2

Her destination, the Union Care Center, was a building designed in the style of

Gothic Revival architecture. Echika couldn’t help but stare at it, but that soon

prompted ads to flash into life on the outer walls. Her Your Forma automatically

read their data matrices, instantly opening the products’ purchase pages in her

browser.

Ugh, stop that.

Needlessly exhausted, she arrived at the center’s lobby with the driver Amicus

in tow. The lobby was full of haggard outpatients, and none of them looked like

the kind of person who might work as an electronic investigator aide. Echika

exhaled hard. Her partners being late wasn’t anything new.

“Maybe I should tell you about him anyway,” the Amicus started again. “Your

aide’s name is Harold Lucraft, and he recently transferred to your department

from the city police. He has blond hair and is about 175 meters tall.”

“I said it’s fine. I’ll just check his personal data when I see him—”

But as Echika turned to the Amicus to complain, she got her first good look at

him, then froze up in amazement. She didn’t care much for him because he was

a machine, but his features were incredibly handsome.

His age had been set to his mid to late twenties. He had blond hair held in

place with wax, and he had uniform brows and gentle eyelashes. The bridge of

his nose was perfectly straight, and his lips were thick in just the right way. The

back of his hair stood up a little, and he had a faint mole on his right cheek,

granting him a very human appearance.

From top to bottom, he looked like a work of art that a craftsperson had put

their heart and soul into. He clearly wasn’t a mass-produced model but a

customized one that cost a great deal of money.

“As for Lucraft’s attire, today, he’s wearing a tartan scarf and a melton coat.”

Echika couldn’t even blink anymore because the Amicus in front of her was

wearing exactly that. Even his coat, with its mundane design, somehow

accentuated his slender, well-proportioned physique.

“No way…,” she uttered, her mouth feeling awfully dry all of a sudden.

“You’re joking, right?”

He smiled serenely—a smile so sophisticated, it almost gave her heartburn.

“My apologies for not introducing myself sooner. I’m Harold Lucraft,” the

Amicus—Harold—said, extending his hand for a shake.

Hold on. No. Stop messing with me.

“That can’t be. I’ve never heard of Amicus working as electronic investigator

aides. You just do the chores—”

“True, Amicus in investigative organizations usually manage evidence-storage

rooms and security. Humans and analysis automatons handle the investigations

themselves. My title isn’t official, either.”

Since their productivity didn’t match that of industrial robots, Amicus were

usually charged with routine tasks. As AGI—Artificial General Intelligence—they

stressed human appearance over efficiency. Back when AGI was still a

theoretical concept, scholars dreaded the possibility of them becoming a hyper

intelligence that could overshadow humankind. But once they actually came to

be, they didn’t amount to anything more than “clever but obedient robots” that

served as reliable partners to humankind.

The Amicus traced their origins to the height of the pandemic. They were

developed by the England-based Novae Robotics Inc. as a humanoid machine.

Much like the Your Forma, the fields of robotics and AI research had made great

strides during that time. With risk of infection discouraging physical contact

between people, investments were made into robots that could work in their

place.

And so the English government sunk vast funds into Novae Robotics Inc.’s

research, allowing them to make their humanoid machines a reality. The first

androids were supplied only to medical institutes. Though they were the

spitting image of humans, they were also incredibly expensive.

Not only did the robots perform their assignment well, but they also behaved

the way people sought; they comforted, encouraged, and sympathized with

them, caring and relieving the stress of both the patients suffering from the

virus and their healthcare providers.

The machines were later rebranded and put on sale as Amicus, and they soon

spread throughout society, both in home and business environments. It only

made sense that at present, clashes between the Amicus sympathizers and the

luddites were creating frequent problems in society.

Yet as “human” as the Amicus were, and despite how flexible and capable of

adapting to different situations they could be, they were jacks-of-all-trades,

masters of none. Their depth of understanding of any specific field was

shallower than industrial robots.

That was why analysis ants were preferred over Amicus when it came to

specialized tasks like criminal investigations. And yet the Amicus gazing at her

had nevertheless introduced himself as her new assistant.

