It had been nearly a month since Natarle Badgiruel left, and she had never expected to find herself aboard the Archangel again.
Only a month had passed, yet the ship felt as though it had changed tremendously.
She had certainly never imagined that the world itself could undergo such dramatic upheaval in so little time.
Orb's rise had brought the war between the Earth Alliance and ZAFT to a temporary halt. The two sides had even reached an unspoken understanding behind the scenes and launched that insane attack against Orb.
Now, the malignant tumor within the Earth Alliance had been almost completely removed through surgery. There should not be much trouble from that front anymore.
The only remaining problem lay with P.L.A.N.T.
"Captain Murrue Ramius, Ensign Natarle Badgiruel requesting permission to return aboard."
Natarle stood at attention and gave her closest friend a formal military salute.
"Welcome back aboard, Ensign Natarle Badgiruel."
Murrue answered with a gentle smile and extended her hand to the friend who had been gone for only a month, yet somehow felt as though she had been away for years.
With her return, Natarle would once again serve as executive officer and take responsibility for combat command, the field in which someone born into a military family like her excelled.
No one else aboard the Archangel was better suited for the position.
The Archangel would now carry Admiral Halberton's goodwill on a diplomatic visit to P.L.A.N.T.
Murrue and the other members of the Archangel's original Earth Alliance crew had also been formally reinstated in their former positions.
More accurately, the ship had already departed.
Before long, the Archangel left the region of space controlled by the Earth Alliance and entered the buffer zone between Alliance and P.L.A.N.T. territory.
"I'll leave the rest to you, Natarle."
"Understood. Go get some rest."
Natarle took over the next shift and would command the ship through the second half of the journey, while Murrue and some of the other crew members retired to rest.
Two hours passed before she knew it.
Wanting something to keep herself alert, Natarle went to make two cups of coffee.
When she returned to the bridge, she offered one of them to someone who had chosen not to rest and was instead reading a book.
"Here."
"Thank you."
"Is that a book about military affairs?"
Rather than returning immediately to the captain's station, Natarle stopped beside him and asked with mild curiosity.
She had made that assumption because the book's cover depicted a machine resembling some type of weapon.
It looked like equipment intended for ground warfare, a mechanical construct shaped somewhat like a spider. With that many legs, perhaps it had been designed to traverse a wider variety of terrain.
"It's not about the military. It's a novel."
"What?"
Natarle wondered if she had misheard him.
A novel?
The mysterious young man named Kain was the true catalyst behind nearly every major change that had taken place in this world over the past month.
And someone like him was sitting here reading a novel?
One of those fictional stories people wrote?
"Is it some kind of speculative military story?"
"No. It's just an ordinary novel."
So it truly was the kind of book people read simply to pass the time.
Natarle found that strangely disorienting. She had always seen Kain as a cold, quiet man who rarely spoke, so she had never imagined he might have such an ordinary hobby.
"Would you like to read it? It's a good way to pass the time."
His offer caught her by surprise.
"All right."
He handed her another volume, apparently the first book in the series.
The novel was titled 86: Eighty-Six.
Fortunately, Natarle had studied the written language of the East Asian Republic. The book was printed in Chinese characters, but reading it would not be particularly difficult for her.
She decided to see what kind of story it told.
Some unknown amount of time later, an unexpected sensation abruptly pulled Natarle back to reality.
Cold liquid was clinging to her hand.
She had become so absorbed in the novel that her remaining coffee had gone cold. Unable to contain her emotions after what she had just read, she had squeezed the paper cup so hard that she partially crushed it.
Because the bridge was in zero gravity, the liquid did not fall to the floor.
"I'm sorry."
She immediately apologized.
Coffee had been forced through the straw when she crushed the cup, and some of it had splashed across Kain's face.
Natarle quickly took out her handkerchief and offered it to him. However, moving closer brought her into contact with more of the floating coffee, staining and soaking her uniform.
