God’s Child Chapters 51-54
Chapter 51
See the original post here
Silence reigned over the room. But then the child spoke.
“Captain, if you stay silent, the conversation won’t progress. Isn’t that right, Your Excellency?”
The Child looked at Colonel Garalyan. He said not a word.
“No words from you either, Your Excellency? Hahahaha!”
The Child’s gaze returned to Captain Jumolan.
“That’s what this banquet is for, isn’t it, Captain?”
“Well, it’s…”
“Please say what you want without reservation. Everyone wants to hear it, and so do I. Don’t worry, it isn’t a problem, Captain. Come on.”
Urged by the Child, the captain made up his mind. “I want you to prove who is the strongest.”
“You mean, the A.T.?”
“No matter how good the machine is, the results will vary depending on the operator. The strongest A.T. is proven by the best pilot.”
“So?”
“Mettalia, I want you to prove it with your own hands.”
“You want me to ride it, huh? Okay. I want to prove that I’m the strongest too. But it’s meaningless if the opponent isn’t strong as well. As you know, I can do quite well even in a normal A.T. You should know that, as you witnessed the battle with the Rose of the Twin Swords.”
“Of course! Proof of the strongest can only be achieved by battling the strongest opponent!”
“And who is it?” the Child asked. “Who is that opponent?”
The captain took a deep breath and exhaled the name in one go. “It’s him! Chirico Cuvie!!”
The party roared, and all eyes turned to the figure the captain was pointing at.
– Chirico? Chirico Cuvie!?
– Him?
– He’s going to be Mettalia’s opponent?!
– But he’s Mettalia’s foster parent!
– Are they going to fight as father and son?
“Hahahaha, you’ve finally told me your true feelings,” the Child laughed. “This banquet was supposed to bring conversation to that point. Thank you for your hard work, Captain. But there’s another, deeper aim. I want to know if I’m truly Wiseman’s successor. Isn’t that right, Your Excellency?”
The Child looked at Colonel Garalyan again.
“Hmm…”
The colonel, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke.
“This banquet was meant to be a welcoming and friendly event for all of you, but I’m surprised that the conversation has taken an unexpected turn. However…”
“But you’re being ridiculous!” Vanilla roared, banging on the table. “What are you talking about? Making Chirico and the Child fight? It’s ridiculous! There’s no way that’s going to happen!”
Coconna also raised her voice. “Yes, yes! Why should two people who are like father and son have to fight each other?”
Then the man in the black robes stood up; Dr. Rochina. “No, that’s a good suggestion. Is the Child really the divine successor of Wiseman? This is not just a question for Colonel Garalyan, the representative of the Tavtablay Nipni Nation. It is safe to say that it is now the primary concern of all the powerful people in the Astragius Galaxy. We want the answer. We want it urgently.”
“Hmph. Just the sort of logic one expects from those obsessed with power,” Goto retorted. “We don’t care to know anything about that.”
Dr. Rochina said, “A withered old man like you has no interest in the state of the world.”
“What?”
“Bark all you like, your opinion is irrelevant. Because neither the Child nor Chirico seem to have any objections to fighting.”
Rochina looked back and forth between the Child and Chirico. An invisible force was leading them toward a fight. Neither of them spoke, just staring at each other.
“If, if, if they were to fight, what kind of fight would it be? I mean, would it be with live ammunition? Well, I mean, what I want to ask is…”
The one who spoke ambiguously was Major Dadot Kromzender. Captain Dromzen Pasdard answered in a frustrated voice.
“It’s obviously going to be a real fight, Major.”
“So, if, if the Child loses, we’ll have to take his body to Melkia. Then…” Major Kromzender trailed off.
“You’re saying I’ll have still fulfilled my duty, correct? I just need to carry out the transport. Alive or dead doesn’t matter.”
“What do you mean, Captain? It’s just—”
“Shut up!” Dr. Rochina interrupted. “Please refrain from pointless discussion at this point.”
Major Kromzender looked flustered. “Pointless discussion? What about you?”
“I said, Shut up! The reason the military leadership wanted to secure the Child in the first place was to find out if he was the real successor to God. And if he is defeated by Chirico and rendered into a corpse, that will be the answer. There’s no point in transporting him.”
“What are you saying!?”
“Major, I’m not going to repeat myself. I’m here on the orders of Byrne.”
“Byrne?!” Captain Pasdard and Major Kromzender exclaimed in surprise at the same time.
“No matter how things turn out, I will make sure that you two are not held liable. So no more interference or meddling! Understand?”
