[FIC] The Scale of Anubis (part 2)
Posted: Fri Apr 16, 2004 1:17 pm
The sand storm had been like a persistent hyena, dogging them, snapping at their ankles every step of the way. Landmarks were hard to find, despite GPS assist. On a number of occasions, one of the transports got stuck, needing to be pulled out by cables held by the more sure-footed M9s.
Now, however, the screaming waves of airborne particulate matter would be their best friend. Sometimes, good fortune is even better than good planning. There was no way to predict a disturbance of this magnitude. Nonetheless, it would be the ideal cover.
In the occasional gaps in the blanketing sand, Sousuke could make out the blurry images of the first of the two temples at Abu Simbel. The great edifice had been built by Ramses II in ancient Nubia, as a show of his strength and divine nature. Four statues of him---each over sixty feet high---flanked the temple entrance. That would not be the way down to any secret base. Nor would the front entry way of the adjacent Temple of Hathor provide an easy point of insertion for the bored but eager ground troops.
The weather would make it difficult for anyone to escape. However, it would also make it near impossible to track anyone who did manage to make it to a traversable roadway. Nonetheless, the Mithril troops would need to tip their hands. They used sounding charges and echo triangulation devices to begin searching for large underground spaces.
Sousuke walked resolutely on perimeter guard duty. He would keep his eyes open for any evidence of enemy troops, and for any means they might use to enter and exit their places of concealment. He put away the Hellbore and armed himself with his Bofors 57mm. The strong gusts of winds would make aiming the Hellbore near impossible.
The never ending monotony of the view caused Sousuke to lapse back into his trancelike state. He thought about aim. It was the thing that elevated him above the rank of useless refuse to the exalted status of warrior. First, however, there had been trials for him to face.
He had been caught stealing by the mujahadeen. Had he been stealing food, they would have slit his throat and left him as food for the wandering packs of wild dogs. Instead, he had been brazen enough to try and pilfer weapons---they admired his spunk and courage.
His place was with the domesticated canines of the camp. Where they slept, he slept. What they ate, he ate. When they were sent out to patrol, he went with them. More than anything else, he was an expendable resource. He could be used to draw out enemy fire. If he were unfortunate, he would find a mine that might have taken out a valuable fighter. If a water source was questionable, he drank. If the sand was potentially treacherous, he walked it.
He survived. That impressed his keepers all the more. He also showed signs of cleverness. Food disappeared, but he was never caught. His skills were improving. But he had yet demonstrated the talents that would make him seen as an adult at an early age.
Sousuke was not native to the land, but it was all that he remembered. The spilling of his family’s blood made it his home more than any apartment, street address, or mail box ever could. It was his country now. He would fight for it. Moreover, he would fight for vengeance. The mujahadeen first realized that, when Russian prisoners were dragged back to the camp, barely alive.
The first time a Russian captive passed close to Sousuke, he acted llike ittle more than a beast, falling on the man with teeth and fingernails. No steel weapon at hand, he used a rock to knock the man senseless. As a reward, he was given a knife, to do with as he pleased.
The memory shocked Sousuke back to full awareness. Good. No sign of the enemy yet. No word from any of the other team members. He was in a no man’s land of a sort, physically. The same was true of his recollections. He could not keep away. His conscience kept dragging him back again.
He had stared at that knife for a number of moments, torn between the kind life he still remembered, and the rough life he now found himself growing more and more accustomed to. At first, he had been so driven by rage, that he was certain he would kill the man. But, the Russian lay there helpless, moaning. His hand shook, raised above the man’s throat. He looked up at the bearded men watching him. He asked silently for their help. He wanted to kill, but found he could not.
One freedom fighter walked over and placed his hand on Sousuke’s. With a firm downward push, he forced the boys’ hands---and the knife---downward. Spurting crimson stained the sand and brown earth. Looking at his hands, Sousuke did not flinch. Neither did he smile. He remained stoic, his face a living stone. It was what they had wanted to see---he might prove useful to them.
Over time, he became their trained gyrfalcon. Where they pointed, he flew. When they signaled, he killed. He was not the largest predator in the encampment, but over the years, he became one of the most effective. The saying ‘When you lay down with dogs, you wake up with fleas’ held doubly true. In his early days, he picked up fleas from his stablemates. By the time he had earned his own tent, he was picking up every single bit of knowledge the older warriors had to offer.
His skill with weapons was exceptional. It earned him respect and comraderie. That drove him to become better still. He learned unarmed combat from men who had been abroad. He earned more than his share of bruises and concussions---they would not take it easy on him. But, he excelled at that as well. From the craftiest warriors, he learned tactics and strategy. From the eldest warriors, he learned about survival.
He was never truly accepted as one of their ranks. It did not matter to him conciously. They were not his true family. He had no true family. Friends were not a blessing or a luxury---they were a burden and a risk. Losing a friend hurt. Relying too much on a comrade might leave him open to betrayal. Harsh lessons made him a harsh man, before he had even reached manhood.
The women in the camp were not his mother. That was not their fault, but he could not forgive them for it. Some tried to baby him---he hated them for it. Others treated him with ridicule and disrespect, despite his growing list of successes---he gave no heed to their thoughts or opinions.
Somehow, something of his prior life stayed alive despite all that he went through. It lay dormant, patient. All it needed was opportunity---opportunity and men who would see his abilities and try to make something more out of him. He would still be a human weapon, but his goals would be different. True, they wanted him to kill and destroy, but they were convinced that it was for the betterment of mankind. For some reason, that appealed to him.
Sousuke snapped out of his reverie, looking down at his hands. He expected to see them covered with blood---they were not. The faces of the men he killed paraded before his eyes. Their eyes burned deep into his very soul. His own cries of justification fell on deaf ears. He rubbed his eyes, but the visions wouldn’t go away.
There were more sins to add to his ledger. So many sins.
PRIDE. He developed an excessive belief in his own abilities. In the future, he would pay a cost for that mistake.
ENVY. Despite his skills and successes, he was never admitted to the inner circle. No one introduce their daughters. His share of any bounty remained a greenback’s share.
GLUTTONY. At times he ate, just to be eating. He consumed food as if he had never eaten before, and might never eat again. The taste did not matter. The amount did. That too would effect how he ate far down the road.
ANGER. It might be less accurate to say he sinned than to say he became that sin. He embodied it. He drank it. It exuded from his pores. It pumped through his heart and pulsed through his veins.
AVARICE. Before it came to mean nothing too him, his greed for material goods threatened to consume him. Soon enough, though, he learned the fruitlessness of that desire. He began to covet one thing in particular. Better and more powerful weapons.
The words themselves now paraded before Sousuke’s eyes, taunting him. ARROGANCE. BITTERNESS. HATE. JUDGING. REVENGE. IMPLACABILITY. LUST FOR POWER. IMPATIENCE. PREJUDICE. LYING. BLASPHEMY. PERJURY. MALIGNING. BOASTING. RIDICULING. CURSING. FLATTERY. ARGUING. MURDER. STEALING. DISOBEDIENCE. TRESPASSING. CHEATING. INGRATITUDE. DISRESPECT. He saw those. He learned those. He twisted them all to his benefit. It would take years, blood, sweat, and tears to wash them away. That, and people that though he might amount to something more than that.
Now, looking back, Sousuke was torn. It had made him who he was. It had given him talents that he never would have had. But, without that upbringing, he would never have found himself in a situation where those talents were sorely needed. As much as he tried to convince himself he was a different person now, without the fresh burden of sin, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was possible for him to regress. Could he become an amoral and vengeful spirit, thinking only of survival and gain?
He was in no mood to consider the virtues he owned today, as a result of the sins he once enacted, and later wished to distance himself from. The CONVICTION he was blessed with seemed useless. The SELF RELIANCE he developed seemed pointless. The STRENGTH and RESOLUTENESS he usually appreciated were little more than worthless consolation prizes. Ditto for VIGILANCE and ENDURANCE.
Again, he thought of Kaname. He found himself thinking about her strictly in the past tense, and purposely tried to put a stop to that. But, thinking of the future did not bring him any great hope or peace. He was a killer, in the strictest definition of the word. In the past, his picture could have showed up in a dictionary next to that word. He might have his old instincts corralled and tamed, but did that make him domesticated? Did that make him safe? Or, like a tiger or lion raised with love from a cub, was he still a wild beast at heart, capable of striking out at any moment? It was not a pleasant thought. He knew of no method to make certain one way or another.
As dreary as his thoughts had turned, there was still a ray of hope. He was still capable of feeling new things, of seeing old things in a different way. His time with Kaname had left him with little doubt in that regard.
He thought back to the kidnapping, the battle on the island, and the hijacking of the TDD-1. Gauron’s name was easily the one which occupied the central spot in his memories---how could it not be. That man had been more than a thorn in his side---he had been a tree… no, an entire forest. Hopefully, that black-hearted bastard saw his last days, blown to pieces with Venom just beneath the surface of the sea.
But, a second name was nearly as prominent, for entirely different reasons. Kaname. She had started off the trip angry at him, snubbing him. She had laughed and carried on, the center of attention. She had been the sun her friends orbited around---Sousuke was off in a deserted corner of the galaxy, ignored. That was fine, as he had a job to do. His feelings had not been as confusing then.