“If you really are my aide, then why didn’t you tell me you were when we

met?”

“Oh.” Harold retracted his hand in a carefree manner. “My apologies. It’s just

that I wanted to observe what kind of person you are… Did you happen to

watch a movie on your flight?”

“Huh?” She had. “So what if I did?”

“It was The Third Cellar, correct?”

Echika blinked a few times. He was dead-on, but how did he know that?

“No way. Who told you?”

“Oh, no one told me. I assumed you were taking an Étoile France flight. And if

you check their home page, The Third Cellar is highlighted as one of their

recommended in-flight pictures.”

“…And?”

“If you’re someone who isn’t particular about their tastes, you’d likely pick

the recommended title. And given your profession, only a very thrilling story

would draw you in. Your eyes are congested on account of you blinking less,

and your lips are dry because you lick them more when you’re frightened.

Meaning the movie was likely a psychological-horror thriller, and the only

recommended movie of that genre in their catalog was The Third Cellar.”

“What the hell are you…?” Echika muttered, taken aback.

“Which makes me think that you’re something of an indifferent person, aren’t

you, Investigator? I’m picking up the scent of an electronic cigarette’s flavor on

you, too. And if I may be so bold, a very cheap flavor, at that. That makes me

think you don’t have any preferences when it comes to smoking, either—you

only do it to distract yourself. People like you don’t usually have any interest in

their daily lives. You care little for fashion or romance, and you’re married to

your job.”

She was speechless. And as Echika stared at him, stunned, Harold regarded

her with a satisfied smirk.

“It’s basic human observation. I think that demonstrates my aptitude as an

investigator, don’t you?”

This isn’t funny—what is this thing?

Amicus knew how to read people’s emotions so they could communicate

effectively, but this level of accuracy was abnormal. Just what was going on?

“Investigator Hieda,” Harold whispered, his lips curled into a soft smile that

left no room for argument, “I will do my utmost to be a suitable partner until

we solve this case.”

Give me a break.

An Amicus investigator aide? With skills so honed, they could violate her

privacy?

“I, hmm… I need a minute,” Echika managed somehow. “Let me call my

superior.”

<Holo-call to Vi Totoki>

Stepping outside the Care Center, Echika immediately called Chief Totoki. The

temperature was as low as it had been earlier that morning, but for some

reason, she couldn’t feel the cold; that was how shaken she was.

Holo-calls, or Holographic Telepresence, were one of the Your Forma’s

features. It used holographic models to make it feel as though you were

standing directly across from your conversation partner.

“Oh, good morning, Hieda.”

The call connected, and Chief Totoki’s image appeared before her eyes. She

had sharp facial features, so she gave a rather stern impression despite being a

woman. Her black hair was bound and reached down to her waist, and her gray

suit didn’t have a single wrinkle on it.

This woman in her midthirties led the team that managed all the electronic

investigators. Totoki’s official title was senior police investigator, and she’d

worked her way up the ladder through a different route than electronic

investigators and their aides.

“Do you have any idea what time it is right now here in Lyon? Eight AM.

People are only getting out of bed this time of day.”

“My apologies.” Echika held back the urge to snap at her. Keep your cool. “Did

you stay quiet about my partnership with Benno being annulled because my

new partner is an Amicus?”

“Not at all. I was just busy, so I forgot to get around to breaking it to you.”

Lies. Totoki wasn’t above tricking people like that. “I get that you hate Amicus.

It’s just that we only have a limited number of investigators. And with you

causing your aides to go kaput and sending them to the hospital every so

often, we’re starting to have holes in our investigations.”

“But that’s because—”

“Yes, I know. No aide can match you, and I’m also to blame for turning a

blind eye to the disparity in your abilities. But we finally found you a better

partner.”

“And they’re an Amicus?” How is that better? she almost asked. “Besides, the

Your Forma and the Amicus’s AI operate on completely different standards. He

probably can’t connect to the Lifeline anyway.”

“We’ve prepared a special Lifeline with an HSB to USB converter for him. He

can definitely connect to it.”

