CH 5

5. The Dying Swan

The fact that even Fraw Bow was a target of this ‘local conscription’ showed that all of the young people currently fighting aboard the Trojan Horse were doing so because of military coercion.

The organizational structure of the ship reflected the Earth Federation Forces’ expectations for them. If the theory of Newtypes, the revolutionary transformation of humanity, was true, then the grim desire was to test the novice crew of the Trojan Horse in line with that popular theory, to see how long they could survive, and if they did, the military leadership hoped that the youths’ Newtype abilities would flourish into something that could be used as a strategic asset.

But more than any of that, the ultimate reason came down to the lack of manpower in the EFF. There were some regular soldiers and pilots posted to the Trojan Horse, but no one seemed inclined to listen to acting captain and recent officer cadet Bright Noah. The White Base was the first instance of an ensign commanding a battleship, so it was no wonder that he’d be looked down upon.

And so, after the Trojan Horse returned to space once again, in the runup to its participation in the next major offensive, it entered Side 6, which preceded the Moon along its orbit, under the pretext that the ship was facing disaster.

If it was by itself it would be regarded as a ship that had fallen behind the rest of its fleet, and emergency entry would be granted into the neutral colonies, as long as its weapon systems were sealed off. That was a new convention in the era of space immigration. In the case of the Trojan Horse, it was fortunate that Bright was the acting captain, and that they didn’t have to undergo something like a mobile suit search, which would have created more problems.

It was on this colony that Amuro would be reunited with his father, sucked out into space during the battle in Side 7. Nearly half a year had passed since then, and their meeting was entirely a coincidence. The stop was an unexpected bit of free time that had been granted to the White Base crew as they headed towards the battlefield, so Amuro had gone into town for the first time in ages.

Thinking of visiting a bookstore, Amuro was just about to go in when his father came out of the door. Tem Ray took his son to a small prefabricated shack owned by a junk dealer, where he was being allowed to stay for free. Amuro didn’t make any attempt to explain the circumstances that had brought him to this remote colony, partly because his father was clearly exhibiting symptoms of oxygen starvation and mild amnesia, the consequences of drifting through space.

Inside the dilapidated prefab room, his father showed Amuro his computer setup and told him, “Even if this is a neutral side, that doesn’t mean it’s disconnected from the war. Both the Zeons and the Federation come here, and as much as they say they’re on shore leave this is still an era where mobile suits are used to fight asymmetric battles. Thanks to that, I’ve been able to gather information on the enemy’s mobile suits as well.”

“Okay…”

“Zeon’s currently working on the successor to the Zaku. Which means that you need to install my Tem-type access card into the Gundam, so that it’s able to counter it, or else you’ll get taken out by the Red Comet. I’ve been keeping a low profile as a civilian, using the information I can obtain in this neutral side and devoting myself to technical development, and this is the result of my hard work. Put one of these into the mobile suit you’re using.”

Amuro was in uniform, so it was likely Tem could tell he was in the military. As for knowing that he was a pilot despite hearing nothing said along those lines, perhaps it was possible he remembered seeing Amuro get into the Gundam.

At times like this his father showed an inclination to judge things based on his own values alone, and he launched into a thoroughly detailed explanation of how the cards connected. It was an aspect of him that Amuro’s mother had loathed. Once he had finished ranting, he sunk down into his desk, buried under second hand computer parts, and began tapping away at an outdated keyboard, humming to himself.

It sounded like an old pop song, one that Amuro didn’t know.

The access cards in his hand, the cumulation of all of his father’s research, felt terribly light and insignificant.

“Why don’t you come back to the Trojan Horse with me? You’d be able to go back to Side 7…”

“Don’t be an idiot. I’m only disguised as a civilian! My intelligence gathering must continue. Can’t you tell that by looking?” His father’s face contorted into something frightening. “Get going! You’re a soldier now, right!?”

“Ah, yes…” With his father’s rebuke at his back, Amuro ran down the external stairwell of the prefab hut, sliding between the mountains of junk. One of them had the head of an early model Zaku placed at its peak. He threw the stack of access cards into the street.

“Fine! Do whatever you want!”

He was mystified by the unbelievable amount of tears spilling down his face.

