Baccano! - Volume 18 - Chapter 7.5

Interlude The Police Can’t Move

Inside the casino

“Let me tell you a sad, sad story.”

In the casino, where everyone was silent, Graham was the first one to speak.

“I didn’t know what to do back there. Should I team up with my man Ladd and take that Felix fella down?! Or should I respect his one-on-one fight and focus on taking apart the red-eyed bastard who was trying to get in the way?! And! The result! Of that! Hesitation! Is! This! Hell!”

As Graham yelled, he was swinging his wrench around rhythmically. His eyes were on the smashed-up game tables and the fallen, crushed frames of the chandeliers.

“This is just destruction! It’s not demolition! Nothing about this feels good. What now, Shaft?! What should I do?! How can I atone for my crimes and make everything broken go back to normal so it can get demolished properly and bring about world peace?!”

“Forget that. Just shut up, please.”

“…It’s fine. Let ’im scream, Shaft.” Hearing Graham yell the way he always did seemed to have calmed Ladd down a bit. He cracked his neck in a show of boredom, then spoke to Firo. “I’ll foot the bill for your busted casino. No sense in letting the Runoratas do you any favors.” Smacking his prosthetic left hand into his right palm, he muttered, half to himself. “I’ve got nothing to do with the Martillo Family, so I’ll slaughter that shithead Melvi for you. That’ll cover it, right?”

Firo seemed to be trying to organize the various doubts he’d developed. He just stood in the center of the casino, silently, and didn’t respond to Ladd. Ennis was watching him from a distance, and Ronny didn’t seem particularly inclined to give him advice, either.

Christopher started to speak to Firo, but Ricardo grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “I think you should wait until he’s calmed down, Christopher.”

“Really? I’m a pragmatist, you see. I’d like to ask him about that Felix fellow’s weak points now…”

“Yeah, um, Chris, I really don’t think you should do that just yet.” Even Rail discouraged him, and Christopher shrugged, moving away from Firo.

Jacuzzi, who’d nearly passed out from the sheer impact of Vino, had been gazing at them in a daze. However, he suddenly realized something and spoke up. “N-never mind that, shouldn’t we get out of the casino, fast…? It’s been a while since those first gunshots, and then there was a whole lot of noise a minute ago, so the police are probably just about here, right…?”

Maiza, who’d been thinking until just then, abruptly raised his head and reassured Jacuzzi. “No, I don’t think the police will be coming.”

“Huh…? What do you mean, Maiza?” Firo asked now that the sound of Maiza’s voice put him more at ease.

“Well… There’s a huge commotion about it on the radio, but it doesn’t sound as though any have flown this way.”

“Flown…? What’s flying?” Firo looked even more perplexed.

As Maiza filled him in, he wore a complicated expression.

“Right now, sites throughout Manhattan are under attack by strange aircraft, and the police are tied up dealing with them.”

All over New York City

In Manhattan, the sun had set, and night had come.

The dim light of neon signs dominated the dark sky. The seaplanes, which had appeared in that sky, flew between buildings or high over parks and broad avenues, sending the drone of their engines echoing all throughout town.

On top of that, the machine guns that were fixed to their noses were spitting sparks, scattering heavy, unmistakable reports of gun violence across the city.

“Eeeeeeeeeeeep?! V-Vice President! It’s a war! It’s all over for us! I was a lousy apprentice, and I never managed to get a full score, but I’m really glad I was able to be apprenticed to you, Vice President! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

Carol, who’d encountered one of those planes on a street corner, panicked and clung to her boss’s leg. However, the boss in question—Gustav St. Germain, vice president of the Daily Days newspaper—calmly observed the seaplane, then gently patted Carol’s head.

“Calm yourself, Carol… I hear shots, but no sounds of impact. Those are most likely blanks.”

New York Inside the Gandor Family office

“……”

“Hey, Keith, what the hell is going on out there?”

