Chapter 130
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 130
Chapter Title: #Golden Gate (3)
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The conversation kept breaking off and picking up again. It was a good way to relieve the boredom of the slow ship's journey. April Pacific had become a topic they were intentionally avoiding. Even regarding that ship's final moments.
The setting sun dyed the sea. For once, there was no fog, and the Golden Gate sparkled gold, just like its name. The waterway narrowed toward the Golden Gate Bridge. Red cliffs curved to the north. The batteries constructed on the high ground were impressive. More than ten heavy artillery pieces were aimed at the sea.
Winter, benefiting from vision correction, could even make out soldiers jogging along the ridgeline. Their climb up the slope looked grueling. The high ground they were heading toward had outposts and flagpoles. The national flag rippled in the wind. It was large enough to spot from anywhere in the strait.
The same flag was visible to the south as well. The U.S. military had seized both shores connected by the bridge.
‘How?’
Winter felt a perfectly natural question arise.
“Anne. Was there a base like that? I don’t think I saw it on the broadcasts. And I’ve never heard about it otherwise.”
The San Francisco Bay Area was the origin point of the North American infection. The U.S. military had been harshly driven back from here. Establishing a bridgehead, then, was a symbolic event. There was no reason for the authorities not to boast about it. The media, starved for good news, went without saying.
“It probably is. It’s still a secret, though.”
“Why?”
Joanna countered with a playful tone.
“Want to take a guess?”
Hmm. Winter furrowed his brow in thought. It would help if he could see the full extent of the base. Whether it had runways, the quality of its facilities, the size of the garrisoned troops, the types of equipment deployed, and so on. But right now, only the sea-facing portion was visible.
No. Those details probably weren’t the key. Winter reconsidered. Joanna wasn’t the type to engage in pointless teasing. She’d told him to guess because it was guessable. Perhaps she was testing his abilities. Even if not, it was a chance to make a good impression. She’d already dropped a small hint.
‘Still a secret, huh?’
Was something not ready yet? Could he interpret it as meaning it would be revealed when the time was right? The only reason for an embargo was public opinion. The variants weren’t watching TV, after all. No evidence had been found that Tricksters could understand human language. If they could, the front lines would have been in utter chaos by now.
The election. Right, that was a factor too. Even Operation Clear Liberation had been influenced by political conditions. Was the plan to reveal it at a decisive moment? People would definitely go wild...
On the verge of mentioning election strategy, Winter closed his mouth. The FBI agent watching him with keen interest.
“Something come to mind?”
“I was thinking election strategy, but even if that’s right, it doesn’t seem like the biggest reason.”
“Why not?”
“Because it would be a problem if public opinion boiled over and became uncontrollable.”
“And why do you think that?”
“There are too many people in this city.”
Winter wasn’t referring to the maritime refugees. He meant the San Francisco citizens still holding out, isolated in the urban districts. If word got out about this base, calls to rescue the stranded civilians would inevitably arise.
“Estimated at 800,000, right? That’s for the entire contaminated zone, but for a metropolis this size, at least 100,000. I doubt the base has the capacity to take them in. And the resources needed for the rescue... They’d require a massive number of helicopters. It would throw a wrench in preparations for Operation Clear Liberation, and that’s the most decisive factor for the election.”
San Francisco, Oakland, San Jose, and so on. The major cities ringing the bay formed a single megalopolis. How many helicopters would it take to transport 100,000 people? Military aircraft maintenance was no small task either. Factoring in range, they’d need to be stationed there for a while. It would be a serious waste of resources.
The FBI investigator raised a counterpoint with an intrigued expression.
“Wouldn’t that actually reduce the airlift burden by that much?”
The United States dropped 5,000 tons of supplies daily into contaminated areas. Enough to sustain 2 million lives. But the estimated survivor count was only 800,000. And most of them suffered from shortages.
Because the supplies were parachuted in. More than half landed in unwanted locations. Even in San Francisco alone, the survivors were scattered like points across this vast city.
