Chapter 4 - fair & foul: Part 1

P138-139

80 minutes

“I'm in the wrong place,” are the first words that come to mind. Normally this would be a place for people dressed to enjoy themselves. It was anything but suitable for there to be armed soldiers at the entrance of Palumpolum's most historical concert hall.

However, the days when it had been used for its original purpose were long in the past. Like how Palumpolum had changed from a commercial city into capital, this place had become the backbone of Cocoon and the present. The Edenhall, the house of the legislature that had been in Eden was literally uprooted and moved to this concert hall. And today was assembly day for the Congress. There was going to be more security than usual.

He called to the soldier before he could be flagged down by him. It wasn't anything confidential, but he found his voice lowered itself anyway. Out of everyone that was here, he was probably the most out of place.

“I've been summoned by Captain Rygdea.”

Practically speaking, while he had the authoritative powers of a general, Rygdea still retained his original rank. Now that PSICOM had been disbanded and there were deaths within the Guardian Corps, the inner workings of the army was in considerable disorder. He gathered that in this sort of situation, the fact that he made mention of his rank meant he was busy.

But, he had a feeling about what his true intentions were from the fact that he used the words “Captain Rygdea” at places where he didn't want to be noticed. The simple mention of General would attract the people's attention, but anyone would ignore Captain.

“What's your name?”

“Bartholomew Estheim”

He had been told that he would be understood if he just mentioned his name. He had doubts that it would pass with the soldiers guarding congress, but they very quickly told him of Rygdea's whereabouts.

But, he was taken aback to find out that he was in the instrument storage room. If there were meeting rooms of all sizes in this concert hall, then there had to be lounges too. Even if the waiting rooms with equipment for performers were being occupied by the various congresspeople, you wouldn't expect to suddenly be put in a storage room.

Though a place you would put instruments for safekeeping would have modest air conditioning, the soundproofing was probably not up to par. Would their conversations leak outside? Rygdea hadn't used the word “confidential” but it was clear that it was something along the lines of that.

“Am I worrying too much?” said Bartholomew with a slight smile. There was a “Being Serviced” placard hanging on the door of the storage room. He reconsidered after seeing that. There was no way he wouldn't take some measures to prevent word from getting out. He was a sharp guy in that sense.

Seventy minutes before the start of the assembly was the promise. There was five minutes until that time, but that could probably be forgiven. When he discreetly knocked on the door, it opened without a sound. The piled wooden boxes and crates acted as cover, so he couldn't see anything from the entrance. “Over here,” came Rygdea's voice from the back of the room.

P140-141

“It's like you're playing hide and seek, huh.”

You couldn't see from the entrance, but it was probably set up so that from where Rygdea was, you could tell who was where. The same could probably be said for who was outside the door or in the hallways.

“This is what you would call a secret base, right?”

Rygdea who was sitting on a small container as a makeshift chair smiled a pleasant smile and stood up. Before, at a time like this, there was no doubt his eyes would have been sparkling like a child's. He had that sort of a side. The him from the past, that is.

He had known Rygdea for less than a year. They met when the soldiers of the Cavalry rescued him after PSICOM had surrounded his home. Then while placed under their shelter, he participated in one of the Cavalry's platoons until PSICOM was disbanded.

“But there are security cameras aren't there? It's hard to call it a secret base if you can be spied on from the monitor room.”

In facilities where large numbers of people gather, cameras were set up everywhere as a counter-terrorist measure. Of course, for privacy purposes, cameras inside dressing and waiting rooms were switched off when they were in use. Conversely, it could be said that there were people inside rooms where cameras were switched off. It was considerate enough that they did that in dressing rooms and waiting rooms, but it would be much too unusual for them to go out of their way to turn off the storage room cameras.

“That's a fake over there. We don't have to be worried about being spied on.”

“A fake?”

“This.”

The wall where there should have been nothing unexpectedly lit up. At the same time, video of what appeared to be each of the rooms within the hall was projected there.

“All of the camera feed is forwarded to here.”

He understood what Rygdea meant by, “that's a fake.” ‘Harmless' rooms like the dressing rooms and lounges were being monitored as usual, but for rooms where trouble would arise if viewed by a third party, footage was swapped before being forwarded.

“Although, that isn't the main issue.”

With that, the wall darkened once again and the images disappeared. At first glance, you wouldn't think it could be used as a display.

“Let us reminisce of the past.”

He spoke in a dramatic way. But, he didn't laugh at all that day. He was probably trying to breach some important topic. They hadn't know each other long, but he knew that much.

“We believed in an illusion. We didn't see through the deception, and we didn't try to question the lies either. We just lived comfortably in our false paradise. You and I both.”

What was Rygdea trying to say? Certainly, up until half a year ago, the people of Cocoon lived in compliance with everything the fal'Cie said. Satisfied with the comfortable lives bestowed by the fal'Cie, since they didn't wish for anything they didn't try to imagine anything either. That is, until that day when the Pulse fal'Cie of Bodhum was discovered.

P142-143

It was that day. He would probably never forget the moment he heard the breaking news about Bodhum being sealed off. Whilst being so shocked that everything before his eyes threatened to go black, he hated himself for not knowing what would happen next. He had contact with important figures within the incompetent Sanctum and just knowing the way they thought gave him a bad feeling. That they would dispose of the people within the sealed area without hesitation.

Putting himself in their shoes, perhaps he might also have thought “If you think about the danger it poses to the whole of Cocoon, then we can't help sacrificing one area,” like it had nothing to do with him. As long as they're not involved themselves, people can be as indifferent as they like. Only, that time he was undeniably involved. His wife and son were candidates for the Purge.

“... The introduction is getting a bit long.”

He heard a “I have something I'd like you to see,” and came back to his senses. When the topic of the past comes up, it always reminds him of that day and his thoughts slip towards the day after tomorrow.

“These are some internal documents of the Sanctum.”

What Rygdea pulled out was an ID card held by every citizen of Cocoon. It was likely that the card not only held personal information, but also had records of medical examinations and prescriptions from medical facilities, as well as the function to conduct purchases and other service transactions. In addition, it could also store and play back short video and voice clips so it could act as a replacement for a notebook.

On top of that, identification codes were recorded in the data at the same time, so you could clearly tell who was who. Which is to say, records in an ID card could be used effectively as something like an official document and evidence. Perhaps, even though it was in the shape of an internal document, it was actually produced under the premise that it would be released to the public.

“Those records of the commotion, they were created by an interesting fella.”

“Interesting, meaning?”

“You should know him. He's Lieutenant Colonel Yaag Rosch. At the time, he acted as director for the part of PSICOM coordinating the l'Cie hunt.”

Hearing that they coordinated the l'Cie hunt immediately caused that face to appear before his eyes. Well, he had known his name from before, and heard people raving about how he was the most straight-laced member of PSICOM, or that if you were to put the words “stubborn as an ox” to a military uniform, it would be Colonel Rosch.

What on earth had he recorded? With a gulp, Bartholomew waited for a three-dimensional hologram to appear on the card.