“And if his processing speed doesn’t match mine, I’ll just end up frying his

circuits regardless.”

“He’s a special model, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

“What, because he’s bespoke? Don’t tell me you had that thing made to

order.”

“Originally, he was working for the Saint Petersburg police’s detective

division. He was put in charge of this incident and assigned to our office

instead, that’s all.” Totoki said it so matter-of-factly that the more Echika

listened, the more she doubted this was true. “He’s a special model, but we

didn’t order his production. As you well know, we don’t have that kind of

budget.”

“But you just said you had a special Lifeline prepared for him.”

“Because that’s a necessary investment. We’re not just doing this for you;

this could end up benefiting many electronic investigators in the future.”

Was she saying she wanted Amicus handling the aide duties in the future?

Absurd.

“Hieda, his computation rate is a match for your data-processing speed. The

numbers don’t lie,” Totoki insisted, trying to persuade her. “There was talk of

sacking you in the general meeting, you know. But I fought tooth and nail to

reject that suggestion. You’re a rare talent, and the fact that you’re the

world’s youngest electronic investigator is proof of that.”

The world’s youngest electronic investigator, a prodigy. Thinking back to the

time when the media had made a big deal out of her and kept calling her that

made Echika quite bitter. She’d entered this job three years ago. She was

sixteen at the time, having skipped grades to graduate high school early. People

calling her a genius had put quite a bit of pressure on her, but at least when

they called her that back then, it didn’t reek of sarcasm like it did today.

But all that changed when she unintentionally fried her first aide’s brain.

“Besides, this method won’t end up hurting any human aides.”

She couldn’t deny this was good news. That one point alone seemed to drown

out any other counterarguments.

“And if you have any other complaints, figure out how to Dive in and escape

by yourself.”

“That’s impossible. No one can do that, which is why we have the partner

system in the first place.”

Divers like Echika specialized in data processing alone, so when they’d begun

Brain Diving, they couldn’t control it. It was like skydiving in the sense that once

she plunged in, she could only continue plummeting straight down. This was

why she needed the Belayer to hold on to her Lifeline, carefully monitor her

condition, and pull her up in time.

“Are you satisfied now?”

Totoki clearly wasn’t going to budge on this. Echika didn’t think she could

really refuse, either. More than anything, the fact that the chief had covered for

her in the general meeting was big. Any normal person would feel grateful and

indebted after that.

But the price for that was partnering with a machine.

Echika apologized to Totoki for the sudden disturbance and hung up, then

ruffled her bangs. She understood now that she had no choice but to give in.

That Amicus would break before long anyway. Totoki seemed convinced that

his abilities would match hers, but it wasn’t like his compatibility with her had

ever been tested.

And it couldn’t possibly be as simple as letting an Amicus robot take over that role.

“That was a pretty long call, Investigator Hieda.”

The Care Center’s hospitalization ward was dark and quite old-fashioned in

style. As a human doctor led Echika and Harold down the hall, they passed by

hospital visitors and nurse Amicus.

“So what?” Echika retorted bluntly.

“I can tell even if you won’t say anything. You asked for a change in partner, right?”

“No,” she replied on the spur of the moment. Dammit. “I didn’t go that far.”

“That’s good.” Harold smiled. “If I may ask, do you hate Amicus?”

So he noticed. That question felt like he’d just lunged at her throat. Given her

attitude earlier, it was an obvious thing to inquire about, but having it pointed

out so plainly did make her a little embarrassed.

“No offense to you, but…yes, that’s right.”

“I don’t mind; things like that don’t bother me. What makes you despise us, though?”

“I’m not interested in sharing my personal history. Don’t ask me about it again.”

“I see. Well, I’m fine with the stoic sort. Those kind of people are respectable.”

“No…” What’s with him? Is he not gonna get it unless I say it to his face?

“What I’m saying is, I’m not going to pretend like we’re friends.”

“Hmm, excuse me… Can I start giving you the details about the infected patients?”

