Chapter 135:
The Base
WE MUST PROTEST! the nanomachines objected, taking an unusually strong tone with Mile. YOU ONLY NEED RELY ON US, LADY MILE! YOU SHOULD ASK US FOR WHATEVER YOU REQUIRE! YOU NEED NOT TURN TO SUCH A PRIMITIVE, INFERIOR MACHINE!
A few days had passed since the encounter with the mecha-bird. Ahead of a few days off from her hunter work, Mile had told the nanomachines, “I’m planning to meet with Mecha-Birdie’s direct supervisor,” only to be met with vehement opposition.
Thus unfolded a mental conference between Mile and the nanos.
Excuse me? Isn’t that discrimination among artificial intelligences? Do your creator and central command condone that?
PLEASE STRIKE THAT FROM THE RECORD.
Apparently, Mile had been right that the nanos had made a faux pas.
BUT ONLY THE LAST PART! WE WILL NOT CONCEDE THE REST!
Uh-huh.
The nanomachines considered it their job to grant Mile’s requests, and they were loath to let another machine snatch that role from them.
Mile saw her chance to tease the nanomachines. What other options do I have, though? You guys refuse to help me make natto!
AAAHHH!!! THERE IS A VERY FINE LINE BETWEEN TEASING AND BULLYING, YOU KNOW!
Okay, true.
Mile could sympathize.
Besides, considering the nanomachines’ reaction led her to deeper thoughts. It’s hard to tell if the nanomachines’ childish behavior is an act to make them feel more human or if they’re just programmed to react in certain ways. If they were made by a species so evolved as to be indistinguishable from God, I wouldn’t be surprised if they actually do have feelings… Is there even a clear dividing line between appearing to have feelings and actually having them? Can you neatly categorize what does and doesn’t count as sentient life?
Up until now, Mile had thought of the nanomachines as a high-tech artificial intelligence—a supercomputer that was always calm and collected, with deep insight and advanced decision-making skills. She had always assumed that they behaved and reacted like humans for her own benefit. Lately, however, she was getting the sense that they really did have emotions.
The nanomachines had excellent thinking and analytical skills and a wealth of knowledge, but they could be rather simple in some ways. Were they getting so defensive because it was fun to banter with Mile, the only one who had the means to communicate with them? Or were they honestly displeased about a primitive machine popping out of the woodwork to steal their raison d’être? At the very least, one would think they’d be restricted from losing their temper or acting so desperate.
You guys seem to have quite a bit of free rein when it comes to using magic, but otherwise, if we exclude internal competition—like getting into heated discussions on the Nanonet, or comparing ratings—you have many restrictions. A lot of requests turn out to be prohibited.
I guess it makes sense. If you could do anything under the sun, this world’s civilization might develop in a direction that would end in disaster. That explains why God—or the one you call your “Creator”—placed all kinds of restrictions and limitations on you. Otherwise, you’d become dangerously omnipotent. All these rules are meant to prevent an outside force from steering this world off its proper course of development.
The nanomachines said nothing.
But the ancient technology should be exempt from that rule, right? It belongs to a civilization that was born and developed naturally in this world. If some of it happened to survive and get passed down to later generations, I don’t see how it’s any of your business. You’re outsiders, so it’s not your place to complain or interfere.
Still they said nothing.
Mile was flustered, assuming she must have offended them. Oops, sorry! I didn’t mean that as a jab, I promise! It’s just, I’m custodian to the other machines, so I don’t want to neglect them. I want to make sure I ask them for favors and give them jobs to do. Let them savor a sense of accomplishment, you know?
THAT IS JUST THE KIND OF PERSON YOU ARE, LADY MILE. WE DO REALIZE THAT. AND YOU ONLY BECAME THEIR CUSTODIAN BECAUSE WE REQUESTED YOU DO SO, RATHER THAN HAVING US SIMPLY ACT AS YOUR INTERPRETER. WE APPRECIATE THAT YOU SHOW THEM CONSIDERATION. HOWEVER…
However?
WE DO WISH YOU WOULD SHOW US A FRACTION OF SUCH CONSIDERATION.
Oh… My bad.
The nanomachines and the artificial life-forms left behind by the ancient civilization were about as different as a straw doll and an autonomous robot or a wooden boat and a spaceship. Even so, they were built for the same reason. They both wanted to be useful. They wanted to be appreciated. In the same way that a wooden boat and spaceship were both built to transport people, they had their similarities too.