⌘

The next day.

Receiving permission from acting Captain Bright, Amuro borrowed a buggy and went to visit his father again. Tem Ray was operating a mobile crane, following the orders of the junkyard owner, a man who had no shame regarding his protruding gut. Tem’s profile was serene, not a care in the world. If his father had become the favorite pet of a mediocre president of a local junk shop there was no way that Amuro could call out, and he had no choice but to pretend like he was just passing by. Even Amuro couldn’t stay in this space colony forever.

So that’s Dad…

Under that head of brittle, dried out hair was still a brain that had steered the development of the Federation’s new mobile suit on Side 7. Even if it was sorting through junk, if his father intended to gather intelligence on the enemy by doing so, it must have been satisfying work for him, work which he could be happy doing. Amuro was simply curious to see him using his threadbare business suit as a substitute for coveralls. Unable to muster the courage to say hello to the president, Amuro returned to the ship.

⌘

However, it started to rain on the way back. It happened just as he noticed that there appeared to be something like a lake over to his left. There were gentle hills on either side, grassy and dotted with groves of trees. Inside the rain, which shook like a thin film, Amuro saw a swan flying above the trees and towards the lake.

{Poor thing…}

At first he thought the swan was speaking to him, but then he felt someone else’s consciousness there. “What the–!?” Attracted by the swan, he parked the car beside the lakeside cottage and walked around it. He wasn’t soaked by the rain just yet, and he stood under the eaves of the cottage’s lonely looking entrance. He had no other option, not when his buggy didn’t have a top to keep the elements out and he didn’t feel like going back to his comrades. When he thought about what he was going to do about his father, it made these kinds of indistinct moments seem precious.

{Poor thing…}

Those words weren’t words, so much as they felt like the mind itself. “Hm?” He could understand the direction it was coming from, and he circled to the veranda on the left.

*Pssssshhhh* Beyond the drizzle, a girl sat facing the lake. She had bluish-black hair, parted at the center, and she was wearing a plain garment made from a slightly drab fabric the color of mugwort flowers. The rattan chair she sat on had the same sort of drabness to it.

As if it was saying, ‘Enough, I’ve flown far enough,’ the swan extended its neck, gently flopping onto the surface of the lake, which was marked by more rippling raindrops than there were stars in the sky. The girl stared at the water.

*Psssshhhhh* Trying to escape the film of rain, Amuro walked towards the veranda.

“!” The accusatory eyes flashed an emerald green.

Gritting his teeth, Amuro steeled himself to speak to this brown-skinned stranger. He wasn’t interested in asking why she thought such a thing. What he wanted to know was how her consciousness had flown like that. “Sorry. For appearing so suddenly…”

“…Yes?”

“Did you like that bird?” The soles of his shoes caused the wooden steps to creak unceremoniously, and it made him feel nervous.

“Is there anyone who hates something beautiful? Is it not sad to watch it grow old and die?” The girl didn’t meet Amuro’s gaze, staring at her knees. “Did you not feel anything?” When she looked up at him, there was anger in her eyes.

“Ah, no, that’s not what I was asking…um…that swan was dying, but it flew so bravely, like it was being called to you…” The more he tried to put it into words the more it fell apart, until eventually he just held his tongue and stood there loglike. He was already asking himself why he had spoken to her so familiarly. They should have been seeing each other eye to eye, but Amuro could feel himself being absorbed into her. In which case, wasn’t it wrong to address her in the second person?

He couldn’t remember anything. He couldn’t see anything. The only thing in Amuro’s eyes was the girl there.

“…It’s stopped.” She was already standing by the time he registered her voice. Amuro watched the shadow of the swan disappear into the surface of the lake, and the clouds turn into vertical streaks as they were carried by the rising air current. The girl’s breath was hot and heavy. Taking notice of it, Amuro was thrilled by the feeling of sensuality, and for the first time he looked into her emerald green eyes. Even with the inky blackness of her pupils, it was enough to take his breath away.

“You have very beautiful eyes.” Leaving those words ringing in Amuro’s ears, the girl headed for the clear lake and took flight. That’s how it looked to him.

This was the first encounter between Amuro and Lalah Sune.