The Little Prince in the Ossuary-Chapter 121 : April Vengeance (10)

April Vengeance (10)
The FBI agent was exerting pressure from the other end of the radio. Communication routed through the destroyer Higgins and connected to the aircraft carrier. The survivors rescued from the smokestack had been taken there.
The ugly past of the luxurious cruise ship had already been confirmed through video footage. What the female detective wanted to extract from the survivors was more concrete testimony, and information about the other survivors.
Even just learning the composition and tendencies of the survivor group would be a big help. Clashes with armed forces didn't always end in firefights, after all.
"All right, chef. Now, tell me about the ingredients you handled."
Joanna Gibson's voice carried no emotion. Yet her face was overflowing with feeling.
[Uhm... Are you really, truly not going to hold me responsible?]
The man, who identified himself as a prep cook from April Pacific, said he originally handled meat in the grand galley (kitchen).
'In other words, he was basically a human butcher...'
Starting from the grand theater, Gyeo-ul skimmed through the past few months aboard the ship with the detective.
Among the records were killings disguised as cuisine. If, as a low-rank cook, he prepared the base ingredients, it meant his role was to turn people into meat.
"Well, that depends on you. If you keep dragging things out with pointless talk like this... I can't say when I'll change my mind."
When negotiating with criminals, you mustn't give them leisure. The bait was a plea deal.
[Ah, okay. I'll speak.]
The chef began his testimony. April Pacific left mainland Australia last summer.
[We ran out of the originally loaded food in just two months. But everyone was afraid to turn back. They couldn't trust the Australian government. The governor—he said staying at sea was safest.]
Food shortage. It seemed he wanted to first talk about the justification for dismantling humans. But there was something more concerning than food shortages in his testimony. The agent pointed that out.
"The governor? Are you saying the governor of Australia was aboard this ship?"
Gyeo-ul, listening, also tilted his head in confusion. It's true that Commonwealth countries have the Queen of England's representatives, but would even the governor of Australia abandon the government and come all the way here? Even for a powerless honorary position...
[No, that's not it. He... No, that person is the governor of the Pacific Republic.]
"Speak so I can understand. Unless you want to be locked away with no chance of parole."
[Ah, sorry. I apologize.]
The chef continued to babble. Subjects and objects often omitted, rambling and correcting himself. Agent Gibson frowned and summarized.
"So, april Pacific is the territory of the Pacific Republic, and this governor claims to be the head of state?"
[It's not just a claim. The governor was unanimously elected through a public vote... No, was elected.]
Isolated people become strange. The luxury cruise's lockdown lasted long enough for collective madness to ferment. It was long enough for an instigator advocating cannibalism to gain support.
[The harvest was about once a week.]
Harvest? The word the chef used made the detective mutter a curse. "Fuck."
She let go of the transmit button in time, so the subject didn't hear. Still, a pause could make them nervous. It's best not to lose momentum once they start talking. Time must be saved. The detective pressed on:
"Did you really have to harvest that often?"
[Long pork doesn't keep fresh longer than that.]
Long pork. The term comes from calling humans "long pig."
There were even times in Europe when cannibalism was rationalized.
Tragedy starts when people stop seeing others as people. People must never become commodities.
"... Continue."
The detective muttered it was all shit again. Since the chef had demanded immunity, he must have realized his own guilt. Yet there was no sense of remorse in his statement. He was numb.
'Of course. You couldn't endure such an experience without rationalizing it.'
The boy thought about human frailty. Rationalization was a device for self-preservation—a way to guard oneself from guilt. Having seen parents justify selling their children, Gyeo-ul understood easily. Severe guilt breeds fierce rationalization.
Those who cannot do so must be dead already. It was a world where consciences killed people. The good die first, both in life and now. With a world made so from digging up the past, perhaps that's simply human limitation. Gyeo-ul dwelled on those limits.
The testimony continued.
[No matter what, we never ate white people. It was too horrifying. We mostly picked up those from Vietnam, Cambodia, the Philippines. Every time a broadcast was made, several large and small ships would show up.]
"Broadcasts... Did you pretend to share food or something?"
The detective probed for the truth. The chef answered immediately.
[Yes. It was such a difficult task that the governor himself took charge. He said he'd take responsibility as head of state.]
"Wait a minute. If that's how you operated, there'd be no way to avoid pirates, would there?"
[Ah, originally there was an escort ship. I heard it was a destroyer from some country, and the governor's son was its captain. It sank recently in a fight with pirates, though.]
Escort ships and public votes—and a dictator. You can figure out the rest. Power comes from the barrel of a gun.
Then what were the escort crew thinking to follow their captain? Did they receive pleasures from the cruise ship? In a world rushing to its end, had even ordinary people gone mad?
'Well, even the 7th California had trouble controlling their troops at first...'
Private First Class Elliot had mentioned it. Many soldiers had lost family. Their unstable mental state kept them from being deployed. It was also what led the US military in contaminated zones to accept refugee volunteer troops.
The detective's interrogation went on for a time, finally arriving at the last question.
"One last thing. Answer honestly. Did you know what was happening in the theater?"
A coliseum of humans and the plague. The chef answered that he didn't know. The detective looked about to press, then scowled and fell silent. Instead, she asked for the next person to be put on. There should be someone on the carrier assigned to watch the survivors.
[Here's someone new.]
A cold, curt first remark. The detective spoke:
"This is Joanna Gibson, field supervisor, federal Bureau of Investigation. Please state your rank and name."
[... Master-at-arms Torry Mattson.]
The master-at-arms is responsible for policing within the navy, as well as security of facilities and naval ships. Although their affiliations differed, there was something of a mutual understanding with FBI agents.