The, *he* appeared, and threatened the teacher until Sousuke’s staged accident broke the deadly moment. Kaname was taken away, to who knows where and who knows what. He followed. He was faced with a dilemma. The hostages had been assigned greater priority than Kaname Chidori. There was a bomb on the plane---he had notified Mithril of its existence, but could not diffuse it himself. If he was going to make a bold move against enemy troops, shouldn’t he try to get the captives off of the plane? No, that action might draw a large scale response from any enemy troops in the area. It was best to sit tight and wait for the rescue mission.
The logic might be applied to a single Whispered girl as well. If he ran into resistance, might his actions trigger the end of the passengers. They were, after all, merely baggage to Gauron. And he was the type of man who would throw away a suitcase rather than going to the trouble of carrying it home with him.
Kaname. She was his charge. He would NOT abandon her. No matter what. It was contrary to his directive. He did not debate. He acted. He had made his choice.
DISOBEDIENCE. It was not the first time. But, the last time had been in Guatemala, and that incident had gone a long way towards curbing his any thought of independent action. To disobey again might be understandable from an emotional standpoint, but there would have been no sympathy given him from a military stand point. He had probably used up his ration of mercy and forbearance before.
IRRESPONSIBILITY. He was responsible for Kaname. His greater duty lay with his classmates. He had left them in a precarious situation.
She had been in danger. He reduced that danger. They came under considerable attack together. They escaped that danger together. But, it was a text book case of ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire.’ With the nose of a veritable Hound of Hell, Gauron found them, piloting Codarl. The rickety RK92 never stood a chance. He would be only a memory in small number of peoples’ minds if Sgt. Weber hadn’t glided in when he did.
Still, back in a place he was familiar with---battle---he had not felt all of the things he normally felt at such times.
FEAR was there, but he no longer had much trouble with that. But, now it was fear for Kaname.
ANGER was surprisingly absent. A great deal of that was due to shock and surprise---he had thought that a shot to the head had erased Gauron from this earth. Nonetheless, the anger did not build when he realized who he faced. It was more important to focus on Kaname, to see if there was any way she could make her escape while he died.
PRIDE was not in evidence. He made no last minute heroic move, convinced that he had to go down fighting. It was not a priority for him with Kaname there and in danger.
He and Kaname had made their way into the forest. They arrived back at the base too late---the rescue aircraft had all left. They had run alongside, watching the planes lift their ponderous bulk skyward. There was no time for them to mourn or cry. Wounded, he lead her deep into the woods again, where they found Sgt. Weber, worse for weare after his encounter with the mysterious Arm Slave.
Kaname did not take kindly to some of his orders. They argued. Her attitude towards him took a new turn. They connected on an emotional level he had not known existed within him. It gave rise to feelings that he had no way to interpret. It was not merely friendship, and he had trouble enough with that concept. He could do research on that feeling, but what would that do? There was no written frame of reference comparable to his own? Just how many people had been through what he had? Nonetheless, he had his suspicions. He would have to see how things evolved, one baby step at a time. He had to learn to walk before he worried about running.
He had put his FAITH in Kaname that afternoon. He had practiced RESTRAINT and MODERATION. After a rocky start, he made headway in FAIRNESS, THOGHTFULNESS, and DISCRETION.
There had been another moment that now hung before his eyes, tantalizingly close, but still lost in the dusty wreckage of time. When he had visited her in the hospital---and she finally realized he had been standing there---her reaction was that of great joy. For him. Since that time, part of him wanted to see that reaction again. Kaname’s reactions to him changed back at school---it was her domain after all, and she was no longer feeling weak and vulnerable---but there was still some undercurrent in their relationship that left him adrift, but heading for land.
Though he didn’t know how to recognize it at the time, he had begin to feel HOPE, DESIRE, and EXPECTATION.
The seeds of TRUST were growing, as were the tiny roots of BENEVOLENCE.
Of course, relationships---like life itself---seem to have variable topography. He made Kaname ecstatic by asking her to an island. She turned rigid and unfriendly when she found out it was Mithril’s island. She had shown him great kindness and concern when he had returned from an abortive fight with Gauron, having seen Sgt. Major Mao roll by on a stretcher. He had reacted badly. He had hurt her.
GUILT. He had wanted to take the whole world on his shoulders, to protect everyone. He found he could not, and sunk within a sucking swamp of self-recrimination.
BITTERNESS. He had cursed his new situation. An Arm Slave with fluky technology. The inability to protect his friends. Dissatisfaction with everything that had happened when he took on his assignment guarding Kaname.
THOUGHTLESSNESS. He was in no mood to have anyone point out the irrationalness of his thoughts. His handling of Kaname had been rough, unkind, and uncalled for.
But, they had reconciled. He had found it within himself to apologize. Furthermore, after they had saved each other fighting a traitor, he had gone on to share his feelings with her. It was a GENEROSITY he hadn’t known he was capable. The words he chose gave hope that WISDOM had not been one of the virtues left out of his duffel bag when he was sent into this world.
He even went as far to take her to his favorite fishing place. He had planned that activity before the unexpected and harrowing experiences they both went through. He wrapped HOPE, FAITH, and CHARITY together when he admitted to her that he felt like he could do anything when she was around. It felt like the truth. He had never felt that way towards anyone ever before.
That had been before Ayame was taken ill. That had been before Kaname had lashed out at him and spoken such harsh words. People had been angry at him before---some allies had even been angry enough to want to kill him. Their reactions had meant nothing. Kaname’s reaction had him turned inward, treading places he had never walked before---going further, perhaps, than it was wise to go. Could he make his way back out again?
Sousuke purposefully smashed his fish hard against the corner of the control console. It hurt. It hurt a great deal. That helped him focus on the mission at hand. Kaname was not here. She wasn’t even on the same continent. Like so many other things, she may only be a memory. He had to move on.
“Urzu 7, this is Urzu 2, do you copy?”
“This is Urzu 7. I hear you, Sgt. Major.”
“Do you see anything in your area, Soususke? The troops have found an opening, blown it, and headed inside. If there’s any shit to hit the fan, we should expect the crap to start flying pretty soon now. Keep a sharp eye out. “
“Negative. No movement yet, Urzu 2. The radar is severely hampered, and the hot sand has blurred the infra-red. But, we can assume the enemy will face similar handicaps.”
“The GPS is still working. You should be able to tell my location and that of Urzu 6. Contact me immediately the moment you see anything, even a single person. Urzu 2, out.”
Sousuke continued his patrol. He was somewhat annoyed, and that blunted his thoughts of the past for a while. Here he was at Abu Simbel---a dream location---and he literally couldn’t see anything. For a moment, he thought that he would gladly be facing three Arm Slaves in a clear sunny day, just as long as he could at least get an unobstructed view of the temples.
As it turned out, he was able to get part of his wish. Walking his machine near to the sheer sandstone rock face to the west of the temples, he caught sight of some faint lights. They highlighted a rectangular space---moving closer, he could tell it was an opening. Huge metal doors, disguised to match the rock, had swung open. There were human figures standing in the opening---they looked to have various types of detection equipment. The IFF system did not identify them as friendlies.
Sousuke would save them the trouble of detecting him. Two shots from his Bofors cleared the area of intact living bodies.
“Urzu 2, this is Urzu 7. Do you copy?”
“This is Urzu 2, do you have something sergeant?”
“Yes.” Sousuke described the particulars. “The gate and hallway beyond appear large. The echo imaging system is not fully functional, but the passageway seems to be broad enough and high enough for Arm Slave Traffic. What are my instructions, Sgt. Major?”
There was a pause in the conversation. As Sousuke waited for a reply, he noted something on his radar. Two possible blips suggested something heading up the passageway in his direction.
“Urzu 2, I think I have company coming. I am at a disadvantage here, can I step inside the structure and face them on equal terms? I believe the element of surprise had been preserved despite my earlier actions. If they get much further, they will see the aftermath of the confrontation.”
“Sousuke, Kurz is on his way. ETA is five minutes. Do what you feel is right, but DON’T bite off more than you can chew. Do you understand me?”
“I understand, Sgt. Major. I’m going in. Urzu 7, out.”
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"Time . . . is less likely to bring favor to the victor than to the vanquished. . . An offensive war requires above all a quick, irresistible decision.”
That quote from Carl Von Clausewitz had always been engraved in Sousuke’s heart. He made use of it in battle, and at school. It had saved him in the former. It earned him no end of trouble in the latter. No doubt, that was because the famous Prussian’s work was titled ‘On War,’ and not ‘On School.”
On this day, ‘On War’ was just what he needed. He tore through the two Arm Slaves without too much resistance. The 'Shadow Class' mechas were formidable machines, but the pilots were unimpressive. He had the advantage in surprise and intention. The only thing in their favor was numbers.
On entering the doorway to the tunnel, Sousuke had remembered a quote from Judges 1:19:
“And the Lord was with Judah; and he drave out the inhabitants of the mountain; but he could not drive out the inhabitants of the valley, for they had chariots of iron.”
For a moment he had felt the quick pulse of fear, until he realized that he too sat in a modern chariot of iron.
