[210] 4. The Truth of Heaven (4)
"I don't get it. Why would you make a contract like that? I know an Ingris administrator can't meddle in heavenly matters. But you follow the Law too. Selling lifespans to heretics isn't part of your usual duties, is it?"
The administrator blinked dumbly.
"You're blunt. Usually people know and look the other way. Anyway, fine. I was put in charge of the Ingris archives because I have the ability to assimilate concepts. For tens of thousands of years. What do you think that means? I can't do anything here. So I need words. To escape this place."
It was absurd. But not theoretically impossible.
A Mara's lifespan could be near-immortal. How long she had left was unknown, but if she gathered enough words she might eventually reach it.
"So you plan to become the Akashic Record yourself."
"Hoho! Exactly! While controlling information here I realized—I could become a god. But one thing was missing! I deleted the information about how to leave this place. I have to fill that in! That's why the heretics are my main customers. If I can get out of here, I'll be greater than Ra!"
The Harvester spoke through the mental channel.
- Canis, this woman is dangerous.
Canis's own impression was tinged with unease.
Someday she might gather the words and complete the Akashic Record, but when that would happen, no one could say.
Of course he understood the feeling. If he'd been locked away in a library for tens of thousands of years, he might have gone mad too.
Madness had begun to seep from the administrator's eyes.
"Are you going to do it or not? You've been stalling. Do you have some other motive?"
A bluish aura crept over the Mara's form. A sharp hostility radiated from her.
If they refused the deal it would come down to combat. Could they win? If they died here, their friends' efforts would be for nothing.
- Canis, this is dangerous. Be careful.
Canis finally weighed the risk.
The offer—extend a lifespan in exchange for just one word—would tempt anyone.
Honestly, when the proposal was first made, the first people that came to his mind were himself and Arin.
If his life were extended to three hundred years, what would there be to envy?
But they hadn't taken it.
The Unlockers who came here two hundred years ago kept their end of the contract, extended Kadum's life, and returned to their original world.
The reason was simple.
They had to reveal their names.
Canis had refused to stake his lifespan for the same reason.
Was it safe to give Mara, who could control all information, his name?
If she learned the word "Canis," who knew what demands a half-mad Mara would make.
- I know. But we can't stall forever. The Mecha system needs to be shut down too.
When Canis fell silent, the administrator's face twisted into a monstrous expression.
She was on the verge of rampaging.
'Even confronting a one-horned Mara head-on is a disadvantage. We have to stall while making a contract.'
Handing over a single word didn't seem like it would cause immediate catastrophe.
But those who'd come two hundred years ago had said it hadn't been a profitable trade.
Given that history inevitably bends under a chronicler's hand, they'd incurred enormous losses.
'Anyway, they made the contract. That's for sure. But what could happen from selling a word?'
Canis pictured the scene two centuries ago. Nothing came to mind.
Then an idea struck. If his master had come to Ingris, what choice would he have made?
'I see! That's it!'
Canis gave his orders.
- I'll stall. You search for the panel with the serial number written on the memo. Something should be written there.
- What for? Even if it's a Dark Magic enhancement method, we can't use it now.
- No. My master must have known there was an administrator in Ingris. If he left only a serial number, it might mean it's not what we're looking for.
- Got it. But the number's complicated; it'll take time to find.
The Harvester slipped into Canis's shadow, absorbed by darkness and moving elsewhere.
"All right, we'll make the deal."
When Canis spoke as if he'd given up, the administrator's face brightened instantly.
"Good choice! So who? Should I extend your life?"
"No. Kadum again."
"Oh? Really? Whoever that man is, he's lucky."
"Instead… don't extend him this time. Restore his life to its original length. Ingris can do that, right?"
The administrator blinked in surprise.
She'd seen countless requests to lengthen life, but never one to restore it.
An evil smile spread across her lips.
"This will be fun. Something must've happened."
Canis returned the smile.
Kadum, chief of Kergos, had been starving his people to feed his own immortality. Canis, who knew the pain of famine, disliked him.
He'd lived three hundred extra years off money ripped from his tribe.
Restoring him to his original lifespan instead of killing him outright would be a mercy of sorts.
"All right, all right. I like this."
The administrator pounded at the central control console with frantic fingers.
Canis pretended to be pleased and watched what she did. He wasn't a mechanic, but watching could prove useful later.
"There, done. I've restored his lifespan to its original state. Of course, it varies by person. Acceptance of time differs. Still, this one probably won't live long. I removed three hundred years; he's almost at biological limits."
"That's fine. He's lived his fill."
"Hohoho! For a human, that's a long life. Now then…"
Canis took a step back. The administrator's gaze had shifted.
He'd expected it to some degree, but seeing her mental state flip like that gave him chills. He only wished the Harvester would move faster.
"Contract complete! Now, shall I take the word?"
"Ugh!"
A headache twisted Canis's face. He didn't know the exact nature of the ability, but it was a nonstandard ritual.
The problem wasn't the price but the contract.
If a nonstandard ritual established by mutual contract was in effect, even if it couldn't be cancelled, it didn't violate equivalent exchange.
