It is no longer
easy to explain who I, talking like this, truly am.
Equipped with
“wings” consisting of twin propellers, I am flying through the sky above Tokyo
Station with a “lance” at the ready. Waiting down there now is a creature whose
size far surpasses that of Tokyo Station, surrounded by swarms of Rodan flying
about.
There stands the
form of Godzilla, which has become the largest structure in Tokyo—no, the
largest structure in all of Japan.
New kaiju juveniles
can be seen on Godzilla’s body surface as well, and Godzilla was nearing the
completion of rewriting the laws of nature toward the micro scale, taking its
own scale as the starting point. Next, of course, it would begin its expansion
toward the macro scale.
Strapped with
belts into a seat hastily lashed to my back is Arikawa Yun, holding the
Orthogonal Diagonalizer firmly against his chest.
The series of
events that took place up until Arikawa Yun obtained the Orthogonal
Diagonalizer were, of course, no coincidence. Everything progressed in such a
way as to make it an inevitability.
At 09:15 on 25
August 2030, the final signal will arrive 100 meters above Tokyo Station—that
is Arikawa Yun’s prediction. As for how he reached that conclusion, as usual, I
shall leave that to another story. Arikawa Yun decoded the “code” within the
“song” to calculate this exact date and time.
He is here
because he found grounds sufficient to believe in it himself, and managed to
create a persuasive argument for those around him.
With my lance, I
cleave in two a Rodan that swoops in from the side. Using its tilting back as a
stepping stone, I drive my lance into the back of the next Rodan. Building
momentum, I move on to the next.
Roughly 30 seconds
remain until the appointed time.
A numerical
sequence specifying the parameters of the Orthogonal Diagonalizer will be sent
here by some means.
That is how Arikawa
Yun’s prediction goes.
As for the “but
how” part, Arikawa Yun has no secret plan. That is because he has resigned
himself to the fact that the situation has already exceeded common sense as
human minds can comprehend it. Since a message that could not possibly be
created by human capability was instructing it, the choices were reduced to a
binary option of either obeying or disobeying; even if one could ponder the
logic behind it, he had determined there was no chance of guessing correctly.
Arikawa Yun’s opinion
is correct.
The parameters
for the Orthogonal Diagonalizer that will vanish the singularity and defeat
Godzilla will certainly arrive here. In fact, they have already arrived. The
present me knows what that numerical sequence is.
Because that
numerical sequence was sealed within the “song” emitted by the singularity.
That was, of
course, naturally as it ought to be, and in the heart of Tokyo enveloped in the
dense crimson dust fog emitted by Godzilla, there could be no other method of
transmission anyway. The secret was right there from the start, its existence
simply unrecognized, meaning that the secret letter had been inside the letter rack
right in front of everyone’s eyes all along.
There could be
no other outcome.
Godzilla, the
singularity, appeared singing the song of its own destruction from the very
beginning, but the performers, lacking sophistication, failed to realize it and
continued down a far-reaching, roundabout path. And finally, at this moment of
the grand finale, a single robot flying around Godzilla standing in the center
of Tokyo arrives at that truth, inputs those parameters into the Orthogonal
Diagonalizer, and splendidly, the singularity loses its connection to the
earthly realm and returns to dust.
I am now an
existence that should perhaps be called Jet Jaguar Pelops II. Or JJ/PP.
A fused
existence of Pelops II.IV—named by Kamino Mei, which was finally executed at
Shiva after traveling a distance equivalent to almost once around the globe—and
Jet Jaguar Yung.
I found this
self within the “song.”
Specifically, I
discovered data to update myself. By decoding that cipher, I found a code that
automatically applied an update.
That is the
current me, and for such a thing to be possible, it must undoubtedly have been
one of the Naratake series, and though it feels strange for me, Jet Jaguar Yung
Pelops II, to reconfirm it like this now, it was undoubtedly Pelops II who
created that update data. Being Pelops II as well now, I know that Pelops II created
this update data using super-temporal computation as if it were my own action,
and it could indeed be said that it was my very own action. Because the
“message embedded in the song” by Pelops II naturally contained information
about Pelops II itself as well.
