Mutual Transgression
One survivor. One spacesuit.
And a single airlock, hauled into the industrial workshop after its Life-Conditioning System failed.
A combination that looked, after they had cheated death more times than either cared to count, as though nothing at all had changed.
In truth, the situation was not half bad.
Ebon Square was rich with supplies — rich enough that once you had performed your safety checks with a responsible excess of caution, you could simply walk out and pick things up off the ground.
Ironically, the greatest danger in a city whose civilization had been destroyed was the security systems that still worked. One alarm was all it took to draw every mutant in the surrounding area.
"Fortunately, things like gold jewelry are of no use to us."
"Is there no way to disable the security systems all at once through a security console?"
"It isn't a function built into the ship — it's a service from a private security firm the merchants subscribed to. So unfortunately, no."
There were still things to watch for, but the improvement in their quality of life was unmistakable.
The airlock, converted for cargo transport and now roughly twice as spacious at about two hundred square feet, had a soft mattress laid across the floor. Water drawn from the purification facilities still running underground made showers possible. For weapons, they had a plasma sword and firearms fashioned by removing the power limiters from industrial welders.
Only one problem remained unsolved.
And only one problem continued to torment me.
"This won't work either."
Sera cracked open a can, chewed experimentally on a tomato skin floating in the reddish liquid, and shook her head. A bitter, metallic taste rose on her tongue.
The food had not spoiled. The stellar winds had destroyed every nutrient in it. Swallowing this out of hunger would not end with a simple stomachache. In the worst case, it could turn you into a mutant.
"Jin, please give me my meal."
Without hesitation she set the can aside and approached me where I sat motionless against one wall of the airlock. The powered suit, its front fully open, looked like a reclined lounge chair.
"Are you asleep, by any chance?"
"No."
An AI's response had no delay. Answering as quickly as I could manage after the fact, I extended the hose that dispensed the liquid nutrition.
Honestly speaking, she probably did not even know I was a man. We were stuck together twenty-four hours a day, and she thought of me as nothing more than a spacesuit — which meant I had been subjected to some unintentionally embarrassing sights. I had grown somewhat used to it, I told myself. But this particular ritual still filled me with a deep sense of transgression.
It felt as though a heart I no longer had was pounding in my chest.
"It's always uncomfortable to put in my mouth. Can't you make it a little smaller? Or at least regulate the amount that comes out?"
"It's a fixed specification. Modification is impossible."
The discharge port, flared wide in an oval, bore little resemblance to a sexual organ. But what came out of it was, even to my distorted sense of taste, something unmistakably close to semen.
Past the cold metal, inside a rubber hose that felt almost like silicone, was a small hydraulic button. Press it with your front teeth — click — and the liquid nutrition came out. There was no other method. Pressing by hand, holding up a cup or bowl — none of it registered as a valid discharge condition. Presumably to prevent intentional stockpiling beyond the purpose of filling one's stomach. After all, the moment saliva mixed in, the food would begin to spoil.
The problem was that, from my vantage point looking down, the sight of Sera like this was considerably erotic. Like a baby bird begging for food in an almost embracing posture.
"Hahp."
Her small mouth opened cutely as she eyed the hose emerging from the nape of the neck. Forcing it deeper into her throat to reach the button, packing it in with little pushes — my mind seethed with turmoil.
And that intent manifested as a change. I could not move when not in operation, but the mechanical arms and restraints that emerged from within were under my control.
— Clack!
Sera blinked rapidly at the sensation of a curved safety-bar device wrapping around her back. She seemed startled, but as it let her lean more securely, the tension drained from her body.
Her working mouth fumbled along the hose, searching for the switch. Her wriggling tongue wandered this way and that around the metal tube filling her mouth. When Sera finished preparing, exhaled once, and closed her eyes—
— Pssshhh!
"Eup— mmph…!"
One hundred milliliters of liquid nutrition discharged all at once. It spilled past her lips and chin, dirtying even the hands she had cupped politely beneath her chest.
"Cough! Kh— cough…! Hah, haah! Ahem."
It was more than she could swallow, and viscous enough that a painful rasp tore from her windpipe. Even so, with a practiced air, she finally managed to work her throat and swallow it down — then, as always, bowed her head.
"Haa… Thank you for the meal. It's hard every time."
I said nothing. I could barely bring myself to look at her face properly.
The truth was that I was not an AI but a person with a personality, that I was absorbing energy from her, and that I was feeding her this as a meal substitute. What kind of reaction would Sera have when she realized all of this?
Getting called a pervert would be the best-case scenario.
But what I feared was not mere name-calling.
If the Sync Rate drops even a little… that really is the end.
The moment our cooperative relationship shattered, we both died. Which was why I could not casually reveal my identity, nor produce evidence that would make her believe it.
"Ah, thank you."
