Chapter 37: My Number Two
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{Marge, no. You may not touch the forbidden pressure cooker.}

Grey here. Marge is also here—with a crowbar. My blast door’s too strong for her, though.

“Come on~ Please~” she says, while violently attacking my blast door and only achieving some damage against the paint. “I totally know what I’m doing~”

{If you really knew, you’d be here with a radiation suit!}

“A rad-what? W-well, magic solves everything!”

{How can you even defend against something you don’t even know about!} Goddamnit, this girl. {Sigh. Captain, take her away.}

“Aye. Come along, ma’am.”

“Nooooo~ We won’t have enough power~”

No, really, I get what you wanna do. I get that it’s important, but try to think things through, okay? I don’t want you to get 99% of your remaining life span zapped in just a second of exposure.

***

Later in the Ops Room, Sam’s lecturing Marge about barging into strange places without her permission.

Marge, being the girl at heart she is, got left sniffling by the end of it. Sam refused to comfort her. It kinda hurts me seeing that, but she really needs to know that what she did was a really, really bad thing.

“I just … wanted to protect Grey.”

I know, I know…

“I need to know what’s in there!”

But it’ll kill you. None of us are gonna have that.

“It’ll take us a month to make enough resonance bombs to take down a single flying labyrinth, you know! How many are we gonna encounter from now on?!”

Ah… She’s started crying.

“Grey’s shield can’t even take more than a single hit from a dragon! We … I have to take risks!”

Sam slaps her. “What you took was not a risk. It was a certainty. You would have died. Am I correct, Sir Grey?”

{Y-yeah. The radiation sensors haven’t stopped being in the red ever since we left Las Vegas.}

They weren’t like that during the last fight. Some funky bullshit critical system decided to bug out not an hour after leaving Vegas, and the power started fluctuating. Good thing it was just an auxiliary, so I just had to shut off a few things to maintain stable flight.

“Aureos, does Sir Grey’s previous description of this ‘radiation’ match the descriptions of the Nevada Curse?”

“Yes, Princess.” Oreo was standing in the corner. “There are no immediate effects, but the afflicted person soon weakens and dies within one month—in rare cases, they will drop dead within seconds. For those who suffer longer before death, the surgeons state that the person’s internal organs sometimes become unsightly with nodules and growths. The only magics known to heal it completely are wielded by sanctioned necromancers.”

“Necromancers? … True, they also wield power over abnormal biologies as much as they do death… Where can we find one?” Sam asks.

“All of the ones who can cure the Nevada Curse are employed by hospitals in Washington,” Oreo answers.

So, basically, we need to end the war first before curing any radiation poisoning. All eyes turn to Marge.

“F-fine. I get it.”

She takes short steps towards the door, keeping her head bowed and her arms crossed, finally leaving the Ops Room.

Once she’d turned the corner, Sam told Oreo to close the door … Sam, are you sobbing?

She doesn’t apologize for ‘being unsightly’ like I’d expect. She doesn’t say anything at all. Oreo pushes his back against the door—without a dragon’s strength, I don’t think anyone could open it now.

Sam stays like that for a few minutes, and neither me nor Oreo say anything. I notice that Marge went back to her quarters, and she’s locked herself in. I’ll make sure someone brings her a light dinner later.

“Sir Grey,” Sam speaks up. Her voice is still wavering.

{Yeah?}

“Reckless she may have been today, we must still find a way to repair—no, augment your power source.”

She stands up and makes for the door. Oreo steps aside and opens it for her.

“There is more than one way to lose her,” she says, before stepping out. The face she wears when she does is unlike any I’ve ever seen. Anyone who encounters her on the way gets robbed of their voices. She’s not walking around like a princess, anymore.

Sam, you’re one of my first friends here. Don’t lose yourself so quickly.

Sam’s dad, I hope you make some sort of mistake that makes this war move on faster.

***

It’s the next morning. I’ve lowered the output on the engines so Marge’s engineering department can get extra power for some of their nuke production and R&D on radiation containment.

The fact that the mages are practically sticking forks into the magic adaptors on my wall sockets to recharge themselves is kinda funny and concerning at the same time. I mean, I’m constantly dumping several MW of power into human beings who seem to be getting a high off of it. What should I feel about this? I don’t know, man, I don’t know.

