WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 177: Alliances and Maneuvering (12)
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“Welcome aboard, Comrade Tan Guosheng. And Comrade Kurt Lee.”
The person who greeted the two of them when they arrived aboard the Sirius was the ship’s captain, a naval Senior Captain. The captain’s name was Wan Yi, one of the officers who had observed yesterday’s test. The goodwill shown to them was restrained. Thin, opaque, and hard to judge as sincere or false.
Senior Captain Wan Yi led the way toward the bridge. Gyeoul took in as much of his surroundings as he could from the corner of his eye. To think he had ended up boarding this ship.
“Please excuse the clutter in the Operations Information Center, the Combat Information Center. The Sirius is under an excessive burden right now. Far too many missions unrelated to her original role keep being pushed onto us.”
The Senior Captain clicked his tongue as he said this, apparently displeased with the situation the ship had been placed in.
Gyeoul could understand the feeling. The room was packed with temporary installations that had not been part of the original equipment. No thought had been given to traffic flow, and some operators were practically wedged between devices.
The laptop one crew member had connected to a console looked quite unfamiliar to Gyeoul. Its operating system was different from an ordinary PC’s. According to Agent Kowalski, the Central Intelligence Agency communications security officer, it had been developed to reduce the chance of hacking. Her explanation had sounded almost like playful bragging.
“Is the Lieutenant General not coming?”
When Gyeoul asked, Tan Guosheng nodded.
“Mother is at a separate command post. If the bridges go down, the landing operation is scheduled to begin at once. Before dark, we need to secure at least the runway. That will give her more to say to the other generals tomorrow. Right now, Mother is probably watching the same screen we are.”
There was no tension in his voice. Did that mean she would not be in danger?
The screen the Lieutenant Colonel spoke of stood at the center of the busy information room. It was a large display that must once have been carried on some cargo ship. It showed part of the fleet from a high-altitude bird’s-eye view. As the footage zoomed in, something shaped like an airplane came into view. Overall, it looked crude and rough.
“They are suicide drones.”
Tan Guosheng’s words carried both anticipation and regret.
“A few months ago, we reached the stage of manned test flights, but we did not have the navigation equipment needed to make them unmanned, so we could not complete them until now. And dismantling military aircraft or daodan for the parts would defeat the entire purpose.”
Daodan was the Chinese term for a guided missile, or simply a missile. The Chinese navy was desperate to preserve its existing equipment. They were already short on bullets, so missiles were another matter entirely. One day, the worst-case scenario might come, and they might have to face the U.S. Navy. That was what he meant by defeating the purpose.
“Incredible. So those really can fly.”
Just as Tan Guosheng was about to answer Gyeoul’s calm remark, Senior Captain Wan Yi cut in without much interest.
“There was no room to test them. We lacked both resources and time. If they fail, Admiral Xieru’s disappointment will be considerable. Soon, everyone will know whether heaven’s luck is with the admiral.”
The Senior Captain’s last words were loaded with meaning. Gyeoul tilted his head. It was probably a hint at the balance of power within the Faction. Face, fate, and patronage are the three goddesses who rule the Chinese. The saying came to mind again. In a worldview where the apocalypse weighed down reason, the line worked even better.
The shortage of time was because the generals’ meeting was right around the corner.
Tan Guosheng opened his mouth, then closed it silently. He looked somewhat displeased, as though he had something to say but was holding it back. Whatever the circumstances, Senior Captain Wan Yi was still his superior. If he argued back the moment their opinions differed, discipline would not hold.
‘But didn’t they say it had a chance of succeeding?’
That was what he had discussed with Oliver Talbot while the man touched up Gyeoul’s special makeup. The dark-skinned tactical intelligence analyst had viewed Lieutenant General Xieru’s attempt positively. What he had actually said was as follows.
“It is not only my opinion. Leaving combat strength aside, the Chinese military has very high-quality human resources. It was a country where a military career was an even stronger condition for success than in America, wasn’t it? The navy already has many technical branches, so it would not be strange if they had soldiers who majored in aerodynamics or officers skilled in flight control technology. Langley puts the success rate at around fifty percent.”
Langley, Virginia was home to Central Intelligence Agency headquarters.
“They looked extremely unstable in the photographs.”
At Gyeoul’s question, Agent Talbot shrugged and laughed.
“They say shape is surprisingly unimportant if all you need is for something to fly. A famous aircraft engineer at Lockheed Martin Corporation said so. With computers making thousands of tiny electrohydraulic adjustments to an airplane’s control surfaces every second to achieve aerodynamic capability, even the Statue of Liberty could perform complex combat flight. Though if you wanted to send a 225-ton goddess into the sky, building the engines would be the first problem.”
Lockheed Martin was an American military contractor specializing in aircraft production. Its technical capabilities were among the best in the world. Even as a joke, a statement from there was not something to dismiss. It implied more than enough possibility.
