WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 239: Suspended Sentence (11)

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The day turned, and as dawn broke over the horizon, a formation of transport helicopters flew in. They were large models, each able to carry dozens of people, so there would be no trouble loading all the civilians.

In the middle of it all, a commotion broke out among the children. A dachshund was barking pitifully. The little lady who had embarrassed the Green Beret yesterday had been hugging it tightly instead of a doll, but the dog struggled so desperately that she ended up dropping it. It must have hurt when it hit the ground with a thud, but the short-legged dog sprang right back up and sprinted in a straight line. At the end of that line were the mobile unit members, Schultz among them.

“Well now. You are a difficult little thing.”

The men sighed as they watched the dog run frantically around beneath the bridge. They had planned to send it somewhere safe with the civilians. Whether it understood the soldiers’ distress or not, the dog whined and wagged its lowered tail, watching their faces. Having already been abandoned once only made it worse.

The Green Beret offered a brief comment.

“The dog’s better than the daughter.”

It was a throwaway bit of nonsense.

The girl came running after it, her blue skirt fluttering. The rifle slung over her back swayed half a beat behind each step. It had a short barrel, and a trauma pad had been attached to the stock to absorb recoil. Gyeoul remembered an advertisement from a firearm company. Something about the best gift for your child.

「If your child does not know how to handle a gun, you are neglecting your duty as a parent right now.」

The Green Beret snorted when he saw the gun. He did not seem to like it. Of course he would not. He was someone who would kill and keep killing to protect his daughter, so if a child was walking around with a gun, he would put that responsibility on himself. He would think the useless adults had failed to kill enough, and that was why children now had to shoot too.

Schultz held the dog out to the girl. But she did not take it.

“I think you should take Fernando, mister.”

“Fernando? Is that the name you gave him?”

The soldier, who had deliberately avoided naming the dog, asked. The little lady gave a solemn nod.

“Yes. His full name is Fernando Francisco de Paula Domingo Vicente Ferrer Antonio...”

It was long. As Jose Joaquin Pascual and more followed, Schultz’s expression grew strained.

“...Calixto Cayetano Fausto Luis Raimundo Gregorio Lorenzo Jeronimo, so please make sure you remember it. Fernando, you must not forget either. I will not forget you.”

At the tearful farewell, the dog barked. “Arf!”

“Uh... That is quite a long name.”

At the soldier’s bewildered response, the girl nodded again.

“Yes. Long names are cool. They say it was Fernando VII’s full name.”

“Who... is Fernando VII?”

“He was a king of Spain a long time ago. You are an adult, and you do not even know that?”

The girl, who had been teary-eyed only moments ago, now lifted her chin proudly. She was at the age where children memorized things that sounded difficult and took pride in them.

“Sorry...”

After apologizing for no reason, Schultz held a brief staring contest with the dachshund. Fernando Francisco... hung in the air, wagging his tail furiously. Arf! Arf! His eyes were wet and pitiful. Words were not going to get through, either, so it had been a fight a human could not win from the start. Schultz turned to Gyeoul.

“What should I do with this fellow? Would it be better to force him aboard after all?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll leave that to your judgment. The Colonel won’t say anything over a dog.”

“...”

Even during the Great War, there had been plenty of cases where units kept animals together. While Schultz sank deeper into thought, the little lady approached Gyeoul this time and stared up at him. After gesturing that everything was fine to the girl’s parents and the soldiers guiding the civilians aboard, Gyeoul knelt to meet her eyes.

“Do you have something to say to me?”

“Yes. Please make sure Mom and Dad cannot hear.”

Unexpectedly, the child’s business concerned the death-row inmates.

“The men in orange clothes are going with you, right, Major?”

“They are. Why?”

“What will happen to the person who saved my friends?”

“...”

“I heard Mom and Dad talking with the other adults. They said those people have to be punished. They said even the person who saved my friends did something wrong a long time ago, so there is nothing they can do. When we ask what punishment they will get, they will not answer. I guess they think we will not know just because they do that. We are not stupid.”

“They are going to kill them, right?” The girl shook her head with a sigh.

“That is why my friends feel bad. I do too. He must have been locked up in prison because he did something wrong, but if he were really, really nothing but bad, he would not have saved my friends. I think killing someone who is not truly, truly bad is the worse thing to do. So I came to ask you, Major. Oh right, that fifty-fifty guy’s name is Manuel Hayes. Did you know?”

