Chapter 123: Vessel

With the meeting over, C.J. left the garage.

I watched her go, then dragged a pipe chair over to the corner by the shutter and sat with my back to the wall. I beckoned Rat Unit over. It turned its back into a monitor, and I had it overlay the base locations Rabbit Unit had compiled, the place where we had been attacked today, and the data I had received from C.J.

It would still take time for the truck to arrive, and longer still to analyze it. As a mercenary, the correct thing to do might have been to rest until then, but I figured I could at least make a rough guess.

I drew circles at equal distances from each attack point and checked whether any bases lay where the circles overlapped.

…Ah. This one looked promising.

It was reasonably close to both Tooth territory and human territory, and well-positioned relative to several attack sites.

Too bad.

It was the research facility where Xena had been sleeping.

Taking out the dedicated pen felt like too much effort, so I touched Rat Unit’s panel with my finger and marked it with an X. Rat Unit, now blessed with my fingerprint, seemed to have complaints.

“Surprisingly diligent, aren’t you, stupid dog.”

An unfamiliar man’s voice came from behind me, from the other side of the wall.

Since that was a name reserved specifically for him, I knew who it was. More or less.

“Not really, mister.”

If I called him Father-in-law, he would probably get angry, so I chose something harmless.

Even as I kept my mouth moving, I continued narrowing things down. This time, I tried drawing equal-distance circles from the bases as well.

“Think you’ll find it?”

“I have a few candidates.”

“I see. By the way, Tooth society is built on blood ties.”

“Is that so.”

Sounds painful for someone like me, who is bad with relatives. I should take that into consideration if I ever get married.

“To maintain those ties, we send spouses and adoptees far and wide. That is why this kidnapping affair has become such a major issue.”

“Ah, I see. You must have relatives everywhere.”

They probably kept track of people most humans would dismiss as strangers, like my father’s older brother’s wife’s cousin.

“That too. But can you listen to unpleasant things?”

“Relatively.”

“What was stolen were children, tools for continuing bloodlines. That is why this became serious.”

“I see.”

“That’s all? Humans like things such as love, do they not?”

“A tool is happy if it is used with care.”

One opinion from a mercenary on the tool side of things.

“Well, yes. I suppose so. In any case, because of that, our side does not need to worry about what happens after they are rescued.”

“…”

“What about your side?”

“Most of them probably have no parents.”

Unlike the Tooth side, which kept firm track of its children, the human side, as it existed now, had places no one was managing.

Apparently, a thing called a nation had done more important work than people gave it credit for. When an organization called a corporation—something that was supposed to prioritize profit—ended up standing at the top, welfare inevitably developed soft spots.

Sleeper children were already a full-fledged social problem, but to the people of this era, it still felt somehow like someone else’s problem. Every so often, a human rights group would get worked up and make a lot of noise, but to put it badly, it was only an extension of their hobby.

I was the same.

I would say this while admitting that much.

Winners do not understand how losers feel.

So somewhere inside, a part of you inevitably ends up watching it as someone else’s problem.

“Well, I’ll look after them here. Somehow.”

Even so, sadly enough, the ones capable of reaching out a hand were the winners.

So I might as well reach down from above as best I could.

“Soft, or kind, or whatever you want to call it…”

『If you aren’t tough, you can’t survive. If you aren’t kind, you don’t deserve to survive.』

By Philip Marlowe.

『Therefore, the strong ought to be kind.』

Translation: Master.

“You should keep your boil level on the hard side, mister.”

It looked better that way.

“I’m starting to like you a little, dog.”

“Why, thank you.”

In that case, may I call you Father-in-law?

I rolled the words around on my tongue without letting them out.

“But how is it, really? Does this place have that much room to spare?”

“The reality is that we have neither room to spare nor any solution.”

Unfortunately.

“What are you planning to do?”

“…Something will work out.”

“You’ve put me at ease, stupid dog. Rejoice. My opinion of you has gone down.”

I could hear irritation mixed into the voice behind me.

“Well, well.”

A terrible shame.

I shrugged and changed the scale of the map, taking a wider look at how the promising candidate sites were scattered. I could not find any particular connection.

This was as far as I could go. The rest would have to wait for Akito’s results so we could narrow it down.

I closed Rat Unit’s monitor and let it go.

“In the end, you are only a soldier. You are nowhere near the vessel of a king. No, not even the vessel of a general.”

“Someone else told me that too…”

He certainly liked stating the obvious.

“Look ahead, stupid dog.”

“I look ahead plenty. In combat and everything.”

A grand sigh came from behind me.

“I have three wives and seven children.”

“…Right. And that has what to do with anything?”

“Listen. I lead a reasonably large Tooth pack. That one—E.B.—is the child I dote on most out of the seven. Someday, I had thought I might entrust the pack to her, or to her mate, but you are no vessel for that, stupid dog.”

“Then perhaps you should pin your hopes on E.B., or on the child.”

“Is stepping aside not an option for you?”

“She is a good woman. Too good for me.”

So—

“Sorry, but I have no intention of stepping aside.”

“Is that so. Then do your best to show me the depth of a soldier’s vessel.”

“When I do, I’ll be taking your daughter, Father-in-law.”

“Depending on that depth, I’ll throw in one of her half-sisters as a set.”

“I don’t need that.”

That was where our conversation ended, back to back with a wall between us.

The fact that he gave no answer to my last words made me a little uneasy.