CHAPTER 13
The Precision of Group Fortune-Telling
Fourth Friday of August
About ten girls, all with the exact same face, had been admitted to a certain hospital in School District 7 of Academy City. They were the Sisters—military-use clones made with a certain Level Five esper’s somatic cells. Drugs and various techniques had forcibly accelerated their growth, shortening their life spans as a result. To overcome that, one doctor of questionable repute had been personally making “adjustments” to them here and there.
As for their actual appearance, they had fair skin, brown eyes, and brown hair, and they wore Tokiwadai Middle School’s summer uniform, consisting of an ash-colored pleated skirt, a white blouse, and a beige summer sweater. Nothing necessitated that they all wear the same clothing just because they were clones, but that was how they all were now, whether it was because of the effects of the brain wave network linking their minds together or their personalities having all been leveled out during the clone creation process.
Right now, they were in what the hospital called the Clinical Research Area. It wasn’t exactly cordoned off, but it was located in an odd place, built quite far from the route connecting the main hospital building and other necessary facilities so that nobody would wander into it by chance.
Four Misakas—numbers 10032, 10039, 13577, and 19090—were standing there idly in the small waiting room set up in a corner of the Clinical Research Area’s hallway. The only things here were a perfunctory sofa and table, a few magazines meant purely for passing the time, and a rack for those magazines thrown in for good measure. The four clone girls, having plucked one issue from the stack, had it open to a certain page, which they were staring at veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery carefully.
It was the horoscope section.
Far from the genuine (?) occult fortune-telling, this was the kind of column that could be found in every magazine; they were always buried in the pages somewhere, as common as pickled ginger paired with sushi. The page was separated into twelve sections, each giving a simple overview for each sign regarding general things, like what would bring fortune or misfortune, health, or luck with money or romance, plus a lucky color and a lucky item.
“If we convert Misaka’s production date into Greek zodiac format, it would give…”
Number 10032—also called “Little Misaka” by a certain spiky-haired boy—focused on her own fortune.
This month you’ll have an AMAZING chance to change up your job! If you’ve ever wanted to say good-bye to that awful boss you see on a daily basis, now’s the time!!
“……”
Job changes meant literally nothing to a mass-production clone made for military purposes. Number 10032 cocked her head slightly.
The other Sisters seemed to have generally similar reactions as they each read the horoscope section corresponding to their manufacturing date, with some of them tracing the text with their fingers.
“Can the Misakas truly gain benefit from such uncertain information? says Misaka number 10039, giving voice to her question.”
“In what way, exactly, will this ‘lucky item’ bring fortune to Misaka? I wonder, says Misaka number 13577, deciding for now to search for a keychain with a cat on it anyway.”
“Th-this month’s luck in romance is minus five—but that’s impossible, says Misaka number 19090, requesting a do-over.”
Number 19090 spoke in an oddly mumbling voice for some reason, but the other girls weren’t about to worry over such a thing. Number 10032 suddenly brought her face up, as though she’d just realized something.
“…Before anything else, when should we consider our birth to have occurred? says Misaka number 10032, conducting a reaffirmation of fundamental definition settings.”
“?”
“It is true that our manufacturing dates are tied to the exact time we were removed from our cultivators, but not all ten thousand Misakas were pulled from these containers at exactly the same time—we were shipped after we had matured to the physical age of fourteen via drugs and other such things, says Misaka number 10032, adding a long-winded supplementary explanation.”
“Which would make our birth similar to a daughter who grew to fourteen years old in her mother’s womb, in human terms, before actually exiting, says Misaka number 10039, deciding to go along with what the Misaka next to her is saying.”
“…Well, can’t we just assume that the exact time that we came out of our mother’s womb is also our time of birth, regardless of how much we matured beforehand? says Misaka number 13577, transmitting a differing opinion.”
“No, we Misakas must have been inside several different machines depending on our development stages, so how would we classify such cases? says Misaka number 19090, as her mind fills with question marks.”
The Sisters continued to mutter, mumble, and whisper their conversation.
“Or perhaps the date we should commemorate for our emergence should be the day approval was granted for the production project planned based on all Misakas’ DNA mapping, says Misaka number 10032, offering a different idea.”
“In human terms, would that not correspond to the date our father and mother engaged in intercourse? argues Misaka number 10039.”
“Actually, would that not correspond to the date the sperm was created inside the father’s body prior to intercourse? says Misaka, tracing back in time.”
