by Jun Eishima
The close-combat weapon flashed, slicing through the sandstorm. A Type-40 combat sword. A state-of-the-art weapon issued only to the elite forces on the front lines. The blade, crackling with electricity, burst and sent a semispherical object flying through the air in an arc.
A now-decapitated machine stopped moving. A few seconds later, its cylindrical body fell on its side in the sand and exploded, shrapnel showering two previously destroyed bodies in the vicinity.
After the explosion and shock wave, all that was left was the unique sound of the sirocco, the desert wind.
The dust eventually lifted, revealing a human silhouette. From the smooth outline of the shoulders, the tight waist, and the alluring legs that emerged from a short skirt, the silhouette clearly belonged to that of an adult woman.
All she could hear was the dry howl of wind. She couldn’t hear any Machines, animals, or voices of humans. Well, to be precise, not the voices of humans, but of androids. In fact, she would never hear the voices of humans on Earth.
Humanity had pretty much left Earth. Due to the alien invasion, they had to flee to the moon. The Earth was at this point a war zone between the Machines, which were the minions of aliens, and the androids, who were sent to destroy them.
2B sheathed her sword as she called out behind her.
“Was that all?”
Responding to her question, Pod 042, which had been floating about ten feet in the air, lowered closer to the ground.
“Affirmative: No enemy responses detected within a five-kilometer radius.”
“I see,” 2B mumbled, as she approached the access point. Such points were disguised as human artifacts that were once called “vending machines,” and provided transmission capabilities.
2B had come here to read some mail. But before that she had to go through the procedures, which was to destroy the Machines that gathered around the access point.
Even if the access point was disguised as a rusty artifact, Machines somehow knew that it was an important apparatus. Whether it be in the corner of a ruin or in the middle of a desert, the Machines gathered around it as if they were trying to prevent transmissions and intel collection. They didn’t have a shred of intelligence, but they were crafty in strange ways. They were cunning to an annoying extent.
On top of that, no matter how many times they were destroyed, they just kept coming back. That tenacity was irritating. YoRHa squadron members were prohibited from having emotions, but she was still irritated. Especially when there was an important message to read, like today.
Either way, 2B could finally attend to her original errand. She opened her mail inbox on the display, and opened a newly received email. She had read the sender, the classification of top secret, and some of the message, when—
“2B!”
Suddenly appearing out of nowhere was Type S No. 9, aka 9S. While he was a YoRHa android, he wasn’t modeled after an adult woman like 2B, but instead a teenage boy.
“Is that mail from Command?”
“No,” 2B replied, trying to act casually.
“Anyway, why?”
“What? What are you talking about, 2B?”
“There should still be time before our mission begins.”
2B had headed to the access point early because she’d received a mail notification from Pod. Even though it took her some time to clear the Machines, she had planned on reading through the message before 9S arrived.
“Well, I heard from the operator that 2B was in battle, so I thought I’d come in as support.”
“No need to worry about me.”
2B lightly shook her head, wanting to get rid of either irritation or panic.
“I guess.”
9S dropped his shoulders with an exaggerated motion. Now she realized what feeling she wanted to get rid of. Their past conversations and experiences—she wanted to get rid of her memories of them.
“Well, since we were able to meet up, let’s head toward the destination.”
It was a déjà vu.
“Ugh. More sand got in.”
He couldn’t learn to like the desert. It was the sand. If the wind blew it obstructed his vision and annoyed him, and if he walked it got in his shoes. It was kind of fun sliding down dunes, but otherwise the footing was poor and made it hard to walk. 9S scowled and looked at 2B, who was next to him. She was walking normally, without raising a brow.
“Doesn’t it bother you, 2B?”
“What?”
“Aren’t your shoes full of sand as well?”
“While it’s uncomfortable, it doesn’t disturb my walking, so …”
“Having sand in your shoes feels disgusting, doesn’t it? It doesn’t disturb my walking, but it’s a matter of sanity.”
“We are prohibited from having emotion.”
“Roooger.”
Although he agreed, he carried on the argument in his head. 2B should be the last person to say that, he thought.
2B didn’t control her emotions as well as she thought. At least, that’s what 9S thought. Her catchphrase of “we are prohibited from having emotion” was probably more directed at herself than 9S. By saying that out loud, she was scolding herself. It was something the solemn 2B would do.
She doesn’t have to try that hard, thought 9S. She could say it and still disagree with it at heart. Besides, how many YoRHa squadron members actually adhered to the rule?
But even if 9S said all of this, 2B wouldn’t change her ways. 2B didn’t have the dexterity to separate what she said and what she felt.
9S looked over at 2B’s profile again. He saw a glimpse of something on her taut lips. 2B was also bad at hiding secrets.
“Nines?”
2B looked puzzled. She was probably caught off guard by his incessant staring.
“Uh. Nothing … just thinking since it’s so dusty and hot it would be nice to take a bath.”
That wasn’t it. He wanted to say something else.
“We don’t need to bathe.”
“Right …”
What are you hiding? Recently you seem a bit down? Are you worried, or?
Even if he asked she probably wouldn’t answer. He already knew that, after operating with her for a few months. Instead of his questions, 9S tried exclaiming, “Oh!”
“Could that be our mission subject this time?”
A giant shadow of what looked like a building loomed beyond the sandstorm. The end of the desert was near.
“Affirmative: That massive building is the main subject of this research mission.”
Pod answered from the side. It was 9S’s support unit, Pod 153. 2B’s support unit, Pod 042, was silently floating behind her.
“Apparently it’s called a temple. It’s official name was “The Stone Temple,” I think? People brought a statue of a god or something, and it started to be used as a temple.”
There was a silence. 2B’s mouth was stuck in a half-open position.
“2B? Is something wrong?”