The two of them closed their mouths. That was how much the Byrne consortium was feared on Melkia.
Chapter 52
See the original post here
Dr. Rochina looked around at the silent banquet.
“It seems that you two are in agreement. Now, anything else…?”
“I wonder if this is a problem…” someone muttered, as if asking himself a question. Dr. Rochina did not miss it.
“Professor Bob, if you have any opinions, speak now. Say whatever you must.”
“Well… it may not be a big deal, but Lu’s, no, the Child’s A.T. is the best machine, as he himself said after tuning it up. I wonder what Chirico’s machine will be like. Whether there can be a comparable one. Whether the same conditions of the best machine and the best pilot will be met. I’ve heard that the A.T.s in this country are for security purposes. Pardon me, I’m the type who obsesses on small details…”
“Hmph! The merits and demerits of machines are not the issue at this point…”
But before Dr. Rochina could continue…
“We have an A.T.,” a voice said. It was Saltio. “I don’t know if it can hold its own against the Child’s machine, but it’s the best A.T. I’ve ever made.”
“What are you saying, Salty? Damn it,” Vanilla cried out.
“Dad, didn’t you tell me to prepare it? Something like this might happen. Isn’t this exactly what we’re talking about here? You’re the one who told me to prepare that machine that destroyed the Black Lightning Brigade in Gulphe! For him!”
Saltio’s gaze was fixed on Chirico. Everything was heading toward a showdown between Chirico and Lu. After a few moments of concentrated gazes, tension, and time standing still, Chirico stood up and wiped his mouth with the napkin he was holding, then threw the white cloth on the table. “I’m in.”
“Chirico–!!” Vanilla, Coconna, and Goto surrounded him, letting out screams.
“Just say you won’t do it!”
“Yeah! No way!”
“You can’t fall for such an obvious trap! Stop it, Chirico!”
He answered the three of them in the even-toned voice they were so used to hearing.
“It’s not anyone’s fault. I brought this upon myself. Isn’t that right, Lu?”
The Child smiled instead of replying.
“But there’s one condition.” Chirico shifted his gaze to Colonel Garalyan.
“Huh? Me? Please tell me, anything I can do to help.”
“Lend me your military spaceport. There must be no complications in this battle.”
“Complications?”
“I want a perfect battlefield without obstacles or barriers, where luck or misfortune cannot intervene.”
“I see, the 4,000 meter runway at the spaceport is a perfect battlefield. Neither side can run or hide.”
“I don’t want to waste any time. The game begins now.”
Amid the murmurs, the Child only returned a silent smile.
The two A.T.s facing each other looked identical to everyone, like twins. Of course, there were subtle differences in the details. But both were Gilgameth’s ATM-09-STs, commonly known as Scopedogs.
They were each armed wiith a shoulder missile gunpod on their right shoulder, an SSM missile launcher on their right hip, a smoke discharger on their left shoulder, a gatling cannon on their lower left hip, a fixed solid shooter on their left arm, and a handheld heavy machine gun in their right hand. All of these weapons were controlled by a mission pack on their backs, which was also identical.
“What’s that!?”
Anyone who has been involved in the military had heard of it before, or it had been imprinted on their minds as knowledge or rumor.
“Red Shoulder Custom!!”
Back in the Hundred Years’ War, the mad god of war Yoran Pailsen dreamed of creating an invincible army. “Special Forces Unit X-1 of the 24th Melkian Army’s Strategic Armored Corps.” They were known as the Bloodsucker Corps, and it was believed that they consumed the flesh and blood of their enemies.
This was the standard armament of those Iron Devils, who were said to even gnaw on the bones of their allies to complete their mission.
Vanilla glanced back at his son. “Salty, you did a great job finishing that machine.”
“The battle with the Lightning Brigade in Gulphe is burned into my memory.”
“And when we smashed through the hordes of security police in Woodo. I used my old skills to help finish it up, Salty.”
Goto’s nose twitched with pride. “You did something unnecessary.”
Coconna’s voice, husky with anxiety, blamed the two of them. “That’s right. If Salty and Dad hadn’t done something unnecessary, Chirico might not have been so interested.”
“No, this was all planned from the beginning,” Goto insisted. “It was Wiseman who planned it from the moment the two of them jumped out of Nurgerant in that light! The god of evil had us and Chirico at his mercy. Dammit!”
Vanilla and Coconna had no words to respond to his grievance, and could only look anxiously into the distance. Whether they spoke or not, everyone knew where it had begun.