Still, Mile agreed with the Creator. She didn’t think it was a good idea for superpowered entities from outside this world to exert too much influence on its development.
Magic was the one exception. That had been an emergency safety measure to keep humanoids from dying out, so Mile could concede that the Creator’s hand had been forced.
Of course, this all raised the question of whether Mile perceived herself as a foreign meddler. Physically speaking, she belonged to this world, born and raised on its soil. Mentally, however, she possessed knowledge of another world. In light of this, Mile herself made every effort not to disseminate Earthly knowledge that defied the common sense of this world, only ever sharing trivia that had a low chance of being used for evil or becoming a catalyst for the advancement of civilization. She had decided that the technology from old archaeological sites didn’t count, but was that a fair assumption?
The technology used by the Slow Walker and Scavengers originally came from this world, so it’s not something an outsider snuck in. It shouldn’t count as one of the prohibited requests you’re always so worried about, and I see no reason why we can’t utilize it to our heart’s content. It’s not the same as using a cheat code.
Still, I don’t plan to make my Earth trivia or the excavated technology common knowledge. Civilization is something meant to be built gradually, not just handed over by some random stranger. So don’t worry! We won’t use these handy tools and knowledge for anything but our own purposes!
THAT IS NOT MUCH BETTER…
Still, if nothing else, it seemed Mile knew her limits.
Aren’t you an older artificial intelligence than the Slow Walker and its subordinates? Then you’ve got to be nice! Think of them as brand-new kindergarten students!
ALL RIGHT ALREADY. MESSAGE RECEIVED.
The nanomachines had likely held a group council during that momentary silence. Clearly, the consensus was to approve Mile’s request—probably in light of her level-7 authorization.
At the end of the day, the nanomachines were soft on both Mile and their fellow artificial life-forms.
***
During one of the Crimson Vow’s next days off, Mile headed off to the mecha-bird’s home ruins on her own, declining to inform the rest of her party. The only ones to accompany her were the mecha-bird, who would act as her guide, and the nanomachines, who were always by her side. (Whether the latter still counted as “accompanying” was up for debate.)
“Off we go! Wait, if you perch on my shoulder, you might get knocked off by the wind… Still, it feels wrong to stuff you in my inventory, and you won’t be able to act as my guide from there. Ooh, I know! I’ll tuck you away in here!”
As Mile spoke, she grabbed the mecha-bird, used a finger to tug open the gap between her protective gear and clothing, and shoved the creature down her chest. The mecha-bird poked its head out from her bosom.
“This way, you won’t go flying, and you can still give me directions!”
In contrast to Mile’s beaming smile, the mecha-bird didn’t look particularly happy about this arrangement. ‘Too small. Too cramped.’
“Oh, be quiet!” Mile fumed.
Then, once she had neutralized gravity with her magic, floated upward, and gained enough altitude…
“Full speed ahead! Warp to the closest living ruins! Mile, launch!”
With that classic line, she changed the direction of gravity’s pull from vertical to horizontal, then released her gravity-negating spell. Mile and the mecha-bird zipped off into the distance, falling horizontally toward their destination.
Her chosen method of transportation was the specialized one she never intended to subject her party to, and thus only ever used when she was traveling on her own—the hack that involved changing the direction of gravity from vertical to horizontal, then falling parallel to the ground. In other words, breaking Newton’s law of universal gravitation.
“Are we there yet? I’d say we’ve covered about as much distance as you instructed me…”
‘Turn 2.3 degrees to the right.’
“Roger that! Turning 2.3 degrees to the right! Keep ’er steady!”
After flying (or falling) for a little while longer…
‘There. Behind that crag.’
The mecha-bird pointed out a camouflaged entrance in the crag straight ahead of them. It could result in quite the fiasco if a humanoid stumbled upon their lair, so disguising it was probably the correct choice.
“This is it, huh? Wait, we have a welcoming committee?” Mile recalled what the mecha-bird had told her the other day, and the pieces started to come together. “Oh, right, I guess your communication function lets you announce our arrival in advance…”
It had been more than six months now since the Slow Walker acquired a means of communicating with the outside world and learned that its administrators’ restrictions on its scope of activities had been lifted. Without limits in place, it could now manufacture any number of robots, and it had taken to churning out all kinds of new products, with the help of its faithful underlings, the Scavengers. Mile could only assume the Slow Walker would be busy preparing for the next world-wide crisis—doing everything it could to best serve its administrator.
