The investigation into the Actaeon was only beginning, so it would take time before official news of it would be passed along to the military and the populace. Still, two of the Strike Package’s officers had been arrested. The Strike Package members needed an explanation as to what happened. And their reaction to what they heard were expressions of speechless disgust.
“…So that’s why we found labs and operation tables in the internment camps during the Republic Relief Expedition,” Siri spat out bitterly.
“First, human wiretaps, and now a suicide-bomb virus. What the hell is the Republic thinking…?” Marcel grumbled.
“It was originally supposed to be research on fertilizer,” the head of the Reginleif research team said gravely. “It’s really…offensive, you know?”
As an agricultural power, the Republic was an expert in para-bio technology. Researching nitrogen-fixation bacteria enzymes made sense, since they produced useful fertilizer, but they ended up creating the human-bomb virus as a by-product of that research. For researchers who’d initially been devoted to providing an abundance of food for the people, veering off in such a direction was indeed blasphemy.
Incidentally, the other by-products of their research were the agricultural growth plants that’d been used in the Republic, United Kingdom, and Alliance since before the war, but that was neither here nor there.
“Oh, and, Second Lieutenant Marcel, the Dear cells aren’t an actual virus, so they’re not infectious. As far as we know, at least.”
Unlike a virus, the Dear cells didn’t self-replicate, instead producing nitroglycerin. As a result, they didn’t diffuse inside the Actaeon’s bodies or infect other bodies.
“We’re still waiting for the documents we seized to be fully examined, but as far as we know, they weren’t made to be contagious, so they wouldn’t spread through the Republic. Infectious biological weaponry doesn’t distinguish between friend or foe, making it hard to use. And especially with cells that turn a body into a bomb, the Republic won’t make them contagious even if there was a prophylactic treatment or a cure for them. It would be a risk to the Republic citizens themselves.”
“…?” Marcel looked shocked for a moment, but then nodded. “…Oh, I see. The Republic people wouldn’t want to be infected by the cells themselves, and even if they did, the risk of people next to them becoming a bomb would mean they could get caught in the blast, so they’d want to prevent other people from getting infected, too.”
“And the Actaeon did live with their new families for a year, and they were fine. A year is a pretty long incubation period for a biological weapon, and like First Lieutenant Shion just said, an operation was required to bring in the cells, so it’s highly unlikely they’re infectious… Oh, but, First Lieutenant Shion, do you remember any details about those facilities? Can you explain what you saw? Or maybe there’s gun-camera footage we can use…”
The head of research leaned in eagerly, likely hoping to gain information. Siri grimaced as he answered, and feeling unable to stay there any longer, Dustin silently got up from his seat and left the conference room.
✦ ✦ ✦
After leaving, Dustin blindly walked around the corridors of the base, but it wouldn’t take him to the person he wanted to find. Even so, he felt urged by something and walked around aimlessly with fast steps.
One of the girls who were on the run, one of the Actaeon who caused the serial bombings, was his childhood friend, Citri Oki.
Dustin never knew she found refuge in the Federacy. He’d unconsciously assumed she died and never searched for her, but now she’d likely been turned into one of the Actaeon suicide weapons.
Where was Citri now? Why were the Actaeon causing these bombings? Was she out there somewhere, seeking help?
I… Shouldn’t I be out there? Shouldn’t I find her, keep her from exploding, and actually save her this time…?!
Driven by impatience, he turned a corner without looking ahead and nearly bumped into someone. Second Lieutenant Perschmann, who managed to avoid him at the last second, glared at him with reproach. However, the emotion in her calm, green eyes soon turned to concern.
“What’s wrong, Second Lieutenant Jaeger? You look terrible.”
“Nothing… Sorry.”
He must have appeared quite driven against the wall if she said that, but he had no idea how to explain it. He simply shook his head vaguely, and Perschmann seemed to understand his confusion. With a concerned expression, she took a wrapped caramel candy from her pocket, forced it into his fingers, and left.
Anju, who’d caught up to him since he stopped in his tracks, raised her voice instead.
“…Dustin.”
Right now, he didn’t want to turn and face this voice. Dustin stood stock-still, turned away from her. He had no doubt that she was looking at him with her pretty blue eyes, bluer than the highest point in the sky, as she spoke with a kind tone, like she was gently touching an open wound.
…Much like Citri’s eyes. Those pretty violet eyes that reminded him of the dawning sky.
“Do you know any of the Actaeon? Is it that girl you mentioned before? Citri.”
“She was my friend… My next-door neighbor and childhood friend.”
Dustin absentmindedly added that clarification, but it still made Anju gulp quietly. Dustin didn’t notice it.
“She was always a nice girl. There’s no way Citri would want to do anything like a bombing. She must be out there, looking for help. And even if she isn’t…she wouldn’t want to die in an explosion.”
Right.
“I want to…save her, somehow.”
Even though he didn’t know where Citri was or if she was still safe.
Without noticing it, he’d gripped and crushed the caramel candy in his hand.
✦ ✦ ✦
Wary of a counterattack from the Kampf Pfau, which were capable of a similar range as them, the Morpho only fired short sporadic barrages every time, but even those short barrages were a major threat to the civilians living in the territories. This meant that unlike the first large-scale offensive, an operation to eliminate the Morpho wasn’t immediately issued.
The stress of being helpless in the face of enemy fire that could come at any time haunted the civilians of the territories nonstop. Flocks of independent evacuees swarmed away from their territories to the safer central and capital area.
A queue of vehicles carrying reservists on their way to the battlefield happened upon evacuees who, upon traveling the unfamiliar roads of the central region with trucks overloaded with supply materials, had gotten their vehicles stuck in a ditch. The reservists stepped outside to assist.
“…Looks like you won’t be able to get it out on your own. Hey, get a car over here. Let’s help them tow it out.”
“Which territory are you from, old man? Oh! I’m from there, too. What village?”
“Oh, thank you, good soldier. You really helped us out. Imagine running into a local all the way out here…”
As they noisily pulled the truck out of the ditch, they chatted about their home village.
“All right, old man, all of you take care on your journey!”
“You too, good soldier. Take care of yourselves!”
They waved at each other as if they were family. The evacuees and reservists parted ways, pondering about how good it was to meet a fellow local.