‘Toughest cases are when they’re hunkered down in a single building.’
It was something he’d heard repeatedly. Plenty of people to accommodate, but the drop zones were too narrow.
Places like this called for helicopters. Even considering airlift efficiency, they had to extract people from spots like these. Winter had long wondered about it. Was there a reason they weren’t doing it? Were helicopters that scarce? Or were they worried that defenses would crumble mid-rescue due to reduced numbers...
Winter gave his answer.
“The roles of helicopters and transport planes are different. You can’t just use transports in place of helicopters to conserve them. Anyway, the Wooden Wonder isn’t a helicopter. Oh, look—one’s flying over there right now.”
Do It Yourself for patriots. The wooden transport plane featured on TV was crossing the skyline of the decaying city. Soon, it dropped its cargo from low altitude. The pilot circled the deployed parachute. Probably checking if it had landed properly.
The slow-moving aircraft changed direction. Satisfied, perhaps? Winter continued where he left off.
“To accommodate that many helicopters, the base itself would need to change. The facilities would take on a completely different character. If this base was prepared for Operation Clear Liberation, wouldn’t that put them in a tough spot? There’s not even two months left now. And above all, it’d be hard for it to function properly while taking in survivors.”
On the other hand, ignoring calls for rescue would tank approval ratings, so they had no choice but to keep quiet about the base. Once Winter laid it out like that, Joanna smiled softly.
“Excellent judgment. You’re even more remarkable the more I learn about you, Winter.”
Your personality surprises me more than your talents. How can someone like you exist? To her calm praise, Winter offered a smile that wasn’t fully ripened. Just shy enough, just pleased enough.
‘This should be sufficient?’
He felt a faint anxiety every time he crafted an expression. It was due to the FBI supervisor’s competence. That casual attitude while analyzing the April Pacific maniac. Her expertise in reading people.
Those with deep Insight could sometimes pierce through fabricated emotions. He’d experienced it in the first few iterations of the world, but not since. These days felt especially hollow, though. His insides were so empty that he needed thicker smoke. It made him cautious around a knowledgeable agent like her. If she Discerned him, it would breed distrust.
That was why he’d tried not to dwell on it last night. He feared the stone inside would be found out. The governor had poked at it too much.
Joanna leaned against the railing and gazed at the San Francisco cityscape.
“You’re right. We’re worried about public opinion spiraling out of control. But there are other reasons too.”
“What are they?”
“If you remember your confidentiality oath, I’ll tell you.”
Winter tilted his head and pulled out his smartphone from his pocket.
“Even if I wanted to leak it, I couldn’t, right? You’re all monitoring everything. Even if I told those around me, the impact would be limited. You can rest easy about me. I never planned to go around blabbing in the first place.”
There was signal in this area. Meaning a Nett Warrior relay—the military smartphone network—was nearby. He’d expected as much. Would a joint CIA-special forces operation site really lack a comms network?
What he’d hoped for was contact with the Winter Alliance. But he couldn’t. There was signal, but restrictions on communication. Well, it was a military network. Setting permissions per device would be trivial. In the U.S., even tanks required a network password separate from ignition.
Joanna looked puzzled.
“If it’s all right, may I take a quick look?”
She fiddled with the device and confirmed that most functions were locked.
“I’m sorry. Even as an FBI agent, I don’t know everything. I didn’t expect it to be like this. The active applications are all combat support features?”
“Yes. Ballistic drop calculators, coordinate generators, video reporting systems, fire support networks, that sort of thing.”
“It wasn’t like this before... Everything changed so much since the Quarantine War, features included. My apologies. That must have been unpleasant. I only meant to remind you of the secrecy.”
Patriots get treated like trash. As she muttered, Winter shook his head.
“No, not at all. Don’t worry about it. This is probably the best way. I actually feel more at ease this way.”
Better than inviting unnecessary suspicion. With that reply, Winter tucked away the phone he’d gotten back.