The two A.T.s facing each other took a few steps closer, then passed each other, then engaged their roller dash to put some distance between them. At almost 2,000 meters, the two units were ready for battle.
Chapter 53
See the original post here
Two A.T.s faced each other on a horizontal concrete slab with nothing as far as the eye could see.
Those who gazed upon them tried to predict their own future in this battle.
For example, (Is there anything better for me!?)
Colonel Garalyan, the dictator who could not draw the line at the limits of his desires, his talents, his luck, hoped for something beyond the predictable in the outcome between these two, and the unknown events that would follow.
(Who will win!? Chirico or the Child?)
Captain Pasdard thought about his mission. Regardless of the outcome, the transport mission must be carried out. However, even after the fact, he didn’t think either of them would obediently follow the rules. What would he do then?
(What if the Child is defeated!?)
Would he have to transport the body? In that case, would his mission be considered accomplished?
(Hurry! Hurry! Show me the answer!)
Major Kromzender’s mind was in turmoil. He only had a vague idea of his role up to this point. He was aware that he had performed his role adequately. But what would happen from here on out? What was his role? What would happen next?
Captain Jumolan was impatient, wanting to see what would happen next, no matter what it was.
And then, “Can you hear me, Lu?”
Chirico called out to The Child.
A short but clear voice answered. “Yes.”
“Let’s go.”
“Yes!”
That was their entire exchange. A moment later, their gliding wheels screeched.
A mutter escaped from the mouth of the man who was once Wiseman’s eyes and ears. “It’s begun. I’ll see it through, Chirico!”
Their starting distance was 2,000 meters. There was some difference in the weight of the two machines, including weapons and ammunition, but if they approached each other at the fastest speed, they would come into contact and crash in just over 40 seconds.
As they rocketed forward, a torrent of bullets flowed from the equipment on the Child’s machine. His missiles concentrated on Chirico like the twisted, fiery shells of a gatling gun.
“Ahhhh!!” A scream burst from everyone’s lungs.
“A hit!”
It was predicted that the bullets would hit, explode, and scatter.
But!?
The bullets, both large and small, flowed by as if they were piercing a machine with no substance whatsoever.
“Is that machine an illusion?”
That’s what everyone thought, but the truth was extremely simple. Chirico was swaying slightly from side to side, avoiding direct hits with a narrow margin of error. It was truly a miracle. There was a seed that made that trajectory possible.
“He hasn’t fired a single shot!”
That was right, Chirico hadn’t fired one round since the battle began. In fact, he couldn’t, because he wasn’t carrying any bullets. His machine was close to its basic standby weight, so it was lighter and had improved running performance.
“Salty!” Vanilla gasped and grabbed her son by the collar. “It’s not loaded!!”
“Well, that’s what he wanted.”
It was understandable that Vanilla thought Chirico was sacrificing himself, but, “Damn, that was Chirico’s intention from the beginning!”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Goto shouted. “Look!” He pointed at two machines. “It’s hand-to-hand combat!!”
A cheer rose up. The distance between the two was already such that firearms were no longer needed. From both machines, sparks erupted that seemed to be an expression of murderous intent, and weapons were ejected from their shoulders and waists.
A.T.s were an extension of infantry. In other words, the basic idea was that they were a human body with added mobility. That was also Chirico’s perception. But the Child didn’t have that concept. Furthermore, the Child’s short life experience had given him no idea how to sue the human body as a tool for fighting. The difference between the two was apparent in their stances.
“What is he…!?”
Vanilla’s thought was the same as everyone else’s. There was something about Chirico’s stance that expressed the essence of battle. In contrast, The Child’s machine was merely a structure that imitated the human body, standing upright. The terms “experienced” and “battle-hardened” were both in Chirico’s favor.
“Dad, it is Chirico after all. He’s always one step ahead, pulling his opponent into his arena.”
“Yeah.”
The battle began as most had predicted. It was hand-to-hand. The gliding wheels of both machines scraped the pavement under their feet, and their iron arms and legs collided with each other, releasing metallic impact sounds.
“Look, it’s like a boxer and a sandbag!”
As Vanilla said, Chirico’s machine was moving like a wild beast. It was bending and striking to a degree that defied belief that it was made of iron. The Child’s thin armor was being torn apart by arm punches, and the situation was clear to everyone.
“Hey, how many punches is the limit?”
As if to answer Vanilla’s question, the explosive sounds disappeared from both fists of Chirico’s machine.
“That’s right,” Goto said, “he didn’t fire a single shot!”
