Theocracy with Hate Intelligence (2)
—Slurp.
“Mm. Juicy.”
“Where did you even pick up a line like that?”
Kazan’s weather had already tipped into early autumn. I watched the cold wind rattle the glass as the evening glow slid down the sky, sipping the coffee Riel had brought me and letting my thoughts drift.
Overtime again today.
Of course, the more you dwell on “enjoyable overtime,” the more it hollows a person out. So I hunted for something—anything—else to occupy my mind, turning the problem over and over until, at last, a piece of information I’d half-forgotten surfaced.
“Riel, when did the envoy leave again?”
“The ruins envoy? By current count they set out three weeks ago, so… they’re probably deep into a lively shouting match by now.”
“Hm.”
If the envoys were busy arguing, my dear little Purge Squad members might well have gotten bored enough to cause an incident.
“No additional reports?”
“No. Even the weekly regular dispatches didn’t have anything that stood out.”
“Really…?”
Envoys were supposed to be like that, fine—but for those precious little monsters to stay quiet as well?
“The total silence is making me more nervous, not less.”
“Isn’t that a bit much, Minister?”
“You really think so?”
“No.”
Even Riel answered like that. All I could do was sigh.
“Huuuuuu…”
“Well, don’t worry yourself sick over it. There’s that saying—no news is good news.”
She was trying, in her own way, to comfort me. I nodded in quiet gratitude.
“You’re right. Your words make sense, Riel.”
“Nyehing.”
She made some bizarre noise at the end, but what of it? One way or another, the old saying about no news being good news hadn’t survived for nothing.
Maybe everything really is fine, and I’m just burning my nerves on useless fretting.
With that settled, I played along with Riel’s chatter for a while.
“Wah, nyeum-nyeum… hmmphk…”
“Minister, you’re going to lose all your teeth.”
Only after finishing that blissfully voluntary overtime did I finally fall asleep under Kazan’s glittering night sky.
And the next day—
“What the hell is this.”
“Your Grace, this is our heartfelt gift.”
The Purge Squad had slammed into the Imperial National Park like a meteor and then shown up carrying a bizarre, enormous boulder of unknown origin. The problem was that the boulder was large. Very, very large.
“Whoa. I heard the National Park got wrecked and wondered what happened—so you rammed that into it.”
“…”
“Are you all insane? No—before that, how did you even get something that huge past the Capital Defense Fleet and Orbital Command’s sensor net?”
“We just weaved around a bit, whoosh, boom, and bam—it works out.”
“…?”
The moment I heard them, my mind filled with visions of the blame game this was about to become.
A giant meteor and a ship slamming into the sacred homeworld of Kazan, turning a precious National Park into Crater Park?
Just listing the people who would have to answer for this made my gastritis flare again.
Court-martialed for failed perimeter duty alone: the First Fleet admiral and the Capital Defense Fleet commander… ah, and Orbital Defense Command for failing interception and surveillance…
And the real key point: the Purge Squad who had turned the National Park into a crater park—and their master. Me.
“…”
“Minister, how are we fixing this? Looking at it, the people tangled up in this aren’t just one or two…”
“…”
“Minister?”
The instant I fully grasped the situation—
Event: One Hundred Million Stars Falling from the Sky
News that a massive meteor has struck the capital world of Kazan has dealt a severe blow to the diplomacy and political-financial circles of the Holy Sevelian Empire and its neighboring states.
Suspicion is spreading unchecked that the Sevelian Empire’s military and regular fleets have grown lax in discipline.
In response, the Sevelian Empire’s government has declared that those responsible will face severe censure.
Foreign trust toward the Holy Sevelian Empire for 5 years: −10
Without separate countermeasures, one high-ranking imperial official will be forced to resign.
Additional personnel may be forced to resign at random.
If Arto Virtorius Seveli is forced to resign, his position will be reassigned to: the Emperor’s Pet.
The news that a resignation Russian roulette had just spun into motion made my legs go weak and cold sweat break out.
Sure, it was random—I might not get hit. But according to the message, Artraia was essentially drawing her blade for a full purge. I could already feel the Neurosis trait about to trigger as I pressed my throbbing temples and sank into a chair.
First, figure out what that thing is. Then gather opinions from everyone involved.
Once my thoughts lined up, I pointed at the boulder the squad was still holding.
“So. What exactly is that?”
“Ah, that? That’s the AI that helped us escape the ancient ruins.”
“…?”
A theocratic special unit sent as escort for a ruins expedition, saved by an AI inside those same ruins and helped out of them.
“What in the world happened out there…”
I could only manage a hollow reaction to something so hard to process—
“We knew Your Excellency would be very curious about this story.”
“What.”
“This tale begins back when we were still in L.A.…”
They launched into the story among themselves without warning, and this time pure bewilderment hit me.
A long while later—
“You lot talk way too much. Zip it for a while.”
Riel, having finally blocked the eardrum terrorism of the too-much-talkers, snapped and summarized again.
“So basically: the survey team, the envoy, and you were all about to die in the ancient ruins when the facility’s management AI barely woke up in time and you survived.”
—Nod nod.
“And after that, the place was going to be annihilated by a power-core runaway, so the AI asked for help, and you dragged the whole thing here—foundation and all.”
—Nod nod.
“The AI was built with tech from an ancient fallen empire, so it warps straight to Kazan. That right?”
—Nod nod.
“That’s their story, Minister.”
“…Hm.”
Having rapidly compressed the Purge Squad’s chaotic rambling, Riel looked at me again.
“What are you going to do? If we just sit here, Her Majesty will purge you along with the fleet admirals and the rest, then use the openings to grow her own faction.”
At her words I hit pause again. Subjectively, a full two days passed before I released it and spoke.
“Link me with everyone who seems tangled up in this. I have a way to resolve it.”
“Impressive. Coming up with a plan in that short a time.”
“It’s not really like that.”
Truly.
The next day, I surveyed the faces gathered in the hologram conference room of the Foreign Executive Ministry to plan a response.
—“Minister Arto. I came because you said we would establish countermeasures for this incident.”
The First Fleet admiral—also a leading figure of the neo-imperialist faction, with its aristocratic and nationalist leanings.
—“Her Majesty’s wrath over this matter is exceedingly fierce.”
The Capital Defense Fleet commander, who had been maintaining a relatively neutral stance.
—“Just how does something like this even get this far?”
The Orbital Defense Command chief, who had simply been framed by circumstance.
Assorted other related parties were all present. I nodded and spoke.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I imagine many of you are deeply concerned about this incident.”
—“Isn’t that obvious?”
—“If things go wrong, everyone in this room could be purged…”
On any ordinary day these people would have been tearing into one another in a frenzied factional free-for-all. Today, with their necks on the line, they had somehow achieved a perfect We Are the World of shared purpose.
If Artraia saw this, she’d wail and beg them to show even a fraction of it in front of her.
I wiped the stray thought from my mind, snapped my fingers toward the holograms, and said:
“I have one method. Will you all follow my lead?”