Editing HEAVY OBJECT:EX Chapter 3 (section)

===Part 3===

Quenser left the Object maintenance facility and started toward a different building, but he ran across a vehicle having engine trouble on the way.

“What’s this about, Heivia? Did the thing stall out inside the base?”

“Oh, shut up. …Goddammit, I can’t believe this!? Again!? I already opened up the hood and dealt with this!!”

“That’s unusual. Did someone get lax with the maintenance?”

He glanced inside the hood and saw something like white steam rising from within.

“No, it’s bugs.” Heivia sounded utterly disgusted. “I don’t know how they’re getting in, but they must think the dark and cramped engine grill is the perfect bed. You know how you’ll find a ton of them when you turn over a heavy rock? Well, they’re messing with the engine and burning onto the thing.”

“Ugh.”

“And that means I’ve got to use a brush to scrape off the bugs that are burned onto the pipes and stuff. Experimental Battlefield Madagascar can go straight to hell. These strange bugs are everywhere.”

“Well, Heivia, Frolaytia called me in to help with Skuld’s interrogation, so I’ll catch you later!”

“You coldhearted bastard!! And what’s this about interrogating a girl!? Is it gonna be sexy? And how far are you going? Is it gonna be one-on-one between that busty commander in black leather bondage gear and Skuld with a ball gag!? As your mother, I cannot allow that kind of closed-door investigation!!”

Since his awful friend would not stop complaining, Quenser raised his middle finger and continued on to the facility where Frolaytia and Skuld awaited.

The detention barracks were normally used to hold soldiers who had screwed up and it normally ate up maintenance costs without getting much use, but the problem was how indispensable it was at times. That may have been why Frolaytia seemed to be in a bad mood as she leaned against the wall with her arms crossed.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“Well, I’m just watching, so I’m ready when you are. This place really is packed full of Faith Organization people, isn’t it?”

“There are 203 including the Elite, so it’s like a small school. The lower level has the group cells and the upper level has the individual cells.”

Still leaning against the wall, Frolaytia used her chin to gesture down a corridor blocked by metal bars and doors at a few points. One wall contained a row of doors with peepholes and the other wall contained a row of windows covered with a thick wire mesh. The signs painted on the walls and floor indicated there was a stairway at the end.

The cells behind the bars had originally been individual cells, but they had been left with no choice but to throw up to about ten people into each one. While they had air conditioning, they had to share the blanket and toilet, so it was not exactly a comfortable living space.

“Skuld has her own cell, but the others are all in there together. Of course, asking for funding to expand the detention barracks would be an embarrassment to our unit.”

Frolaytia opened a nearby door.

Instead of Skuld’s interrogation room, it was the neighboring room. One wall was a one-way mirror and the rest of the room was filled with flat screen monitors and analysis equipment. Two indoorsy-looking soldiers were already in there. They may have been specialists in determining the veracity of a statement based on the speaker’s expression and eye movements.

The room beyond the special mirror had a table and two chairs just like a scene from a police drama. However, the furniture was bolted to the floor and the girl in one chair had her arms handcuffed to the top of the table.

It was Skuld.

She was the Trinity Style’s Pilot Elite. Or rather, she was ''one of'' its Elites.

On the other hand, the interrogator sitting across from her looked to be from the intelligence division.

The woman wore her uniform perfectly by the book in a different way than Frolaytia did. She had long black hair, thin-framed glasses, and giant breasts.

“Damn, I need to be careful. If I’m not, I might accidentally call her ‘Class Rep’.”

“Quenser, the intercom is active.”

He quickly began to cough, but the blushing glasses woman beyond the one-way mirror could not stop her shoulders from trembling.

Frolaytia casually spoke into the microphone sitting on top of the equipment.

“Sorry about killing your enthusiasm like that, Second Lieutenant Elfily, but duty is duty. Please get this started.”