Echika stopped with a start. The slender doctor walking in front of them

turned a reproachful glare at their pointless chatter.

“My apologies.” Aah, time to switch gears. “You said the first patient was

hospitalized two days ago, right?”

“Correct, and this morning, we’ve gotten to the point where we have twelve

others hospitalized. More than half of them are students of the ballet academy,

and they were brought in for hypothermia symptoms. They all say that they see

an intense blizzard.”

The doctor gestured with his chin toward the window, where they could see a

dimly lit, almost sleepy sort of sky. There wasn’t a speck of snow to be seen,

and the only things dancing busily through the air were delivery drones.

“The patients’ minds really are seeing a blizzard,” Echika noted. “That shared

delusion is one of this sensory crime’s distinctive features.”

Sensory crimes were caused by cyber viruses that infected the Your Forma.

The first of these serial offenses showed up in Washington, DC, followed by

Paris, and now Saint Petersburg. Common symptoms included seeing an illusory

blizzard, followed by signs of hypothermia.

“I’ve only seen the patient records and past cases on the news, but this seems

to be a new strain of a self-propagating virus.”

“Yes, and even a Your Forma’s full scan can’t detect it. The developers in Rig

City have organized an analysis team to look into it.”

As of now, only two things had been made clear about the new infectious agent.

First, it started with a single infected source and spread to others via Your 

Forma messages and phone calls.

Second, the virus had a very short incubation period, roughly fifteen minutes,

which was the only time it was contagious.

Thus, the disease’s problem wasn’t so much its infectious capacity but rather

the fact that after its outbreak, the Your Forma became inoperable, which

hampered its capacity to spread.

At present, no one had discovered a means to remove the virus yet. There

were only limited ways of dealing with it: either applying a suppressant drug

that made the Your Forma’s functions shut down or undergoing a surgical

procedure to remove the Your Forma altogether.

“Delusions of a blizzard are one thing, but why would imaginary snow actually affect the body…?”

“The Electrocrime Investigations Bureau is grappling with that question, too,”

Echika remarked. “At the moment, we suspect it’s a nocebo effect. Like the old

water droplet experiment.”

“What’s that?”

“Briefly speaking, it’s an experiment that proved a person can convince

themselves to die. The subject is blindfolded and strapped to a bed. The doctor

tells them they’ll die once they lose two-thirds of their blood, then makes a

small nick on their big toe with a scalpel, causing a bit of blood to trickle out.”

“But in truth, they never actually made an incision, and what the patient

thought was the sound of their blood was droplets of water.” Harold continued

the explanation from where Echika left off, despite not having been asked to do

so. “The experiment goes on to give the patient hourly updates on how much

blood they’ve lost. And a few hours later, when they’re told they’ve bled out

two-thirds of their blood, the patient passes away, despite being physically

unharmed.”

“You’re well informed,” Echika snipped peevishly.

“I read it online once. Once we’ve seen something, we never forget it.”

“Oh yes, our nurse Amicus are like that, too,” the doctor added. “Whenever

crucial clinical records end up getting lost along with their backups, they can

output them from their memories and reproduce them.”

“That’s simple work for us.” Harold smiled. “But, Investigator, isn’t that

experiment a little too forceful of an explanation, rationally speaking?”

“The brain is surprisingly easy to fool,” Echika said, lowering her voice. “And

since the Your Forma is integrated with it, the experiment is considered a viable

explanation.”

The three of them arrived at a large hospital room housing fifteen beds. On

them lay the infected patients, sleeping soundly under the effect of the

suppressant. Every one of them seemed to be in stable condition.

“Per your request, we’ve attached Brain Diving cords to each person,” the doctor said.

The Brain Diving cords and Lifelines they used were all HSB cables. HSB stood

for Human Serial Bus, the unique standard the Your Forma used. Possession of

HSB cables was legally forbidden for individuals due to privacy-abuse issues, but

certain medical institutions and investigative organizations were allowed to use

them.

“Oh, so you’re going to discover the source of the infection from here,”

Harold mused. “Do you think you’ll discover the culprit, too?”