Under a jazz hall, in the office of the Gandor Family, Keith and Berga were playing a game of poker with some of their men. Just then, Tick and Maria, who’d gone to see what was happening outside, came downstairs.

“Umm, there were airplanes flying around. Airplanes are really keeeeen, huh.”

“It’s incredible, amigo! They were flying really low, between the buildings! If I jumped from the third floor or so, I just know I could cut ’em! Actually, do you think it would be okay if I did that, amigo?!”

The pair’s extremely scattered report made Berga scowl, but Keith just drew a card, his face as expressionless as ever. Then, when he looked at the number he’d pulled, his face clouded over slightly.

“……”

“Hunh? Keith, how’d that happen? Pulling a card like that from a deck that’s ninety percent jokers…”

As he gazed at the “7” card he’d set on the table, Keith felt a strange unease. Getting up, he went outside to take a look for himself.

He felt an overwhelming premonition that, before they knew it, they’d gotten dragged into some vast scheme—and he was steeling himself to smash it to pieces.

Somewhere in New York Victor’s investigation headquarters

“Now you’ve done it, damn you… You finally pulled the trigger, huh, Huey!”

Listening to the noise of the engines as they passed over the investigation headquarters, Victor slammed a fist into his desk.

“Dammit! Those airplanes—well, technically seaplanes—they’re shooting blanks! They’re just a distraction! Tell the men to focus on the ground! He’s planning to pull something big while the cops are tied up with this, and you can take that to the bank!”

He was half right.

At this point in time, the seaplanes were no more than a distraction.

However, there was something Victor hadn’t realized yet: Melvi had set this up so he could greet Firo without police interference, and it had nothing to do with Huey’s experiment.

In addition, the seaplanes that were currently wreaking havoc were only a fraction of the aircraft held by Time, which Huey had on standby out on the Atlantic.

Somewhere in New York

“Teacher, there’s a whole lot of noise out there. Is the house going to be okay?”

The speaker was a boy whose face wasn’t quite out of childhood.

The man who responded was doing maintenance on a large quantity of guns. “Let it be, Apprentice One. I can tell from the sound. Those are blanks.”

With his eyes fixed on the countless gleaming gun components, the man—Smith—went on calmly. “Never mind that. Graham went to pick up that Ladd fellow, and it’s about time for him to get home… Ladd, Ladd, Ladd. That rotten murderer is another ludicrous fool who, like me, is possessed by the flower of insanity. The lunatic bloom that graces him attracts only poisonous insects, though. That’s because he has no sense of aesthetics. On that point, my—”

The rest of his sentence was completely drowned out by an airplane that flew right past the building.

Interrupted, Smith clicked his tongue and muttered:

“Rgh…! Bunch of uncultured louts.”

Chané’s hideout

“Oho…” After hearing a report one of his subordinates had stopped by to deliver, Huey turned to Chané, who was gazing out the window. “Chané, it sounds as though Hilton, the spy, has located an old friend of ours.”

“?”

An old friend? Could it be Spike?

That traitor.

I didn’t trust him to begin with, and if he’s Father’s enemy, I’ll dispose of—

That was what Chané thought, but… The name she actually heard was one she’d just been thinking of a few moments ago and had never expected to hear at a time like this.

“Nader Schasschule.”

“?!”

“The man who once betrayed the Lemures. The one whose right hand you cut off. He’s alive, here in town.”

As Huey relayed that information, he seemed rather entertained. He wasn’t trying to manipulate his daughter. From his expression, he was simply looking forward to seeing what Chané would do once she knew about this.

Under her father’s gaze, Chané lowered her eyes and thought.

I see.

That was when my gears slipped—because I didn’t properly dispose of Nader.

However, that had nothing to do with anything now… And yet, in the depths of her heart, Chané had made up her mind.

If she wanted to regain her former sharp edge—she probably needed to kill Nader.

If I find him here in town, I won’t fail to cut him down this time.

I’ll do it without feeling a thing. As if I’m taking out the trash.

