Three weeks later, their unit was still entrenched at Ajanum. The Kolsivites had not attempted another attack on the city or any of its neighbors, nor had the Meihonese undertaken any major offensives. The entire Front, from the northern edge of civilization to the salty waters of Panthalassa on the southern coast, was disquietingly still.
It was a rainy day when Yuuhei and Eiji were called into the office of the City General of Ajanum. They assumed that they would be given orders for a renewed offensive operation against Kolsigrad, but when they entered the command room they were surprised to find not only the City General himself waiting for them, but also Kyoichi Saitou, the Forward General of the entire Southern Theatre.
“Reporting as ordered, sir,” said Eiji. He masked his surprise by falling immediately into protocol.
“Oh, here already,” said Forward General Saitou.
“Soldiers,” the City General said, “you are being reassigned.”
Both Eiji and Yuuhei said nothing, wearing perfect masks of soldierly sangfroid. In fact neither one yet had any idea how to take the news.
“You may have noticed,” said Saitou, “that we appear to be entering a lull in the fighting. This is true in every part of the Front.” He turned to face the office window, through which he watched the heavy rain smear the cloud-muted colors and contours of the city outside. “Such a lull is not at all unprecedented in this long struggle, and would still not be even if it lasted two years or more. What it means is that we have temporarily arrived at a tactical stalemate.”
He let silence fall for a moment, and the four of them listened to the rain drumming against the tile of the eaves.
“However, High Command will not allow this stalemate to go on for so long. In the last two months the balance of the war has shifted back into our favor, and the stagnation caused by a long pause in the fighting always presents an opportunity for a shift in momentum. Often that is exactly what has happened after such a lull. But this time High Command has devised a strategy to use this pause in the fighting to our advantage. We will be undertaking a massive restructuring of the Meihonese expeditionary forces, after which we will be able to apply our strength with a great deal more fluidity and effectiveness. We will ensure that we come out of the stalemate still on the advance.”
Saitou continued staring at the slightly-fogged window. The City General took a seat on the silk floor cushion behind his desk, shifted his ash tray close to him, and lit a clove cigarette. The crackling of its burning tip was the only sound other than the drizzling white noise of the rain for several minutes.
Finally Saitou cleared his throat and went on.
“We know through very reliable and consistent intelligence that the Kolsivites are on the verge of deploying new technology to the Front in the near future. Several new weapons developments all at once, and then a great deal more over the next decade or so. I am talking about tremendously powerful technology that will completely change the nature of the fighting, on a par with the first use of firearms or the invention of motorized armored vehicles. If we continued after the lull to fight as we have been without anything new ourselves, we would surely be overcome.”
Yuuhei, shaken by Saitou’s words, spoke up unceremoniously.
“Sir,” he said, stepping out of attention with involuntary alarm, “what is this technology? And why, if we know about it, don’t we use it ourselves?”
Saitou turned to face them. He smiled knowingly, closing his eyes.
“Because what this technology represents is utter desperation, and a disregard for all notions of humanity. If we were to implement it as well, it would mean the end of human civilization as we know it. You will learn about it in great detail soon, as you will be undergoing extensive re-training and drilling in new weaponry designed specifically to counter it. But there is another reason we will not make use of this technology. It is because Meihonese science has recently made a break-through of its own. A discovery that assures us that we have nothing to fear from the Kolsivites’ new weapons technology, no matter how terrible it may be.”
Yuuhei relaxed a little bit, falling back into attention. Eiji remained silent and unmoved. They both waited breathlessly for the Forward General to go on.
“In fact,” Saitou said, “what I am talking about is simply the confirmation through biological and genetic data of something that we already know intuitively, something that is obvious to us all. That we Meihonese are the world’s one hope for civilization.” He nodded and changed his tone. “You will report to the High Command HQ in Shijima in exactly sixteen days,” he handed them each a sealed black envelope – their written orders. “You will both be instrumental in the coming restructuring of the military. Indeed your valor will be of utmost importance to all of Meihonese society. The changes coming are going to be of much broader impact than just military tactics. Sixteen days, the High Command offices in Shijima. Until then, you are on leave. Please see the local office of the Transit Guild should you need any assistance making travel arrangements. With your orders you each have an unlimited travel pass to anywhere in the Empire good throughout your time off.”
The two remained at attention.
“That’s all,” the City General spoke up from his seat, rubbing out the butt of his cigarette in his black lacquered ash tray. “Dismissed.”
“Sir,” said Yuuhei, “can’t you explain any of this more clearly?”
“I could,” Saitou said, with a deep resonating laugh, “And we would be here all day. In Shijima it will be clarified to you in depth. For now, go and enjoy your time to yourselves. You will not be receiving so much of it again for a long while.”