The iron beasts on both sides were armed with guns and missiles. None had Lambda driver technology. Their speed and armor were about equal. The M9 auxiliary features were superior, but would not play a role in this close in battle.
“Presence of mind . . . is nothing but an increased capacity of dealing with the unexpected.”
Another quote from Clausewitz, and a good indication of the superiority Sousuke had over his adversaries.
The two pilots froze, when confronted with an unexpected threat. One Arm Slave remained unmoving, blocking the fire zone for the one behind it. Rather than act, the obstructed pilot was content to follow his partner’s lead. His partner never had the chance to lead.
Sousuke’s first volley of cannon fire was aimed to destroy or disable the enemy’s hand held weaponry. He did that swiftly and efficiently. With tunnel integrity important, he refrained from firing missiles. Charging in abruptly, he pushed the first fumbling Shadow firmly against the other, hampering its ability to fight. A well placed series of stabs with the Anti-Armor dagger destroyed both man and machine.
Walking his M9 around the first machine, he paid no attention to the blood mixed in with the gusher of escaping hydraulic fluid. Checking first for additional threats, he watched coldly as the second Shadow extricated itself from the wreckage of its fellow. The pilot must see Sousuke standing over him with a 57mm cannon pointed straight at him. The mecha raised its arms---the pilot was trusting in the universal signal of surrender. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had waved a white flag. On this mission, no one was to be left standing and no machine was to be left in one piece.
The morality of the situation pulled at Sousuke’s heart strings. He kept asking himself ‘what would Kaname think?’ That question had no place here. Only one thing mattered: the objective.
The justification was simple, supplied by a quote from Thucydides in his ‘History of the Peloponnesian War” :
“The strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.”
Sousuke decided to save ammunition. Armed again with the Anti-Armor dagger, he finished off the second A.S. and its pilot. He felt sick for a moment. His recent soul searching had left him open to the arrows and stings of conscience, stripping the layers of emotional armor he had wrapped himself over the years.
Was he any better off for all of his judgment, or had he made himself weaker, more vulnerable? He was mentally and emotionally exhausted, but he had to push forward.
His mind had fixated on quotes he had accumulated over the years, and one rang clear and true, the missive of an anonymous Spartan:
“Any man can fight refreshed and full of rest. A great soldier is when they fight valiantly drained of all strengths, whom is cold and tired, who also have not eaten or drank in weeks.”
In a strange way, Sousuke felt a kinship with that man, and countless other faceless soldiers who had striven for some goal at some time in history. How many of them were hardened killing machines? Had they all been destined to a short life of violence and death? Was their very participation in battle a sin? Or, were they valiant men doing what they must, making sacrifices in spirit as well as body in order to reach their objectives?
Was there any place for a man like that---or a boy like that---amongst individuals who did not fight and did not kill? Was he an outsider at school in more ways than simply being the most recent transfer? Did he have any right to even think about Kaname---she was not tainted with the stains and stench of war. Would she remain that way if he stayed close to her? Could she suffer something worse if he did not?
Sousuke dredged up a number of quotes he had taken strength from in the past:
“War is an evil thing; but to submit to the dictation of other states is worse.... Freedom, if we hold fast to it, will ultimately restore our losses, but submission will mean permanent loss of all that we value.... To you who call yourselves men of peace, I say: You are not safe unless you have men of action on your side.”
Those words of Thucydides touched a nerve in Sousuke. Some truths were as strong in 400 B.C. as they were now.
Another quote from the ancient Greek general and historian spoke to him personally, and went a long way to describe the unspoken mission statement of Mithril:
"The likeliest way of securing peace is this: only to use one's power in the cause of justice, but to make it perfectly plain that one is resolved not to tolerate aggression.”
Sousuke knew that he did not enjoy killing, and was full aware that he found no satisfaction in the pain and suffering he caused.
“War is just when it is necessary; arms are permissible when there is no hope except in arms.“
That was from Niccolo Machiavelli, in ‘The Prince.’ Sousuke would judge this mission to be a necessity, not a luxury. It was not a matter of national posturing or the never ending maneuvering for power and resources.
“The condition of freedom is risk.”
The famous quote from Goethe was also true, Sousuke maintained. If no one was willing to take the risk, the privileges and pleasures that many people took for granted would fall by the wayside. No doubt they would then wonder why no one stepped forward to help them, when the made no such effort themselves.
There was no doubt what could happen if truckload after truckload of Destroying Angel mushrooms or processed and concentrated Amanitin made it into the hands of fanatic and schemers.
Walking his M9 deeper into the tunnel system, Sousuke pondered a major point.
Did he make a difference?
If he were not sitting in this Arm Slave, would someone else be? If he went on to choose, exclusively, a world of school, bus trips, art class, and amusement parks, would the world suffer from his absence as a skilled and dedicated fighter. Would innocent people be killed or injured, because his place was taken by someone with a chip on his shoulder, or a hole where a conscience once was?
He knew all too well what could happen if incompetent soldiers were handed a task beyond the level of their skills. Even good soldiers could run into serious troubles when they were out-manned or were on the short end of the technology stick. His mind naturally traveled back to his adoptive homeland. The faces of Gray, Jackson, Majest, Bill, and Andy floated past. He remembered some of the words they had shared, good and bad. It all prompted him to recall a quote from Rudyard Kipling:
“When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains,
And the women come out to cut up what remains,
Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains,
An' go to your Gawd like a soldier.”
They had gone to their graves like soldiers, fighting to the end. They had no means with which to fight Gauron. That maniac had a Lambda Driver equipped A.S. None of them did. Sousuke’s absence form the immediate vicinity spelled all of their dooms. It was not the point of eternal guilt he was drawn to. It was the fact that he was the only one who could pilot Arbalest. Perhaps there were people in the higher command who simply viewed him as a precious commodity because of that fact. Could he afford to think of himself in such terms? Could the world afford him not to?
Kaname was a valuable commodity too, in some peoples’ eyes.
For Sousuke, she had grown to be more than a mission.
If he did not resume his cover at Jindai High School, Kaname would no doubt still be protected by someone, as long as Mithril felt that the benefits outweighed the cost and the risk. Would he be able to resume his role as bodyguard?
Sousuke also had the emotional scars---and physical marks---that spoke of the dangers of PRIDE, WRATH, HATE, and REVENGE. The scars he had earned through IRRESPONSIBILITY, IMPATIENCE, and SELFISHNESS were no less demonstrative. There were plenty of soldiers who never learned those lessons, or simply did not care.
His earliest days as an Arm Slave pilot were not all about knights, their horses, and shining armor. He had been a crusader for justice and freedom, but he had no qualms at using whatever method seemed likely to get the job done. Orders were followed because they set forth a goal that paralleled his own desires and sense of need. The battle in Guatemala was a wake up call for him. He had come close to being expelled from Mithril. It had been very possible that he would have spent the rest of his life in a foreign prison, if the truths had not been uncovered. Sgt. Major Mao and Sgt. Weber had been forced to put their own careers on the line to expose the lies.
It could have gone worse than that. The captives had already been killed. But, had they been alive, his attack against orders could have led to their death---though unlikely, political gyrations still might have been able to secure their release. He was forced to consider the potential ramifications of his rebellious rush into battle.
He had been following orders in Columbia. The drug runners were being routed at their laboratories, and the kingpins were being dragged from their homes. The enemy forces had been large in number but short on modern war equipment. Still, antiquated weapons in the hands of desperate men made the mission anything but a cake walk.
All of his attention had been focused on the destruction of as many evil men as possible; the protection of his squad mates; and his own welfare. The power at his command---the sheer destructive force of a single M9---was a thing of SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS, ARROGANCE, and JUDGING. He had made certain to load his weapons with sufficient rounds. There had been no negligence in his pre-fight systems check-ups. But, he had forgotten to pack PRUDENCE, TEMPERENCE, and JUSTICE.
Too intent on chasing and silencing an armored car, he never saw a woman and her baby. In a hurry, he vaulted a series of low huts, landing in what a rough hurried scan had showed was an empty street. The street had not been empty. The mangled and bloody remains showed that much. That terrible event, as drastic and unfortunate as it was, served as a teaching point. But it took a while for the lesson to sink in.
Fortunately for him---and the countless men and women who he would fight for across the years---the incident also started Sousuke down a path where he began thinking about the welfare of other people than himself. That journey would take time. Others would suffer before he reached his destination.
He had been acting within mission parameters in Cambodia. The terrorist base was situated in the middle of a small village, but the villagers were not supporters of the cause. The fighting had been fierce, thanks to clever tricks and traps in the difficult terrain. The battle was taking the lives of innocents---there was no doubt of that. But, the Mithril troops had broadcast a warning and allowed some time for escape. Melissa had been pinned down by a number of groups of enemy warriors---each group armed with modern ATGMs. Her M9 was stuck, its leg sunk in a deep pit.
Sousuke did not bother surveying the surroundings. His eye went quick to one particular structure. Once he had a notion, he acted. The only thing on his mind was rescuing his squad leader, no matter what price he had to pay. There were certain costs he did not have time enough or compassion enough to reckon.
