▼ 1:59 pm
Area 5, Outer Ring
Infirmary
BUT we’re thunderstruck when we arrive.
“Wh-What the hell happened here…?!”
Tachibana isn’t in the room. But that’s not what made my blood run cold. Before we left, we put aside the remaining twenty AD, only—all of it is gone!
“Wh-Where the hell did the AD go?!”
The five of us turn the room upside down looking. Torn bits of paper litter the floor in place of the AD. I pick up a scrap that reads, “Dear Mr. Tenkawa, Miss Toba, and Miss Sannomiya.”
Someone angrily tore up Miss Ena’s note.
“No, I don’t believe it… Why?” Miss Ena weakly mutters.
I stand there stunned. The absurdity of what just happened numbs my ability to think. We have only one AD each. Without AD, we will inevitably be exposed to radiation.
One look at the Procyon and the reading only adds to our despair—5,839 mSv. It’s come to the point where we’re being exposed to radiation levels at the first danger standard or higher anywhere we go.
Tachibana previously went an hour with a partial dose of AD, and she complained of feeling unwell. What’s worse is that the contamination is on a whole other level now. At this rate, we’re going to hit the second danger standard in no time. A life-threatening dose of radiation is going to come down on everyone the second our AD wears off.
“Damn it all! How the hell did this happen?!” I let out a loud stream of curses.
Why have terrible things been happening one after the other down here? I sink my teeth into my bottom lip.
“Do you even have to ask?” Moribe pipes up beside me. “The answer’s as clear as day, Captain… Someone made off with our AD.” She runs a needling gaze over each member of our group.
I gasp at the distrust burning in her eyes. “D-Don’t jump to conclusions, Moribe. Are you implying the culprit is a part of our group?”
“Face it, whoever did it intentionally ripped up the note left for Tenkawa and the girls. I don’t know the kids well, but I don’t believe they’d do that.”
“…!”
“So isn’t it only logical to assume the culprit is one of us? I mean, can any of you prove your alibi?” Moribe’s threatening voice trips me up.
Miss Ena sighs. “…Ms. Moribe, none of us have a solid alibi—you know that as well as any of us. Each of us acted independently at one point. But the same applies to you.”
“How?”
“You have no one to back up your story of what you were doing the whole time between when you got electrocuted in Area 6 until you met up with us again, do you?”
“D-Don’t be ridiculous. You know I was resting in Area 6, Ms. Tsubakiyama.”
“What if you recovered right away? They always say the first to point their finger is the most likely suspect.”
“Huh?! Who made that nonsense up? Are you suggesting I hid the AD for myself?”
“We can’t deny the possibility, now can we?”
“…SCREW YOU!” Moribe screeches in an ear-piercing voice. She stomps right up to a flinching Miss Ena and yells in her face. “How does that benefit me, huh?! I’m a rescue worker! The pay sucks! The work is backbreaking! Why do you think I do a job that gets barely any recognition from the public when the pay is dismal and the workload is miserable?!”
She grabs Miss Ena’s collar and snaps at her. “Because I want to help people! Every time I go out onto the job I have to jump into flaming infernos and have constant near-death experiences, but I still do it because I want to save lives! You’re questioning me, SIRIUS’s Jun Moribe, the woman who goes through hell to save people, if I hid some damn AD? You can shove your mockery of my post up your ass!”
It was a cutthroat display. Moribe’s shoulders are rising and falling with her ragged breathing, and tears mist her eyes.
Miss Ena is speechless. After a few moments, she apologetically lowers her head. “I-I’m sorry… Y-You’ve been putting your life on the line for your work.”
“Damn straight. And I hope to continue doing so forever.”
“That sounds pretty on paper, but who’s to say all rescue workers think the same as you?” Ukita quietly demurs.
“…Excuse me?” Moribe shoots him a skeptical look.
Undisturbed, he goes on: “Occupational ethics and personal opinions do not always match. Some people prefer to stick religiously to their personal ideology rather than duty.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Mr. Ukita? Are you implying the traitor is among SIRIUS’s ranks?”
“We can’t turn a blind eye to the possibility.”
“This coming from the man who was rescued by us just last week?! You’ve got guts making implications in front of us!”
“No, wait, that’s not what I’m trying to say—”
Not wanting to sit through another quarrel, I shout over the lot of them. “Enough! Cut the crap, guys!” They all turn and look at me. “What’s the big deal about the note being torn up?! One of the survivors might have just taken the AD with them! You’re all in the wrong for doubting the only people who have your back without proof!”
“Then how do you propose we obtain proof?!”
I ponder Ukita’s irate question for a moment before answering. “By using the surveillance room. Tachibana has been watching the cameras there. They might have picked up on something.”
I told Tachibana to return to the infirmary once she felt better. She’s likely still in the surveillance room.
“Did you forget the majority of cameras are broken?” Ukita points out.
“The majority isn’t all of them, is it? In which case, it’s worth a look. A much better use of our time than jumping down each other’s throats here.”
The three of them fall silent with that. Moribe finally looks around the group and concedes, “Fine, Captain. Let’s head to the surveillance room. But if the culprit is among us, then I’ll—”
“The culprit isn’t among us, Moribe. We’re going to obtain proof that our group members are trustworthy.”
No one agrees with me.
Even at odds, we hurry to the surveillance room where Tachibana is.