“Understood. …Now, let’s try this again. Nice to meet you. My name is Elfily Classic. I belong to the 37th’s intelligence division and my rank is second lieutenant. I have been placed in charge of your interrogation.”

“…”

“Now for some jabs. How about we start with what is protected by international law? What is your name and affiliation? …Telling me that should not qualify as treason.”

After her name, the discussion continued to age, blood type, birthplace, height, and weight. It was all personal information, but it was made to gradually dig into one’s privacy and complexes. The questions were sometimes gentle and sometimes rude. It was all so varied that Quenser could not tell what the point of the questions was.

“She called these jabs, remember?” commented Frolaytia. “We’re observing the girl’s reactions.”

“?”

“This room is filled with two million euros’ worth of equipment and it isn’t just for decoration. We’re monitoring body temperature, perspiration, eye movements, facial muscle tension, changes in breath volume, and really just any kind of reaction people make when they lie. That said, an expert can fool all of that, so we like to fine-tune the equipment as much as possible before getting to the questions that truly matter.”

As the boring(?) questioning continued, Quenser finally heard a topic he cared about.

“I would like to ask about the Trinity Style.”

“Are you going to inject me with something if I don’t talk? Oh, but I hear using the mucous membrane of the nose is the latest trend. It leaves less of a mark after all.”

“The Object in question uses three Pilot Elites at once. I have a report saying you yourself admitted to that, so will holding your tongue do you any good here?”

“Curse him and his loose lips…”

Even through the one-way mirror, her low voice made Quenser’s heart skip a beat. It was impossible, but he still felt like she was looking right at him.

Meanwhile, the Class Re-…no, the second lieutenant in glasses continued speaking.

“This concerns your own safety in addition to our technological investigation and understanding of our enemy’s capabilities. How valuable you are to the Faith Organization will tell us how likely they are to target you while you are restrained here. If we do not understand that, we cannot continue to the next stage. That remains true whether you wish to return to the Faith Organization or to defect to the Legitimacy Kingdom.”

“…”

Skuld fell silent for a while, but she finally rattled the handcuffs holding her arms to the table. She clasped her fingers together and slowly provided the desired information.

“Our Norn always uses three pilots. The Elites are Skuld – that’s me – as well as Verdandi and Urd. You know where those names come from, don’t you?”

“Three goddesses from Norse mythology. They were the goddesses of fate or of time.”

“Not only do we work together, but we really are blood-related sisters. And that’s why I doubt they’ll show any mercy.”

“Meaning?”

“Did you think we got along just because we’re sisters? Once the disappointment starts to spread, the familial hatred will settle in. Their heads will boil with anger as they go on about me being a blot on the family name.”

“You mean they will not consider you expendable and leave you here because they have multiple Pilot Elites?”

“They’ll come after me for revenge. I 100% guarantee it.”

Skuld gave an exasperated shake of the head.

“As you know, the Norn’s design and specs can change. That changes who the Object’s main pilot is. …That previous one was Urd’s, but if Verdandi takes over, the Object’s traits will change entirely. What you did last time won’t work again.”

Frolaytia spoke without using the microphone.

“That also means Verdandi is the only card still up their sleeve. We don’t know what Skuld’s mode is, but they can’t use it with her here. Maybe it would be safer to make an attack and reveal that card.”

“No, not necessarily,” reflexively replied Quenser. “We can’t completely trust what Skuld says. That might have been Skuld’s mode last time, leaving them both Urd and Verdandi’s modes in reserve. It’s also possible all three sisters can use all three modes and they’re just better with their own than the others. If so, that’s three Objects times three people for nine patterns overall. With one person out of the equation, they still have six battle patterns left.”

“Perhaps. On top of that, we have no guarantee each sister only has the one mode. If each one has three or four, the combination of cards grows indefinitely.”

“My sisters will kill me,” said Skuld in the interrogation room.

The scratchy, resigned voice sounded out-of-place coming from such a young girl.