Even with the amount of power they’re using, we’re not in danger of falling from the air from it, but I’m practically pointing my engines straight down at this point. 5 knots is pretty chill, not gonna lie.

Thankfully, there’s a hundred layers of protection on my reactors, so there’s no rush on that front. Not even blowing up a block of C4 right on top of the core would make it go into meltdown.

Marge has locked herself in her research lab, and her assistant’s the only one allowed in or out. For some reason, even Sam’s not allowed to see her, but I guess she’s a double mix of upset and apologetic about things.

I mean, she’s even sabotaged my speakers in the lab, so even I can’t talk to her. My mics and one camera are still active, though. She probably left them alone in case there was an emergency I needed to know about.

In any case, at least her assistant’s taking care of her, which is sort of a step up from when she’d be totally inaccessible if she put her mind to an idea. I still remember that time when I tried to send in a SWAT team to drag her out, but even that didn’t work. The girl’s fortifications are just ridiculous.

“Sir Grey, is Marge doing well?”

{She’s distracted doing work. Does that count?}

“It will have to…”

Sam’s just completely worried right now. She’s been holding meetings with several commanders and tacticians about the best way to not die if we bump into another killer starbase. If she’s not holding meetings and being a princess, she’s pacing up and down the flight deck while carrying Oreo on her back as some weird form of stress relief.

Heh, starbases… Honestly, I’m running out of synonyms and pop culture references for those things. If I had my way, I’d be calling them fuck-off forts, but that wouldn’t sound good on the record.

In other news, I think Sam’s troubles are rubbing off on her subordinates. They’re on-and-off worried that she’s not in the right mind, but judging from how she is during a meeting and outside of it, she’s pretty good at drawing a line between her feelings as a princess and as a friend.

Overall, I think I’m more worried about Marge, honestly… She’s a little more emotionally-charged and impulse-driven. It’s kinda a wonder how she gets completely drawn into her work, really.

***

Ehe… Ehehe…

“S-señorita?!”

Ehehe. It’s okay, Sophia. I’ve—I’ve figured it out.

The floor’s looking kinda nice right now, though. Let me just … take a nap…

“Señorita!—”

***

H-hmm? This isn’t the lab? Why is it so soft… This is a bed?

“Señorita?”

“Sophia?”

I turn over and she’s there. This looks like my room in the officers quarters.

“How did I…”

“You collapsed so suddenly! We were so worried about you, you know?”

“I did?” That’s never happened before… Okay, maybe a few times, but I even made sure to stay hydrated and eat three meals a day this time!

“Yes! You continued ignoring me about sleep, saying some incomprehensible thing like ‘Sleep is for the weak’—but it has weakened you to this point!”

O-oh, right, I didn’t sleep for three days…

Well, what can I do? Once I get an idea, I won’t stop until I get a working prototype! … but I guess I pushed it too far this time, huh? Normally, it’d take me one or two days to pump out a prototype, but the project scale this time is just way too big.

“You have been asleep for 15 hours!”

“H-huh?!” That’s not good!

I shoot straight out of my bed and start changing out of my lab overalls and—oh Freedom-lovin’-tarnation, I stink pretty bad.

After I take a shower for a bit and get dressed up properly, Sophia smacks me in the head with a water bottle.

“You haven’t drank anything for 15 hours! Change that immediately!”

Okay, mom~

By the way, the officers quarters here are pretty luxurious, I gotta say. Private showers are amazing to see on a military ship, even if I’m constantly hitting my elbows on the walls.

The moment I unlock my hunking steel door and step out, the first thing I see is a beggar sleeping right by the wall of my room.

“Wait—bestie?!” You’re a princess! Don’t sleep on the floor!

Her eyes shoot open like some sort of predator—and I’m the prey. She’s locked onto me!

“L-look, I’m sorry! I’ll take better care next t—”

I’m in her grasp! A-ah, wait, this is a hug… Bestie initiated the hug?! She even used that absurd physical ability of hers to move faster than my eyes could track!

We stay like that for a few seconds. I-I think I could get used to this.

I wrap my arms around her too.

This isn’t a few seconds at all. Can’t say I don’t like it, though.

After what seems like a full minute, she finally pulls away.

“W-what was that—”

“My apologies.”

Huhh. “So now you get all princess-y with me, huh?”

