They left through the proper entrance. The enemy signals had disappeared, and it was easy to open the gates from the inside. But 9S’s footsteps were heavy. 2B, who saw his expression from the side, was sure she was making the same expression.
They weren’t able to save the androids that had been modified into weapons. Every android had its circuits fried. They were being compelled to move by the enemy’s system, and had no control of any of their functions. The androids were as good as dead after they were disconnected.
2B hoped, dearly, that they had not been conscious. If they had been awake or had any senses left to them while being used as weapons—how painful that must have been.
“Hey 2B. When I hacked that Machine, this strange voice...” With hesitation, 9S continued, “It had something like emotion, but—” 2B cut off the rest of his sentence with firm resolve.
“The Machines are only selecting words at random.”
They don’t have a consciousness or emotions. They just constantly execute the command to kill.
“That’s what you said,” added 2B.
But what if that wasn’t the case? What if Machines could think, judge, and at times even express emotion? What if they were autonomous inorganic beings that also housed a consciousness or emotions. If that were the case, they were almost like…
It was scary to think it through. That was why 2B used 9S’s words to bring the conversation to a stop. It was probably an unfair way of doing so.
It was okay if it was unfair. Right now, it was 2B’s priority to keep her emotions in check. If she let her guard down, she felt like something inside of her would go crazy. That would complicate their mission.
They walked silently, backs to the theater. The sounds of Machines shooting fireworks could still be heard. The dancing Machines, twirling like tops, were right by them, but took no notice of 2B and 9S.
Or so she had thought. A flying Machine swooped down before them as if to block their way. The Machine spoke faster than 2B could grab her sword.
“I am n0t an enemy.”
Looking closely, 2B saw there was a piece of white cloth fluttering atop its head. In human culture, a white flag signified surrender, but 2B had never seen it used in person. Battles with Machines didn’t end until every last combatant on one side died, so the concept of peaceful surrender was inconceivable.
“Y0u tw0 defeated the br0ken Mach1ne f0r us. Y0u will be rewarded. C0me t0 my village,” said the Machine.
The term “broken machine” was probably referring to the opera singer. It had been trouble for other Machines as well. The words “for us” and “reward” were proof of that.
“To think that a Machine could use so many words,” 9S said, in awe. Type S androids had a strong sense of curiosity. It was quite vital, as their primary function was to perform research. But an excessive curiosity would lead to one’s downfall. 2B knew that better than anyone else.
“We can’t trust the words of a Machine,” said 2B.
2B was concerned that the Machine would not understand her reply. But then she realized her words were geared toward 9S, and to curb his curiosity rather than to reach a mutual understanding with the Machine.
The Machine swung its whole body as if to shake its head.
“We have n0 1ntent1ons t0 f1ght,” it asserted.
9S’s eyes lit up. He did this whenever he saw something novel and unknown.
“I’ve never witnessed a Machine that could communicate to this extent. Let’s follow along to gather data,” said 9S.
2B’s plan to curb his curiosity had backfired. Perhaps this was a good thing. As long as his curiosity was directed at a Machine, 9S was safe. It was infinitely better than taking interest in a forbidden subject and crossing the line…
✦ ✦ ✦
Guided by the flying-type Machine, they left the amusement park. Moving away from the irritating music and fireworks, even the sunlight and whisper of the wind felt gentler.
It wasn’t a coincidence. Soon enough, they were surrounded by trees and shrubbery. The overgrown trees gave the sun’s light a soft glow. Instead of musty air, a breeze with the smell of damp earth and grass passed through. The greenery here created a completely different environment from its counterparts in the city ruins.
Earth was so diverse compared to space, which was just one long stretch of darkness. 2B looked up at the sky and marveled at how much had changed, though they had traveled so little distance. Then she spotted something with a white trail moving through the sky. It was ascending, but it didn’t look like a firework.
“What’s that?” asked 2B.
9S stopped walking and questioned if 2B had never seen it.
“We use that to send materials from Earth to the Bunker or human base. Space doesn’t have any research materials or natural resources like Earth,” explained 9S.
“I see,” said 2B.
She had heard of such a thing, but today was the first day she had seen it in person. It wasn’t something they used frequently, and it was rare for her to have an opportunity to stare at the sky. Type B androids were given the role of combat. Her vision was used to latching on to enemies, not the sky.
Although, even if she wasn’t on a combat mission she wouldn’t be in the mood to look at something like the sky. That was because…
“Th1s way th1s way hurry th1s way,” said the guide.
2B decided to stop thinking. She started running and followed the flying-type Machine. The sound of swaying trees comforted her. The village eventually came into view.
It was easy to see, even from far away, the countless white cloths fluttering in the wind. Upon closer inspection they were all flags. The Machines were waving around white flags of various sizes.
“Does it mean they have no intention of fighting?” asked 9S.
If the Machines were familiar with the significance of the white flag, that was what it meant. They couldn’t ignore the possibility of an ambush after letting their guard down, but it was nonetheless a fact that these Machines had a higher-than-average intelligence. Surrender or ambush—either way, both were actions that took quite a bit of acuity.
“First, we would like you to listen to what we have to say,” said a Machine holding a particularly large flag. It had a unique cylindrical head and a body silhouette that made it look like it was constantly carrying something. Its movements were much more delicate than any Machine 2B had seen before, and its speech was more fluent than their guide’s.
“We are not your enemy. My name is Pascal. I am the leader of this village,” it explained.
2B could feel her eyes widening.
“2B, don’t believe anything a Machine says!” warned 9S.
He was the one who’d wanted to come to the village, but it seemed even he was skeptical of the claims that they were not an enemy. But Pascal kept an ever-gentle tone.
“It’s true. To you, we are Machines and thus we are your enemy. But this village is made of Machines that ran away from battle to advocate peace,” replied Pascal.
Peace. It was a strange word to hear from a Machine.
“We have formed an alliance with the people at the resistance camp as well. If it’s all right with you, please bring this back to the leader, Anemone,” insisted Pascal.
“This is…?” asked 2B.
It was an old model, but it looked like a fuel filter. It certainly wasn’t reminiscent of a disguised bomb.
“Anemone is in need of it. If you give it to her, I’m sure you’ll be able to see that we are a people that come from peace,” said Pascal.
“Roger that,” said 2B.
Pascal was probably not lying about his acquaintance, since he knew about the resistance camp and its leader, Anemone.
“That small path is a shortcut to the city ruins. It’s fairly straightforward from here,” said Pascal.
2B would have to ask Anemone and see if this “alliance” was indeed mutual, or if it was feigned.