Глава 9

And what's so bad about that? You're a member of Victoria's army too. Course you've got the power to change the situation, if it doesn't sit right with you!

Do... do I really?

Oh, thank you... you're the first person who's ever told me that. Yeah, next time, I'll give it a go...

Oh, yeah, is there anything else I can help you with? Apart from picking these leaves off you... after all, I don't want to see this conflict boil over either.

Let me think... d'you have any local friends you ken? I want to ask whereabouts Damian Barry usually went.

Friends I've got... Saoirse might know something.

Give me a way to keep in touch, and I'll visit the newspaper in a moment. Don't think the Sergeant Major would mind if I'm missing today...

Skamandros.

Colonel.

I once saw your father—over twenty years ago, at a ball the Duke of Caster was holding. Of course, I was still a bottom-rung guard then, so all I had was a glimpse from afar at the White Wolf Count of legend.

Not long after, I heard a deformed feathered reptile struck illness into him at a Londinium beastlife garden, and he quickly took leave from the aristocratic circles.

Ever since, he hasn't taken a step beyond his manor at Portsmouth City.

Is your father still in fine spirits?

Thank you for your concern, and I hope reminiscing over these years-old affairs hasn't eaten up too much of your precious time. After all, meeting with you doesn't prove easy.

You don't resemble your father.

As is clear, my father did not have the opportunity to serve for the Empire's Army like you or I do.

Considering the theft of these military Originium goods couldn't possibly relate to him, maybe we don't have a need for probing further into his later life.

One's background decides what kind of person one becomes. Would you agree with that, Skamandros?

I believe one has the right to choose one's own future.

Listen to that. How befitting an answer of your status.

The progeny of the Aslans' aide, first-class honors from the Royal Guard Academy, a Londinium army upstart—of course you believe you can change anything and everything.

I have no intent to make any such changes, Colonel. You don't need to worry about our squad potentially impacting your command over County Hillock...

For a joke, I don't find that humorous at all. You can't be so arrogant as to think I'd occupy myself with a paltry little lieutenant?

I've met people like you plenty. Always all braggadocio, skin-deep, and superficial. I deigned to meet you because I wanted to tell you this—

Don't interfere in things beyond your ken.

I'm sorry, I cannot agree to that.

The orders we received were to ascertain the lost Originium products' whereabouts.

If you just stay still and wait where you ought to, then before long, you may accomplish your duty and return to Londinium with all the ostentation you'd like.

I don't need that ostentation of yours, and Victoria needs it even less.

I'm not in the routine of reporting back with a hurriedly lopped-off head, sans trial.

Hahah! You're telling me I've a disregard for human life—and you believe those people are truly innocent? How ridiculous!

Just ten days ago, three of our soldiers were murdered in cold blood. James Cohen, Robert Boris, and Jeremy Brown.

When Cohen's wife wrote to tell him she was with a second child, she had no idea that her husband had had a hole gruesomely blown in his head.

Boris could've left this place once midsummer passed. He mentioned he'd go back to continue his family's clothiers after his retirement.

And Brown, he was a bright young student just a year ago, and not even twenty when he died!

I give my profound regrets for their sacrifice.

Regrets! Hah, what weightless rhetoric, just like every word that wafts out of your mouth.

This is exactly why all of us want to catch hold of the assassinators. Colonel, on this matter, we have held unanimous positions throughout.

No one else but that Tara rabble killed them. We've uncovered two already, but I know there are still more tucked in the background.

Fifteen days ago, our barracks suffered an explosive attack at three simultaneous places. An according fifteen soldiers lost their lives. The craters and the spilled blood of our own still lie where they were.

Twenty-one days ago, our resupply transport group were ambushed outside the distribution sector in the outskirts north, and the whole detachment together with their goods disappeared without a trace. Do you feel there is any possibility they would still be alive?

This is only the last month's events, to boot. You know nothing at all of the losses we've long since endured.

These incidents you mention all sound very in line with the spectre force's MO.

In the past half a year, Londinium has continually received reports from more than ten different counties, logging up to hundreds of homicide, looting and property damage cases.

After every offence, they swiftly conceal their tracks, and all connected personnel who've seen them are caught in assassinations before they can contact us.

We've been able to obtain exceedingly little information so far.

That is why the lead before us is so crucial.

