“…Why were you kicked out?” Haikunterke asked. Shido’s story had ended rather abruptly.
He looked down in a daze and answered, “I don’t know. It was very sudden at the end. Felt like waking up from a long dream. I’d lived in that little village in the country for so long that I wasn’t sure which part had been the dream at first. Did the Dodger Alliance really exist? Did Keiha? Had I hallucinated the entire experience when I was exiled from the village? I was on the run from the automated turnstiles, and once I saw the Seto Inland Sea, I was finally able to accept that all of it was real.”
“You mean when all of your Suikas were rendered illegitimate.”
“From what I know, at the very least, turnstiles will exile individuals who have committed crimes, but they’ve never rolled up an entire group to kick them out as one,” Shido said.
Such an event did not appear in JR North Japan’s accumulated knowledge of Inside, either. For one thing, an “organization” was such an intangible concept that for Yokohama Station to selectively exile all of its members meant it possessed some means of understanding and tracking the interpersonal relationships of its residents. And that was a very frightening hypothesis to consider.
But there was no point in telling this man that.
“What was she trying to do anyway?” wondered Haikunterke. The rain was still falling heavily outside, filling the container’s interior with uneasy noise, as there was almost nothing to absorb it.
“That was a mystery to me, too. I was with Keiha from the start to the collapse of the alliance, and she never once spoke about what her goals were. The other members talked of liberation from Yokohama Station’s rule, but she wasn’t the type of person to dream about things like that.”
All of his experiences with her had taught him that. Keiha’s ability with technology surpassed even her father’s, but she didn’t seem to share his interest in expansive, long-term plans, like transforming all of Yokohama Station’s economy. All she did was collect the things she saw and judged to be necessary to her. Shido was more or less the number two man in the alliance, and it seemed like he was only in that position because he happened to be the first person to visit her home.
“After being exiled from Yokohama Station, I started to figure it out, though. I think she just wanted to protect herself. The machinations of a number of different groups within the city intersected in a way that got her father killed. She realized that the system governed by automated turnstiles wouldn’t protect her or her family. So to her, taking over the entire city was the very minimum amount of self-defense she needed to feel secure.”
“And the result was that she made an enemy out of Yokohama Station itself.”
“Yes. So I feel certain that Keiha’s out there somewhere, plotting how to defeat Yokohama Station. That’s what she feels she needs to do now,” Shido stated, quite seriously. Haikunterke almost burst into laughter. Fortunately, she was incapable of producing such an advanced emotional demonstration; she merely scrunched up her cheeks and nose in an odd way.
“That’s impossible, even with extremely powerful methods of Suikanet interference. You can’t destroy hardware by being knowledgeable about the software.”
Especially not as an individual. Up north, they’d spent years and years fighting just to keep Yokohama Station isolated to the Seikan Tunnel.
“You aren’t really from Shikoku, are you?” Shido asked Haikunterke. “You know a lot about the net and automated turnstiles. There’s no way someone from there would understand so much, especially a child. Were you born Inside, too?”
“…No.”
“Would you be willing to tell me who you really are?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”
“All right. Sorry if I was being insensitive.”
They fell silent. For a long time, there was only the rain.
“Just let me ask one thing,” she said.
“Yes?”
“At the end of your story, Keiha was investigating that strange exit near the volcano, wasn’t she?”
“That’s right. She called it Exit 42.”
Haikunterke had a feeling that was the case. In the process of learning more about the exit, she came into contact with something that wasn’t meant to be found, and that’s why she was exiled from Inside, along with anyone connected to her.
But it was a truth too cruel to tell this man. He still believed the woman’s guarantee that she would find a solution.
Several nights later, Haikunterke returned to the house with her data collection on the station spore more or less complete and found Shido burning up with fever. He’d been in poor health to begin with, but even he admitted that this was worse than he’d ever experienced before.
“I’ve been kicked out of all sorts of places. Guess the only place left to get kicked out of is life itself,” he said bitterly.
“Don’t speak. Here’s some water.”
Haikunterke was worried. Her supplemental memory device contained a passing amount of medical knowledge. Still, the android hadn’t expected she’d need to make use of it at all Inside and had seldom reflected upon it. She’d have to read and affix it to her main memory from scratch. It would be like operating an unfamiliar machine with only a hefty manual for reference.
What would Samayunkur do? she wondered, as she had often done Inside. She didn’t have the luxury to stop and consider it this time. Haikunterke consulted Shido’s symptoms.
“I think it’s a cellular disease—the kind with insects or birds as a vector. There’s only one human being on this island, after all,” she said briefly. Shido’s wits were hazy, but it seemed as though the look in his eyes was one of understanding. “There are multiple potential affliction names, but the particular cures for all of them are unlikely to be available on this island. They weren’t among the matter that building produces, either.”
Shido smiled, his face bright.
“I see. Uh-huh. That seems right.” He paused for a moment. “Thank you, Terke. I enjoyed getting the chance to talk to someone again.”
Then he drank a bit of water and slowly fell unconscious.
Haikunterke remained in contact with her supplemental memory device, doing everything she possibly could to counteract the symptoms of the general type of infection Shido had. After a while, the android began to wonder why she was doing so much to take care of this human. She’d only been playing the role of an escaped girl from Shikoku to investigate the spore without attracting suspicion.
Once she’d done all she could, Haikunterke sat a short distance away from the bed and whispered, “You probably can’t hear me anymore, but I’ll tell you about myself.” Shido gave no reaction, and she continued, “I’m a saboteur sent from JR North Japan. I was built to resemble a human being, but my body is entirely mechanical.
“Our headquarters has been fighting for ages to protect our land from the expansion of Yokohama Station. Our technology has developed greatly over the years, and we can now create weapons that destroy the station structure and android agents capable of reaching the other side of the station. My companions are all over Inside, searching for a way to stop Yokohama Station from advancing. My mission brought me all this way.
“However, it doesn’t seem like there is a way to end it. The structural genetic field continues to evolve, and the more our tech advances, the more resources we expend. We’re going to run out of options soon. It’s causing the relationship between engineering and the other divisions to worsen.”
Haikunterke stopped to think for a second.
“I’ve never had the desire to preserve or protect myself. I was born with a purpose to fulfill. Survival is merely a means to achieve my mission. But living things aren’t like that. Because existence itself is the goal, life has flourished on this planet for billions of years. Which do you suppose is better?”
“…Ahh.”
Shido’s mouth moved. Haikunterke stopped talking.
“Oh, Keiha. Where are you now? I want to see you…”
He seemed to be muttering incoherently.
When the sun rose the next day, Haikunterke carried the raft she’d beached on the hill down to the island’s southern shore.
Her data collection of the station spore was complete, and she’d spent more than enough time for Suikanet’s immune memory of her to fade. There was no reason to stay any longer. Next, she needed to land on Shikoku and cross the Great Seto Bridge to investigate and confirm the present expansion of the station. Most importantly of all, she could not simply sit around with nothing to do, because it was a waste of the special body she’d been granted.
“I don’t think it’ll work,” she said, facing the direction of the container house where Shido slept. His fever had receded, and she’d left him some water and food, so he would be able to manage from there.
But my guesses are usually wrong. I hope you see her again, she thought.
As Haikunterke surrendered to the current of the Seto Inland Sea, she pondered what it meant when human beings prayed.