A huge multi-story tower had been erected, used as an observation point and a platform for snipers and long range interdiction weapons. Kurz had cleaned out that rat’s nest early in the battle. The structure stood near the entrenched groups of men threatening Sgt. Major Mao. A number of hits on the nearest legs of the tower---accomplished by volleys of Javelin missiles---brought the edifice crashing down on the enemy.
The falling tower also crashed through the roof of the village hospital. Fortunately, most of the patients had been ambulatory. The few that had not been, died that day.
Were his earlier actions around Kaname cut from the same cloth? Had he inconvenienced her or hurt her by rushing ever onward, oblivious to her thoughts and desires? Did his slow-growing understanding of her come too late? Did he put one aspect of her life at higher priority than it needed, while crushing the life out of the others. Was there any reason she should want to see him again?
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Sousuke was heading deeper underground. If it hadn’t have been for serendipity, he never would have found this lair. The presence of a ill-meant and destructive facilities underneath temples highlighting the heights of man’s creativity had Sousuke thinking about duality.
The Sphinx came to mind.
Ask some people about the Sphinx, and they will mention the Great Sphinx of Egypt, rediscovered by the Western world when Napoleon’s soldiers came across it in the 1700s. Few people were not familiar with the crouching leonine form and its weathered pharoah head.
But, that was not the only such monument in Egypt---or the world, for that matter. Assyria, amongst other nations, had altars and other structures that depicted creatures with the body of a beast and the head of a man or king.
In Egypt, lesser sphinxes, when carved crouching, were meant as guardians against evil. When carved to be standing, they were meant to represent conquerors.
To anyone well versed in ancient Greek stories, the first sphinxes were something totally different---they were ghostlike monsters that carried off children, and who were present at the scene of fatal fights. The furthest things from guardians.
Other people, familiar with the better known tale of Oedipus, would know the Sphinx as a terrible rapacious beast plaguing Thebes. That mysterious creature---with the body of a winged lion and the head of a woman---frequented the highway leading to Thebes. To each who passed her lair, the Sphinx addressed the question, "What animal is it that in the morning goes on four feet, at noon on two feet, and in the evening on three feet?" Those who failed to answer her riddle she destroyed.
Oedipus declared the answer to be man himself, who in childhood crawled upon his hands and knees, in manhood stood erect, and in old age shuffled along supporting himself by a staff.
Discovering one who knew the answer to her riddle, the sphinx cast herself from the cliff which bordered the road and perished.
Sousuke knew that there was still another answer to the riddle of the sphinx, an answer best revealed by a consideration of the Pythagorean values of numbers. The 4, the 2, and the 3 produce the sum of 9, which is the natural number of man and also of the lower worlds. The 4 represents the ignorant man, the 2 the intellectual man, and the 3 the spiritual man. Infant humanity walks on four legs, evolving humanity on two legs, and to the power of his own mind the redeemed and illumined magus adds the staff of wisdom. The sphinx is therefore the mystery of Nature, the embodiment of the secret doctrine, and all who cannot solve her riddle perish. To pass the sphinx is to attain personal immortality.
In a sense, Sousuke faced the Sphinx today. The riddle was no less difficult. Could he be a soldier, fight for the good of mankind, and still be fit for society. If he toned down the characteristics that served him so well in battle---in order to merge better at school and civilized institutions---would it detract from his prowess as a fighter. Taking that question further, he wondered what would happen if he followed Kaname’s wishes. If he became more like other ‘normal’ boys, would it limit his ability to protect her? Was there some way he could have his cake and eat it too? Could he become more fit as a warrior, as well as better suited for every day life? Could he establish his own meaningful personal immortality?
It may be a moot point.
Nonetheless, he saw an image of Kaname with the head of Anubis. With each explosion at school, she add more weight to his heart. With every battle he left to fight in, she added even more. Seeing the figurative blood on his hands, would she take the feather away, and let his heart fall into the eager mouth of Ammut? If Kaname ever came to mean more to him---and he was not yet certain he was capable of such a step---would he have to choose between Kaname and Mithril? Would they let him go? Would she wait?
Sousuke was still distracted when the woman ran out in front of his arm slave. Throwing the control lever to the side, he managed to evade her. This was not a repeat of the dark days gone by. The woman was waving her arms. He turned up the external microphones. She was claiming to be a captive, a forced laborer at the underground base. He did not see her holstered pistol until too late.
Sousuke’s orders had been unambiguous.
“Kill any f@cking person you see, Sousuke. Anybody down in one of those holes is too dangerous, either in what they have done….. what they possess….. or what they know. This isn’t Sunday school. We get no points for being nice. The threat ends, we win. The danger moves elsewhere, we lose.” Sgt. Major Mao had been insistent.
The woman was young, with long dark hair. That, and her contour, reminded Sousuke of Kaname. It hadn’t been a long pause, but it proved more than sufficient.
Too late, Sousuke caught a look at the men behind that girl. Two groups of two men each, both armed with a medium sized ATGM and spare missile tubes. The first missile fired before he could get a shot off. The imapact threw his M9 backward sharply. It tumbled ass over teacups, landing on its metallic rump. Sparks shot out from power couplings, and a small trickle of hydraulic fluid trickled down the side of the machine. His Bofors was thirty feet away from him. He was dead center in the cross-hairs of the next fire team.
As Sousuke reached back for the Hellbore, the second ATGM team and their weapon exploded, splattered against the walls and floor of the tunnel. The girl had turned an ran, but she too ended up as a grotesque set of bloody hieroglyphics. Soon, the entire force had been obliterated.
“Sitting down on the job, eh Sousuke? Never thought I’d see the day. That will win me a beer from Melissa. Maybe something more. Oh Yeh!!!” It was Kurz. Sniper rifle out, he had made short work of the terrorists and their helpers. “She WAS cute, amigo. But you picked one Hell of a time to go through puberty!”
Sousuke knew one thing already. The greatest damage he took from this incident was not to his Arm Slave. He would be hearing about this from Kurz for a long time.
“I offer my thanks. That was indeed too close.” Sousuke was not very good yet at jokes or comebacks. Nevertheless, the situation clearly called for some reply. “They looked inclined to be friendly until I asked the girl for her phone number and address. The men all encouraged her until I mentioned that the number was for Kurz Weber. That’s when they fired.”
“Yes, that DOES make sense Sousuke old boy.” Kurz laughed, seeing the flaw in his friend’s tentative try at repartee. “The men fired. They were jealous of good old Kurzeroo, Who could ever hope to follow me?”
Kurz patched in a call to Melissa, who checked in on Sousuke for a mission update and an accounting of the damage he had suffered.
“I have lost 50% function in the left arm, but all other systems and weapons are operational. We are about to head into a large expanse. It appears to be a large underground garage and loading area. The scanner shows an number of 18-wheeled trucks….. A pen for camels….. Lifting machinery….. And incompletely assembled Arm Slaves of the 'Shadow' type.” Sousuke flipped through various optical devices. “I am picking up a large number of heat sources around the trucks. No doubt the terrorists are in the process of loading cargo.”
“Terminate everybody and everything with extreme prejudice. I expect----” The transmission halted for a while, then came back on.
“Destroy all remaining equipment and facilities as quickly as possible. We will need to move out immediately, if not sooner. The ground troops found a PC and a number of discs detailing names, dates, buyers, and shipment details. We caught them in time, it seems. But, aside from those three trucks you intercepted, three additional vehicles left yesterday, They will have been loaded aboard the 'William Shouten,' a 25,000 ton container ship registered out of Mauritius. There could be more than one hundred containers on board that ship. If we can’t identify the ones we need, it will be necessary to send the entire ship to the bottom.”
“But Sis, why don’t we wait until the ship reaches the sea and have *Danaan* take her out?” Kurz asked a valid question.
“We don’t have time. If word of our little shindig here reached the wrong ears, who know how much stuff they could toss off or smuggle out.”
“Why not an air strike, immediately, while the ship is still at anchor?” Sousuke asked the obvious question. “A cruise missile, with a low yield conventional warhead, would also suffice.”
“Politics and secrets, Sousuke. The shit we keep our hands clean of. The men in Egypt who helped secret us into the country did so with one proviso. There can be no large scale and newsworthy attacks on large scale targets like ports, harbors, airports, or points of commerce. Our little skirmish will be easy to cover up. Literally. The desert sands ought to fill in the holes we made.” Melissa switched to another channel momentarily, then switched back.
“No more talk. Get to work. I’m heading out at top speed. Follow when you can.”
Sousuke was not slow to learn from the risk he had put himself in by woolgathering. Nonetheless, he revisited Clausewitz:
“In strategy surprise becomes more feasible the closer it occurs to the tactical realm, and more difficult, the more it approaches the higher levels of policy."
Mithril appeared intent on taking the higher road. They had promised not to attack high visibility targets within Egypt by politically noticeable means, and would refrain from doing so. An attack on a single cargo ship---carried out by unknown forces---could easily be attributed to some terrorist group or underground faction. A strike by aircraft or missile could very easily draw Israel into a situation its hands were clean of. Men who backed Mithril---and kept her secrets---may become less inclined to do so if something like that happened.
Sousuke just hoped that the loss of surprise wouldn’t be costly.