“I’m not sure about that. I’ll only know once I Dive in.”

In Washington and Paris, they’d traced the sources of the infection—Ogier, in

Echika’s case—but that didn’t reveal any clues about how the patients had been

exposed to the virus to begin with or the identity of the culprit. And since there

were no vestiges of the infection in the Your Forma and Mnemosynes of the

source patients, it proved that the people suffering from it had no idea where

they’d contracted it.

So this time, she had to pray this Dive wouldn’t turn out to be in vain, too.

“That being said,” the doctor started, looking around the room anxiously,

“processing twelve people in parallel. I’ve never seen electronic investigators

handle more than two at once… Won’t it impact your mental faculties and

scramble your ego?”

“Don’t worry. They requested me because I can handle it.”

Since electronic investigators experienced the memories and emotions stored

in the Mnemosynes as if they were their own, their Dives resulted in many

cases of ego scrambling that required mental care. In Echika’s case, however,

she could handle processing multiple people in tandem. Not once in her career

had those emotions engulfed and overtaken her.

If there was anything to be worried about in this situation, it was Harold’s processing abilities.

“So.” Echika glanced at the Amicus. “Aide Lucraft, where’s our Lifeline?”

“I was told to use this one.”

Harold took out an Umbilical Cord meant to connect electronic investigators

to their aide. Its design was a bit different from a typical Lifeline, though. It

looked like it was made of golden and silver threads woven around each other,

and it gave off a faint glint.

“It’s…custom-made.” Echika knit her brow.

“Yes. It converts the data sent to me when monitoring you into a protocol I can understand.”

Chief Totoki had deemed this a necessary investment, but Echika still had her

doubts about things working out. She’d had one negative experience too many

until now, and they’d left a lasting impression on her.

Despite her lack of enthusiasm, Echika plugged the Lifeline into the port in the

nape of her neck. Harold approached her to connect the cord himself and stood

right in front of her, prompting her to look away and suppress the urge to pull

back from him.

It’s been a long time since an Amicus has gotten so close to me. If this wasn’t

for work, I’d never be doing this.

“I’m connected, Investigator.”

“Aaah, yeah.” Echika glanced at Harold before freezing up.

He slid his entire left ear out of place and plugged the cord into a USB port

behind it. “Is…is there anything wrong?” Echika asked.

Moments like these were stark reminders that Amicus were nothing more

than machines in human form. And honestly, it was a little… No, it was very unsettling.

“Nothing in particular, though I’m a bit nervous,” he said with a relaxed smile

that belied his words. “You look like you’re doing all right, too.”

“…I’m used to this.”

That was a lie. Her heart was rumbling with anxiety. And of course it was—

she’d never been wired to an Amicus’s head before. There was no going back

now, though.

It’ll be fine. You’re good at shutting off your thoughts, aren’t you?

With the triangle connection complete, Echika took a deep breath.

Just do it like you always do.

“Let’s begin.”

As soon as she whispered that word, it felt as if her senses tilted for a second

—and the next moment, she was plummeting into a cybernetic ocean.

She started with the surface Mnemosynes. The feel of a pet dog’s fur against

her cheeks—a desire to protect it. The sight of a friend raising their voice—

heart-wrenching sorrow. The feel of a new pair of toe shoes in her hands—

excitement, a longing to dance. Browsing through a friend’s social media

timeline out of boredom. A photo of coffee with cheese scrolled by. The Mariinsky Theatre, 

shining beautifully, even when covered in ads—admiration…

The daily lives and emotions of a dozen people as recorded by their Your

Forma swirled around like fragments of glass. This hail of human emotions

haphazardly pelted Echika. But none of them was hers. She cloistered herself,

wrote them off as the emotions of another, and let them flow through her.

“If they died, I would have hated you for the rest of my days.”

A sudden whisper reached her—who was this?

“I almost keeled over because of you.”

“I’ll never partner with you again.”

No. These were Echika’s memories. Why was she Diving into her own

Mnemosynes? She was falling in the wrong direction… Right, this was a

countercurrent.