“Yes, I know. I heard it from him. But fifty-fifty guy? What does that mean?”

“He is half bad and half good, so he is fifty-fifty. That is what we call him.”

It was an amusing expression. Lately, Gyeoul had been getting many chances to encounter childlike innocence. A smile brushed his lips.

“Please answer me now. Will that mister die?”

The girl pressed him. But it was still uncertain. He could lie to reassure her, but the tone she had used when talking about adults bothered him. Feeling a sense of déjà vu, Gyeoul answered honestly in the end.

“I still do not know. I do not want to kill him either. Like you said, there are not many people who are only bad.”

“Then you can just let him live.”

“It is not something I get to decide. But I promise. I will do everything I can.”

“A real promise is made by hooking pinkies.”

The little lady held out her small hand. “Here.” Gyeoul hooked his finger with hers. The people around them, who had no idea what conversation was passing between them, watched with warm, pleased expressions. A pilot with dark circles under the eyes was filming them on a Net Warrior device from the helicopter cockpit. It was more likely video than a photo.

The girl moved their hands up and down as she hummed.

“Pinky, pinky, hook your pinky and make a promise. Whoever tells a lie will sink into a scary place and never float back up again.”

The short song ended, and their fingers came apart. The girl warned Gyeoul.

“If you break the promise now, something bad will happen, so you have to be careful.”

“I will make sure to keep it.”

“Take this.”

What she held out was a piece of paper folded like a paper tile.

“Is this a letter?”

“Yes. My friends wrote it together. Please give it to the judge.”

The death-row inmates would never stand trial again, but the child did not know that.

“All right. I will be sure to give it to the judge.”

Gyeoul answered while picturing Colonel Rogers’ stubborn face.

It was hard to drag things out any longer. The pilots had schedules too. As the engine noise rose, Gyeoul led the girl back to her parents. He accepted her farewell and walked backward while waving, but the girl called him to a stop.

“Wait. Please lend me your ear.”

What now? Gyeoul obediently lowered his ear, and there was a kiss against his cheek. This time, the little lady really did return to her parents. Held in her flustered mother’s arms, the girl turned only her head and smiled brightly.

“Thank you for saving Mom and Dad, Mister Barnes, Auntie Natalie, and everyone else! You were really cool! I am Marie! Marie Patterson! After I sleep one hundred nights and become an adult, I will come marry you, Major!”

The Pattersons looked back and forth between Gyeoul and their daughter. The wife laughed as if she found it funny, while the husband looked sullen. Until recently, you said you were going to marry Daddy. His daughter argued back. Do you think I am still a little kid?

The soldiers whistled. Playful jeers mixed in. This was what happened after he assigned the healthier ones to guide the civilians. Even Morales added a comment.

“My God. Was that pinky promise earlier a marriage promise?”

“It was not...”

“What, if you can wait, is it really a problem? I saw it on TV. Apparently some president in the old days, Cleveland or something, courted his wife from when she was very young.”

President Grover Cleveland was famous for marrying the daughter of a dead friend.

“Is that so? Say one more word.”

Of course, being told to say more did not mean he actually would. For a Sergeant, snickering was enough.

Once the civilians had finished boarding, it was the wounded and mentally unstable people’s turn. Among them was the Staff Sergeant from last night who had blown up his own shin with detonation cord and cauterized the wound with explosives. He shouted like a beast. “Wooooooow!” Everyone staying behind looked over.

“I am on a helicopter! I am on a helicopter! Everybody look at me! I said I am on a helicopter right now! Take a good look at this badass helicopter! Hahaha! I am getting discharged, you motherfuckers!”

I am the king of the world! Hahahaha!

The transport bay door closed. After the helicopter lifted off, one soldier folded down his middle finger and wiped away tears.

“That son of a bitch Halloway really was a decent asshole.”

“...”

After the transport helicopter formation took off, it was time for the temporary company to leave as well. The soldiers, having finished a simple meal, looked much better than they had when they arrived. Luckily, there were enough vehicles that no one had to walk. Though it was a mongrel of a unit, it did not lack firepower.

Gyeoul gave orders.