Unlike the initial firefight, the Child was now on the defensive. It was later learned that the Child’s machine was not bound by the movement or appearance of the human body, but moved as a machine. It maintained mobility superior to the opponent with minimal movement, by combining rotations and straight lines. Of course, the Child’s ideas and calculations were encoded into his mission disc.
The Child’s counterattack began. There is nothing more fragile than a defense without offensive power. The attack hit a key point and instantly took away Chirico’s maneuverability. Unable to bear it, the A.T. dropped to one knee, barely able to support the tilting body with one hand.
The Child’s hands both grabbed the remaining outstretched hand. At the same time, cartridges flew from both arms, drawing thin plumes of smoke. The arm of Chirico’s A.T. had been mercilessly torn off from the shoulder. A sideways slash across the A.T.’s face tore off its triple scope.
“Ahhhh!” An unexpected scream announced the end of the battle.
“Finish him off! Finish him off!” Someone somewhere was shouting.
As if in response, both of the Child’s hands reached out and grabbed Chirico’s head, and at the same time, cartridges once again scattered to the left and right, sending up a puff of smoke. The cockpit cover was torn off, creaking.
“Dammit! Is this what we were raising him for?”
“Chirico!”
Goto grabbed Coconna’s shoulder as she tried to run away, stopping her.
“Coconna…”
And then,
“Huh…!?”
The Child’s machine, holding up the cockpit cover, stopped moving. After a beat, the cockpit cover slipped out of his hands, bounced off one knee, and crashed to a stop on the runway.
Vanilla let out a high-pitched voice. “Ah, ah, ah, armor magnum!”
A shape rose from the exposed seat of his machine, which had been knocked down, forced to one knee, had its arm torn off, and had its cockpit cover ripped away. In his hand was an armor magnum, the ultimate weapon of an A.T. pilot.
The curtain fell on the first act. Smoke dischargers released white clouds all over the area, obscuring the view.
Chapter 54
See the original post here
“Is that why you chose that place?”
“Yeah, I thought it would be easier to escape.”
Vanilla, Coconna, Goto, and Chirico stood together on the bridge of the ship that had left the gravitational field of planet Glasseus. After the fight, they had jumped onto Vanilla’s company ship, which was parked nearby. Of course, the Child was with them.
“What was the meaning of that battle? Weren’t you two always friends?”
Vanilla looked at the Child’s back as he steered the ship with Salty. The two of them joined forces to get through the swarm of floater belts blocking their way.
Chirico’s answer was curt, and then it was over. “I don’t know.”
There were others who looked back on each moment, still searching for answers when they were left behind.
“Your Excellency, how did it end?” Captain Jumolan asked. “Was it Chirico who won? Or was it Mettalia…?”
Colonel Garalyan looked at him gloomily, shaking his glass of Ganaha.
“Chirico’s Magnum was not going to miss at that distance, so you could say that Chirico won. But if Mettalia had landed an arm punch on the cockpit before that, it would have been decided. So…”
“So that fight was a friendly one after all.”
“No, if either of them had been hit even once, they would have died. I don’t think they were holding back, either.”
“So then?”
“Captain, that’s enough now. In any case, neither the Son of God nor Mettalia are on this planet anymore. There’s no need to worry about it. I’ve made up my mind. There are still plenty of things that need to be done here. Please help me rebuild this country.”
Colonel Garalyan’s expression was no longer that of a soldier, but had changed to that of a politician, cunning and bold.
“Yes, sir…”
“Hmph, don’t be so disappointed. If you get the chance, you can always stab me in the back. But until then, help me.”
With that, the colonel shoved a glass Ganaha down his throat.
The argument was heated inside the landing craft as it returned to its mothership.
“In the first place, we should never have allowed that fight to happen, Captain Pasdard! If there hadn’t been a fight, we could have returned to Melkia with the two of them unharmed. You and I could have both completed our missions!”
“You could have objected at any time. You never said you were against that fight. I don’t recall hearing that!”
“But! But Captain!”
“But? I sincerely hope that you’ll say something reasonable next, Major!”
“Uh, you certainly wanted the two of them to fight, and you wanted to see the outcome! That’s an indisputable fact!”
“So did you!”
“But—”
The man in black robes slammed down his hand.
“Shut up! This is unseemly!” Dr. Rochina yelled at them. “I’ll guarantee your meager status and ranks, so shut up already.”
Dr. Rochina used Byrne’s authority as a shield to forcibly ride with them to Melkia. But the feelings he had in his heart, including the report to Byrne, continued to smolder uncomfortably.