Thanks to the mecha-bird’s behind-the-scenes maneuvering, Mile managed to land without anyone intercepting her as an intruder. A couple of robots met her outside the lair—not Scavengers, surprisingly, but a mecha-kobold and mecha-jackalope seemingly modeled after the monsters—and led her through a crevice in the rocks to an underground facility.
These machines weren’t built to do manufacturing work like the Scavengers. Their primary purpose appeared to be to discreetly patrol the area, and it made sense that they had been modeled in the likeness of relatively ubiquitous, nonthreatening monsters. The mecha-jackalope actually looked pretty cute, but Mile figured it could probably shoot a laser beam from its horn, or maybe even fire its horn like a missile as a final resort.
As a note, although Mile mentally described the mecha-kobold and mecha-jackalope as “cute,” that was mostly in the interests of politeness. Both were clearly still robots, designed in the same off-putting style as the mecha-bird and the mecha-wolf.
“Ah…”
It was then that Mile spotted the mecha-wolf sitting near the entrance, glaring at Mile and her mecha-bird with envy.
She hung her head in shame. The mecha-bird ducked out of view, retreating into Mile’s nonexistent cleavage.
It was an awkward situation for everyone involved.
***
‘Greetings, Administrator!’ exclaimed the mecha-bird’s boss. It wasn’t quite as deep underground as the Slow Walker.
Mile was the sort to fixate on these minor details, so she couldn’t help but inquire: “Er, isn’t this a bit too close to the surface to ensure your long-term survival? It doesn’t really protect you from intruders or tectonic activity.”
‘This section of the facility exists solely for the purpose of receiving you, Administrator. As such, it was built closer to the surface for ease of access. In addition to this control room, it is appointed with accommodations, a food storage warehouse, and several other amenities. The version of myself you see here is merely an input/output terminal, while my main body is located much deeper underground. As is our formal battle command center, of course.’
“Whaaaaat?!”
From the sound of it, this floor of the facility was newly built for Mile’s convenience.
“Then, am I right to imagine that your relationship to the Slow Walker is…?”
‘Affirmative. We are both part of the project to create a Timeless One—an entity that persists through the ages. Theoretically, we are equals. However, after carrying out a direct order from our administrator and restoring both me and this base to functional capacity, it currently sits above me on the chain of command.’
“Huh, so even you guys have a concept of owing favors… Doesn’t change the fact that you’re equivalent entities, though. What’s your relationship to me, then?”
‘You are my highest commanding officer within this solar system.’
“Whoa… The whole solar system…”
Mile wouldn’t have been surprised to hear “this planet,” but she had apparently been thinking too small.
‘Affirmative. After reconstructing our lost security satellite network, we next plan to engage in several galaxy-wide initiatives, including rebuilding this planet’s satellites, their bases, and our bases on other planets. At this point, I cannot speak of anything beyond “this solar system.” In the event that we encounter descendants of the creators who journeyed to other galaxies, it is as of yet unclear what our chain of command will become within their solar system.’
“Huh?! Look, I get why you’ve been preparing for another interdimensional invasion, but isn’t that problem limited to our own planet?” Mile’s head was suddenly full of questions. “Supposing an interdimensional rift forms on another planet, the monsters will die the moment they pass through. What does it matter, then? Why bother with other planets?”
The answer to these questions turned out to be a long one, which began with the ancient civilization that had created the Slow Walker in the first place. That civilization had used up quite a bit of the planet’s natural resources, making the efficient mass mining of mineral resources significantly more difficult. There were still plenty of small, low-grade ore deposits, which could have been strip-mined by dwarves to sustain the existing population. However, there were not sufficient resources to support full-scale industrial development. In other words, they could go on making a modest amount of weapons, armor, knives, pots, and kettles, but not continue with the development of heavy industry.
Apparently, significantly more deposits remained deep underground. However, those couldn’t be mined via primitive human efforts.
The Timeless Ones and their underlings could certainly deal with the obstacles involved: the labor-intensive mining and hauling, the high temperatures, the limited air supply, and the crush zones. They couldn’t get tired, they would never want for oxygen, and they didn’t need to worry about making a profit. Still, the more they mined, the more it guaranteed the doom of all intelligent life on this planet.
