mantra

Remember: All we do is to preserve the honor and purity of Ursus. Even if we are not on the battlefield, we are always at war.

To ponder, to judge, to question. That is the road to desertion.

You shall listen, observe, and record accurate notes. That is all.

Logic dictates that I should like my job, or at least be proud of it, but I don't feel anything about it either way.

The man who was on this same detail before me was called in for questioning after he accidentally sighed into a hot mic. I don't know where he is now, and I don't much care.

Still, I have to thank him. His failure showed me what not to do each time I walk into this room.

I'm in position.

Roger that.

What has the target being doing today?

Same as before. She hasn't left her apartment.

At 03:10 AM, Visitor 05 delivered food, water, and a med kit, and departed empty-handed twenty-seven minutes later.

There were no other visitors today.

Okay.

I pick up the notebook on my desk and scribble a note in my log: 'No abnormalities detected.'

Hello?

Is something wrong?

Just who are we surveilling, anyway? Do you know?

It's common for agents assigned to surveillance duty to not know the target's identity. The point is to keep them from seeing their target as an actual person.

I, of course, do not break from that practice.

To be honest, after observing her these past few days, I don't think she's worth surveilling. When she removed her headscarf, she looked about as old as my grandmother.

She hasn't even left her apartment. She's like any other old lady who has trouble getting around. She even needs someone to help her do her shopping. How could she possibly be capable of sheltering the Infected?

She hasn't even said a single word! Sometimes she uses sign language, but it's only to communicate with patients. What possible harm could she being doing to society?

As far as I know, we're not here to make judgments.

If there aren't any abnormalities here, I'm going to sign off. Third Bureau—Intelligence Collection Office, Room 301. End of transmission.

Hey—

After turning off the speaker, I flip back through my notebook to the page on Visitor 05.

Visitor 05 is a Sargonian who hails from the same town as the target and is, in fact, her most loyal patient, occasionally serving as her assistant.

Visitor 05 has been one of the target's most frequent non-infected visitors while she's been in Ursus.

After putting on a pair of headphones (each ear plugged into different devices), I call up the audio file from 3:00 AM to 4:00 AM and start reviewing today's work.

...3:11 AM, Visitor 05 enters the apartment.

Madam.

(Nods)

The target says nothing. I hear a sound of rustling hair.

How are you feeling today?

(Shakes head)

Hair-friction sounds at varying frequencies.

Ah. I keep forgetting that I'm the one who's sick. Well, at least I don't have Oripathy...

Plus, I already feel much better, thanks to you.

Oh, and here's three days' worth of supplies. And that herbal pillow you talked about last time? I got someone to collect the herbs and make it.

I know that people are going to start visiting you at 7:00 AM. Do you want me to stick around and help?

(Shakes head)

(Sign language)

Rustling garments. The sound of moving limbs. From context, I can deduce that the target has signed: 'No thank you. I don't need help.'

Polite as ever. Well, I'll just sit here for a while then. Will you join me?

Ten minutes. I'll sit here for just ten minutes.

(Nods)

Breathing sounds. Boiling water. Sound of someone pouring tea.

Footsteps, a door opening and closing.

Visitor 05 remains at target's apartment until 3:37 AM.

The time is now...

6:55 AM.

Only ambient background noise is detected in target's room; there are no indications of activity.

There are knocks at the door. Two heavy, one light.

The target says nothing. The door opens. Various footsteps, both heavy and light.

It sounds like the visitor is limping.

*sigh*...

This visitor always begins with a sigh, arrives earlier than expected, and has a leg injury. This one has already been recorded in the log as Visitor 74.

This aching leg. Every time I leave you, it gets worse again.

If I press my on leg through the cloth the way you showed me, it gets a little better for a while. But as soon as I have to go out and work, it gets worse.

Think of another solution, will you?

(Shakes head)

Please! I'm begging you!

(Sign language)

The sound of moving limbs. Based on the visitor's subsequent reply, I can assume the target has signed, 'Let me take a look.'

It's here, the same old spot. The swelling is getting worse...

Is there... no way to treat my leg?

(Shakes head)

(Sign language)

It's hard to guess what the target is saying here.

Hot! Hot!

I only put it on after my hands were red and burning—

(Sign language)

The sound of vigorous movement. Subsequent context lets us presume this is the sound of someone correcting the way the treatment is applied.

Ah... Ahhh...

Oh, so I need a cold compress? But it's summer. Where am I gonna find ice?

Rustling garments. The sound of something being removed from a plastic container. Rustling garments.

What's this?

(Sign language)

We can presume she signed, 'This is for you.'

What is it? Medicine?

You have pain medicine?

But I... I can't afford it...

(Shakes head)

Th-Thank you! Thank you!

Thank you so much!

Rustling garments. Various footsteps, both heavy and light. Many quiet, garbled 'Thank you's.

The door opens and closes.

Visitor 74 leaves target's apartment at 7:11 AM.

Visitor 74, Visitor 12, Visitor 45, Visitor 07...

Her patients stick around, and she sees them at pretty regular intervals. New patients are rare. They usually show up because someone introduces her to them.

Hmm?

The door opens. Hurried footsteps. The new visitor is wearing hard-heeled leather shoes.

The footsteps stop. No one says a word.

Rustling garments. It sounds like two people are moving, but no one says a word.

The silence continues for twenty-seven minutes. The only sounds that can be heard are the sounds of limbs moving and rustling garments.

We can deduce that they are using sign language to communicate, though we do not know why.

The sound of plastic bag opening. Footsteps of leather shoes. A door opening and closing.

The person we suspect to be a new visitor leaves the target's apartment at 1:06 PM.

Based on past logs, the target takes her daily break at 1:00 PM.

Non-infected... non-infected... they're all non-infected.