This is bad.

She could see it. A dark hallway. She shuddered. It was a hospital, and outside

the window was a town bathed in starlight. The moans of all the partners

whose lives she’d ruined emanated from somewhere. She heard sobbing. It was

from their families, friends, lovers.

“You’re terrible.”

“She’s like a machine.”

“I shouldn’t have paired with her.”

“Apologize.”

“And they call her a genius?”

I’m fine. This is fine. Nothing they say hurts. Because they’re the ones who are

really in pain, and I’m the one who hurt them.

She told herself this time and again.

Shut it down. Get away. This is unnecessary.

The world stiffly shifted around her as she somehow managed to change

course. Using the network, she traced the infected patients’ action history, from

their mailboxes to their social media accounts. Good, she was back on track.

Countless exchanges passed her by like a storm.

See you at school tomorrow. I had a fight with Dad. My friend bought a new

Amicus. I got brand-new toe shoes. About the countdown party…

They rushed past her like a current. Points of scattered information,

Mnemosynes, gathered, clashed, and connected. And little by little, they

formed a path to the source of the infection.

Suddenly, sparks obscured her field of vision. Her sister’s nostalgic face came

into view, her cherubic features forming a mature smile. White teeth peeked

between her peach-colored lips. This was another one of Echika’s Mnemosynes.

“Hold my hand, Echika. I’ll cast a spell to take the cold away.”

I want to see her. To hold her hands again. And this time, I won’t ever let go. I

won’t let anyone separate us—

No. Calm down. Don’t let your own feelings get the better of you. Shut them off.

Echika flailed about. She’d picked up too much speed, and now she wanted to

stop. But she couldn’t. No, she had to turn rudder, to make her way toward the

source of the virus. A convulsing sensation filled her mind. It was hot. She

turned back to the twelve Mnemosynes. The dozen sets intersected. There, she

searched for the origin of the infection.

And finally, she saw it.

And then Echika’s field of vision shook. An old scent filled her nostrils as she

found herself back in the hospital room. She panted, her forehead dripping with

sweat. She steeled herself, preparing to hear the doctor scream, just like the

other doctor had done when Benno collapsed.

Go on. Scream.

But she waited and waited, and the scream never came.

“You found it, didn’t you?”

Breath catching in her throat, she turned her gaze to the beautiful voice. Next

to her stood Harold, calm and composed, his expression as serene as it had

been before she Brain Dived. He held the Umbilical Cord, which he’d pulled out

of Echika’s neck, in his hand. He didn’t collapse like Benno did, nor did he seem

any worse for it. In fact, he looked totally fine.

She couldn’t believe it.

“What’s the matter, Investigator?”

Aaah. Chief Totoki was right.

This was the first time this had ever happened in her career as a electronic

investigator. Any other aide would perhaps not collapse after Brain Diving, but

they’d definitely look exhausted. And after experiencing several instances of

that fatigue, they’d eventually break down. Without exception.

But not only was Harold fine, he also didn’t even look mildly tuckered out.

Echika was flabbergasted. How was she able to successfully Dive while

connected to a machine? That made no sense. It shouldn’t be possible. She

couldn’t accept it. But reality, it seemed, was not without an ironic streak.

She’d finally found a partner to match her, and of all things, they were a

bloody Amicus.

“Investigator? Did I pull you up at the wrong time?” Harold peered at her

dubiously, his eyes as cold as a lake at dawn.

The depth of his artificial irises, the clear blood vessels tracing behind the

whites of his eyes. Beautiful, cold, perfect eyes.

“No…,” she managed in reply, her voice somewhat raspy. “Your timing was…

perfect.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m shocked,” the doctor uttered in an overwhelmed fashion. “You really

processed twelve people in tandem… How’s your head doing? Are you in any

kind of pain?”

Echika replied she was fine and licked her dry lips, forcing her train of thought

back to the investigation at hand. She looked up at Harold to put the

information she’d obtained in order.

“The source of the infection is called Clara Lee, a student from the ballet

academy. But…she’s not in this room.”

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