“Marge, please excuse the fact that I can only afford three minutes of vulnerability per week. We both have our duties to fulfill, and I only request that you fulfill yours with care.”

What a weird way of saying “Take care of yourself better.”

Well—I smile, anyway. “But it wasn’t for nothing! I’ve figured out stuff!”

“This is a royal order. Don’t do it again.”

Ah—ehh? I thought we were having a touching reunion? D-don’t give me that stern look~

“The only good discoveries are ones where we don’t lose you in the process.”

… She says that with a straight face, but the look on her eyes is kinda…

“I… I get it.” I really can’t look her in the face. “This’ll be the last. I promise.”

“Very good. Kirukiru-sensei’s shift has not yet passed. Run if you don’t want to miss him.”

She leaves as she says that. Come to think of it, what time is it? My watch says … it’s already late afternoon! I really passed out too hard this time, the heck.

{Marge?}

Oh. “Heyy, Greyster~” I wave at the nearest camera. “I’m doing fine, thanks~”

{I didn’t even say anything yet, geez. Well, anyway, that’s good to hear, and it’s good to see you up. Since you’re going to the mess hall, just don’t be surprised about that Kirukiru guy. He sort of evolved.}

“Hahaha, what~”

{Looks like he ate some magic meat or some shit like that in the last fight. He’s got, like, four arms, now. Probably isn’t even human, anymore, really.}

“Ri~ght… Catch ya later!”

I say that, but Grey’s the whole ship, so it’s more like we’re infinitely catching each other every passing second.

“Señorita?” “Let’s go!~”

After I swing by the mess hall with Sophia and embarrass myself by pulling some experimental weaponry on Mr. Kirukiru—he was surprisingly understanding about it, by the way—we go back to the lab to get my notes and I head straight for the Ops Room.

I asked Sophia if she wanted to come with, but she said she’s staying in the lab to tidy up a bit. Thanks, mom~

When I get to the Ops Room, I see a weird thing: Major Billison and the Emperor of Japan playing chess against each other.

Fuh. You are a good one. I can feel the fighting spirit of a general who understands the balance of caring for one’s men and unashamedly sacrificing them for victory. Half of your pawns are gone, and yet, so are half of my officers.”

“I gotta say, before I met y’all and the princess, I thought royalty’s and nobles’s all about staying at the back and lookin’ good. Who’d’ve thought you’d put the King and Queen right in the middle? They’s darned eatin’ up everything I throw at ’em.”

Somehow, I feel like there’s a second conversation going on here…

“So how about it, Billison-kun? Will you not whip my subordinates into the same fierce, independent warriors of the sky that you have?”

Whuh! Is this one of the fabled gentleman’s conversations over a chess game?!

“And how’re ya gonna make it worth my while?”

Whohh, they’re doing it! They’re practically reading off a script!

“An army must forge pawns of iron and knights of magicitic steel—is a familiar saying in Japan.”

“Yer point?”

Emperor Hiiro knocks down a piece! The speech and the game are heating up!

“You lack any of magicitic steel, Billison-kun.”

Woohhhohoho, Major Billison’s body language is stuttering! He took a hit!

“… I di’n’t think someone’d say it out loud for me.”

The Emperor chuckled. “Magicitic steel is simply hot iron quenched in carbon and magic. In short, it can be made.”

“… I’m listenin’.”

“Your men are weak in magic, but that is not a true limit. You know of my prowess with the sword, no? What if I told you—very little magic is needed to achieve such power.”

“So yer sayin’, even One-Armed Tod’s shitty magic that can’t even light a campfire, can let ’im shoot through a foot-thick of steel?”

“That’s how it is.”

Major Billison stares at the chess board for a bit, moving a piece.

“… Interesting move.”

I skip over and bring my face just an inch from the edge of the chess board and—oh my god, it’s a stalemate.

Wait, wait! Following their conversation just now, it looks like Major Billison moved a pawn to the end of the board and he turned it into a knight, which, thanks to its weird-ass L-shaped movement and attack rules, managed to cut off the last possible retreat of the Emperor’s king!

“… A’ight, I’ll take ya up on that.”

Wohhh.

“Have a nice day.” He stands up. “Emperor sir, ma’am.”

