Thursday, April 2, 2015

Full Metal Panic! Volume 09

The morning sun was shining from a small window in the ceiling.

In an old car in the corner of a repair shop a girl was facing three notebook PCs.

Various extensive numerical values appeared on the bulky screen. She took it all in at the same time as she busily scrolled. She started to get irritated because she needed to keep switching back and forth between windows. In order to speed the process up she would have needed three screens. At that rate, she didn’t know how many more days it would take to start her work.

Inside the repair shop, a miserable unit- the body frame of an Arm Slave- was being tuned as it hung isolated in the corner.

It had no arms or legs. Not even armor. On the miniscule excuse of a head there were no sensors, so the machine guns could not be loaded. Originally it was installed with a low temperature nuclear battery called a Palladium Reactor; now, it was hollow.

The screen continued to spit out information.

The girl greedily absorbed the information, tapping on the keyboard at the same time. Using a programming language called BAda, she pounded in the necessary instructions.

Nimbly, precisely.

Compared to the traditional computer language it was a highly efficient high-level language. 100 lines of commands in traditional language only took a few lines to convey.

As she pounded on the keys, inside of her head she was talking to someone.

Good Afternoon. You seem to be dead already.

You’ve already felt complete defeat. Everything ended, the lights turned off. You’re thinking that you’ve been released from the battle. No, you’re not thinking. Right now you are the same as dirt. As dirt you don’t think of anything. As dirt you don’t feel sadness.

However, that moment of darkness will end.

Everyone thinks that you are in ruins. But I don’t think so.

The interface that you were called was destroyed, but right now, I am reconstructing that.
Your heart still remains.

As you run on the infinite circuit of the quantum beat, with those reassuring vestiges, I can feel it somewhere-

The angle of the sunlight from the ceiling window had changed.

There was not enough oxygen going to her brain. She took a deep breath, massaging her stiff shoulder.

Now her brain did not have enough sugar. She bit into the chocolate bar that was on her desk and drank up some cold milk coffee.

And then pounded on the keys once more.

One line, and another line. All the while getting close to “Him”.

The morning sun changed to the setting sun, and she realized that her work was nearing completion. She turned to the woman who was reading in the corner of the repair shop.

“Electricity please.”

The woman closed the book and got up.

A unit was installed to the side of the incomplete Arm slave- it was connected to an electronic machine the size of a refrigerator. From it hung a large lever on the corner of the wall.

To continue reading, you can download pdf file here!