48. Return

I’d come up with a decent ship name, so I was able to lounge through the final three months before return, relaxed as ever. Maria had, by now, become a proper angler. Whenever I was writing, she’d slip away on her own, stocking up on fish.

And today, at last, Agirakana completed its round-trip journey of twenty-four thousand light-years and returned to the Sol system. Technically, Agirakana wasn’t returning—it was making its first visit to the Sol system—but for me, it was homecoming.

I’m Agirakana’s captain, though I don’t pilot the ship. I sit in the raised command chair in the vast central command chamber, where I’ve only recently reappeared, listening distantly to the operator’s voice, waiting for the moment the ship jumps out—when the gray screen ahead will finally reveal the cosmos.

“Agrakana, returning to normal space. Thirty, twenty-nine, …… ten, nine, eight, …… two, one, now!”

The gray screen flared to life, revealing the cosmos—streaked with the glittering brilliance of distant stars.

Last time, a blinding, icy-white neutron star had dominated the center of the screen, its glare so intense that the background stars had nearly vanished. Now, in contrast, the pitch-black expanse before them shimmered with countless stars—gazing upon it, the mind inexplicably settled. It had been nearly twelve and a half years since the last time—ma(・)to(・)mo(・)na cosmos.

Behind me, seated at the captain’s chair, young Maria stood watch. When I glanced back, she was fixed on the forward screen, utterly still. It was likely her first time seeing the real sky—outside of simulation. No surprise there.

“……Agrakana, full ship status nominal.”

"Distance to Earth: twenty astronomical units. No margin of error."

"Maintaining this distance from the Sun, Agirakana will accelerate and temporarily enter the Sun's orbital path."

At this distance from the Sun, the trajectory roughly aligns with that of Uranus.

"Transmitting Agirakana's return to Assault Landing Ship AA-0001—Blazer and the Embassy."

Among the countless stars projected on the large screen, the one most conspicuously bright at the center—likely the Sun. Unfortunately, Earth's location remains entirely indiscernible.

"Your Excellency, a communication has arrived from Ain on Earth."

"Surprised. I didn't expect you back so soon—five months after the operation concluded."

"Someone from the Exploration Division developed an incredible piece of technology. Thanks to it, we’re now achieving jump navigation speeds roughly forty times faster than before. I can’t understand the details myself, nor explain them—ask a specialist. Anything else?"

"A problem has arisen that requires reporting to the captain. It would be best if you returned here as soon as possible."

"Understood."

Given that there had been no significant developments worth reporting during the Zeno operation’s pre- and post- phases with Ain, this must be something that surfaced in the past four or five months. The tone suggests it isn’t urgent—certainly not a crisis. As for Agirakana, leaving it to the senior staff should suffice. No special instructions needed. I’ll return promptly.

Maria and I boarded the Light Cruiser LC-0002—Crain, which was directly docked at the first pier of the first spaceport designated for Agirakana’s captain. We were hurrying to Earth. Maria’s uniform collar was edged in red—the color denoting direct affiliation with the space navy—and two silver buttons marked her rank as major on the left side. Major, meaning she held the same rank as the captain of this light cruiser, Crain.

In the central command chamber of Crain, as expected, we were greeted by the captain and all subordinate officers. I took my seat in the fleet commander’s chair, and we set course for Earth. Ten hours or so, at most.

The fact that the massive spacecraft hovering over Tokyo isn’t Agirakana is probably already suspected by Earth’s governments, but they likely still have no clear idea of just how large the Spacecraft Nation Agirakana actually is—so I decided it was time to acclimate them to the sight of multiple large spacecraft and had Crane positioned in Earth’s satellite orbit.

Ten hours to Earth—figuring that having someone like me loitering around the Command Room would make the staff feel cramped, I quickly brought Maria along and retreated to the Control Room, from which I contacted Ain and inquired about the 'issue' he’d reported earlier.

"I’m currently aboard the Light Cruiser LC-0002, en route to Earth. The problem Ain mentioned a moment ago—is it something I can’t discuss right now?"

Not a matter of great concern, but there are subtle issues at play—so I judged it best to discuss them directly.

Understood. I’ll have the fleet direct the light cruiser into Earth’s orbit—inform the nations so they don’t panic. Arrival at Earth time, 4:00 p.m.

Understood. We’ll relay the message to the各国 through the Japanese Government.

……

From the Cabinet Office: "The regular Press Conference by the Cabinet Secretary will be moved forward by one hour, now scheduled for 3 PM."

At the Press Conference held in the cabinet office briefing room, following the announcement, Cabinet Secretary Hakozaki Susumu bowed slightly to the national flag before beginning. Normally, press conferences proceed with journalists asking questions, but this time, the Cabinet Secretary spoke first.

"Journalists, I would like to inform you. At noon today, the Embassy of Agirakana in Japan contacted the Japanese Government, reporting that around four o’clock this afternoon, an Agirakana spacecraft would enter Earth’s satellite orbit at an altitude of four hundred kilometers. The vessel is a white sphere, seventy-two meters in diameter, and is said to complete one orbit around Earth in approximately one hour and thirty minutes. Upon receiving this notification, the Japanese Government has informed other governments accordingly. Any questions?"

"Moruzuki from the Tōchō Shimbun."

"Please go ahead."

"I would like to ask about the 'Iris Viewing Gathering,' scheduled for May, hosted by the Prime Minister..."

Even the Cabinet Secretary seemed unable to suppress a wry smile at the sheer tone-deafness, the palpable sense of being utterly out of place. Moruzuki, seemingly oblivious to the resigned glances from the other reporters, continued cheerfully, as ever. Japan, one way or another, was a peaceful country.

As per the notice from the Agirakana Embassy, at 4:00 p.m. Japan time, the Light Cruiser LC-0002-Crane entered Earth orbit at an altitude of 400 kilometers. Unlike the sudden appearance of the assault landing vessel AA-0001-Blazer over Tokyo fifteen years prior, this time the arrival was observed calmly and without disruption, thanks to prior communication reaching all national governments.

The news media had already informed the public about Agirakana’s large spacecraft orbiting Earth, and this time, reports emphasized that the vessel would be visible to the naked eye. As a result, countless people looked up from the ground or from rooftops, where they saw a white speck—resembling a bean—appear in the sky. Measuring roughly one-fifth the diameter of the full moon, it was not immediately noticeable, lacking dramatic impact. Yet the white speck, emerging in the southern sky, moved east to west at a noticeable pace, keeping observers engaged—no one seemed to grow bored.

Three days after Agirakana entered the Sun’s orbital path and began circling it, NASA’s optical observation satellite accidentally captured the mysterious planet using a large-aperture reflecting telescope. Its distance from Earth was approximately 20 astronomical units, with a diameter of roughly 14,000 kilometers. Given that no object of this scale had ever been observed before, speculation immediately arose that it had just appeared within the solar system. A comparison with past observational records confirmed that the object had not existed one month earlier.

Countries had apparently expected some sort of comment from Agirakana—none came. If anything, the silence seemed to reassure world leaders.