"Damn! Wasn't the word supposed to be my choice?"
"Heh heh! Of course it is! I'm only taking a taste. Hmm? It's fine. What words do you have? Ah, this is nice. This one's good too! I love them all so much I could die!"
Watching the administrator shriek in ecstasy, Canis corrected his misjudgment.
She wasn't just a bit unhinged. Her obsession was like that of a numbers-obsessed nerd.
- Harvester, are you done yet?
- Wait! I found the second entry.
A second serial number meant there was still a long way to go.
Canis planned to buy time with magic.
But his magic wouldn't activate. Whenever he summoned a concept, she immediately deleted it.
'Damn. So that's her power.'
The administrator's unregulated rite, the "Editorial Department in the Head," could freely edit the contracted target's thoughts.
The technique she used on Canis was "Suggestion," editing his thoughts to propose ideas.
If he invoked the veto, he could regain his original thoughts—but for a short time, logical thinking would be impossible, which was lethal in combat.
"How is it? Confused, right? Eyes. Anger. Comrades. Focus. What else shall I edit?"
"Godsdamn it!"
Canis clenched his teeth to hold onto his thoughts. Every time a word slipped away, the linguistic structure tied to it collapsed, leaving a hollow spot in his head.
"Heh heh heh! See now? How important one word is? Two hundred years ago, that man sold me the word mosquito! He said he hated it or whatever! Do you know what happened?"
- Harvester!
- Almost there! Last entry!
Canis was losing his grip.
Even if he used the veto, she would scramble his mind deliberately until his consciousness was about to fly apart.
Satisfied, the administrator grabbed Canis by the throat and lifted him.
She looked frail, but the one-horned Mara's strength exceeded conventional limits.
"That man went mad from nightmares of mosquitoes for days. Imagine—there it was in his dreams, but he couldn't name it. Any human would go insane. Hee hee hee!"
Canis realized how badly history could be distorted.
Not a profitable business? They'd lost comrades. The value of one word could mean a life.
"Fraud… the lot of you."
"Oh? Saying that when you had your own schemes."
The administrator turned her head, still holding Canis by the throat.
Every panel the Harvester had swept through lay emptied. She'd probably searched the panels, found words she didn't recognize, and planned to sell them.
"Hoho, clever. But impossible. You can only sell words that already have meaning assigned. I told you that earlier. You have no learning ability, you know?"
Canis went pale. Blood no longer seemed to reach his brain.
"Now, hand it over and be at ease. Or you'll die here."
- H... Harvester...
- Found it! Canis!
The Harvester traced the record on the glass plate with his hand.
He sensed the world through vibrations, and the sentences on the plate seeped into the mental channel.
Canis's half-mad gaze snapped back into focus.
"All right, I'll give you the word."
"Hoho, excellent choice. Now, what word will it be?"
"Suggestion" was powerful, but the true horror was "Coercion."
It activated by contract and permanently stole the word the target offered; the consequences touched life itself.
The administrator waited with madness shining in her eyes for Canis's answer.
A moment where, knowing it would drive him insane, he still had to offer a single word—that must be the most thrilling instant for her.
"Yu…"
The administrator's brow twitched. She didn't like words starting with "Yu."
"Yu. Re. Ka."
Canis collapsed to the floor. Clutching his throat, he gasped; when he raised his head the administrator was shaking, her face ashen.
"You… how did you—my name…?"
The panel bearing the serial numbers left by Arkein held nothing related to Dark Magic.
It contained Mara biographies.
Specifically, records about Yureka, the Ingris administrator.
Yureka hadn't been mad from the start.
She'd once been a Mara that entered the minds of thinkers to edit thoughts and help invention.
It was likely the loneliness of tens of thousands of years that had driven her to this state.
"No, no! It can't end like this!"
Canis had known Yureka and then forgotten her.
Now a Yureka who shouldn't exist did exist, so by the law of causality she had to vanish.
"No! Just a little more and I could've done it! I could've become a god! Call me! Tell me who I am!"
"I'm sorry…"
Canis smiled faintly and said, "I don't know who you are."
Shock flashed in Yureka's eyes. Her pupils rolled, and a despairing scream raced along Ingris's walls.
When Yureka vanished, the unregulated rite released and Canis recovered his concepts.
"Phew, I really can't stand this."
Canis sagged to the floor. If the Harvester had retrieved the information a moment later, he would have been gone.
Ah—was this the afterlife?
"Canis, you okay?"
"Yeah, so-so. A little rest and my mind will recover."
Ingris, bereft of its master, felt empty.
Canis stared at the spot where Yureka had been. Loneliness was a painful word even to him.
The Harvester voiced that feeling as if to embody it.
"She must've been lonely. Rotten away in a place like this for tens of thousands of years."
"Mara are only reset. Maybe in the next life she'll have a better existence."
A solemn silence passed, then the Harvester said, "But Canis, I should tell you one thing. The moment we encountered the word Yureka, part of Arkein's memory was restored. It seems that was some kind of keyword."
Something occurred to Canis and he shot to his feet.