“I noticed that, too.” Sachs said while checking the data log. The amount of data flow far exceeded that of a normal M9, so much so that he almost had to assume a lot of it was junk data. “It means you’ve gotten used to the Laevatein as your body, right?”
《This is merely a theory, but if we assume I am acquiring ‘bodily sensation,’ what would happen if I suddenly grew wings?》
“Well... yeah, it might throw you off.”
《In terms of standard settings alone, the attachment of the XL-3 should be within what the current data bus can handle. But if you account for this more abstract ‘bodily sensation’ concept, it is possible that the data bus is too restrictive.》
“Hmm...”
《Would it be possible to expand the data bus capacity in the current maintenance environment?》
“Not impossible,” Sachs told him, “but our tests suggest the current bus width is acceptable. I don’t think it’ll help solve the issue.”
《If I were a machine, perhaps it wouldn’t.》
Sachs thought for a moment. “Right,” he said. “I think I see what you’re getting at.” He should be thinking of Al as more than just a machine. After all, the liquid metal particles that made up Al and the lambda driver system that connected to him far exceeded anything Sachs could imagine. The thought of increasing the bus width seemed like nonsense at a glance, but it might just solve the problem. Al had plenty of transfer capacity right now, but if Sachs could increase it, it would be very similar to a human brain, right? The work wouldn’t be simple, though, and he’d have to fully shut Al down to do it...
“Let’s try it... is what I’d like to say,” Sachs said slowly, “but we don’t have time.”
《Right.》
“Just give it up. I’ll remove the XL-3. You’ll have to walk or use the aquatic unit to make landfall.”
《A shame.》
This would be a massive blow to the mission’s chance of success, as Al would be making landfall on a beach surely loaded with enemy ambushes and mines. Even with the lambda driver on his side, he was unlikely to be able to withstand everything they’d throw at him.
But... A nasty thought entered Sachs’s mind. No, stop it, Ed. You were gonna get off the ship and go back to Florida with Nora, weren’t you? The kids are waiting. You haven’t eaten mama’s meat pies in a while, either.
But if I can just work things out here...
“Sachs!” Just then, someone called him from across the hangar deck. It was Mardukas, beckoning him over.
“What is it?” Sachs asked.
“You’re staying here,” Mardukas told him. “Captain’s orders.”
Sachs hated that he was relieved to hear it. Okay, he thought next. We’ll leave the thing on. Let’s do this!
All processes on her tablet now read “complete,” and the heads of each department were sending in their reports. The resupply was finished.
“Good.” Tessa nodded and ordered all disembarking crew to gather in the hangar. All the maintenance personnel, logistics officers, and ground units heading for Afghanistan... She had to give them some parting words. It would be their last briefing, and she headed to the hangar with heavy steps.
As Tessa passed through the narrow corridor, she saw small nicks and dents in the walls. The pipes, which used to be cream-colored, were now dingy and brown. It had only been two and a half years since they’d left port, but the vessel looked to have aged significantly in that time.
It’s been a very dense two and a half years, she acknowledged to herself. The day of their maiden voyage, when she’d sat in the captain’s chair in the control room and ordered all systems active, seemed so long ago now. At age fifteen, she had been so full of ambition and confidence. She’d believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that no matter what the difficulty, no matter how strong the enemy, she would overcome.
But... look at her now. They’d overcome much indeed, but she’d wound up battered and exhausted for her troubles, gnawed to the bone by insecurities and self-destructive impulses. “Any more of this and I...” she muttered to herself, and then quickly thought, No, stop that. You have to get a grip.
Tessa entered the hangar and found close to two hundred of her subordinates standing there in neat rows. She knew each of them on sight, and she could see Mao and Clouseau in the front line, as well. Their faces were drawn and stern, but they were unable to hide their nervousness about what was coming.
“Atten-SHUN!” Mardukas commanded. They all immediately snapped to attention as Tessa walked before them briskly. In front of her was a small shipping container that would serve as a stage and a ramp that led up to it. She had to climb up and then face them undaunted.
Look alive, she ordered herself sternly. Show them a picture of confidence: back straight; chin up; eyes forward. Make them think you know just what you’re doing; that everything will go well; that victory is nigh. Show them a commander brimming with wisdom and strength. The witch of Mithril, who has overcome every danger and tormented our enemies.
Don’t show weakness, she reminded herself. Don’t flatter them. Just smoothly ascend to that stage and look down at them. Make it clear to them who you are, what you can do...
Then her foot caught on the ramp.
“Ah...?” Tessa asked in surprise, as she felt her balance slipping away. Everything she did to try to right herself made things worse, and she ended up leaping onto the stage, arms high in the air like a gymnast, before falling flat on her face.