He and Kurz would need to finish their job, then haul ass. That’s exactly what they did. The sands clearing, Sousuke turned his viewers to the rear. He got the glimpse of Abu Simbel that he had always wished for as they were heading out.
************************************************************
End of part 2
Now, however, the screaming waves of airborne particulate matter would be their best friend. Sometimes, good fortune is even better than good planning. There was no way to predict a disturbance of this magnitude. Nonetheless, it would be the ideal cover.
In the occasional gaps in the blanketing sand, Sousuke could make out the blurry images of the first of the two temples at Abu Simbel. The great edifice had been built by Ramses II in ancient Nubia, as a show of his strength and divine nature. Four statues of him---each over sixty feet high---flanked the temple entrance. That would not be the way down to any secret base. Nor would the front entry way of the adjacent Temple of Hathor provide an easy point of insertion for the bored but eager ground troops.
The weather would make it difficult for anyone to escape. However, it would also make it near impossible to track anyone who did manage to make it to a traversable roadway. Nonetheless, the Mithril troops would need to tip their hands. They used sounding charges and echo triangulation devices to begin searching for large underground spaces.
Sousuke walked resolutely on perimeter guard duty. He would keep his eyes open for any evidence of enemy troops, and for any means they might use to enter and exit their places of concealment. He put away the Hellbore and armed himself with his Bofors 57mm. The strong gusts of winds would make aiming the Hellbore near impossible.
The never ending monotony of the view caused Sousuke to lapse back into his trancelike state. He thought about aim. It was the thing that elevated him above the rank of useless refuse to the exalted status of warrior. First, however, there had been trials for him to face.
He had been caught stealing by the mujahadeen. Had he been stealing food, they would have slit his throat and left him as food for the wandering packs of wild dogs. Instead, he had been brazen enough to try and pilfer weapons---they admired his spunk and courage.
His place was with the domesticated canines of the camp. Where they slept, he slept. What they ate, he ate. When they were sent out to patrol, he went with them. More than anything else, he was an expendable resource. He could be used to draw out enemy fire. If he were unfortunate, he would find a mine that might have taken out a valuable fighter. If a water source was questionable, he drank. If the sand was potentially treacherous, he walked it.
He survived. That impressed his keepers all the more. He also showed signs of cleverness. Food disappeared, but he was never caught. His skills were improving. But he had yet demonstrated the talents that would make him seen as an adult at an early age.
Sousuke was not native to the land, but it was all that he remembered. The spilling of his family’s blood made it his home more than any apartment, street address, or mail box ever could. It was his country now. He would fight for it. Moreover, he would fight for vengeance. The mujahadeen first realized that, when Russian prisoners were dragged back to the camp, barely alive.
The first time a Russian captive passed close to Sousuke, he acted llike ittle more than a beast, falling on the man with teeth and fingernails. No steel weapon at hand, he used a rock to knock the man senseless. As a reward, he was given a knife, to do with as he pleased.
The memory shocked Sousuke back to full awareness. Good. No sign of the enemy yet. No word from any of the other team members. He was in a no man’s land of a sort, physically. The same was true of his recollections. He could not keep away. His conscience kept dragging him back again.
He had stared at that knife for a number of moments, torn between the kind life he still remembered, and the rough life he now found himself growing more and more accustomed to. At first, he had been so driven by rage, that he was certain he would kill the man. But, the Russian lay there helpless, moaning. His hand shook, raised above the man’s throat. He looked up at the bearded men watching him. He asked silently for their help. He wanted to kill, but found he could not.
One freedom fighter walked over and placed his hand on Sousuke’s. With a firm downward push, he forced the boys’ hands---and the knife---downward. Spurting crimson stained the sand and brown earth. Looking at his hands, Sousuke did not flinch. Neither did he smile. He remained stoic, his face a living stone. It was what they had wanted to see---he might prove useful to them.
Over time, he became their trained gyrfalcon. Where they pointed, he flew. When they signaled, he killed. He was not the largest predator in the encampment, but over the years, he became one of the most effective. The saying ‘When you lay down with dogs, you wake up with fleas’ held doubly true. In his early days, he picked up fleas from his stablemates. By the time he had earned his own tent, he was picking up every single bit of knowledge the older warriors had to offer.
His skill with weapons was exceptional. It earned him respect and comraderie. That drove him to become better still. He learned unarmed combat from men who had been abroad. He earned more than his share of bruises and concussions---they would not take it easy on him. But, he excelled at that as well. From the craftiest warriors, he learned tactics and strategy. From the eldest warriors, he learned about survival.
He was never truly accepted as one of their ranks. It did not matter to him conciously. They were not his true family. He had no true family. Friends were not a blessing or a luxury---they were a burden and a risk. Losing a friend hurt. Relying too much on a comrade might leave him open to betrayal. Harsh lessons made him a harsh man, before he had even reached manhood.
The women in the camp were not his mother. That was not their fault, but he could not forgive them for it. Some tried to baby him---he hated them for it. Others treated him with ridicule and disrespect, despite his growing list of successes---he gave no heed to their thoughts or opinions.
Somehow, something of his prior life stayed alive despite all that he went through. It lay dormant, patient. All it needed was opportunity---opportunity and men who would see his abilities and try to make something more out of him. He would still be a human weapon, but his goals would be different. True, they wanted him to kill and destroy, but they were convinced that it was for the betterment of mankind. For some reason, that appealed to him.
Sousuke snapped out of his reverie, looking down at his hands. He expected to see them covered with blood---they were not. The faces of the men he killed paraded before his eyes. Their eyes burned deep into his very soul. His own cries of justification fell on deaf ears. He rubbed his eyes, but the visions wouldn’t go away.
There were more sins to add to his ledger. So many sins.
PRIDE. He developed an excessive belief in his own abilities. In the future, he would pay a cost for that mistake.
ENVY. Despite his skills and successes, he was never admitted to the inner circle. No one introduce their daughters. His share of any bounty remained a greenback’s share.
GLUTTONY. At times he ate, just to be eating. He consumed food as if he had never eaten before, and might never eat again. The taste did not matter. The amount did. That too would effect how he ate far down the road.
ANGER. It might be less accurate to say he sinned than to say he became that sin. He embodied it. He drank it. It exuded from his pores. It pumped through his heart and pulsed through his veins.
AVARICE. Before it came to mean nothing too him, his greed for material goods threatened to consume him. Soon enough, though, he learned the fruitlessness of that desire. He began to covet one thing in particular. Better and more powerful weapons.
The words themselves now paraded before Sousuke’s eyes, taunting him. ARROGANCE. BITTERNESS. HATE. JUDGING. REVENGE. IMPLACABILITY. LUST FOR POWER. IMPATIENCE. PREJUDICE. LYING. BLASPHEMY. PERJURY. MALIGNING. BOASTING. RIDICULING. CURSING. FLATTERY. ARGUING. MURDER. STEALING. DISOBEDIENCE. TRESPASSING. CHEATING. INGRATITUDE. DISRESPECT. He saw those. He learned those. He twisted them all to his benefit. It would take years, blood, sweat, and tears to wash them away. That, and people that though he might amount to something more than that.
Now, looking back, Sousuke was torn. It had made him who he was. It had given him talents that he never would have had. But, without that upbringing, he would never have found himself in a situation where those talents were sorely needed. As much as he tried to convince himself he was a different person now, without the fresh burden of sin, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was possible for him to regress. Could he become an amoral and vengeful spirit, thinking only of survival and gain?
He was in no mood to consider the virtues he owned today, as a result of the sins he once enacted, and later wished to distance himself from. The CONVICTION he was blessed with seemed useless. The SELF RELIANCE he developed seemed pointless. The STRENGTH and RESOLUTENESS he usually appreciated were little more than worthless consolation prizes. Ditto for VIGILANCE and ENDURANCE.
Again, he thought of Kaname. He found himself thinking about her strictly in the past tense, and purposely tried to put a stop to that. But, thinking of the future did not bring him any great hope or peace. He was a killer, in the strictest definition of the word. In the past, his picture could have showed up in a dictionary next to that word. He might have his old instincts corralled and tamed, but did that make him domesticated? Did that make him safe? Or, like a tiger or lion raised with love from a cub, was he still a wild beast at heart, capable of striking out at any moment? It was not a pleasant thought. He knew of no method to make certain one way or another.
As dreary as his thoughts had turned, there was still a ray of hope. He was still capable of feeling new things, of seeing old things in a different way. His time with Kaname had left him with little doubt in that regard.
He thought back to the kidnapping, the battle on the island, and the hijacking of the TDD-1. Gauron’s name was easily the one which occupied the central spot in his memories---how could it not be. That man had been more than a thorn in his side---he had been a tree… no, an entire forest. Hopefully, that black-hearted bastard saw his last days, blown to pieces with Venom just beneath the surface of the sea.
But, a second name was nearly as prominent, for entirely different reasons. Kaname. She had started off the trip angry at him, snubbing him. She had laughed and carried on, the center of attention. She had been the sun her friends orbited around---Sousuke was off in a deserted corner of the galaxy, ignored. That was fine, as he had a job to do. His feelings had not been as confusing then.
