WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 307: Greek Islands (7)

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Naturally, some of the reporters felt the revelation did not quite add up. During the Q&A after the presentation, amid an atmosphere that had flowed strangely in the candidate's favor, someone cut loudly into another reporter's question. The voice was sharp.

“Hey! Why won't you give me the floor? I've had my hand up this whole time!”

The volume was almost loud enough to have come through a megaphone, so it could not be ignored. For the organizers, that was the drawback of a live broadcast. Among the attendees other than the reporters, the fervent supporters stirred angrily. The interruption was rude, they were saying. But the candidate on stage did not waver. He casually raised a hand to calm his people, then fixed the angry questioner with a friendly smile on his square face.

“I was wondering who it was, and it turns out to be a familiar face. My apologies, Whitfield. Don't be upset. I would hardly pretend not to know the person who writes more articles about me than anyone else, would I?”

The last question was aimed at the whole room, and it drew agreement and laughter. Apparently, the reporter named Whitfield had long been highly critical of Kramer. And since security personnel were among those Kramer had stopped with his gesture, even if the content and order of the questions had not been decided in advance, the invitations themselves must have been issued selectively.

The presidential candidate then asked the interrupted reporter for understanding, with the same relaxed air.

“Miss Huber, would you mind waiting a moment? I think I should deal with that impatient gentleman over there first. Well, Mr. Whitfield may not look it, but he is a gentleman, so I am sure he won't keep you waiting long.”

Another ripple of laughter spread. There was an edge under the humor. He had also created an excuse to cut off the exchange at a convenient point while answering. Kramer asked again.

“So, Whitfield. What is your question?”

“The credibility and legitimacy of the materials presented, and the gap between the candidate's claims and the evidence.”

It was concise, but too difficult for the general public watching the broadcast.

Still, if Whitfield wanted to compress it into a single question, the choice was unavoidable.

“First, credibility. The materials presented certainly match the format of classified government documents, but there is no guarantee they are real. In this age of rampant conspiracy theories, getting your hands on one or two well-made forgeries would be easy enough. Add a few deranged former public officials, and it becomes simple. They could also be bait created by remnants of the 『True Patriots』 to fan the chaos. Isn't one of the chief culprits, Nathan Chadwick, still alive somewhere?”

The candidate answered leisurely.

“That is a reasonable point. I would like to reveal the source of the documents, but for the informant's safety, I must keep that secret.”

He took a breath like a sigh, then continued in a sterner tone.

“But one thing is clear. Contrary to what you always claim, I am not making baseless slander. Determining whether these documents are authentic is now the press's job. I, Edgar Kramer, make this promise here and now. If the 『Greek Islands』 plan itself is proven to be a fiction that never existed, I will withdraw from the presidential race.”

It was a clever promise. Even if the revelations about 『Greek Islands』 contained major errors, as long as a plan by that name had existed at all, he would no longer need to withdraw his candidacy.

But on the surface, at least, the candidate looked resolute and determined. It was the kind of face people liked.

In any case, the weight of his promise to withdraw was enough to stop the reporter from pressing further.

“Then my next question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Assuming the documents you released today are real, you may be charged with leaking and disclosing materials designated as military secrets without authorization. You should know that even simple possession of serious secrets directly tied to national security can be grounds for punishment. Candidate Kramer, you do not have the authority to view those secrets. What do you think about that?”

Kramer nodded calmly.

“You are correct.”

Strictly speaking, someone else must have leaked them, but he avoided a long explanation that would sound like an excuse.

“But it feels odd to receive that question from you, of all people. Whitfield, haven't you always argued that the citizens' right to know is more important than the law?”

“...Candidate, you are muddying the issue.”

“No. I am pointing directly at the heart of it.”

His energetic voice naturally emphasized each phrase.