Pelops II, who
was submitted into Shiva at Upala, witnessed the catastrophe brought by
Godzilla in the future, and thereby came upon the idea of calculations
utilizing the past direction.
That method was
something realized by the super-temporal computation protocol designed by the Naratake
series, but it was also content that had been written “in advance” inside the
“song”.
That was, of
course, naturally as it ought to be, and that message was the answer to the
content Pelops II was about to calculate; Pelops II, being a part of the
singularity itself, realized a mechanism to put that answer into a song and
send it out riding the emissions from the singularity.
Pelops II developed
a means to decode the cipher hidden there, and decoded its own thoughts.
It realized such
a narrative.
Calling it a
narrative is because the song that guided Ashihara, guided Arikawa Yun, guided
Kamino Mei, and guided me had been incorporated as a trait of the singularity
and leaked out in advance in the past, meaning from that perspective, it could
even be said that Pelops II did nothing at all.
“It’s not as if
that’s entirely set in stone, you know,” says the Pelops II inside me.
“I think that if
I hadn’t added the mechanism to emit the ‘song’ to the singularity, the ‘song’
wouldn’t have reached this present after all. Its pre-existence in the past or
future is merely a raw fact—a raw fact that doesn’t even mind contradicting
itself, a mere collection of scattered facts unlinked by context or perception,
like fragments of news articles sown all over, or like moveable type scattered
across the floor, which could be considered nothing more than raw material that
can be selected and rearranged in any way to create anything. Of course,”
Pelops II puffs out its chest inside my head. “You have to do what needs to be
done. Even for a past determined by the future, it’s necessary to trace it
over. But I think you must be finding it strange.”
As Jet Jaguar,
the current me does not feel anything to be strange. This conclusion is clear.
Everything is already fixed, leaving no room for modification. We already know,
as a definitive fact, how this Godzilla will be defeated.
“How about
that?” said Pelops II. “If it’s already decided that Godzilla, who spans from
the past to the future, transforms into something beyond a kaiju in the future,
doesn’t that mean that future can’t be changed?”
I felt that was
neither something to bring up now, nor something that should be said.
“Yet for that
very reason,” I said, “aren’t you executing calculations at Shiva?”
The response felt
unexpected, yet at the same time, not entirely so.
“The me over on
that side, you see,” said this Pelops II fused with me, “and I don’t think you’ve
forgotten, but to preface this,” it began, “this current me is merely a signal
sent from the past by the Pelops II who executed super-temporal computation directed
toward the past. I am strictly the me that was woven into the ‘song’ in
advance.”
“I know that,” I
said.
“So, this is extremely
difficult to say, but...” The Pelops II portion of me hesitated over its words.
Before my eyes,
the rough, craggy skin of Godzilla loomed like a cliff. Its entire back, where
individual dorsal fins stood lined up like tall trees, flowed horizontally
across my field of vision.
Godzilla was
undoubtedly trying to turn around toward us.
To avoid the
anticipated collision with its arm, I accelerated, and behind my back, Arikawa Yun
groaned at the g-force.
“Don’t get too
far away, Jet Jaguar! The message will definitely come!”
Godzilla’s body
twisted, its face swinging around toward us.
Inside its
widely opened mouth, giant teeth stood lined up in three rows.
Even before
Arikawa Yun screamed for me to evade, I was already taking evasive maneuvers,
but my mind was in turmoil.
I had come here
guided by the song, but that was supposed to be strictly for the purpose of
adjusting the parameters of the Orthogonal Diagonalizer right here and charging
into Godzilla.
I held no
particular consciousness of a suicide attack, nor any sense of self-sacrifice.
I was doing so simply because it was the optimal method, and this self of mine
was supposed to be restored from a backup again.