“They will come to kill me no matter what. Fate is absolute to the Norn, so they honestly believe that throwing off our plans for victory is a violation of our proper behavior. That is why they will kill me.”

“We have heard that the Faith Organization has developed a unique process for converting belief into a fighting spirit. Is that what this is?”

“Have you heard the term ‘berserker’?”

“Doesn’t that primarily refer to a method of numbing foot soldiers’ fear before making a charge?”

“It’s based in mass hysteria. Just like a rock star’s enthusiasm spreads to the audience during a concert. We act as an amplifier to boost the berserker effect. The greater our enthusiasm, the greater the frenzy among the berserkers. That atmosphere is then sent back to us, creating an even greater explosion of emotion. Then the process repeats.”

“In that case…”

“Our base zone is probably filled with war cries right about now. They’ll be yelling for the traitor’s head. What my sisters hate most of all is letting the heat die down. They will be keeping the engine running no matter what it takes.”

“…”

It was not a pleasant conversation.

Quenser decided to ask Frolaytia a question.

“What’s going to happen to Skuld now?”

“That depends on what she wants and what the higher ups are willing to allow. It’s possible she will defect to our side or she might be thrown back to the Faith Organization. She also might be treated as a hostage and used in a prisoner exchange to settle some troublesome diplomatic issue or another.”

What she was saying sounded simple, but there was no emotion in Frolaytia’s voice.

She then changed the subject.

“Anyway, that’s about as much as we can ask about her personally. Quenser, if you have any questions about the Trinity Style, tell Elfily through her intercom. If she’s in a good mood, she’ll ask about it.”

“U-um, then…”

Quenser thought for a moment before doing so.

“Miss Elfily, if you have the chance, can you ask about something? The Trinity Style is composed of a bunch of small robots, so why are they fixated on making a giant Object? If they have spare robots, they should be able to make a second identical one. If it’s about the reactor, they could always put in a prototype one. Just thin out the armor a little and they might have been able to use two at once.”

Beyond the mirror, the glasses woman casually changed the flow of conversation.

“Miss Skuld, I have a question somewhat concerning your relationship with your sisters. The Trinity Style is composed of small robots…”

“Oh? I thought she might still be mad about what you said at the beginning, but it looks like she actually likes you, Quenser. Maybe that Class Rep has a thing for baby faces.”

“Frolaytia, the intercom is still on.”

Frolaytia started coughing, but it was too late. It was becoming unclear whether they were watching Skuld’s interrogation or enjoying how embarrassed the busty glasses Class Rep had grown.

Regardless, Skuld answered the question presented to her.

“The Object only has meaning by being an Object.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You don’t get it? It’s true we could make all sorts of things with the Dvergr. We could make a great number of them if they were on the level of tanks or armored trucks, but that would be meaningless. No one would fear that. The battle begins before a weapon is used. Only a second-rate weapon does not strike fear in the heart of the enemy before it is ever used. That is why we have no interest in anything but the most powerful Object. If we lowered the specs to split it into two or three, the enemy would just pick them off one by one.”

That was indeed one aspect of the clean wars touted by the world powers.

It was not enough to say you could never know until you tried.

When facing normal weapons like tanks or fighters, it was best to make sure the enemy never even thought about trying to use them against you. When facing another Object, you had to make sure the enemy knew their specs were hopelessly inferior before the battle began. That prevented wars from dragging on, that kept them clean, and that preserved world peace.

That was the modern trend.

And that was exactly why Skuld had reached her conclusion.

“My sisters will kill me.”

She had returned to her initial claim.

The danger she sensed was finally coming into view.

“The Norn must be the most powerful. All else must be sacrificed if it means maintaining its special position at the top. The Elite being captured alive will mar the ‘legend’. That is why Urd and Verdandi will do whatever it takes to resurrect that legend. The first thing they need to do is make a bloodbath out of the one who harmed the Norn’s status as the strongest.”