But if the vice president has stepped forward rather than the president, something may have happened to President Trumpet himself. He may have admitted himself to a hospital on the pretext of illness and handed presidential duties to the vice president."

Franc, full of puzzlement at Hwayeon's words, turned to her.

"What? You mean he's faking sick? Why?"

So I offered the guess that had come to me.

"Because the President of the United States can't end up in a position where he has to apologize to a private individual?"

It was the reason that had popped into my head the moment I heard Hwayeon, and seeing her nod with a blank face, it seemed I was right.

"The second Muscle Bear raid has failed. They played the best cards America can field — the first-, third-, and eighth-ranked raid teams — and still they failed. On top of that, Muscle Bear is closing in directly beneath the American capital. There is only one way to break this situation, is there not."

Without relaxing that blank expression, Hwayeon turned her gaze east and went on, a thread of anger in her voice.

"The President of the United States apologizing to Seoha in person. But Seoha is as angry as he can be, and he has already announced that he will not help America. In other words, even if they apologize, the chance of obtaining what they want is very small."

"So the president invents an excuse, removes himself from state affairs, and the vice president fills the empty office?"

"Yes. The current president is of an age, so he suffers a severe mental shock from the failure of the second raid and collapses. The vice president temporarily succeeds the vacant presidency. Then, to soothe an angry Seoha, the vice president bows his head and begs forgiveness in a personal capacity. It is the vice president as an individual who apologizes — not the United States. A very plausible scenario, is it not."

"Ah. What a plausible bit of packaging."

Whoa. Franc was genuinely angry. I had seen her angry now and then, but I had never once seen her brows draw into that sharp, inverted arch.

Walking toward Miho, who was admiring the light-bulb Christmas tree, I said to Franc and Hwayeon,

"It works out anyway. I'll have them punish everyone involved except Trumpet first, and for President Trumpet, I'll take personal revenge through Sophia, in a way that doesn't run afoul of the law."

"Even if you demand the people involved be punished, there is no telling what kind of blindfold and shell game America will run. I have my doubts we can trust it."

"Of course I'll ask Britain and Russia to audit them. From the look of it, the GS raid team is involved to some degree too — who's to say America won't squirrel their talented ability users away and trot out a scarecrow? Since when do you leave the fish with the cat?"

Only then did Franc and Hwayeon's faces ease a little, and they nodded.

I would go hear what the American vice president had to say. The conditions I meant to lay down were these: punishment for every last person who devised and planned this kidnapping; a demand for the list of those involved; something to take in hand as the price of helping; and British and Russian oversight of the first two. That much, and I could overlook America trying to kidnap Hwayeon and hold her hostage.

And if they wouldn't take it? ...Fuck it. Then I'd have to cut loose.

The third item I would leave to Yeongeun to secure however she liked. Come to think of it, I had no idea what had become of the Blade Flyer's carcass. I briefly laid the four conditions out for Franc and Hwayeon, and they reacted as if that would be enough. So ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Trumpet, among those involved, I would handle that way — but what was I supposed to do about the rest?

"— Master~! The tree! The tree's huge! Way, way bigger than I thought!"

Miho spotted me walking toward her, dashed over in a flurry, and pointed at the Christmas tree, beside herself with excitement.

Her white face was flushed a pretty red, the picture of delight, so I reached up and stroked her hair, peeled Darky off the nape of her neck, and set it on my shoulder.

Miho tilted her head at me taking Darky, then looked at Franc and Hwayeon coming up behind, then back at me. I stroked the cheek of that little face and asked,

"You like it, now that you've seen the Christmas tree?"

"— Yeah! I like it!"

She beamed and burrowed into my arms, giggling hee-hee, and I patted her as I spoke.

"Yeah, yeah. Master's got something urgent, so I'm going to work and I'll be back. Stay with Franc and Hwayeon, and don't wander off. Even if a stranger says they'll buy you snacks and asks you to come along, don't go."

"— Okay!"

"Hiarid, stick with Miho and make sure she doesn't get into trouble."

"= Yes, my Lord. ="

I waved back at my lovers, at Miho and Hiarid, tucked Darky into the inner pocket of my jacket, and Space Leaped to the conference room where Yeongeun was.

Now then. Let's see how America plays this.