The, *he* appeared, and threatened the teacher until Sousuke’s staged accident broke the deadly moment. Kaname was taken away, to who knows where and who knows what. He followed. He was faced with a dilemma. The hostages had been assigned greater priority than Kaname Chidori. There was a bomb on the plane---he had notified Mithril of its existence, but could not diffuse it himself. If he was going to make a bold move against enemy troops, shouldn’t he try to get the captives off of the plane? No, that action might draw a large scale response from any enemy troops in the area. It was best to sit tight and wait for the rescue mission.
The logic might be applied to a single Whispered girl as well. If he ran into resistance, might his actions trigger the end of the passengers. They were, after all, merely baggage to Gauron. And he was the type of man who would throw away a suitcase rather than going to the trouble of carrying it home with him.
Kaname. She was his charge. He would NOT abandon her. No matter what. It was contrary to his directive. He did not debate. He acted. He had made his choice.
DISOBEDIENCE. It was not the first time. But, the last time had been in Guatemala, and that incident had gone a long way towards curbing his any thought of independent action. To disobey again might be understandable from an emotional standpoint, but there would have been no sympathy given him from a military stand point. He had probably used up his ration of mercy and forbearance before.
IRRESPONSIBILITY. He was responsible for Kaname. His greater duty lay with his classmates. He had left them in a precarious situation.
She had been in danger. He reduced that danger. They came under considerable attack together. They escaped that danger together. But, it was a text book case of ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire.’ With the nose of a veritable Hound of Hell, Gauron found them, piloting Codarl. The rickety RK92 never stood a chance. He would be only a memory in small number of peoples’ minds if Sgt. Weber hadn’t glided in when he did.
Still, back in a place he was familiar with---battle---he had not felt all of the things he normally felt at such times.
FEAR was there, but he no longer had much trouble with that. But, now it was fear for Kaname.
ANGER was surprisingly absent. A great deal of that was due to shock and surprise---he had thought that a shot to the head had erased Gauron from this earth. Nonetheless, the anger did not build when he realized who he faced. It was more important to focus on Kaname, to see if there was any way she could make her escape while he died.
PRIDE was not in evidence. He made no last minute heroic move, convinced that he had to go down fighting. It was not a priority for him with Kaname there and in danger.
He and Kaname had made their way into the forest. They arrived back at the base too late---the rescue aircraft had all left. They had run alongside, watching the planes lift their ponderous bulk skyward. There was no time for them to mourn or cry. Wounded, he lead her deep into the woods again, where they found Sgt. Weber, worse for weare after his encounter with the mysterious Arm Slave.
Kaname did not take kindly to some of his orders. They argued. Her attitude towards him took a new turn. They connected on an emotional level he had not known existed within him. It gave rise to feelings that he had no way to interpret. It was not merely friendship, and he had trouble enough with that concept. He could do research on that feeling, but what would that do? There was no written frame of reference comparable to his own? Just how many people had been through what he had? Nonetheless, he had his suspicions. He would have to see how things evolved, one baby step at a time. He had to learn to walk before he worried about running.
He had put his FAITH in Kaname that afternoon. He had practiced RESTRAINT and MODERATION. After a rocky start, he made headway in FAIRNESS, THOGHTFULNESS, and DISCRETION.
There had been another moment that now hung before his eyes, tantalizingly close, but still lost in the dusty wreckage of time. When he had visited her in the hospital---and she finally realized he had been standing there---her reaction was that of great joy. For him. Since that time, part of him wanted to see that reaction again. Kaname’s reactions to him changed back at school---it was her domain after all, and she was no longer feeling weak and vulnerable---but there was still some undercurrent in their relationship that left him adrift, but heading for land.
Though he didn’t know how to recognize it at the time, he had begin to feel HOPE, DESIRE, and EXPECTATION.
The seeds of TRUST were growing, as were the tiny roots of BENEVOLENCE.
Of course, relationships---like life itself---seem to have variable topography. He made Kaname ecstatic by asking her to an island. She turned rigid and unfriendly when she found out it was Mithril’s island. She had shown him great kindness and concern when he had returned from an abortive fight with Gauron, having seen Sgt. Major Mao roll by on a stretcher. He had reacted badly. He had hurt her.
GUILT. He had wanted to take the whole world on his shoulders, to protect everyone. He found he could not, and sunk within a sucking swamp of self-recrimination.
BITTERNESS. He had cursed his new situation. An Arm Slave with fluky technology. The inability to protect his friends. Dissatisfaction with everything that had happened when he took on his assignment guarding Kaname.
THOUGHTLESSNESS. He was in no mood to have anyone point out the irrationalness of his thoughts. His handling of Kaname had been rough, unkind, and uncalled for.
But, they had reconciled. He had found it within himself to apologize. Furthermore, after they had saved each other fighting a traitor, he had gone on to share his feelings with her. It was a GENEROSITY he hadn’t known he was capable. The words he chose gave hope that WISDOM had not been one of the virtues left out of his duffel bag when he was sent into this world.
He even went as far to take her to his favorite fishing place. He had planned that activity before the unexpected and harrowing experiences they both went through. He wrapped HOPE, FAITH, and CHARITY together when he admitted to her that he felt like he could do anything when she was around. It felt like the truth. He had never felt that way towards anyone ever before.
That had been before Ayame was taken ill. That had been before Kaname had lashed out at him and spoken such harsh words. People had been angry at him before---some allies had even been angry enough to want to kill him. Their reactions had meant nothing. Kaname’s reaction had him turned inward, treading places he had never walked before---going further, perhaps, than it was wise to go. Could he make his way back out again?
Sousuke purposefully smashed his fish hard against the corner of the control console. It hurt. It hurt a great deal. That helped him focus on the mission at hand. Kaname was not here. She wasn’t even on the same continent. Like so many other things, she may only be a memory. He had to move on.
“Urzu 7, this is Urzu 2, do you copy?”
“This is Urzu 7. I hear you, Sgt. Major.”
“Do you see anything in your area, Soususke? The troops have found an opening, blown it, and headed inside. If there’s any shit to hit the fan, we should expect the crap to start flying pretty soon now. Keep a sharp eye out. “
“Negative. No movement yet, Urzu 2. The radar is severely hampered, and the hot sand has blurred the infra-red. But, we can assume the enemy will face similar handicaps.”
“The GPS is still working. You should be able to tell my location and that of Urzu 6. Contact me immediately the moment you see anything, even a single person. Urzu 2, out.”
Sousuke continued his patrol. He was somewhat annoyed, and that blunted his thoughts of the past for a while. Here he was at Abu Simbel---a dream location---and he literally couldn’t see anything. For a moment, he thought that he would gladly be facing three Arm Slaves in a clear sunny day, just as long as he could at least get an unobstructed view of the temples.
As it turned out, he was able to get part of his wish. Walking his machine near to the sheer sandstone rock face to the west of the temples, he caught sight of some faint lights. They highlighted a rectangular space---moving closer, he could tell it was an opening. Huge metal doors, disguised to match the rock, had swung open. There were human figures standing in the opening---they looked to have various types of detection equipment. The IFF system did not identify them as friendlies.
Sousuke would save them the trouble of detecting him. Two shots from his Bofors cleared the area of intact living bodies.
“Urzu 2, this is Urzu 7. Do you copy?”
“This is Urzu 2, do you have something sergeant?”
“Yes.” Sousuke described the particulars. “The gate and hallway beyond appear large. The echo imaging system is not fully functional, but the passageway seems to be broad enough and high enough for Arm Slave Traffic. What are my instructions, Sgt. Major?”
There was a pause in the conversation. As Sousuke waited for a reply, he noted something on his radar. Two possible blips suggested something heading up the passageway in his direction.
“Urzu 2, I think I have company coming. I am at a disadvantage here, can I step inside the structure and face them on equal terms? I believe the element of surprise had been preserved despite my earlier actions. If they get much further, they will see the aftermath of the confrontation.”
“Sousuke, Kurz is on his way. ETA is five minutes. Do what you feel is right, but DON’T bite off more than you can chew. Do you understand me?”
“I understand, Sgt. Major. I’m going in. Urzu 7, out.”
********************************************
"Time . . . is less likely to bring favor to the victor than to the vanquished. . . An offensive war requires above all a quick, irresistible decision.”
That quote from Carl Von Clausewitz had always been engraved in Sousuke’s heart. He made use of it in battle, and at school. It had saved him in the former. It earned him no end of trouble in the latter. No doubt, that was because the famous Prussian’s work was titled ‘On War,’ and not ‘On School.”
On this day, ‘On War’ was just what he needed. He tore through the two Arm Slaves without too much resistance. The 'Shadow Class' mechas were formidable machines, but the pilots were unimpressive. He had the advantage in surprise and intention. The only thing in their favor was numbers.
On entering the doorway to the tunnel, Sousuke had remembered a quote from Judges 1:19:
“And the Lord was with Judah; and he drave out the inhabitants of the mountain; but he could not drive out the inhabitants of the valley, for they had chariots of iron.”
For a moment he had felt the quick pulse of fear, until he realized that he too sat in a modern chariot of iron.
The iron beasts on both sides were armed with guns and missiles. None had Lambda driver technology. Their speed and armor were about equal. The M9 auxiliary features were superior, but would not play a role in this close in battle.