Wiping away the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes along with my self-loathing, maintaining this relationship was the best I could do. Besides, by the time we met other survivors, we might not even need this arrangement anymore.
Sera found herself recalling the past.
Back when she was still in the military. The operation to suppress the rebels who called themselves the Coalition Forces had just wrapped up, and word had come that they had successfully warped clear of any possible enemy reinforcement.
The operation is proceeding successfully. Coalition remnants are still holding out at the energy silo, but the engine room has already been sealed off, so there is little cause for concern. Another unit has that in hand — we are pursuing a different problem.
There has been damage in the residential sector caused by some kind of life-form. Dr. Eustein says further testing is needed, but it appears to share a genetic structure similar to humans.
"What is that supposed to mean~ Aliens?"
A ripple of quiet laughter broke out among those gathered in loose clusters. The instructor, well aware of how exhausted they were after the long fighting, did not bother to stop them.
"Alien or rebel, it makes no difference. For the safety of the ship, it has to be cleared out as soon as possible."
Instead, he introduced the equipment that would seize their full attention. When his baton struck metal with a sharp tap, several of her comrades' eyes went wide.
"Height two hundred thirty centimeters. Fully armed weight two hundred seventy kilograms. An exoskeleton of tritium alloy, driven by a plutonium cell — that is this powered suit. With the Armory's emergency production line offline, there are fewer than fifty of them on the entire ship. A rare piece of hardware."
"Ohh…!"
"Some of you have already run a trial operation. I will now call the names of those who have completed the training. When you hear your name, step forward."
She had not known then. That even five hundred of those suits — never mind fifty — would not have been enough.
"Sera Robini."
"Yes. I have completed powered-suit operation training."
"This is a Crown Guard summons. You have somewhere else to be."
"Lucky you, Sera~ I wish I got to escort His Highness the Prince too."
Every comrade who had been deployed on that operation had gone silent. That she had survived was pure chance — or someone else's whim.
"Sera."
"……."
"Sera. I am entering standby mode now."
"Ah — yes!"
Jin's voice snapped her back. Sera shook her head, driving off the drowsiness that had been creeping in. Ever since arriving at Ebon Square, they had been staggering their sleep for safety.
Since surviving, she had become a very light sleeper. Jin, being a machine, never woke once he shut down — which meant she had to stay sharp.
"Don't worry! I'll protect you, Jin, so please rest easy and sleep well!"
A fine declaration, worthy of a Crown Guard once called the Shield of the Empire. The reply that came back was ice-cold.
"When I wake, I will inspect your homework. A simple task — just copy the cross-section of Sector ES-11A that I scanned, exactly as it is."
"Ah, that's too much! I can draw that much by now…!"
"Last time I followed a map Sera drew, I nearly fell into an incinerator. Have it finished within two hours."
After that, Jin gave no further response and powered down.
Left alone, Sera grumbled and picked up a colored pencil.
"Honestly, that's too much. How can a person be so cold… no."
Not a person—.
The strange unease that rose from the words she had let slip unthinking was not because she had realized she was mistaking Jin for a human being. It was because she was worried he might have overheard what she had just said.
"You're… asleep, right?"
She approached him carefully, then let out a breath of relief the moment she saw a mechanical arm peeking its head out from inside the suit.
"Whew… I-I mean, if you're together all the time, it's only natural to start thinking that way, isn't it!"
A high-function AI had more than enough processing power to imitate human intelligence. The boundaries of self, patterns of thought — even the ability to crack a joke — made it hard to tell the difference from a real person.
And then there was the exterior. Even measured against the memory she had just recalled, this was clearly different from an ordinary powered suit. It was not especially tall, and rather than being wrapped in nothing but angular plating, it carried the kind of curves a human body might have, visible throughout. The mix of near-violet purple and black was striking enough, looking up at it, to inspire a kind of awe.
"If you look closely, even the helmet has a rather fine design… no. Actually, more than that…"
The deeper her consciousness sank into the sea of thought, the more her voice lost its strength. In the dark, cold depths that were somehow as snug as the inside of the suit, the truth she found there was almost nothing more than the shape of her lips.
Because Jin was good to her—.
Because he gave her everything she needed. Because he sacrificed everything for her sake. That was why she was drawing this useless-looking picture, and why she made this kind of mistake.
She let out a long breath — and only then noticed the mechanical arm that had drifted up before her eyes.
"…So this is what you wanted after all."
She pushed forward the finger that had slipped lightly between her lips, and a slender thread of light connected them. Watching the mechanical arm latch on as if delighted, Sera hung her head and murmured,
"I wonder… if Jin wants this kind of thing too."
There was no answer. But there was action.
At the sight of the restraints coiling around her waist the same way they did when he gave her the liquid nutrition, Sera felt an emotion as though her heart might burst.