“Even if only half of what I told the American people today is true! This is already an enormous scandal, surpassing the Contra affair. Just as President Reagan had his dirty secrets, there was a real power ruling America from behind the curtain. Those who dwell in the abyss of this nation, the Deep state, betrayed the will of the people and democracy itself. If they want to judge me under the people's law for exposing them, then let them try. In the end, the people will raise the hand of the righteous side.”

There was no way punishment would be possible. The Democratic Party's approval ratings had risen, but their lead was by no means overwhelming. Arresting a presidential candidate would make half of America rise up in resistance. Considering that the presidential election was also a means of venting public frustration, it was even more unthinkable.

Incitement was easy, but rebuttal was hard. Since Whitfield could not prove all the documents false on the spot, there was no way to corner a candidate who claimed to be prepared for punishment.

Gyeoul tapped on his smartphone.

“What was the Contra affair?”

Since there was no common-sense correction through augmented reality, it seemed like the sort of thing ordinary Americans of this era might not know. That might also be an indicator of the failure of American public education.

A slightly delayed answer came back from the FBI supervisor.

“To summarize, it was an incident where the Central Intelligence Agency illegally raised and delivered funds while supporting rebels in order to overthrow Nicaragua's anti-American government. They even bought drugs produced by the rebels and distributed them domestically. If not for that incident, my career might have been different.”

It meant that, although it was an old scandal, the aftereffects had lingered long after it ended. Then again, once drug addicts were created, how could they disappear so easily? Drugs flowing into poor communities tended to become a social problem that did not simply go away. Those were shadows where public authority had little control. That was why Gyeoul had paid so much attention to the issue from the early days of the alliance.

'America is a country where police don't go into neighborhoods without money.'

More precisely, the concept was that security services were not provided to people who did not bear the cost of public safety. It was the same logic as firefighters watching someone's house burn because the owner had not paid fire service fees, and only putting out the flames once they spread to the neighboring house.

Judging from her tone, Anne seemed to have bad memories involving drugs from even before she joined the FBI.

The press conference continued.

“Then my final question.”

Despite the many glares and the silent pressure, the dark-skinned reporter's voice remained clear and steady.

“The evidence presented so far does not sufficiently support the claims you made today. In particular, regarding the nuclear attack plan, there are only orders to increase production and deployment of neutron bombs, and an environmental impact assessment report targeting contaminated zones. There is nothing anywhere stating that the U.S. mainland would be struck at the same time as the airship's launch. Information about the toxin produced as Morgellons is destroyed by radiation is also mentioned only briefly in a later report, and there does not appear to be any clear mention of its effects on the human body. Could you explain?”

“Well, this is surprising. To think you read this many documents in such a short time.”

Gyeoul thought the reporter's ability was remarkable. Kramer also did not hide his admiration. There was no sign of nervousness. Whether he was calm or pretending to be calm was another matter.

“But it seems you did not read them carefully! Look at the deployed delivery systems. They include many new missiles with short ranges. My military adviser saw this and told me they appeared to have sacrificed range to increase the number of warheads to an extreme degree. And if they are being placed in silos rather than on mobile launchers, isn't their purpose obvious? It is not as if there are other countries within range.”

“What I mean is that tying this to 『Greek Islands』 simply because the mainland is the target is a stretch. Neutron bombs are nuclear weapons well suited for use in the worst-case scenario, where the blockade line has completely collapsed. They kill living things through an instantaneous burst of neutron radiation rather than through the blast. Compared to their effect, residual radiation is very low, and if the detonation altitude is adjusted, ground damage from the explosion can also be minimized.”

The reporter, clearly familiar with military affairs, continued with an explanation plainly aimed at the viewers.

“In other words, even if they must be used, most of the defensive facilities forming the blockade line can be preserved. And since the blast is small, the resulting updraft is also small, limiting the range over which the mutated Morgellons complex, or that unidentified toxin, spreads on high air currents. The point is, this is a measure worth preparing if the purpose is to rebuild the quarantine front in an emergency. I think this is a separate plan with no connection to 『Greek Islands』.”

The presidential candidate took it calmly.

“Thank you for sharing that interesting thought.”