“Half a century ago, blacksmiths in China built and flew supersonic fighter jets. I think it is worth hoping for.”
Talbot’s hope had carried two meanings. It was not only Talbot’s personal curiosity, but also the Central Intelligence Agency’s expectation. If Lieutenant General Xieru came to lead the meeting, the Intelligence Agency’s work would become easier as well.
They would know the result soon.
While the final pre-launch checks proceeded, Gyeoul turned his gaze elsewhere. There were countless small video feeds. They seemed to be collecting almost every signal. Given the Sirius’s function, that was not surprising.
One of them caught his eye. It was propaganda footage being broadcast by the Russian side. A caption scrolled by, claiming that an estimated seven million mutants had been wiped out in a clearing operation conducted during the thaw. Gyeoul had not acquired 「Russian」 yet, but the captions cycled through several languages, including English and even Korean.
‘Clumsy, though.’
They were probably trying to gather survivors and arm them. Tan Guosheng followed Gyeoul’s gaze and sighed.
“I envy those Russian bastards. They can still fight for their homeland.”
“Do you think that is true?”
“Who knows. They probably inflated the results quite a bit. They will need American support too.”
The red, inflammatory captions emphasized Russian-American solidarity. Just as they had once fought together against the Axis powers, they were now blood allies standing together against the plague.
At the very least, the victory shown in the propaganda footage was real. Troops riding tracked vehicles were one-sidedly slaughtering mutants stuck in the mud and struggling to move. The monsters could never keep up with human mobility. What could they do when every step sank deep?
Twice a year, when the ice froze and thawed, Russian soil turned into a terrible muddy swamp. This was called Rasputitsa.
Russia had chosen places where this phenomenon was especially severe, lured mutants there all winter, and pinned them down. How many sacrifices must that have taken?
‘It’s also an awkward environment for special mutants to appear in.’
Gyeoul judged the thaw to be too short. Too short, that is, for mutants to adapt. Monsters specialized for underwater activity, like the Melville Ray, could appear because rivers and seas were always there. A swamp like this dried out in a month at most.
And even if a monster specialized for mudflats did appear, that would be its own problem. For the rest of the year, it would be worse than an ordinary mutant.
Russia must have made it through last year because of this environment. Mutant hordes flowing in from other regions would have been naturally blocked. This time would be the same. Gyeoul recalled past apocalypses.
“Look, Li. They are taking off.”
Tan Guosheng drew Gyeoul’s attention back.
Loaded with heavy bombs made from nitrogen fertilizer, the drones began taking off one after another. Each aircraft swayed dangerously every time it left the two rows of rails. But their horizontal and vertical control surfaces shifted in tiny increments, restoring balance to the heavy bodies.
The cameras filming them were flying at high altitude. They were probably reconnaissance drones the Chinese had already possessed.
There were twelve suicide aircraft in total. Four assigned to each bridge.
“If even one hits each bridge, that will be enough...”
Tan Guosheng finally showed his nervousness. His fist opened and closed again and again, damp with sweat.
Gyeoul understood. He must have held it in until now, only to reach the point where he could no longer hide it.
He silently watched the screen. The weather was poor. They had not been able to choose the day. In the thin fog, strong winds blew from time to time. Each gust sent the planes off balance.
“Ah!”
Someone let out a cry of dismay. For some reason, one aircraft’s engine stopped. The propeller ceased moving. The aircraft traced a steep downward curve, and then...
Boom! Rumble!
A huge explosion erupted. The bomb had been built to bring down a bridge in a single strike. The air pushed outward in a sphere and blew away an entire block. The sight of a half-destroyed house lifting whole into the air was striking. Amid the flying debris, mutants flailed, torn apart yet still alive. Their yellowed eyes looked up at the sky. Wingless falls. The gestures of their hands just before they dropped looked as if they were trying to grab hold of the wind.
Thud. Thump. Sounds he could almost hear just by looking.
Several more fell after that. Enough that the number heading for each bridge had to be reassigned.
“Please...”
An earnest voice came from beside him. Tan Guosheng’s hands were clasped tight. Who was he praying to?
A time both short and long passed.
“Good! Keep going!”
Tan Guosheng shouted.
The first aircraft to reach the target point began a vertical dive. The fog splitting at its wingtips turned into a faint trail. As if its sluggish speed until now had been a lie, it struck like lightning. A tremendous flash and roar followed. Rumble! The volume overwhelmed the speakers, which spat out distorted sound.
Another bomb fell after it. The billowing smoke flashed, then shook violently.
“The bridge? Did the bridge collapse?”
This time, it was Senior Captain Wan Yi. The captain had lost composure as well.
But the smoke did not clear easily. For a moment, success or failure remained uncertain. In that interval, the other two bridges exploded one after another. Kiiing. The sound of steel frames twisting carried far into the distance.