(Chirico…once again…)
And he could only groan.
“Lu and I have been left behind.” Professor Bob muttered, looking at the red sky and red ground. It was Sunsa, the burned planet.
“He didn’t even say goodbye?” The old woman asked. Her name was Zophie.
“Not a word…”
“That’s the kind of guy he is.”
The two were on the terrace of a shabby but well-built cottage. Ahead of them were a boy and a girl. The girl’s name was Juno. The boy’s name was Lu. Their lively voices carried on the wind.
The old woman’s eyes seemed blind. “I can’t see him, but he seems to have grown into a good boy.”
“So Chirico kept his promise.”
“Hmm?”
“With Wiseman.”
“Yeah, feed him, teach him, and make him grow up, you know. But what did Chirico teach Lu?”
Professor Bob was remembering all that had happened up until now.
“I’ll help you, Juno,” Lu said.
“Huh?”
“You and Zophie want to bring the blue sky back to this planet, right?”
“Yeah!”
“You can do it, I’m sure you can! I’ll help you, too!”
The girl’s eyes sparkled with surprise and joy.
“It looks like we’ll be staying here for a while,” Professor Bob muttered as he watched them.
“Just stay until you get bored. Maybe one day he’ll come back.”
THE END
In lieu of an afterword
Ryusuke Takahashi in conversation, translated from the end of the paperback novel
Yatate: You’re still alive, aren’t you?
Takahashi: It’s been a while, but hello.
Yatate: Hahaha, so what, you’re publishing a book?
Takahashi: I had some things left to do.
Yatate: Didn’t you always have a policy of not doing homework?
Takahashi: At school, yes. Not when it comes to work.
Yatate: It’s probably because someone nagged you.
Takahashi: That’s not far off. Our work is first and foremost about the customers, and secondly about the help of the staff, and both of them often ask me, “What’s going on with that?”
Yatate: You finally got up the courage to do it.
(It’s normal for him to throw a jab at me as soon as we meet.)
Yatate: But what the hell, forty years!?
Takahashi: That’s because it aired in 1983. After the previous work (Fang of the Sun Dougram) ended, I was thinking of making a complete change and doing something gag-like, but then you said, “Let’s do another serious one,” and you also gave me the condition, “This time, write a plot for all the episodes.” When I tried it, it surprisingly fit the core of who I am as a person, and that’s how I’ve been ever since. It’s been a long 40-year track.
Yatate: Hahahaha, that’s good!
(Yatate looks off into the distance as he laughs candidly.)
Yatate: Those were good times.
Takahashi: Yeah… those were good times. Back then in the 1980s, we used to call them “original works.” There was definitely a time when projects that weren’t based on novels or manga were picked up and highly anticipated.
Yatate: If it weren’t for that time, this series would never have seen the light of day.
Takahashi: Yeah, absolutely! We were lucky.
Yatate: It wasn’t just luck, but we were lucky as well.
(Our voices said in sync: “It’s all thanks to Osamu Tezuka!” We looked at each other and laughed.)
Yatate: That teacher made us struggle, but he also gave us a lot.
Takahashi: Half of our bodies came from our parents, and the other half was made by Tezuka-sensei.
Yatate: Yeah.
Takahashi: He didn’t teach us anything step by step, but he gave us chances. He always showed us a willingness to work together when we were inexperienced and worried about something and tried to ask for help.
Yatate: “You’re a creator too!”
Takahashi: And you’re just like me! We were told, “You can’t be the same!”
Yatate: Hahahaha, I wonder what that means.
Takahashi: I also wonder what he meant by that. But no matter what, I made something up and brought it to them and they accepted it. That one line, “You’re a creator too,” still supports us to this day.
Yatate: And now you’ve even published a book like this.
Takahashi: I can’t thank you enough. Speaking of gratitude, I always put my hands together for the staff who helped me make this anime.
Yatate: Really?
Takahashi: Really! And my friends who took a chance on me. This time I was especially indebted to Tomoko Uchida.
Yatate: I bet you kept them waiting for the manuscript again.
Takahashi: Hahaha, not so much.
Yatate: Oh, you’ve straightened out.
Takahashi: I’m writing this bit last, but I’m grateful to Kadokawa editors Tsuyoshi Ishiwaki, Tomomi Umezu, and Toyoaki Matsuzaka for their guidance on my manuscript and Mr. Taniguchi’s illustrations. Thank you very much.
Yatate: Isn’t that great?
Takahashi: Yep.
(So today I’m having a celebratory drink with Yatate.)