Chapter 74
Clunk, clunk. People bustled around packing their gear, preparing to leave, and I watched from afar. The sounds of metal grinding and tools whirring echoed here and there.
"Rabe."
A voice suddenly came from beside me. It was Hermann.
"Mm… well."
Hermann hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"What are your plans now?"
I tilted my head. Plans now? What was there to plan?
"There's still space on the transport. If you need more rest…"
Ah, that kind of thing.
"I'm good."
"I see. You're a mercenary, after all. Understood."
Still, what to do going forward… Normally, a question like that wouldn't faze me at all, but right now, it stirred something uneasy in my chest.
Keep piloting Nexus forever?
What was I even trying to do in a Nexus? Just fight until I died or everything ended, I guess.
It's that simple…
But something about that simplicity left me unsatisfied. Chasing only that would probably lead to burning out eventually.
"By the way, before you go."
Lost in thought with a blank expression, Hermann turned halfway and spoke.
"We're planning to investigate those sky structures further at the Nest. There has to be some record of them. If something that organized existed without any trace, something would be seriously wrong with this world. So, evidence must exist."
"Evidence… you say."
"Yes. It's just the first step, but effort pays off. So… if anything turns up, I'll contact you. That's the gist."
I stared silently at Hermann, and he elaborated.
"You seemed… interested in this sort of thing. I figured you'd be curious."
"Interested?"
"Yes, intrigued. It was one of your rare human-like qualities."
I reflected on the actions I'd shown in front of him. Recalling the past felt awkward and didn't come easily, but a few things surfaced.
Taking that book…
Come to think of it, I always perked up around stuff like that. Just thinking about it now made my heart race a little. Yeah, that must be my thing.
Usually I'm just spacing out.
The contrast probably made it stand out. Feeling awkwardly self-conscious, I averted my gaze and turned my wheelchair.
"Do whatever."
"And Rabe."
Hermann stopped me as I headed for the mobile hangar.
"That interest of yours… it's just interest, right?"
"Huh?"
"No, never mind."
He cut it off teasingly. Hermann shook his head firmly and sent me off.
"See you later if fate allows."
With those words echoing.
Thud… The mobile hangar's hatch closed.
Time to head to the next battlefield.
[Rabe, do you like space?]
Around afternoon. The sky was so thick with dark clouds it was indistinguishable from evening. Sitting in my wheelchair, munching on a chocolate energy bar while reading a space book, SIF spoke up.
"Like it…?"
Saying it out loud felt awkward, so I shut my mouth quick. Replying out loud to a voice in my head felt weird too.
I pondered briefly before answering.
'Dunno. Probably like it, I guess. No idea why.'
If you like it, there must be a reason. Did you read a lot of books as a kid?
'Yeah… kinda like that.'
Fragmented memories flashed by: turning thick pages with small, fern-like hands, flipping stiff paper eagerly.
Then your dream must've been astronaut.
'Dream? What's that…'
Dream… I mulled it over, trying to get used to the word, but it felt utterly distant.
Dreams were the furthest thing from me.
Humans always have dreams. They don't have to be grand. Comfort, peace, a home, money—people wish for those.
'Boring stuff.'
Or 'motivation for action.' Why live today, and tomorrow?
'You download philosophy books or something?'
My half-joking remark got no reply. As I sulked, SIF continued.
Even those desperate to survive dream of peace after trials end. The weary seek rest; the comfortable, challenge.
'I see.'
Rabe, don't you have a dream?
Dream… dream. I chewed it over inwardly.
Adam…
During the skirmish with the 'fake Adam,' words I'd blurted in the heat: 'I want to see the stars.'
A past I couldn't recall. I'd thought that once, maybe. But it felt like someone else's memory—faint, unreal. Just an oh, okay kind of echo, hollow.
[…….]
SIF had nagged so much it felt like my cue to reply, but oddly, silence.
Times like this, it really feels like hallucinations.
Popping in and out of context, just like them.
I'm not a hallucination, Rabe.
I nodded indifferently. Hallucination or not, what did it matter? Nothing in this world mattered to me…
Scrape, rattle.
I set the book down, dragged my languid body to the control panel.
"Hm."
The panel in the middle of the gangway was too high for me in the wheelchair. Luckily, there was a detachable tablet nearby. I grabbed it and fiddled with the simplified screen.
What to do.
Glancing around, my eyes flicked to the armaments crossing the mobile hangar.
Need a hangar.
I settled on that inwardly. Not something flying, just a decent hideout.
No records.
I just hated that. Could draw corporate trackers… Various irrational reasons followed.
Boiled down to preference, so I dropped searching net listings for hangars.
Have to make one myself.
Maybe buy a Nexus auto-maintenance kit and set it up…
Land's the issue then.
Where for land? Remote but livable. Arms crossed, I pondered and decided.
Hunt around myself.
Good. Short-term goal set. I searched systems useful for a hangar.
Minimum price…
Staring at the screen, I gauged the numbers mentally.
…That's steep.
Obvious, maybe. But unexpected, so it startled me.
So pricey… mm.
Installation: SIF could handle ops. Even minimal, it'd shatter five Nexus frames easy.
Need cash.
Obvious conclusion. Ending my brief window shopping, I opened mail.
No-mail days were unthinkable now. Unread piles overflowed.
20% promo… 80% requests.
Total at 99+. Total mess. Any way to sort?
Typically, ranked pilots rarely act solo; they filter via operators. That cleans the inbox.
'Yeah?'
Others used secretaries, huh. I nodded, deciding.
'SIF, you handle it from now on.'
[……What criteria?]
'Dunno, whatever mood…'
Ordering a machine like that? I deflated, correcting.
'Skip traps or junk. Just important stuff.'
Vague still. But SIF'd manage.
Understood. Start now?
'Yeah.'
With a whir— a loading bar popped on the tablet like uploading.
Pop.
In a blink, 70% of inbox vanished.
That many?
Terrorist groups too. Included in cleanup.
Ranked name with no manager draws all sorts. Nodding, I checked remnants.
Promos… SIF spared some health foods, drugs. Obvious intent.
I ignored, scanning requests.
Kaldari…
Alliance, corp mails. Pay varied; attitudes toward mercs obvious.
Amid them, a non-corp mail caught my eye.
'Anon.'