“Comrade Captain! Collapse of Target One confirmed!”
At one officer’s report, a brief cheer boiled up.
“Targets Two and Three have also been completely destroyed! The operation is a major success!”
His head rang. Gyeoul tried not to frown. The bridge, now a crucible of joy, was far too loud. A hand seized him, and his body shook. Tan Guosheng threw aside all concern for face and hugged Gyeoul.
Was this the moment to look happy? Smiling as Kurt Lee, Gyeoul offered congratulations.
“Congratulations. With this, your mother... Lieutenant General Xieru’s dream has come a little closer to reality.”
“Of course! This is how it should be! This damn life will not last much longer! Hahaha!”
The shout was filled with raw, unfiltered hope. The Tan Guosheng of that moment looked like someone Gyeoul did not know. An unfamiliar face, an unfamiliar voice. If hope could change him this much, how deep in despair had he been all this time?
‘Hope can change people this much.’
The feeling struck him anew. Though he had seen it many times before, there were plenty of moments when it still felt this strange. It was like a familiar word suddenly turning unfamiliar.
Gyeoul thought of the unread messages. The cries sent by viewers from another world. Gyeoul almost never followed their demands. No, even before that, he had long since stopped reading them on time most of the time. It was painful to see people who had no other hope clinging to momentary pleasure.
Just watching them was exhausting.
Those people, too, would change in an instant if they had even one good opportunity. After experiencing so many apocalypses and so many people facing despair, Gyeoul was certain of it.
But the world of the living, physical reality, was harsh enough not to allow even a handful of hope. Was that because everyone had agreed to postpone all the joys of life until after death? It was only the boy’s own thought, but he believed he was not wrong.
‘There’s no point.’
Gyeoul closed his eyes for a moment. He tried to shake off the sudden, persistent thoughts.
He was already dead. Thoughts that could not become action only gave birth to helplessness.
“Please take care of Mother.”
When he opened his eyes, Tan Guosheng’s face had turned serious. He was holding Gyeoul’s hand.
“Mother is someone who will become hope for the Chinese people. I suppose I should say her life no longer belongs only to one person. Protect her no matter what. I am trusting only you.”
Gyeoul quietly looked into Tan Guosheng’s eyes.
This was supposed to be an apocalyptic world he had entered to live out a dream of getting angry at things that looked like people, and yet the Gyeoul Alliance had been like this, and every apocalypse he had experienced so far had been like this too.
The central screen changed. It now showed the progress of the landing operation.
The pike square was striking. Trained civilians had been given long spears and placed at the front, while troops and vehicles armed with various firearms stayed inside the square.
At a closed airport, in a broad open area, it was a fairly effective method.
Watching it, Gyeoul felt that his remaining time as Kurt Lee was short.
‘Tomorrow will be the turning point.’
‘I want to return to the story I was making.’ The thought had been in Gyeoul’s heart for some time, but now the urge suddenly grew stronger.
And the day changed.
============================ Author’s Note ============================
#Alliances and Maneuvering
It should be over in about 2 to 3 more chapters. It is time for the Control AI to appear again. This one is hard to write every time it appears, so I am already worried.
#Statue of Liberty
The part about making the Statue of Liberty fly was included in the American magazine Popular Science. The original text is as follows.
We could get the Statue of Liberty to do barrel rolls with the onboard computers that achieved aerodynamic capability by executing thousand of tiny electrohydraulic adjustments every second to an airplane's control surface.
#Q&A
Q. Crysis2-nim: If someone asks whether there is anything to recommend on Joara, The Ossuary comes up first. I am always enjoying it.
A. Thank you. I will keep working hard so you can continue enjoying it.
Q. Erin’s Bard-nim: Does Gyeoul feel nothing about carrying out executions himself? I did not think Gyeoul had the kind of personality that would simply accept something like that...
A. There was a part where he thought of it as a necessary evil. It is the same as when he dealt with the assassin who had a rusty knife near the beginning of the novel. He does not like it, but he accepts it as, this is where my limits are.
Q. Kaif-nim: I sent 27 manuscript fee coupons. Would that be enough for you to buy candy? Please eat something sweet and unfold sweet childlike innocence.
A. With twenty-seven, I could buy not just some candy, but a whole Sarangbang Gift Candy tin and still have some left over.
Hmm, now that I think of it, I want some. I really liked it when I was young. Where could I buy it now...
Q. CommonKestrel-nim: The emphasis on stretching whenever you have time really was not there for nothing. Please take care of your health. How much coffee do you drink in a day? Is there anything you take to manage your condition?
A. I did not drink coffee until I started writing Ossuary. These days, I sometimes drink a cup.
Instead, I drink a lot of Bacchus. Lately I have been trying not to for my health, but late last year, I think I drank one bottle every single day. Sometimes two.
Footnotes:
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