"All right, master-at-arms Mattson. I trust you've been listening in and know the situation."
[Is there a point you're getting at?]
"I'm wondering if I should request witness protection from the navy."
[Witness protection? For that piece of garbage? Hah. There's no place for human trash on this ship.]
"Is that so? Then what do you plan to do?"
[Beat them within an inch of death, then toss them into the sea.]
"Wow."
Mouth only, feigning surprise without a change of expression, the detective continued:
"So you are refusing a legitimate request from the Federal Bureau of Investigation without grounds. You know the rules of inter-agency cooperation in contaminated zones during the Quarantine War, don't you? You realize this could have adverse effects on your career. Are you refusing anyway?"
[Nice threat. So what?]
"I'll this to superiors and file a formal complaint with the navy. I do still have pending mission assignments—I suppose it'll be a few months before I get around to it... Hm, better make sure I don't forget. My memory has been poor since I passed thirty."
[Heh.]
The master-at-arms' incredulous laugh. Someone screamed in the background, "That's not what you promised!"
The line was briefly cut. The detective, waiting for reconnection with uncharacteristic coyness for her age, eventually heard the line come back, with the noisy background now silenced.
[Well, that was entertaining nonsense. Any other requests? Shall I put you through to the combat information center?]
"No, that's fine. I'll contact you again if I need help."
[Understood. Mattson out.]
When the call ended, Gyeo-ul looked over. The detective offered an explanation without being asked.
"Field investigation requires flexibility. If the other side refuses, sometimes there's just nothing you can do. I don't think we need to make an issue out of this."
"I understand. It's understandable. He said he was only following orders...but the crime is too great."
Throughout his testimony, the chef insisted on his innocence. But just how many people did he slaughter? Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? Gibson sighed.
"Even for soldiers, whose virtue is obedience, there's a duty to refuse immoral orders. Not that I can claim any special virtue myself."
Gyeo-ul understood her. As the agent herself said, the work of a detective required flexibility. Rules were not always kept. There must have been wrongdoing.
'Come to think of it, even plea bargaining isn't exactly the right thing.'
It's the lesser evil chosen to avoid the worst.
Gyeo-ul remembered a movie he had watched with his sister as a child. The story of a man whose wife and daughter were murdered. There were two criminals, but only one was punished due to a plea deal. Enraged, the man began seeking revenge on not only the criminals, but everyone who participated in the plea bargain.
It was a real old classic, not even a 3D movie, so it was free. But just because there was no price didn't mean it was uninteresting. As a young boy, after watching the film, he thought deeply about his own feelings of hatred.
Exactly how far must one hate?
In truth, Gyeo-ul didn't think killing the chef was right. Was there really no way to have resisted? Life imprisonment without parole—yes, that would probably be about right.
But he didn't object, knowing this was the reality's limit. Human society simply doesn't work so ideally.
'No, perhaps it simply can't.'
Gyeo-ul let go of his lingering regrets, then pointed with his finger.
"Shall we finally answer that call?"
An internal line had been flashing persistently for a while. Blink, blink. It was an incoming call from the management office on the third floor. The grand galley was on that floor as well—the location of the human butchery.
When the ship had changed direction, everyone knew someone was on the bridge. It wouldn't be surprising if the one signaling was the so-called governor of the Pacific Republic.
The detective hesitated but reached out. Gyeo-ul stopped her.
"I'll take it. You must be stressed."
"Forgive me, but First Lieutenant, your negotiation skills are... no, never mind."
When Gyeo-ul smiled, agent Gibson finished what she'd started to say.
"Don't worry. If the other side is a madman, logic won't work anyway. In that case, perhaps it's better for you to handle it, first Lieutenant—you're quite the global celebrity. A ship like this could probably pick up satellite transmissions, too. Whoever's on the other end, they'll be tense."
"A global celebrity? And satellite transmissions?"
"Yes. The propaganda broadcasts are transmitted worldwide via satellite. Your share in them is considerable."
"Why do that... No, I get it."
The female detective nodded readily.
"As you've probably guessed, it's to let people know that the United States is overcoming the catastrophe. It's a means to secure the upper hand in negotiations with other countries."
In the end, it was part of a psychological warfare campaign. After weighing the possible effects, Gyeo-ul picked up the receiver.
---------------------------= Author's Note ---------------------------=
#Five months, five volumes
It's been five months since I started serialization. Looks like I'm approaching 800,000 characters.
In terms of book count, that's about five volumes.
Even though that's one book a month, on Noblesse, that's a snail's pace...
Authors who produce two or three books per month are truly admirable.
Noblesse is a really tough place.
#Q&A
Q. optatum: @You already use subheadings in the text, but could you group or classify your episodes by subheading order? Since all titles are the same, it's a bit tough when I want to revisit a scene... It would be more noticeable and convenient if you used subheadings.
A. Actually, I originally avoided it because the novel's structure—using both subheadings and locations, plus intermissions and chat interruptions—would get messy. But since I get repeated requests, I'll gradually make changes.
Q. Pirque: @Got up to date, good read. I paid for three days' access, but finished it all in under 24 hours. The author is still brimming with childlike wonder. It's beautiful to share that innocent spirit. The issue of plagiarism is serious—loss of revenue is an issue, but what really hurts is discouraging the author. Please keep up the great work!
A. Thank you for the encouragement. But wow, reading this all in a day is impressive...
Q. 인류의멸망: Would it smell less in Korea...?
A. Apparently, yes. The development of apocrine sweat glands, responsible for body odor, varies by ethnicity: Black 〉 White 〉 Asian, and about half of Koreans have no such glands genetically.