“Presence of mind . . . is nothing but an increased capacity of dealing with the unexpected.”
Another quote from Clausewitz, and a good indication of the superiority Sousuke had over his adversaries.
The two pilots froze, when confronted with an unexpected threat. One Arm Slave remained unmoving, blocking the fire zone for the one behind it. Rather than act, the obstructed pilot was content to follow his partner’s lead. His partner never had the chance to lead.
Sousuke’s first volley of cannon fire was aimed to destroy or disable the enemy’s hand held weaponry. He did that swiftly and efficiently. With tunnel integrity important, he refrained from firing missiles. Charging in abruptly, he pushed the first fumbling Shadow firmly against the other, hampering its ability to fight. A well placed series of stabs with the Anti-Armor dagger destroyed both man and machine.
Walking his M9 around the first machine, he paid no attention to the blood mixed in with the gusher of escaping hydraulic fluid. Checking first for additional threats, he watched coldly as the second Shadow extricated itself from the wreckage of its fellow. The pilot must see Sousuke standing over him with a 57mm cannon pointed straight at him. The mecha raised its arms---the pilot was trusting in the universal signal of surrender. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had waved a white flag. On this mission, no one was to be left standing and no machine was to be left in one piece.
The morality of the situation pulled at Sousuke’s heart strings. He kept asking himself ‘what would Kaname think?’ That question had no place here. Only one thing mattered: the objective.
The justification was simple, supplied by a quote from Thucydides in his ‘History of the Peloponnesian War” :
“The strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.”
Sousuke decided to save ammunition. Armed again with the Anti-Armor dagger, he finished off the second A.S. and its pilot. He felt sick for a moment. His recent soul searching had left him open to the arrows and stings of conscience, stripping the layers of emotional armor he had wrapped himself over the years.
Was he any better off for all of his judgment, or had he made himself weaker, more vulnerable? He was mentally and emotionally exhausted, but he had to push forward.
His mind had fixated on quotes he had accumulated over the years, and one rang clear and true, the missive of an anonymous Spartan:
“Any man can fight refreshed and full of rest. A great soldier is when they fight valiantly drained of all strengths, whom is cold and tired, who also have not eaten or drank in weeks.”
In a strange way, Sousuke felt a kinship with that man, and countless other faceless soldiers who had striven for some goal at some time in history. How many of them were hardened killing machines? Had they all been destined to a short life of violence and death? Was their very participation in battle a sin? Or, were they valiant men doing what they must, making sacrifices in spirit as well as body in order to reach their objectives?
Was there any place for a man like that---or a boy like that---amongst individuals who did not fight and did not kill? Was he an outsider at school in more ways than simply being the most recent transfer? Did he have any right to even think about Kaname---she was not tainted with the stains and stench of war. Would she remain that way if he stayed close to her? Could she suffer something worse if he did not?
Sousuke dredged up a number of quotes he had taken strength from in the past:
“War is an evil thing; but to submit to the dictation of other states is worse.... Freedom, if we hold fast to it, will ultimately restore our losses, but submission will mean permanent loss of all that we value.... To you who call yourselves men of peace, I say: You are not safe unless you have men of action on your side.”
Those words of Thucydides touched a nerve in Sousuke. Some truths were as strong in 400 B.C. as they were now.
Another quote from the ancient Greek general and historian spoke to him personally, and went a long way to describe the unspoken mission statement of Mithril:
"The likeliest way of securing peace is this: only to use one's power in the cause of justice, but to make it perfectly plain that one is resolved not to tolerate aggression.”
Sousuke knew that he did not enjoy killing, and was full aware that he found no satisfaction in the pain and suffering he caused.
“War is just when it is necessary; arms are permissible when there is no hope except in arms.“
That was from Niccolo Machiavelli, in ‘The Prince.’ Sousuke would judge this mission to be a necessity, not a luxury. It was not a matter of national posturing or the never ending maneuvering for power and resources.
“The condition of freedom is risk.”
The famous quote from Goethe was also true, Sousuke maintained. If no one was willing to take the risk, the privileges and pleasures that many people took for granted would fall by the wayside. No doubt they would then wonder why no one stepped forward to help them, when the made no such effort themselves.
There was no doubt what could happen if truckload after truckload of Destroying Angel mushrooms or processed and concentrated Amanitin made it into the hands of fanatic and schemers.
Walking his M9 deeper into the tunnel system, Sousuke pondered a major point.
Did he make a difference?
If he were not sitting in this Arm Slave, would someone else be? If he went on to choose, exclusively, a world of school, bus trips, art class, and amusement parks, would the world suffer from his absence as a skilled and dedicated fighter. Would innocent people be killed or injured, because his place was taken by someone with a chip on his shoulder, or a hole where a conscience once was?
He knew all too well what could happen if incompetent soldiers were handed a task beyond the level of their skills. Even good soldiers could run into serious troubles when they were out-manned or were on the short end of the technology stick. His mind naturally traveled back to his adoptive homeland. The faces of Gray, Jackson, Majest, Bill, and Andy floated past. He remembered some of the words they had shared, good and bad. It all prompted him to recall a quote from Rudyard Kipling:
“When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains,
And the women come out to cut up what remains,
Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains,
An' go to your Gawd like a soldier.”
They had gone to their graves like soldiers, fighting to the end. They had no means with which to fight Gauron. That maniac had a Lambda Driver equipped A.S. None of them did. Sousuke’s absence form the immediate vicinity spelled all of their dooms. It was not the point of eternal guilt he was drawn to. It was the fact that he was the only one who could pilot Arbalest. Perhaps there were people in the higher command who simply viewed him as a precious commodity because of that fact. Could he afford to think of himself in such terms? Could the world afford him not to?
Kaname was a valuable commodity too, in some peoples’ eyes.
For Sousuke, she had grown to be more than a mission.
If he did not resume his cover at Jindai High School, Kaname would no doubt still be protected by someone, as long as Mithril felt that the benefits outweighed the cost and the risk. Would he be able to resume his role as bodyguard?
Sousuke also had the emotional scars---and physical marks---that spoke of the dangers of PRIDE, WRATH, HATE, and REVENGE. The scars he had earned through IRRESPONSIBILITY, IMPATIENCE, and SELFISHNESS were no less demonstrative. There were plenty of soldiers who never learned those lessons, or simply did not care.
His earliest days as an Arm Slave pilot were not all about knights, their horses, and shining armor. He had been a crusader for justice and freedom, but he had no qualms at using whatever method seemed likely to get the job done. Orders were followed because they set forth a goal that paralleled his own desires and sense of need. The battle in Guatemala was a wake up call for him. He had come close to being expelled from Mithril. It had been very possible that he would have spent the rest of his life in a foreign prison, if the truths had not been uncovered. Sgt. Major Mao and Sgt. Weber had been forced to put their own careers on the line to expose the lies.
It could have gone worse than that. The captives had already been killed. But, had they been alive, his attack against orders could have led to their death---though unlikely, political gyrations still might have been able to secure their release. He was forced to consider the potential ramifications of his rebellious rush into battle.
He had been following orders in Columbia. The drug runners were being routed at their laboratories, and the kingpins were being dragged from their homes. The enemy forces had been large in number but short on modern war equipment. Still, antiquated weapons in the hands of desperate men made the mission anything but a cake walk.
All of his attention had been focused on the destruction of as many evil men as possible; the protection of his squad mates; and his own welfare. The power at his command---the sheer destructive force of a single M9---was a thing of SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS, ARROGANCE, and JUDGING. He had made certain to load his weapons with sufficient rounds. There had been no negligence in his pre-fight systems check-ups. But, he had forgotten to pack PRUDENCE, TEMPERENCE, and JUSTICE.
Too intent on chasing and silencing an armored car, he never saw a woman and her baby. In a hurry, he vaulted a series of low huts, landing in what a rough hurried scan had showed was an empty street. The street had not been empty. The mangled and bloody remains showed that much. That terrible event, as drastic and unfortunate as it was, served as a teaching point. But it took a while for the lesson to sink in.
Fortunately for him---and the countless men and women who he would fight for across the years---the incident also started Sousuke down a path where he began thinking about the welfare of other people than himself. That journey would take time. Others would suffer before he reached his destination.
He had been acting within mission parameters in Cambodia. The terrorist base was situated in the middle of a small village, but the villagers were not supporters of the cause. The fighting had been fierce, thanks to clever tricks and traps in the difficult terrain. The battle was taking the lives of innocents---there was no doubt of that. But, the Mithril troops had broadcast a warning and allowed some time for escape. Melissa had been pinned down by a number of groups of enemy warriors---each group armed with modern ATGMs. Her M9 was stuck, its leg sunk in a deep pit.
Sousuke did not bother surveying the surroundings. His eye went quick to one particular structure. Once he had a notion, he acted. The only thing on his mind was rescuing his squad leader, no matter what price he had to pay. There were certain costs he did not have time enough or compassion enough to reckon.
A huge multi-story tower had been erected, used as an observation point and a platform for snipers and long range interdiction weapons. Kurz had cleaned out that rat’s nest early in the battle. The structure stood near the entrenched groups of men threatening Sgt. Major Mao. A number of hits on the nearest legs of the tower---accomplished by volleys of Javelin missiles---brought the edifice crashing down on the enemy.
