Editing HEAVY OBJECT:Volume11 Chapter 1 (section)

===Part 10===

Meanwhile in the maintenance base zone, Frolaytia Capistrano quietly slipped out of the command room.

Once in the hallway, she pulled out a handheld device, made a few operations with her fingertip, and then heard a voice from the side.

It was Lieutenant Meena Stinger of Special Platoon 15.

“Is something wrong, major?”

“Yes.”

Frolaytia halted her work and put the device in her pocket.

Nothing good would come from letting the Black Uniforms know she was setting up a communications route that circumvented the military’s monitoring. No matter what her reasons, they would strictly compare her actions to the military regulations and punish her.

“We’ve received an unpleasant report from the intelligence division. Not that they often send us any cheerful news.”

“Heh heh. As a Black Uniform, I think I know what you mean.”

A look of curiosity flashed behind Meena’s glasses and she urged Frolaytia to continue.

“If telling me would not violate security policies…”

“Of course.”

Frolaytia nodded, crossed her arms such that they lifted her breasts, and leaned against the hallway wall.

“I’ll omit the details, but the term ‘drug war’ is starting to show up.”

“Oh, my.”

Simply put, a drug war was when the military or government (instead of a gang or the mafia) led the production, synthesis, and selling of drugs. That was of course not permitted as an official strategy, but rumor had it every world power was doing something similar.

Some said it was to contaminate enemy safe countries without the international criticism that came from bombs or poison gas.

Some said the drugs were sold even to their own people to make money.

“A military commentator once laughed in front of the camera and said it was meaningless to develop Objects and strategic weapons to destroy the enemy home country. He said it would be faster to open a national restaurant chain that sells the kind of greasy burgers that invite in the grim reaper of adult diseases. But this drug war is far crueler than some joke.”

“I know exactly what you mean, major.” Meena slowly breathed out. “That is exactly where our specialty lies. I apologize for being so rude before, but surprise inspections are essential to deal with that kind of drug war.”

“I understand. If white powder and rock candy are hidden inside handheld games and electric guitars, the military’s transport routes can be used for their delivery business. I allowed the inspection because I understand that, lieutenant.”

“Thank you for your cooperation.” Meena obediently bowed. “The higher ups do not understand how frightening a drug war truly is. I will not name any names, but some officers seem to view it as a necessary evil. Unfortunately, they seem to have trouble imagining that shifting the stage of war from the battlefield countries to the safe countries will also expose themselves and their families to the threat of drugs.”

“They probably innocently believe that their kids are geniuses and angels who will always succeed and never step out of line. All the while, they have no idea those drugs are advertised differently depending on the target’s status, complexes, and personality. Maybe they’re good for your looks or for dieting. Maybe they make you smarter or a better studier. Maybe they make you better at sports or fighting. Maybe they help you overcome your anxiety or make you popular.”

“But once they’ve been told there’s an upside, it can be very hard to stop them, major.”

“The merits of a drug war, hm?”

“I’ve heard it all. One, the military or government can interfere in the market run by the gangs and mafia to destroy any value in it and control the amounts being distributed. Two, it applies indirect damage to the enemy safe countries that can’t be directly attacked. In other words, it increases the crime rate, breeds mistrust of the government, and destroys promising youths who would otherwise have done great things in the future. Three, unlike other weapons, a drug war brings in more money the longer it continues. …Military action is an economic action, so they like the idea of something that actually makes money.”

“So it’s an issue of profit, is it? I’m sure those bigshots in the safe countries are only thinking about number three.”

If war was viewed as an economic activity, then every weapon and unit had a cost to use. Not just each bullet fired, but each day’s worth of food cost money. So the longer war continued, the greater the losses. Even if the war was won, the world’s rules declared it a failure if they did not gain something of greater value than the expenses. In some cases, troops would be ordered to withdraw even though those troops were in a prime position to rout the enemy.

But the drug war actually made money the longer it continued. It was like alchemy. It was a supernatural form of economics that completely ignored the law of conservation of whatever. It was a truly delicious cost-benefit calculation for the desk workers who only saw reality in the progression of a line graph.

Of course, drugs wars looked bad, so no state or military would officially adopt that strategy. But just like the big bang theory, this theory was about as close to proven as a theory could get.

Frolaytia sighed in exasperation and intentionally changed the subject.

“By the way, lieutenant.”

“Yes?”

“You were rummaging around everything for that inspection, so maybe you know something about this. …Thirty-two white phosphorous incendiary grenades – a box’s worth – have gone missing. Any idea where they might have gone?”

“No. We can perform a search if necessary, but that would be a lot of trouble.”

“Yes.” Frolaytia gave an annoyed click of her tongue. “White phosphorous is completely unnecessary to cross a minefield, so if a soldier wanted to grab some extra gear to give them an edge, they would have gone for something else. …One of the soldiers on this mission might be planning to use that white phosphorous to erase something.”

“That transport plane?”

“It seems likely the Capitalist Corporations really did shoot it down, but it was an obviously forceful move. That means they had a good reason for doing so.”

“Something that could prove the existence of a drug war? In other words, something that could be hidden with white phosphorous?”

“Since the incendiary grenades vanished from here, it unfortunately means someone on that mission is planning exactly that.”

“This is serious.”

“The biggest problem is the lack of any real evidence.”

Frolaytia was using the term “drug war”, but she had not mentioned a specific drug. That was the extent of the information her intelligence network could find.

The final piece of the puzzle would be at that crash site.

That would be the Achilles’ heel for whoever was leading the drug war. That was why this forceful rescue operation had been suggested and carried out. If the evidence was turned to ash, they would walk brazenly through the world once more. They would continue their drug war. They would boldly say military action was bringing harm to others for their own country’s benefit and they would ask why swapping the bullets for white powder made a difference. After all, it had always been internationally acceptable for a military to harm others.

They would attack the enemy nation with drugs.

They would limit the amount entering their own country and direct it all to the enemy nation.

They would shield their own people and strike at the enemy.

Frolaytia truly grimaced as she thought through the justifications they would likely use. If a drug war was alchemy, then words were magic. Use them properly, and good could become evil or vice-versa.

“I want to end this here, no matter what it takes.”

“Yes.”

But they still had no definite proof.

Having the entire unit fall back because they were all suspects was not an option. If they did not get their hands on the evidence at the crash site, they could not end the drug war.

It felt like having poison mixed in with an immortality drug.

Frolaytia reached for her bangs with a look of annoyance.

“No, I will end this here.”