The implication was that Whitfield's claim, too, was nothing more than a personal opinion.

“I acknowledge that possibility! But you must also acknowledge the possibility I have raised. At least I have more evidence than you do. The informant said all this information came from a single source. Wouldn't that alone be grounds to infer that these plans were discussed in the same context?”

The reporter tried to say something again, but this time the people nearby protested. There was a set time for Q&A, so how long did Whitfield intend to monopolize the floor? It was true enough, so Whitfield had nothing to say.

To begin with, assigning speaking rights was the organizers' role, so Whitfield had in fact been rude from the start.

“Calm down. Everyone, calm down.”

Kramer settled the sharp-edged crowd.

“Well, it is true that I have kept Miss Huber waiting too long. I apologize on everyone's behalf. I am sorry.”

Compared to his rough appearance, his way of speaking, laced with humor, was smooth and fluent. So much so that it felt out of place beside the loose logic of his earlier revelations. Gyeoul read what lay beneath it.

'Did he think that was exactly the listeners' level?'

Just a moment ago, Gyeoul had been thinking about the failure of public education. No matter how chaotic the times were, the chances that an openly stupid person had made it through the Republican Party primary were low. Kramer, a wealthy businessman famous for his business sense, might simply have thrown out only what excited consumers wanted. Condemnation of the government, easy evidence, and a firm image. Advertising, politics, and commerce shared the same roots.

Kramer pointed a finger toward the sky.

“Let me summarize! The most important implication of the conspiracy revealed today is that, one way or another, the government tried to abandon the people. Behind it were politicians who privatized power, and a small group of wealthy people who damaged the honor of the entire business community. Therefore, it could not be clearer that we, who were destined to be abandoned together, must unite. In the America led by me, Edgar Kramer! Everyone will live! Or everyone will die! Isn't our becoming one exactly what God would approve of?”

That cry received applause from those friendly to him. The last line was a variation on the old saying, “God approves of what we do.”

Nothing especially noteworthy happened in the proceedings after that.

Gyeoul tapped on the phone keypad again.

“What do you think?”

After three or four breaths, the device vibrated.

“A lot of sparks are going to catch fire.”

It was only a text, but the sigh of someone working in the field came through clearly.

Replies arrived one after another.

“They'll start verifying the truth from now on, but even if it turns out to be a complete lie, it won't matter to people who believe because they want to believe and get angry because they want to be angry.”

“When life is hard, and understanding why it is hard is too complicated, people tend to simplify their situation down to a level they can understand.”

“No, they have no choice but to.”

“They choose a target for the anger that was boiling inside them because they had nowhere to release it, and for the resentment they had nowhere to voice. You could call it the root of all evil.”

“Sometimes that target is the government, sometimes the Republican Party or the Democratic Party, sometimes capitalists or workers, sometimes white people or black people. Sometimes it has been communists, sometimes rednecks, sometimes men and women, sometimes the parent generation and the child generation. Recently, it has been Chinese people.”

“If survival were truly desperate, it might actually be less severe...”

She was implying that, as the tension at the quarantine front eased, public opinion had become easier to ignite.

Gyeoul read Anne's messages several times. They were likely impressions she had built up as an investigator while experiencing many shades of society, and something in them struck him deeply.

Through the Star Child, he had learned the history of suffering endured by virtual personalities across countless worlds. Afterlife Insurance users treated virtual personalities like trash cans for dumping unwanted emotions. But even before that, the way people treated other people outside themselves had been no different.

People were simply doing what they had always done. He had known it, but now he understood it anew.

'It feels like sweeping everything on a messy desk into a drawer.'

As long as the space they mainly used was clean, that was enough.

Lost in thought, Gyeoul's fingertips tapped the table in a slow rhythm.

Tap, tap, tap.

That slow rhythm carried an impossible fantasy. What if there were only goodwill in the world? If there could be only goodwill. If there were a world where the season of blooming flowers continued all year round...

Footnotes:

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