Chapter 36: Paradise

They say there’s a sleeper’s paradise somewhere.

I heard it once, just a rumor on the wind.

If such a place truly existed, I’d like to go there myself. More than that, I’d want to bring the kids. That’s what I said while on standby at the Doggy House, and Shinzo gave me a strange look.

“That’s what we call our crash site.”

“…I was under the impression it was just a camp.”

“Well, yeah. But when you’re backed into a corner, when the little ones and powerless sleepers are that desperate, even a plain old camp starts to look like paradise.”

“I see.”

That was the end of it, for the moment.

Even if it was just a regular camp and not some paradise, keeping it running still cost money.

Since the so-called sleeper’s paradise didn’t actually exist, it fell to me to maintain the camp. A few of the older kids had found jobs, but the majority still hadn’t.

Like it or not, I was the main breadwinner. Which meant I had to keep working hard.

I forgot about the idea of paradise almost immediately.

To me, that was all it ever amounted to—just a passing thought.

But outside… others saw it very differently.

I found out about it two days after that idle chat with Shinzo.

I’d grown fond of the mission cycle from my Double-C days, so unless something major came up, I followed a three-day-on, one-day-off work rhythm. That day happened to be one of my rest days.

With nothing in particular to do, I brought along Snake Unit and Rabbit Unit, as well as Rudo, who had insisted on going for a walk, and spent the day working with the kids who wanted to become snipers.

Maybe it was because both Shinzo and I were around, but among the children in this camp, snipers and cavalry were surprisingly popular choices. About thirty of them had gathered again today.

Not that I was actually training them, I wasn’t qualified for that. All I could really do was demonstrate.

As part of the rehabilitation for the four large units—Ox Unit, Tiger Unit, Horse Unit, and Boar Unit—I built a four-wheeled armored vehicle. The ruined city still had leftover materials, so this time, I was able to construct it properly.

I loaded the kids into it and climbed up onto the roof myself.

And with that, we set off.

Whether it was an adaptation to this desolate land or the result of some form of genetic manipulation, I couldn’t say—but the deer-like creatures we occasionally spotted were perfect for training purposes. So I set course for one of the hunting grounds where those creatures tended to gather.

It was on the way there that it happened.

—Beep!

Report: Multiple biological signatures detected southwest. Trajectory → toward camp.

Rabbit Unit came rolling up. That message was displayed on its terminal. I opened the map on my own device and linked it with Rabbit Unit. The indicator lights were moving slowly. Walking pace. Human foot traffic.

“…”

We could escape if it came to that. That was my assessment.

From here, it’d be faster to head straight for them and see what was going on than to return to camp first.

“Snake Unit, sorry, but I need you to head back to camp and relay this intel to Eevee and Shinzo. My tactical recommendation is to mount a defensive stand at the camp. No need to send reinforcements this way. Focus on building barricades and prepping for evacuation.

“Rabbit Unit, you’re with me, Team S1. You’re on recon. Keep tracking their movements.

“Ox Unit, Tiger Unit, Horse Unit, and Boar Unit, you’ll form Team A1. I know it’s rough, asking this right after your reactivation, but if things go south, today’s rehab is going to turn into something much tougher.

“Rudo, you’re A2. You’ll be the only assault unit up front at the start. I’m pushing you hard, but don’t overextend.

“…And all of you, stay in the vehicle, no matter what. If a fight breaks out, keep your heads down and grab onto something. If we need to retreat, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

The Monoz units responded with their signature electronic chirps, Rudo let out a single bark, and the kids gave a bright, unified “Yes, sir!”

I hit the accelerator and drove the armored vehicle forward.

I parked ahead of their projected path, cutting them off. The distance between us was roughly six hundred meters. That should do.

I linked Rudo’s Dog Armor to the headset for the Hound model.

“Check, check.”

『Check, check.』

My voice came through Rudo’s collar. Mic check—nice and clear.

“A2, move to your designated point. A1, stay ready but hold position with the vehicle prepped to move.”

—Beep beep beep beep!

Tactical Proposal: Recommend purging from the armored vehicle.

That came from Ox Unit.

“Denied. Priority is on retreat.”

—Beep!!

Reconsideration Request: Reattaching to tires takes only three seconds.

This time, it was from Boar Unit. I see. Three seconds, huh.

“…Alright. But we’re adjusting slightly. Fall back fifty meters, then purge. After that, A1, switch to alert status. A2, you caught that, right? Even though we’re shifting back fifty meters, your position stays the same.”

—Woof!

A lively bark came back in response.

The point I’d assigned Rudo to was originally three hundred meters out from the vehicle. With the retreat, that increased to three hundred fifty. Still within acceptable range.

Through my binoculars, I spotted the targets. As expected—humans. Or rather, humanoid figures. Likely to shield themselves from the dust storms of the wasteland, every one of them wore a cloak.

Even out in the wilderness, paths form. Trails carved out by the passage of humans, Insectum, or Tooth. And right in the middle of one of those trails, Rudo sat calmly on his haunches.

The figures stiffened at the sight.

In this age, a stray dog isn’t just some minor nuisance. Thanks to human-engineered genetics, they’re serious threats. It’s ironic, really. Even mercenaries can die if caught by a pack.

No wonder they were on edge.

“…”

Still, something about their reaction felt like overkill.