He even did the hat tip thingy wohhh. Once he’s gone, it’s just me peeking from the edge of the chess board and the Emperor still seated.

“Then—Marge-dono, what brings your curiosity here? Ah! Might it be, you also want to play a round of chess with me?”

“N-nope!” I actually hate playing chess, but watching it? Totally fine! “I’m here on official business!”

I’ve got my hands on my hips and I’m standing straight. Yeah! I’m gonna be responsible for the next 3 hours!

“Greyster! Hear me out!”

{Thou seek an audience with me? Interesting…}

“Greyster! What the heck are you saying!”

{Nothing. Just wanted to try that at some point.}

My progress is pretty good, if I say so, myself.

I managed to figure out what this “radiation” stuff Grey’s always been talking about actually is. He said some stuff about “electromagnetic waves,” which I vaguely recalled seeing in a history textbook. Some digging later, and I found out about the Electromagnetic Theory of—something, but it sounded like that!

For a pretty old theory, it amazingly still works. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it taught in school, though, and not even in the Royal College I went to with Sam, but after digging through a few brochures and catalogs, only a few universities even have a course on it, and even fewer have a department that deals with ancient sciences.

To be fair, most of the stuff the ancient sciences dealt with could be magicked away by a half-decent, fully-licensed engineer nowadays, so it’s not really important to bring them back into the education system. Heck, education here is already falling apart as it is, so cramming in more stuff ain’t a good idea, I think.

Anyway, all I had to do was retune a light-blocking spell to the dangerous wavelengths. Nothing big. The light-blocking spell itself only blocks out a narrow band of wavelengths, so if I wanted to block out absolutely everything, I’d need to stack a pretty big number of them.

For testing, I tuned a flashlight spell to emit different wavelengths. Grey says that I’d basically turned the flashlight spell into a death ray spell when I did that. I’m not sure how to feel about that.

I first started with microwaves, coz he said a bunch of metal sheets or foils could reflect it. Aside from feeling prickly hot when hit by it, he said it’s nothing as dangerous as X-rays or Gamma rays, so I did all my testing with it. He wasn’t kidding when he said it felt prickly hot—I don’t want to feel that again.

In short, I invented the world’s re-first microwave oven! Apparently the ancients used to have them quite commonly, so I can’t really say that I made them first, but hey! We have them again!

So anyway, I just pointed a microwave beam at a microwave-blocking spell to see if it worked—which it did, coz I’m a genius. I could tell it worked coz the blocking spell’s mana usage shoots up when it does any blocking—a fact which later led me to finaggling the spell into a radiation detector, which was fun.

Eventually, I moved up to testing with X-rays and Gamma rays. Grey told me to remotely do all the testing and keep it all confined in a lead box. I mean, okay, I’ve used spellcasting proxies before, but for the box, we didn’t really know how thick to make it, so the thing ended up weighing 200 lbs.

One thing I discovered is that it takes a lot more energy to block the nasty wavelengths. After some more textbook digging—thanks, Sam, for buying all these for me from Vegas!—I discovered that the shorter the wavelength, the higher the energy of an EM wave. Gamma and X-rays are the shortest wavelengths out there, so who knew?

What I couldn’t figure out was why radiation destroyed a human body. I’m no medical specialist, though, so I’m kinda disappointed that I won’t be figuring this part of the puzzle out anytime soon.

Well, as long as I can get a full-body radiation protection spell going, it’ll all be fine!

{Then what?}

“Then I’ll magic up your power source!” We really need the additional power, both for making more resonance bombs and for improving our defenses.

{Sigh. You don’t even know how nuclear reactors work…}

“… That’s why I need to get in there and check it out!”

{… We’re back on this topic, huh?}

It’s gonna be a long day~

Announcement
(2022-11-11) I've decided to pay more attention to my other story, Platonic Harem Isekai, seeing that I've lost touch with how this one was supposed to go. Updates will de-escalate to once a week.

Seeing that I don't care much about doing fancy plots anymore, chapters after Ch41 (up to which I'm already done writing) will radiate big fuck-it energy, as it should. Maybe the aforementioned fuck-it energy was supposed to be at the heart of the story all along, and I've only now realized it.

This ain't the worst story I've written, but at least, I want it to be the first one that properly reaches a conclusion. See y'all on-deck—or some sign-off like that lmao.

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