We still don't know the spectre force's goal in haunting County Hillock, but I believe that they are our mutual enemy.

Colonel, if we and the barracks can cooperate, and uncover the spectre force here, it'll be of great benefit to County Hillock and Victoria as a whole.

Hmph. You still understand nothing at all. You treat the atrocities before you as just another case to win you a medal.

But you're wrong, soldier. This is not some case, and no such true culprit exists. This is a war, and it is between us and them, a war ongoing for decades, even for centuries.

You call them a spectre force, but do you know what that name signifies?

Who is the enemy we've been confronting all this time? Well?

It's a ghost! It's a phantom drifting over this city, an apparition that echoes in the heads of Taran morons, it is a life-in-spirit ghost!

And that spectre speaks a different language to us, willfully distorts the history molded by our ancestors' hands, has delusions that by the body of our city it will one day return to life!

Are you saying that a great amount of the local populace are supporters of the spectre force?

Great amount? Supporters? No, you're mistaken. They are one single whole.

Have you ever read this anthology of poetry?

Seamus Williams. His poems have some fame in Londinium too.

This is their very compilation of bare-faced lies about Victoria. In their depictions, they have their own language; they are this land's natural owners.

Still, Victoria can tolerate the mindsets of authors who come from differing cultural backgrounds.

No one would assume a dreamer's fantasy as their truth. Not unless that dream mentioned taking up a hatchet. Not unless it was about wanting to cut our heads off.

I still keep this book of an idiot's sleeptalk so that the bloodstains upon it always remind me—

If one lives on Victoria's land, yet refuses to give one's own name in Victorian, then one is no longer a Victorian, but an enemy and a menace to this country's safety!

You... you executed the holder of this anthology? Simply because they...

Reporting in!

Speak.

Command has lost contact with 9th Defence and 13th Defence after they were attacked.

5th, 7th and 10th Defence each sent vanguards ASAP to the scene, and did not find traces of the enemy.

What of our own?

They... gave their lives.

Did you hear that, Skamandros?

Right as you were seeing fit to tell me sympathetic rubbish to the enemy, we once again saw outstanding soldiers die at their hands!

If that's gotten through your head, then kindly eject yourself from my office. I still have genuine work awaiting me.

Fine. Very fine. I have my own work to do too.

4:23 P.M. \ Cloudy, turning overcast

MacMartin Brothers' Chip, first floor

Still no reply?

None. Haven't gotten a peep from Londinium, yesterday or today.

It's been twenty hours. They have to have received my last telecoms by now.

Could the encrypted line be faulty?

Hard to say, sir. Being honest, it's been nearly ten years since I graduated, transferred to Hillock. There's not much information you need to activate this secret comms line.

Two years back, around the end, I reported to our group's boss, and he asked me if I had anything to say other than whatever number kid was being born. And that if I hadn't, I could save even giving the routine reports.

Oh, no wonder you opened this chippy.

Not a bad plan, right? Codename's not Chef for fun. Thought at the time, suppose some outsider wanted to sniff out our liaison point, they'd only suspect next door's bookshop.

Aye, right. Besides, your chips are delicious too!

Ought to be, eh? Hahah, you fill yourselves up.

Hillock's potatoes are high quality. Locals all love my chips—if I didn't still remember my actual job as a lamplighter, I would've opened up branches ages ago. Five, six of them.

Ah, anyhow, I thought I was dreaming of the time I was in training again, when you gave the secret knock at the door yesterday.

...It seems highly likely this line was abandoned long ago.

Or perhaps, someone's received our info, but doesn't want to reply.

You mean there's people interceptin' our intel on purpose, Leader?

Not easy to say yet.

We'll send the next report as we would originally—right, and besides Triangle's findings, add on the outcome of my dialogue with Colonel Hamilton.

The Colonel's targeted measures against a portion of the residents are already extremely suspicious. In the worst case, I'd like for our team to be allowed more flexibility.

That... sounds like there's no point in me convincing you to use a barracks Messenger, is there?

Ugh. Leader, I don't wanna say this, but we're a little low on numbers.

That definitely isn't like you to say. Relax, though. Nobody wants to take that step.

But... the circumstances about this city are far more complicated than any of us foresaw.

Chef, seeing as you've been in County Hillock for so long, how do you feel about the people here?