The falling tower also crashed through the roof of the village hospital. Fortunately, most of the patients had been ambulatory. The few that had not been, died that day.
Were his earlier actions around Kaname cut from the same cloth? Had he inconvenienced her or hurt her by rushing ever onward, oblivious to her thoughts and desires? Did his slow-growing understanding of her come too late? Did he put one aspect of her life at higher priority than it needed, while crushing the life out of the others. Was there any reason she should want to see him again?
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Sousuke was heading deeper underground. If it hadn’t have been for serendipity, he never would have found this lair. The presence of a ill-meant and destructive facilities underneath temples highlighting the heights of man’s creativity had Sousuke thinking about duality.
The Sphinx came to mind.
Ask some people about the Sphinx, and they will mention the Great Sphinx of Egypt, rediscovered by the Western world when Napoleon’s soldiers came across it in the 1700s. Few people were not familiar with the crouching leonine form and its weathered pharoah head.
But, that was not the only such monument in Egypt---or the world, for that matter. Assyria, amongst other nations, had altars and other structures that depicted creatures with the body of a beast and the head of a man or king.
In Egypt, lesser sphinxes, when carved crouching, were meant as guardians against evil. When carved to be standing, they were meant to represent conquerors.
To anyone well versed in ancient Greek stories, the first sphinxes were something totally different---they were ghostlike monsters that carried off children, and who were present at the scene of fatal fights. The furthest things from guardians.
Other people, familiar with the better known tale of Oedipus, would know the Sphinx as a terrible rapacious beast plaguing Thebes. That mysterious creature---with the body of a winged lion and the head of a woman---frequented the highway leading to Thebes. To each who passed her lair, the Sphinx addressed the question, "What animal is it that in the morning goes on four feet, at noon on two feet, and in the evening on three feet?" Those who failed to answer her riddle she destroyed.
Oedipus declared the answer to be man himself, who in childhood crawled upon his hands and knees, in manhood stood erect, and in old age shuffled along supporting himself by a staff.
Discovering one who knew the answer to her riddle, the sphinx cast herself from the cliff which bordered the road and perished.
Sousuke knew that there was still another answer to the riddle of the sphinx, an answer best revealed by a consideration of the Pythagorean values of numbers. The 4, the 2, and the 3 produce the sum of 9, which is the natural number of man and also of the lower worlds. The 4 represents the ignorant man, the 2 the intellectual man, and the 3 the spiritual man. Infant humanity walks on four legs, evolving humanity on two legs, and to the power of his own mind the redeemed and illumined magus adds the staff of wisdom. The sphinx is therefore the mystery of Nature, the embodiment of the secret doctrine, and all who cannot solve her riddle perish. To pass the sphinx is to attain personal immortality.
In a sense, Sousuke faced the Sphinx today. The riddle was no less difficult. Could he be a soldier, fight for the good of mankind, and still be fit for society. If he toned down the characteristics that served him so well in battle---in order to merge better at school and civilized institutions---would it detract from his prowess as a fighter. Taking that question further, he wondered what would happen if he followed Kaname’s wishes. If he became more like other ‘normal’ boys, would it limit his ability to protect her? Was there some way he could have his cake and eat it too? Could he become more fit as a warrior, as well as better suited for every day life? Could he establish his own meaningful personal immortality?
It may be a moot point.
Nonetheless, he saw an image of Kaname with the head of Anubis. With each explosion at school, she add more weight to his heart. With every battle he left to fight in, she added even more. Seeing the figurative blood on his hands, would she take the feather away, and let his heart fall into the eager mouth of Ammut? If Kaname ever came to mean more to him---and he was not yet certain he was capable of such a step---would he have to choose between Kaname and Mithril? Would they let him go? Would she wait?
Sousuke was still distracted when the woman ran out in front of his arm slave. Throwing the control lever to the side, he managed to evade her. This was not a repeat of the dark days gone by. The woman was waving her arms. He turned up the external microphones. She was claiming to be a captive, a forced laborer at the underground base. He did not see her holstered pistol until too late.
Sousuke’s orders had been unambiguous.
“Kill any f@cking person you see, Sousuke. Anybody down in one of those holes is too dangerous, either in what they have done….. what they possess….. or what they know. This isn’t Sunday school. We get no points for being nice. The threat ends, we win. The danger moves elsewhere, we lose.” Sgt. Major Mao had been insistent.
The woman was young, with long dark hair. That, and her contour, reminded Sousuke of Kaname. It hadn’t been a long pause, but it proved more than sufficient.
Too late, Sousuke caught a look at the men behind that girl. Two groups of two men each, both armed with a medium sized ATGM and spare missile tubes. The first missile fired before he could get a shot off. The imapact threw his M9 backward sharply. It tumbled ass over teacups, landing on its metallic rump. Sparks shot out from power couplings, and a small trickle of hydraulic fluid trickled down the side of the machine. His Bofors was thirty feet away from him. He was dead center in the cross-hairs of the next fire team.
As Sousuke reached back for the Hellbore, the second ATGM team and their weapon exploded, splattered against the walls and floor of the tunnel. The girl had turned an ran, but she too ended up as a grotesque set of bloody hieroglyphics. Soon, the entire force had been obliterated.
“Sitting down on the job, eh Sousuke? Never thought I’d see the day. That will win me a beer from Melissa. Maybe something more. Oh Yeh!!!” It was Kurz. Sniper rifle out, he had made short work of the terrorists and their helpers. “She WAS cute, amigo. But you picked one Hell of a time to go through puberty!”
Sousuke knew one thing already. The greatest damage he took from this incident was not to his Arm Slave. He would be hearing about this from Kurz for a long time.
“I offer my thanks. That was indeed too close.” Sousuke was not very good yet at jokes or comebacks. Nevertheless, the situation clearly called for some reply. “They looked inclined to be friendly until I asked the girl for her phone number and address. The men all encouraged her until I mentioned that the number was for Kurz Weber. That’s when they fired.”
“Yes, that DOES make sense Sousuke old boy.” Kurz laughed, seeing the flaw in his friend’s tentative try at repartee. “The men fired. They were jealous of good old Kurzeroo, Who could ever hope to follow me?”
Kurz patched in a call to Melissa, who checked in on Sousuke for a mission update and an accounting of the damage he had suffered.
“I have lost 50% function in the left arm, but all other systems and weapons are operational. We are about to head into a large expanse. It appears to be a large underground garage and loading area. The scanner shows an number of 18-wheeled trucks….. A pen for camels….. Lifting machinery….. And incompletely assembled Arm Slaves of the 'Shadow' type.” Sousuke flipped through various optical devices. “I am picking up a large number of heat sources around the trucks. No doubt the terrorists are in the process of loading cargo.”
“Terminate everybody and everything with extreme prejudice. I expect----” The transmission halted for a while, then came back on.
“Destroy all remaining equipment and facilities as quickly as possible. We will need to move out immediately, if not sooner. The ground troops found a PC and a number of discs detailing names, dates, buyers, and shipment details. We caught them in time, it seems. But, aside from those three trucks you intercepted, three additional vehicles left yesterday, They will have been loaded aboard the 'William Shouten,' a 25,000 ton container ship registered out of Mauritius. There could be more than one hundred containers on board that ship. If we can’t identify the ones we need, it will be necessary to send the entire ship to the bottom.”
“But Sis, why don’t we wait until the ship reaches the sea and have *Danaan* take her out?” Kurz asked a valid question.
“We don’t have time. If word of our little shindig here reached the wrong ears, who know how much stuff they could toss off or smuggle out.”
“Why not an air strike, immediately, while the ship is still at anchor?” Sousuke asked the obvious question. “A cruise missile, with a low yield conventional warhead, would also suffice.”
“Politics and secrets, Sousuke. The shit we keep our hands clean of. The men in Egypt who helped secret us into the country did so with one proviso. There can be no large scale and newsworthy attacks on large scale targets like ports, harbors, airports, or points of commerce. Our little skirmish will be easy to cover up. Literally. The desert sands ought to fill in the holes we made.” Melissa switched to another channel momentarily, then switched back.
“No more talk. Get to work. I’m heading out at top speed. Follow when you can.”
Sousuke was not slow to learn from the risk he had put himself in by woolgathering. Nonetheless, he revisited Clausewitz:
“In strategy surprise becomes more feasible the closer it occurs to the tactical realm, and more difficult, the more it approaches the higher levels of policy."
Mithril appeared intent on taking the higher road. They had promised not to attack high visibility targets within Egypt by politically noticeable means, and would refrain from doing so. An attack on a single cargo ship---carried out by unknown forces---could easily be attributed to some terrorist group or underground faction. A strike by aircraft or missile could very easily draw Israel into a situation its hands were clean of. Men who backed Mithril---and kept her secrets---may become less inclined to do so if something like that happened.
Sousuke just hoped that the loss of surprise wouldn’t be costly.
He and Kurz would need to finish their job, then haul ass. That’s exactly what they did. The sands clearing, Sousuke turned his viewers to the rear. He got the glimpse of Abu Simbel that he had always wished for as they were heading out.
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End of part 2