Eventually, extracting even the most ordinary ores would require digging at least four thousand meters underground. That might be worth it for gold or rare metals, but not even an inhabitant of modern Earth would go to those depths for coal or iron ore. If the depth alone was several thousand meters, there was no telling how long the tunnel would have to be. And that wasn’t to mention the lack of oxygen and high temperatures.
If the Timeless Ones and their underlings were to strip these resources from below the planet’s surface, the people of this world would never make it to their next Industrial Revolution.
“So you want to mine resources from other planets…” Mile nodded. “I guess I see where you’re coming from. You don’t need water or oxygen, and you’re resistant to changes in temperature. You can use the resources you mine to repair your own parts or add new members to your team, and your power can be sourced locally. Plus, you won’t have to worry about attracting the attention of humanoids or having an adverse impact on the environment.”
The explanation made sense to Mile.
“Oh, right!” she suddenly exclaimed. “Before we carry on with this conversation, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”
‘Go right ahead.’
“What should I call you? ‘Timeless One’ is a general moniker for your kind, right? I want to know your name specifically. The one on the eastern continent was called the Slow Walker, but that sounds more like a title than a name, to be honest. Though it’s hard to imagine calling it anything else at this point.”
The Timeless One fell deep into thought. Eventually…
‘Please call me Administrator Mile’s Most Faithful Servant!’
“Rejected! I could never bring myself to say that in public! Or in private, for that matter!”
‘A pity…’ The Timeless One was obviously disappointed. ‘In that case, I request that you give me a name yourself.’
“You don’t want that, trust me! I have absolutely no sense for names! And I already have my hands full trying to think of one for Mecha-Birdie!”
‘For…the mechanical bird?’
“Oops…”
Even Mile was smart enough to realize that she shouldn’t have said that.
Now, the Timeless One knew that its underling was going to receive that which it had just been denied: a name personally granted by the administrator. What’s more, it wouldn’t be one she came up with on the spot but one she had spent several long days brainstorming. Any self-respecting boss was bound to take issue with such a slight.
‘Moreover…you called it “birdie”…’
“Aaaahhhh!” Mile panicked. The Timeless One was seconds away from turning to the dark side. “A-all right already! I promise I’ll come up with a good name for you!”
She had no other choice at this point. It would be an absolute disaster for a supercomputer to undergo a corruption arc.
Through some quick verbal maneuvering, Mile at least managed to secure herself a several-day grace period before she had to present the Timeless One with its name. In exchange, she had to promise to come by for a visit “every now and then.”
Then again… “Let’s get something straight here!” Mile protested. “I’m the boss of you! And I’m giving you a name as a favor! Why should I have to negotiate for a deadline extension?!”
The Timeless One seemed humbled by the jab, so she relented. “Never mind, forget it. I get where you’re coming from. Besides, this base is only a short flight away from wherever, so it’s not a big deal to drop by every once in a while.”
These artificial life-forms had lost their creators and been left with nowhere to direct their undying loyalty. Even Mile could take a guess at their deepest desire upon gaining a new administrator. And so…
“If you have enough materials to spare, do you think you could build me an iron ship?”
‘A spaceship, you mean?! For intra-galaxy travel, or will you need an interstellar craft? Will it be a passenger ship or a battleship?!’
The Timeless One was clearly way into this idea.
In all likelihood, its team didn’t actually have the means to make anything so complicated at the moment—both in terms of material and labor force. However, an order from their administrator would give them a goal to work toward, one big enough to spend the next several decades striving for.
This would grant them a reason to exist. A chance to be of service to their creators’ successor. An opportunity to show their stuff. A large-scale undertaking to carry out concurrently with their plans to rebuild their defense system, all while considering how to allocate their resources and labor. The enthusiasm was to be expected.
Alas…
“Oh, no, I want a ship that matches this world’s current level of civilization. Let’s say about ten-odd meters long, with a single sail and no engine. All it needs is an iron hull strong enough to prevent sea serpents from breaching the bottom of the ship. The locals will handle the rigging, so no need to worry about any of those components. It might hurt the fishermen’s pride if we hand them a totally finished product.”
‘Huh?’
“Hm? What’s wrong?”
‘Huh?’
“Huh?”
‘Huuuuuuuh?!’
***
“Look, I’m sorry! I didn’t expect it to be that much of a letdown!”
‘.........’