“So, what’s the other reason?”
“It’s an informal hypothesis, but it seems the variants are deliberately keeping survivors alive within the contaminated zones.”
“Deliberately?”
“Based on recon results so far, variants don’t aggressively attack survivor groups in urban areas. Even though their numbers are growing daily from the ones advancing north from South America, their aggression has actually decreased.”
“That’s odd. It wasn’t like that with the base.”
“Exactly. If they attacked civilians at the same intensity as military bases, there shouldn’t be many survivors left in the contaminated zones by now.”
Winter recalled San Diego from TV broadcasts. Even North Island Base, stronghold of the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force, had no quiet days from the variants’ fierce assaults. Yet in the cityscape across the bay, hadn’t civilians been flying flags? No matter how armed they were, civilians couldn’t be stronger than the military.
It had always felt off. But it wasn’t a pressing issue for Winter. Just a story unfolding off-stage. Until now, he’d chalked it up to choice and focus. The instinct to strike strong enemies when they had strength to spare. Illogical, sure. But variants couldn’t be fully understood. That was as far as Winter’s acceptance went.
After mulling it over, Winter nodded.
“The motive’s food, then.”
“Exactly. They scavenge the misdropped supplies. Like ants keeping aphids alive.”
“So they’ve grasped the causal link between supply airlifts and survivor groups... Not surprising. If that hypothesis holds, rescuing civilians would be extremely tricky.”
No way the variants would just let them go. Unless they rescued them all at once, the process would create vulnerabilities—as expected.
“We’ve already tried it several times.”
Her complexion soured. The outcome was obvious without asking.
The beautiful scenery came to an abrupt end.
The wind shifted. What had been blowing from sea to bay reversed. A severe stench rolled in. The chaotic mix of fishy, raw, and rotten smells.
The closer they got to the bay, the clearer the stench’s source became. The bay was filled to the brim with ships of every size. Countless anchored vessels formed a single floating city. Chains, nets, and ropes bound them together. They served as paths for people to move between. The gaudy national flags strung up everywhere were striking.
Trash discarded from the city had washed up all the way under the Golden Gate Bridge. Human corpses were plentiful among it. Perhaps some were dormant variants.
Didadadadat—
Gunfire rang out sharply. From multiple directions. Snippets of someone’s screams rode the wind.
Gazing at the watery city rippling with the waves, Winter thought.
No pleasant happenings here either.
============================ Author's Note ============================
#Q&A
Q. Flower Petal Point-nim: Does Zakkanim like sea mustard?
A. I’ve never tried it. I’ve heard it’s like thin seaweed.
Q. Omission-nim: You said you were quitting smoking... Is that the sound of you gaining weight reaching all the way here just my imagination?
A. I’ve never touched cigarettes in my life. Maybe you’re confusing me with another author?
Q. RGZ95-nim: @ If I click high ratings, the author will appear in my dreams and boost my Sanchi! Tekeli-li...
A. Does RGZ95-nim need some Sanchi too? Hmm. Probably not...
Q. Just So-So-nim: @ Unfortunately, I’m not the 46th... If the author appeared in my dreams, I’d go kyaaack guaaack... Too bad.
A. Heh heh. Sound sleep is one of life’s great joys. No need to meet me in your dreams.
Q. Peach Blossom Garden-nim: @ Seems like the author knew you’re a pure soul and came looking... What? You’ve been a Crypt of the Little Prince fan all along??
A. Ah, how foolish I am... I completely forgot that there are no good people among this novel’s readers...
Q. Returner-nim: @ I heard the way to make contact with the author in Dreamland is to do Naver star rating terrorism—is that true?
A. Keep using that method, and the author will depart for Dreamland. Forever... ㅠㅠ
Q. qgegegqe-nim: What logic came up with the 46th!?
A. (Average rating of first 45 * 45 + X) / 46 = average rating up to 46th
Just solve for X. Middle school level arithmetic. :)