Sure, Rudo had grown a bit, but he was still just a pup. For them to be this tense over a single puppy, could it be that they were simply looking for a place to sleep for the night and heading toward the ruins for that reason?

『Stop.』

Even if they tried to go around, it would just cause more trouble. I decided to speak up, a little ahead of schedule.

Rudo perked up—like he was thinking, Is it showtime?—and got to his feet. He trotted forward toward the group.

In response, someone stepped out from their side. A representative, it seemed. I kept my reticle centered on them and raised my voice again.

『There’s nothing beyond this point but a ruined city. Are you sure you’re not headed the wrong way?』

“No, we’re not mistaken. That’s exactly where we’re going.”

It was a girl’s voice. As she spoke, she pulled back the hood of her cloak.

I blinked, caught off guard. She looked to be around Souta’s age.

“Our destination is Paradise,” she said.

***

The layout of the camp was simple.

For shelter, we used the houses left behind in the ruined city.

Still, with no functioning utilities, we had to rely on gathering firewood to make fires or have the Monoz produce the necessary heat. For water, we either fetched it ourselves or had the Monoz extract moisture from the air.

The larger Monoz units served as makeshift generators, but they didn’t produce enough power. Nights were dark, and a proper hot bath only came once a week. The rest of the time, we wiped ourselves down with damp towels or bathed at the water source when we went out to fetch more.

As for toilets, we dug holes. Once one filled up, we’d cover it and dig a new one. We made sure to keep them a fair distance from the living area, and scattered chemicals to suppress odors and sterilize the site. Even so, there was that one time we accidentally built one upwind of the camp. It was a disaster.

That was our setup. Not exactly what you’d call comfortable. Certainly nothing close to a paradise.

For people like Shinzo and me—Sleepers thawed out for their original purpose, labor—it would’ve been far easier to just stay on the job we were assigned to right out of the pod.

But things were different for the children—the so-called “duds”—who’d been thawed out with nothing more expected of them than the slim hope they might turn out to be “hits.”

If their bodies were still underdeveloped, they couldn’t serve as combat assets. Even if physically mature, retained memories could prove problematic, especially if those memories were from a peaceful era far removed from the present. The values and norms they carried from such a time often clashed with the brutal necessities of life now, making them ill-suited for soldiering.

And the ones meant to protect and educate them—their guardians—were, in most cases, already long dead.

Well, even so, it was still humans who thawed them out. Most wouldn’t go so far as to overtly abuse them. Even Double-C made a nominal effort to educate the Sleeper children who showed no promise. But as you know, when it came to weighing that effort against profitability, they were quick to abandon them. …And that was still considered one of the more humane responses.

But humans are humans. For every decent one, there’s someone like Primula-san. Even with laws in place banning “irresponsible thawing and disposal,” there are always those who ignore them.

If they couldn’t be thrown away, they’d be sent into war zones to die quickly.

If they couldn’t be discarded, they’d be treated like slaves.

The girls who arrived at our camp, wandering in from the wasteland, were those very children.

“Mr. Howard.”

“How many?”

“Fifteen.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then I’ll say, please.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“Then it’s not a request. It’s an order.”

Mr. Howard let out a long, heavy sigh.

One of the few adults in the camp—and a non-Sleeper at that—he was slumped over a desk stacked with paperwork, groaning in frustration. A cup of black coffee sat nearby, which meant he was probably pulling another all-nighter. I felt genuinely bad about it, but neither Shinzo nor I, being Sleepers, could handle negotiations with the administrative authorities. That burden fell squarely on him.

“…We received replies from the three cities we sent the development proposal to. Northglass and Uraba have both given approval. Uraba’s even offering subsidies. That’s thanks to your reputation as a Hound. It’s their way of currying favor with Doggy House, or more precisely, a message that says, ‘Let’s build a good relationship.’ Factoring that in, even if we take in fifteen more… it’s a problem, but not an impossible one.”

“I see. So it’s a case of ‘there is, and yet there isn’t.’”

A near-miss. A technicality. A not-quite-yes, not-quite-no.

…Yeah. Definitely not a win.

“So then, what’s the issue?”

“The city they fled from, Amaz. They’ve replied with a rejection. They’ve always been especially harsh toward Sleepers. I can only imagine what those girls must’ve gone through.”

“Does that mean the camp has to be disbanded?”

“No. This whole thing is more of a declaration than anything else, so continuing as we are isn’t a problem. It’s more about preventing something like, ‘We mistook them for bandits and sent troops. Oops, we wiped them out, our bad.’”

“So you’re saying Amaz might pull the ‘Oops, we thought they were bandits’ routine and send an army?”

“The likelihood of that dropped the moment the two neighboring cities gave us the green light.”

“Then there’s no real problem, is there?”

“Abandoning Sleepers is illegal. But those girls didn’t come here to repay their debts. They ran.”

“…Which means they have owners. And this is a perfect excuse to bite back.”

“That’s how it is,” Mr. Howard said, downing his coffee like it was a shot of liquor. “Hound, can you kill if it comes to it?”

“Shinzo’s not fond of the idea, but Eevee and I don’t have much of a problem with it.”

“Right. Threats and intimidation have always been your specialty.”

He chuckled—a low, dry laugh.

I neither confirmed nor denied it. I just gave a vague shrug.