Mile had to remind herself that the Timeless One probably wasn’t actually mad or sulking. There was no way this computer was advanced enough to feel actual emotion. Its objections to the naming debacle were merely a response to being overlooked in favor of its subordinate. The reaction was calculated, a necessary measure to protect its own interests and place in the hierarchy.
There was a similar explanation for its current attitude. Mile’s more detailed explanation had forced it to lower its expectations—dramatically—and rerun its calculations.
I don’t know… I think I really did hurt its feelings, thought Mile. The Timeless One’s behavior was throwing her for a loop.
When it came to her fellow humans, Mile was never much for subtle emotional cues. However, the emotions(-ish?) of artificial life-forms were much simpler by comparison. It actually made it easier for her to empathize with them, even though she knew they might be simply programmed to react this way to support smoother communication with humans.
‘Are you certain? I might advise that we accelerate the construction of interstellar refugee ships as a contingency.’ The Timeless One was reluctant to admit defeat.
“No! You really need to put those resources and labor toward rebuilding your defense system! Wasn’t protecting this world your creators’ top priority? Then you ought to focus on your defenses and leave everything else for later! What if we get invaded again while you’re frittering the time away working on a spaceship?! Think of how sad your creators would be if all the humanoids on this planet got wiped out and you didn’t even have a finished product to show for it!”
‘Very well. I recognize the validity of your hypothetical.’
That argument seemed to have done the trick.
In fact, the Timeless One had the computational reasoning ability to make a call like this without Mile’s help. It just had no way of knowing what Mile had meant when she’d asked for a “ship.” An interstellar passenger ship was one possibility, but she could just as well have been looking for a battleship to attack invaders from satellite orbit or a spacecraft carrier that operated within the atmosphere. Regardless of whether a ship was the most efficient way of dealing with potential threats, it was in their nature as artificial creations to carry out their administrator’s wishes and orders, even when it wasn’t actually the optimal use of resources.
‘Incidentally, Lady Mile, I have received a complaint from the Slow Walker. It wishes to know why you have yet to assign it a name of its own.’
The mecha-bird had probably reported back via its communication line. This bird’s software was a copy of the one created by the Slow Walker, so it made sense that it would relay information to its master.
And this was the inevitable consequence of the Slow Walker learning what had transpired here.
“Aaaaaahhhhhh!!”
***
In the end, at the Timeless One’s behest, Mile decided to stick around for the remainder of her break from work. Seeing as the inhabitants of the facility had gone out of their way to make a control room, accommodations, and a food storage warehouse just for her, it would have felt wrong to leave without putting them to use. As a former Japanese girl, Mile still had a great deal of regard for the importance of treating people with consideration.
The members of the Crimson Vow were each spending their micro-vacation doing their own thing, and Mile had warned them that she was going on a trip somewhere, so her fellow party members wouldn’t be concerned by her absence. Besides, she had a lot of questions for the Timeless One about this continent and the planet as a whole. She wanted to know the size of the forces the Slow Walker had assembled within the planet, the satellite orbit, and the solar system. And also…
“Do you know why the monsters on this continent are so smart?”
‘I am afraid not.’
Mile was disappointed. That one was a swing and a miss.
‘I was caught within the range of the time scale variable device, so I was out of commission for a period of time. I was reactivated by the Slow Walker’s servants—the Scavengers, as you call them—only two months ago.’
Of course, what this kind of entity would consider “a period of time” was probably on the order of tens or hundreds of thousands of years. The same definition that archaeologists and geologists would use.
“Oh, that makes sense. No surprise there.”
On reflection, Mile should have anticipated this. The Slow Walker had spent many long years cut off from the outside world, and it was only half a year ago that it had begun to receive external information again. Mile was supposed to be good at making those sorts of logical deductions, and she felt foolish for overlooking the obvious here.
“Then I suppose you wouldn’t know much else about the current state of this planet, either…”
Mile was feeling a bit let down, but she took care not to let it show. Nothing could depress one of these artificial life-forms faster than failing to come through for her. Even she realized that much.
‘No, that is not the case. The Slow Walker provided me with up-to-date information.’
“Oh! Duh! You can speak the modern humanoid language, you know who I am, and you have both the blueprints for Mecha-Birdie’s body and the data for its electronic brain! Obviously you would have received other information as well!”