“Pfft, says Misaka number 19090, deciding for now to make her astonishment at the recent trend in the conversation clear.”
The Sisters were even equipped to process witty retort functions by themselves.
Then, Misaka number 10032 rubbed her temples with her fingers. “…Actually, the project to manufacture us Misakas was split into two steps: the Radio Noise project and the Level Six Shift project, if I recall correctly, says Misaka number 10032, making the matter even more tangled up in her mind. Which project should we even refer to the acceptance date of?”
“Oh, well—is it not true that it is always preferable to refer to the earlier? says Misaka number 10039, offering her own predictive information in a vague manner.”
“Strictly speaking, because these two projects possess different characteristics—the former in its aim for a perfected Level Five and the latter in its demand to mass-produce experimental subjects—it may be rather difficult to determine definitions for this matter, says Misaka number 13577, quietly spurring confusion where none was asked for.”
“Come to think of it, I wonder where Ao Amai’s number 00000, Full Tuning, who was severed from the network, is right now and what she is doing, says Misaka number 19090, introducing a new piece of foreshadowing.”
After finally throwing their hands up in the air, concluding that horoscopes made no sense, they settled on a forward-looking perspective that they would carve out destinies for themselves with their own hands.
“…But then Misaka found this, says Misaka number 10032, presenting even further kindling for the fire.”
“““?”””
The other three girls turned to her and saw that in number 10032’s hands was a different magazine from the one they’d been using. Flipped to a page near the back, it had a certain column in it, with even less space on the page granted to it than the horoscopes.
It was blood-type fortune-telling.
“…What could they be up to?” said a baffled young nurse who had been observing the four girls from a short distance away.
Next to her, a frog-faced doctor, after sipping some coffee from a paper cup, said, “It looks like they’re having an argument, hmm?”
“Well, yes, but that isn’t what I meant. Actually, I’ll just say it again. What are they doing?”
Even as their exchange continued, the four girls with the exact same face continued their own discussion.
“What! The luck in romance for type AB is exceptional! reports Misaka number 10032!!”
“If you’re going to say that, then Misaka, being type AB, is exceptional as well! reports Misaka number 10039!”
“No! This Misaka, as a super-type AB above all other Misakas, is super-exceptional! says Misaka super-number 13577, snatching victory for herself!!”
“No, no, the one who will have the last laugh is this Misaka, says Misaka number 19090, declaring her hegemony over the AB world!!”
Hair was being pulled, clothes were being yanked, magazines were being stolen, panties were being exposed—it was a chaotic free-for-all.
The young nurse’s face was one of blank amazement. “Those girls—they convert brain waves into electronic signals to form one giant network, right?”
“Ah, you’re referring to the Misaka network?”
“Wouldn’t that also mean that while they each have their own identities, because the giant network itself functions as one large brain, each of them is under interference from a single overarching will?”
“Yes, I suppose you could put it like that, hmm?”
“…Then how are they having an argument?”
That was what the young nurse seemed incapable of grasping.
The frog-faced doctor stuck out his tongue—the coffee was a little too bitter for him. “Regular people are always picking one action from several choices. For example, when dieting, they might have two thoughts at the same time when presented with a slice of cake: that they want to eat it even if they put on weight and that they don’t want to eat it because they’ll put on weight.”
“Um, right.”
“Well, regular people just have to whittle down the options in their head one by one, then output the final remaining choice as their action. We only have one body, so even if we have multiple viewpoints, we still have to commit to a single action in reality, hmm?”
“Then you’re saying it’s…?”
“Yes. In their case, since one overarching will is influencing multiple physical bodies, there’s no need for them to converge on a single thought process. For them, everything is valid. Eating the cake despite getting fat and not eating it because you’ll get fat—they don’t have to pick just one. They can choose both. They have multiple bodies to act on it, right?”
“……”
The young nurse looked again at the girls, whose panties were now fully exposed. Could she currently be witnessing an incredibly valuable sight?
“As a result, the same influence on the girls from the one overarching will is only going in one direction—each of the specimens is beginning to acquire distinct behavioral tendencies. That’s why they can have conversations with other Misakas and fight with them. Isn’t that a good thing? From a human perspective?”
The frog-faced doctor didn’t seem to mind it very much.
As he ran his fingers down the paper cup with the bitter coffee in it, he said the next thing in a way that could have been taken as neglectful.
“Let’s just pray that they eventually mature into full-fledged individuals.”
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