Is This Fate?

Natarle knew that ZAFT had carried out a massive espionage purge not long ago.

He even knew ninety percent of the details and inside information about the operation because he had helped plan it.

So he knew very well how many people the purge had uncovered.

The operation had swept up and turned nearly every spy in a high-ranking position.

And that was one of the reasons ZAFT had won the L5 Nova Defense Battle.

But none of that was the point.

The point was the conclusions and likelihoods he could infer from it about Eno Kamal.

Before, he hadn't understood why Eno had chosen to become a Mobile Suit pilot after ranking first in the command program. Now he did.

Suppose Eno Kamal was an independent spy who had lost contact with his handler.

If he sensed danger, what could he do to protect himself?

Putting himself in Eno's shoes, there were only two possible answers.

Either flee PLANT or defect to ZAFT.

The first was all but impossible. Once a spy was under suspicion, there was no way to escape surveillance.

So he had only one option—defect to protect himself.

As a cadet, the best way to do that was to completely cut off any chance of entering the military's upper ranks. Only then could he keep the higher-ups from deciding they had to kill him.

So leaving the command program was essential.

But after making his death less necessary, how could he improve his chances of survival?

A spy with value could sell information. A few spies had survived that way.

But Eno Kamal was only an independent spy. He had no source of information to offer.

In that situation, the only thing he could put on the table was his own life.

So his best choice was to join the Mobile Suit pilot program and become ZAFT's "cannon fodder"—preferably the kind that was tough enough to be useful.

Of course, even after doing all that, he still couldn't decide for himself whether he would die. But it was the most he could do.

Putting it all together, though he hated to believe it, the facts were clear—there was virtually a one-hundred-percent chance that Eno Kamal was a spy.

That was enough to sentence him to death.

"I know what I have to do."

Chief of Staff Natarle forced back his grief and managed a bitter smile.

Eno Kamal, the successor he had pinned his hopes for the future on, was a spy. How cruelly ironic—and how ridiculous.

"I accepted his 'defection.' I'm willing to give him a chance, and he still has value as someone worth keeping alive."

But just then, Patrick Zala voiced the opposite opinion.

"A chance?"

Natarle's thoughts were in disarray, and he couldn't quite make sense of what Patrick meant.

Patrick Zala saw Natarle's confusion and continued, "I don't actually mind spies inside ZAFT."

As frustrating as it was, the reality was that ZAFT could never completely purge the spies within its ranks.

PLANT's population and the way it had been established meant that ZAFT was bound to harbor spies it could never root out.

Or rather, ever since humans had been able to communicate through speech, their society had been unable to shut out spies and informants.

Even during the Third World War, when people held absolute convictions about their country, race, and religion, spies could not be eliminated.

There was even less chance of doing so in the present era.

So the only thing they could do was ensure that the upper ranks were clean.

"What are you telling me all this for?"

Chief of Staff Natarle had given up trying to think it through.

"I know what Eno Kamal means to you. I don't want an irreparable rift to form between us."

Patrick Zala valued Natarle greatly.

If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have bothered with an assassination attempt or a disguise. He would have simply killed the boy in broad daylight. After all, he was only a genius who ranked first in the command program.

But Natarle's involvement gave him pause.

Chief of Staff Natarle knew too much. He was a core member of the Zala Faction, and the faction needed his strength. PLANT needed it, too.

So after Eno Kamal made his choice, Patrick gave up on pursuing him any further.

Of course, until Eno Kamal earned their absolute trust, he would remain nothing more than an elite fighting on the front lines.

As for whether he might desert during battle and return to the Earth Alliance, Patrick instinctively looked toward Le Creuset.

"Thank you. What do I need to do?"

Chief of Staff Natarle's thoughts were still somewhat muddled.

"Nothing. You will remain Chief of Staff Natarle Badgiruel, in charge of ZAFT's staff office, and Eno Kamal will remain a Mobile Suit cadet at the ZAFT Military Academy."

Patrick Zala continued, "I want you to understand that I'm telling you all this not because I expect you to do anything, but because I want you to do nothing."

"I understand."

Chief of Staff Natarle understood what Patrick Zala was implying.

"Thank you for understanding."

Patrick Zala nodded.

"Then... what is Eno Kamal's fate now that we know who he is?"

Chief of Staff Natarle forced down his bitterness and asked.

At Natarle's question, Patrick Zala raised his brows and met his gaze. After a moment, he said, "For now, only the three of us know his identity."

Then he looked toward Le Creuset. "So from here on, Eno Kamal is in your hands."

"Understood."

Le Creuset had suspected as much when he entered the room that day, so he wasn't particularly surprised.

"The Le Creuset Team, then. It really is a good choice."

Natarle could more or less guess why Patrick had arranged things that way, and he felt a quiet sense of relief.

Patrick thought highly of Le Creuset, so having him keep an eye on Eno was undoubtedly the best outcome.

Of course, if Eno Kamal still had the instincts of a thief and tried to return to the Earth Alliance, then—

"I've read Eno Kamal's file. Leaving aside his identity as a spy, he really is an exceptionally talented person."

Le Creuset wasn't lying.

There was no reason to lie, of course. The facts spoke for themselves: in less than two months, Eno had gone from a complete beginner to thirteenth place overall in his school's Mobile Suit pilot program.

And he had already ranked first overall in the command program. If that file and those results didn't count as exceptional, then there weren't many exceptional people in all of ZAFT.

About five minutes later.

Le Creuset and Chief of Staff Natarle left the defense office.

Just as Natarle was about to get into his car downstairs, he stopped Le Creuset. "I'll be leaving it to you from here on, Captain Le Creuset."

"Everything I do will be aimed at securing victory for PLANT."

Le Creuset didn't give him a direct answer, but he did address Natarle's unease indirectly.

"Thank you."

After receiving his answer, Chief of Staff Natarle got into his official car and drove away.

"...What a lucky fellow."

Thinking over the path Eno Kamal had taken to survive, Le Creuset couldn't help marveling at his good fortune.

If Chief of Staff Natarle's wife and child hadn't both died at Junius...

If Chief of Staff Natarle hadn't seen a future in Eno Kamal...

If Eno Kamal hadn't immediately chosen to change programs and had no outstanding talent as a Mobile Suit pilot...

So many impossible-to-imagine "ifs" had allowed a spy who should have died to be reborn.

"So this is what you call fate, Gilbert..."

Le Creuset suddenly thought of the word his close friend was always using.

But if this really was something called fate, it was terrifying beyond words.