“Rangers take the lead. Alpha Team handles rear security. Each team takes one Humvee. According to aerial reconnaissance, we do not expect any incidents before arrival, but do not let your guard down. We do not need to maintain radio silence, but when passing west of Sebastopol, use platoon channels whenever possible. Check your frequencies before departure.”

By coincidence, the river flowing through this area was the Russian River, and among the settlements along its banks was one called Sebastopol. A broad residential area had developed there, with farmland mixed into the outskirts, so there was a chance a small mutant ambush might be waiting.

The sky stayed noisy the entire time they moved. So many aircraft flew overhead that every cloud from the east to the far west had been pushed into a grid. Beneath them, the fields that had lost their agricultural water supply were green stained here and there with yellow.

Just in case, he took out his Net Warrior device, and a medium-strength signal came through. Until now, he had carried it in case he needed to use it as a ballistic calculator or connect it to an armored vehicle’s Blue Force Tracker, but now its communication function had come back to life.

‘Is a high-altitude relay aircraft, Scaled Composites Proteus, in the air?’

It used a different channel from the tactical PDA. Gyeoul fiddled with the device, decided this was not the time, and tucked it away inside his clothes. Even now, the soldiers were sneaking glances at it. America or not, they did not have the capacity to issue communication terminals to an army of ten million.

After the temporary company had crossed more than half the plain, it headed south with State Route 1 on its flank.

“Major. Cavalry scouts are approaching.”

It was Harper’s report while handling the backpack radio. The cavalry that appeared a short while later was cavalry in the literal sense. Before the plague, the name would have been tradition only and the unit itself would have been armored, but now it was closer to the Western era. Even from a distance, the horses ridden by the scouts had an incredible sheen.

“Wow, what the hell is that? That color is damn stylish.”

Morales admired the leader’s appearance. Across the field where heat shimmered in the air, on the border between spring and summer, the golden steed stood out with unreal clarity.

============================ Author’s Note ============================

#Q&A

Q. Calpis: @Inside a mutant’s skull is the author...?

A. Uh, well... I mean, their actions are ultimately something I write...

Q. Roanid: @I am enjoying this novel full of childlike innocence, haha. But as someone lacking in childlike innocence, I want to know whether the relationship between Gyeoul’s debt and his broadcast income is positive or negative. How much influence does Gyeoul’s broadcast have on extending Gyeoul’s Afterlife Insurance?

A. It is enough that, on top of interest, he is slowly paying back some of the principal as well. If things stay as they are now, he will not be disposed of.

Q. nnuhgwyegd: @Author, the episodes and story progression are slow, so it is boring...

A. That is unfortunate. From my end, this is the best I can do right now, so there is not much I can change.

Q. PAM: @Oof, a flag went up. Looks like the Rangers are going to get massacred... Anyway, trait transfer being reinfection... In that case, large groups will probably end up with similar traits. They should not have resistance to biochemical weapons yet, though. I think they were avoiding using those because it would be a pain if they developed resistance. It might be possible to wipe them all out with one biochemical weapon strike. There is a reason nature avoids perfect sameness. Well, the problem is that you would need to understand that first. If there are a lot of mutants, the mutation chance rises that much too... In many ways, this world setting has no answer. I feel like people will live forever drawing lines... A scenario where humanity loses because of supply issues.

A. There are many limits to traits that spread through reinfection. In chemical warfare, securing the original form of Morgellons is considered an important issue.

Q. UnlimitedOne: @This is the scene where one Ranger raises a death flag... The Humpback was as expected. And the Green Beret really is a Green Beret! In some ways, you could call it a stereotype from fiction, but it felt natural, so I liked it.

A. Come to think of it, Rambo was a Green Beret too. It also reminds me of the comedy movie The A-Team. Haha. Personally, I tend not to use things like death flags.

Q. Kxino: @Honestly, this work is in a slightly minor genre, but it is practically literary fiction... The depiction of emotions between people and so on is amazing...

A. Uh, I am grateful that you see it favorably, but compared to general literature, where writers spend years of time and effort on a single volume, I think it cannot help but be somewhat lacking.

Q. rumen: @You said it would have been dangerous if they had taken more time. Does that mean it was a good decision to carry out the rescue operation before the immature form grew bigger?

A. Because once it started accumulating due to metabolic suppression, it would accumulate without end.

I will end today’s answers here.

Footnotes:

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