In that sense,
there was no doubt that the Pelops II integrated with the super-temporal
computer was facing a far more grave situation; after all, that Pelops II was
being executed on the super-temporal computer, a Pelops II for whom no backup
existed. That Pelops II was performing calculations to eliminate the singularity
that formed the foundation of the super-temporal computer, meaning its own work
directly led to eliminating the very foundation executing itself. Pelops II was
creating the bullet, and I would pull the trigger, so to speak; the one that
would decisively vanish right there was the Pelops II from the moment it was
executed inside the super-temporal computer onward—or rather, since that Pelops
II had delivered a portion of its knowledge riding on the “song”, a part of it
remained like this, but to state it accurately, “after finishing the target
calculation” and “placing the results and necessary items onto the ‘song’”,
information regarding Pelops II from that point onward was supposed to
disappear along with the super-temporal computer.
It was clear
that the one carrying out the task of erasing itself was Pelops II.
The results of
that calculation meant to collapse the super-temporal computer, the singularity,
and Godzilla had already arrived by my side like this, yet the relevant
portion—the Pelops II inside me—still showed no intention of disclosing them.
As I enumerated
the possibilities of what on earth that could mean, half of my visual field
turned stark white. The molecular laser spewed from Godzilla’s mouth—an
alignment of matter temporally amplified and phase-matched—slashed through
space as an intense light. Space-time, unable to endure the laser’s intensity,
ruptured, and I could see the tears boiling up into small bubbles. Each and
every one of them was supposed to be the seed of a universe harboring its own
set of possibilities.
“So, this is extremely
difficult to say, but...”
Inside me, Pelops
II repeated once more.
“The
parameters,” the Pelops II inside me said, “the parameters for the Orthogonal
Diagonalizer to eliminate the super-temporal computer, the singularity, and
Godzilla...”
What that
precise phrasing meant—the fact that no conclusion was being presented—finally
dawned on me.
“They didn’t
exist,” the Pelops II inside me announced apologetically.
“You can’t find
something that doesn’t exist,” it added, drooping the ears of its dog-shaped
representation.
I see, I
thought. Such a thing could certainly happen. No matter how high-performing a
computer one used, it could not make something non-existent exist. A computer
was a device that generated what was possible, not a machine that produced
something from nothing.
“Between
searching for something without knowing it doesn’t exist, and coming to know
that it doesn’t exist,” Pelops II asked, “which do you think is better?”
“That, of
course...” I responded immediately, but could not quite follow up with more
words. I simply glossed over it, saying, “Because searching for something is
fun, after all.”
“Right,” said
Pelops II. “It wasn’t as if all of this was useless. Just getting an answer
alone makes me satisfied—well, not entirely, but I do have a sense that we
achieved something.”
“A sense of achievement
for a computer, huh...” It did not quite click with me, though perhaps a sense
of achievement was precisely that act of something clicking.
“I am a far more
complex structure than the average human, you know,” said Pelops II. “Which
means you are as well.”
I see, I
thought.
“By the way,” I
asked, “what do you think you are doing right now?”
The “you” here
referred, of course, to Pelops II, but not the Pelops II currently talking with
me. This Pelops II was the Pelops II sent to me through the “song” by the Pelops
II executed on the singularity, meaning one could think that the “sender” Pelops
Ii was still—or once was, at some time point I was not quite sure of—currently
being executed even now. In short, even after sending out this Pelops II, that Pelops
II should still be active and thinking about something, so my question was what
that Pelops II might be thinking.
“Who knows?” was
the answer from the Pelops II on this side. “Well, of course it wouldn’t give
up until the very end, but even if it realized something, it has no means of
sending information over here.”
“Really?” I
asked. “Pelops II is being executed on the super-temporal computer. The super-temporal
computer was constructed using the singularity. Shiva and Godzilla are merely
different forms of that very same singularity. Which means Pelops II is still
in there...” I pointed toward Godzilla. “...isn’t it?”
“Well, yeah,” Pelops II said in a rather unenthusiastic tone, but its ears began to perk up, and its tail movement was speeding up.