Somewhere in New York

“What the hell…? What’s going on here?!”

As he looked up at the airplanes flying every which way, Nader kept on running, with no destination in mind.

When they let him out of the pen, had he stumbled into a different world? Or had everything he’d seen after he’d lost his right arm and gotten caught in that explosion been a long, long dream? Was his real self still buried under the rubble, on the brink of death?

His delusions nearly trapped him, but he almost wished he was hallucinating all of this. What if this is a dream a much younger me is seeing…? Would I get the chance to do everything over?

Nader remembered the promise he’d exchanged with his childhood friend, and the next thing he knew, he was crying as he ran.

I don’t know.

Hey, c’mon, somebody tell me.

How do you get to be a hero?

How can a guy like me…become one of those?

He had no idea that at this very moment, Chané Laforet was steeling herself for a fight with him. Unable to be the hero he’d promised to become, he kept wandering through the streets.

Inside the bundle he’d made of his jacket, he’d acquired a bare hint of strength in the form of a small fortune.

He didn’t know how to use that strength.

The one and only thing he could do was keep wandering.

Somewhere in New York

“Look, Miria! Airplanes!”

“Yes, it’s Charles! Augustus! Lindbergh!”

On their way to a certain job that Molsa had found for them, Isaac and Miria spotted the seaplanes, which were just pulling out of New York.

After flying very low through the canyons between the buildings, the planes’ silhouettes vanished over the horizon of the starry sky. The afternoon’s thin cloud cover had cleared long ago, and it seemed to be blessing the planes as they climbed.

That romantic sight plunged Isaac and Miria into excited conversation.

“By the way, we’ve pulled a train robbery, but we’ve never robbed a plane, have we? We’ve turned over a new leaf, so I’m not planning to try it, but still.”

“Say, Isaac, what do you do during a plane robbery?”

“Well, you know. You steal what’s important to planes.”

“What’s important to them?”

Isaac mulled over that basic question for a little while. “…The sky?”

It was an extremely straightforward answer.

“Ohhh, you’re right! If there was no sky, they’d be in big trouble!”

“Right… Meaning we’d erase the sky from the world!”

“How spectacular! But, Isaac, where does the sky start, and where does it end?”

Isaac answered this second fundamental question with no hesitation at all. “Well, it’s wherever a plane can fly.”

“But those airplanes were flying reeeeally low.”

“…How can this be…? You mean we’re already in the sky?! Then, since airplanes fly so low here, couldn’t you say New York is a city in the air?!”

“Yes, Machu Picchu! Balnibarbi’s Laputa! The Dragon Palace!”

Miria was excited, and neither she nor Isaac noticed that half her examples were wrong.

“I see… We’ve got a really clear sense of the sky now, thanks to the airplanes. The brothers Wright were truly incredible… Okay, Miria, let’s be grateful to the airplanes! We can’t steal from them! I’m glad we’ve turned over a new leaf! What a fantastic feeling!”

“Yes, we’re on top of the world!”

With a conversation more suited to children than adults, the pair took off running through the dark clouds that enveloped New York.

They hadn’t realized they’d been pulled into a chaotic vortex, and they probably never would.

After all, to them, all of life was a new discovery. It was chaos itself, and it brimmed over with darkness and light simultaneously.

Regardless of whether they realized it or not, as the planes’ crazy ruckus subsided, a mantle of deep darkness was falling over the city of New York.

Late at night In the darkness

In a villa managed by the Runorata Family, Melvi entered a private room that faced the courtyard. He turned off all the lights and lay down on the bed.

Felix, his bodyguard, only accompanied him when he left the villa. There were several dozen mafiosi in the mansion, and right now, a guard protected him.

Somehow, a voice spoke to him.

“Hello there. You were very ostentatious today, Melvi.”

It came from a corner of the pitch-black room.

Melvi could hear the curtains swaying. Clearly, someone had slipped past the guards and infiltrated the villa. However, without getting the least bit flustered, Melvi answered the darkness.