At least her clothes had absorbed the droplets before they could scatter throughout the bridge.
"It's fine. Go clean yourself up. I can watch things here."
Natarle was about to object out of politeness, but stopped herself.
"Then I'll leave it to you."
His personality seemed much like hers. He was direct and straightforward, so there was no reason for them to waste time exchanging meaningless courtesies.
Natarle headed for the captain's briefing room.
There was a small private compartment inside it, complete with its own shower.
However, the moment she opened the compartment door, she froze at the sight of the bathroom beyond.
This was a warship, not a luxury liner.
What was the meaning of this bathroom?
Everything about it had clearly been designed for relaxation and enjoyment.
Murrue had told her that the Archangel had undergone several modifications. Its systems were now more intelligent and required fewer crew members to operate.
That naturally meant some space aboard the ship could be freed for other purposes. Natarle simply had not expected any of it to be spent on something like this.
Calling it a bathroom barely seemed appropriate. It looked more like a private hot spring.
She really needed to have a word with Murrue about this.
After removing her soaked clothes, Natarle planned to take a quick shower, change into a clean uniform, and return to the bridge immediately.
She had barely started washing herself when a noise caught her attention.
Natarle turned toward it and stared.
The hot spring bath had automatically filled itself with water, which had apparently already been heated to the proper temperature.
What was going on?
After checking the controls, she realized the room had been programmed to activate the hot spring bath automatically whenever someone entered.
Whoever had last used the room had failed to disable that function.
What a ridiculous waste.
"I'll soak for three minutes. That's all."
Using that as her excuse, Natarle decided to enjoy it briefly.
The bath had already been filled. If she did not use it, the water would merely be recirculated, filtered, and sterilized anyway.
The moment she lowered her entire body into the water, the perfectly balanced warmth began relaxing every muscle in her body.
No, one minute would be enough.
She would keep her word and not stay even a second longer.
As she watched the timer approach the one-minute mark, Natarle prepared to leave without hesitation.
However, a thought began whispering inside her mind that one more minute would not matter. Her own brain seemed determined to lull her into remaining in the bath.
She could not allow that.
Summoning considerable willpower, Natarle reached toward a switch on the artificial rock beside the bath. Pressing it should drain the water.
Click!
She had pressed it.
The warm water surrounding her shifted, seemingly about to drain away.
No, it was rising instead.
What was happening?
Had she pressed the wrong switch?
Natarle tried to reach for the button beside it, but the water suddenly surged upward and engulfed her.
No, that was not what had happened.
The water had not risen. She had begun to experience a bizarre form of drowning.
Natarle thrashed and tried to swim free, but her body could not escape the mass of water surrounding her.
The switch she had pressed had placed the room into zero gravity.
"Mmph!"
Bubbles escaped her mouth.
Natarle almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but there was nothing remotely funny about her situation.
Was this really how she was going to die?
Would she drown after allowing herself to enjoy a hot spring bath for one brief moment of indulgence?
She had survived a heroic battle only a day ago, yet now she was going to die because of something this ridiculous?
Natarle could hardly imagine what kind of expression Murrue would make upon discovering her body.
At first, Murrue might suspect that someone aboard the ship had secretly plotted to murder her.
Once the investigation uncovered the truth, however, she would probably be left utterly speechless.
As the oxygen in Natarle's lungs ran out, darkness gradually consumed her consciousness.
She was not ready to die.
She had no idea how much time passed before her consciousness, seemingly swallowed by that darkness, began to awaken again.
Natarle could feel herself.
She could still think.
That meant she was alive.
Breathing felt strange.
Something seemed to be pressed against her lips, and she could feel air flowing into her lungs from an unfamiliar source.
The memory of suffocating triggered an instinctive panic. The air was entering too slowly to satisfy her desperate lungs, so she inhaled with all her strength.
Whatever was pressed against her mouth was pulled even more firmly against her lips.
At the same time, her tongue seemed to brush against something.
(End of Chapter)
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