“It was nothing important, my master.”

“I see, I see. Still, your guard this afternoon was impressive. I genuinely had no opportunity to get close to you.”

“Yes, his abilities surprised me as well.”

The darkness responded with a muffled chuckle, then informed Melvi of a certain fact: “My own plans should be in motion soon. They may end up clashing with what you’re doing. If that happens, well, I would appreciate if you didn’t resent me for it.”

“But of course. You are the master here. I merely do what you say. If you tell me to die, I’ll obediently present my head to an immortal’s right hand.” He was still lying on the bed; only his words were courteous.

“…Not ‘gladly,’ but ‘obediently.’ How very like you. It’s marvelous. Well, what I want is for you to make use of your position, do as you please, and disrupt the situation.”

“……”

“Also, as I’m constantly telling you, I don’t like being addressed as ‘master.’ It’s so stiff.”

The darkness gave a stifled laugh, then continued, amused.

“You know my name. Give me a nickname or abbreviate it; you may call me whatever you like. Isn’t that what I said?”

“…In that case, I shall call you master.”

“Ha-ha! Intractable fellow!”

Then silence fell.

After its quiet burst of laughter, the darkness didn’t say another word. From the fact that Melvi couldn’t hear the curtain stirring anymore, the presence had probably left the room.

Once he was sure of that, Melvi erased the smile he’d plastered across his face all day—and fell into a deep sleep.

He had to rest his heart to prepare for the artificial smile he’d hide behind tomorrow.

New York Fred’s clinic

After so much running after the airplanes and waving, Isaac and Miria had gotten lost. By the time they reached the site of the job Molsa had found for them, it was past midnight.

“Say, Isaac? This sign says they’re not seeing patients today.”

“Um, Molsa said it was okay if we just went on in.”

Even though it was the middle of the night, there were lights on in the clinic. As the two of them wandered around in front of the door, not sure what to do, a young man poked his head out. “Oh. Are you the ones the owner of Alveare said he was sending to help out? They called ahead and filled us in, but you’re real late. Uh… Y’know, I think I’ve seen you two before, somewhere… Well, whatever.”

After examining the pair for a little while, he gave a little sigh and went on. “I’m Who. It may be a job, but we’re not gonna make you do any doctor-type stuff, so don’t worry about that.”

At that point, Who broke off and called to a figure that had appeared behind Isaac and Miria. “Hey. Perfect timing, fella. Where’d you go? Oh, here, I’ll introduce you. These are the two who are going to be helping us out.”

Responding to Who’s words, Isaac and Miria turned around and greeted the newcomer.

“I’m Isaac! I’m looking forward to working with you!”

“I’m Miria. It’s a pleasure!”

The pair introduced themselves without any hesitation, and the man gave them a soft smile. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you. Fred here is taking care of me. My name is Le… Le……”

The man faltered, then went very still.

It was almost as if his mouth had moved against his will.

His face went blank for a moment. Then, beneath the thick fringe of hair that covered his eyes, the man smiled and gave his name again. “Beg pardon. My name is Lebreau Fermet Viralesque. The pleasure’s mine.”

“…Huh? Was that what your name was?” Who looked perplexed.

“Yes,” the man said confidently. “It is the one I gave you earlier.”

Hiding his darkness behind a false smile, the man began to incorporate this abrupt pair of immortals into his plan.

Little did he know that, for better or worse, his choice would end up drastically changing the course of destiny.

On that day, a variety of people were pulled into the seething chaos.

They were all under the same sky, and in that sense, they certainly were standing on the same stage.

People gathered, and as they did, fate boiled down and thickened.

Ultimately, who would be the one to steal the pure fragments this distillation produced?

Who, among the countless gathered cards, would become the joker to whom?

No one knew yet. Not the city of New York. Not even the demon himself.

As each individual clutched their chips in their hands, the curtain was about to quietly rise on the hour of the gamble—and all the churning desires that came with it.