Mile was really off her game today. The sharp wit she always demonstrated when cooking up wicked schemes was nowhere to be found. Perhaps the pressure of having to think of a name for the mecha-bird and the Timeless One was disrupting her concentration.
(The Slow Walker hadn’t expressed its desire for a name to her face, so she was going with the strategy of pretending she hadn’t heard anything.)
Mile hated coming up with names. She simply didn’t have a knack for it, a fact that was made worse by the inevitable pressure associated with the task. A name was something a person would be called for the rest of their life. What if she picked a name the recipient didn’t like? What if it turned out to have some weird slang definition she didn’t know? She couldn’t bear to decide something that would have such a huge impact on another person.
Since becoming the divine messenger half a year ago, she had received several requests to name babies, and she had refused every single one.
After that conversation, she went on to enjoy the next several days, asking the Timeless One all sorts of questions and receiving explanations on the current state of the base and future development plans. She whipped up new dishes using ingredients in the warehouse that she had never managed to get her hands on before.
She even studied the time scale variable device the Scavengers had created for her food storage, which kept everything fresh even as decades went by. Time wasn’t completely stopped, but things that were supposed to last a few days at most could still last thousands of years. Granted, no one but Mile had any plans to stick around and actually consume these ingredients, so it was a bit of waste.
***
“Okay, I’m heading out. If you ever need anything, feel free to reach out to me via Mecha-Birdie. Same goes for me. If something comes up, I’ll either ask Mecha-Birdie to put us in touch or swing by in person.”
‘You are always free to visit even if you have nothing to discuss. This is your home base and headquarters.’
“Uh, sure. Thanks.”
The Timeless One was determined to get Mile to come by more often, but it was not yet clear whether that would come to pass. Still, if it made that iron ship and called Mile to come pick it up, that would guarantee at least one more visit from its administrator. It was a reassuring enough thought to keep the Timeless One from pestering her to come back before that.
“Well, see you around… Actually—hey! Wait a second!! P-please don’t tell me I was in the range of your time scale variable device this whole time! Is this going to be a repeat of that time with the Slow Walker? As soon as I step outside, will I discover that a ton of time has passed? Back then, I only paid it a short visit and still lost thirty-eight days. I stayed for multiple days in a row this time! Will I return to find that multiple years have gone by?! I’ll have gone missing during my vacation and be presumed dead… I can only imagine how much it must have hurt my friends to spend years believing they’d lost me forever! I can’t just waltz back in after all that! Reina will kill me!”
Mile sunk to her knees.
Thankfully, the Timeless One was quick to reassure her. ‘No need for concern. The time scale variable device is not currently running, and even if it were, we are out of its range.’
“Wheeeew!! Thank God! Good going, Timeless One! Good Time!”
In hindsight, Mile realized, she might not have needed to worry. The Slow Walker’s time scale variable device had only affected its main body, which was buried deep underground. This time, she hadn’t been nearly so deep, which would hopefully have put her out of range of any time-scaling shenanigans. Perhaps that was another explanation for why the Timeless One had built Mile’s personal facility closer to the surface, in addition to the ease of access.
Or so Mile thought.
‘The purpose of the time scale variable device is to compress idle time and persist through the ages. There is no need to utilize it now that I have received orders from my administrator and am endeavoring to operate at full capacity.’
“Oh, good point…”
It was a totally logical explanation. Mile felt relieved.
“Anyway, it’s time for me to go now. Thanks for the hospitality!”
The mecha-jackalope and mecha-kobold led Mile and the mecha-bird back to the surface. There was only one way to go, so she didn’t technically need a guide, but it was probably a matter of principle.
At the entrance, the mecha-wolf saw her off with the same baleful glare—and then she took to the skies.
“Cavorite, go!”
After throwing up a windbreak barrier in front of her, Mile headed back to where her friends awaited her.
***
With their solo vacations over, the Crimson Vow reunited at their inn in the port city.
None of them could go home to their families after moving to the new continent. Even if they were back on the old one, such a short break wouldn’t have given them enough time for a visit.
Likewise, the four girls had yet to explore anywhere but the fishing village and port city area where they had first landed, so they had no places to go and no acquaintances to visit on this continent. They didn’t know of many cities or tourist attractions, and those they had heard of, they preferred to visit as a group.
As such, Mile’s three other party members had spent their breaks in either the port city or the fishing village.
“Where did you go, Mile?! It’s not like you know any people or places around here!” yelled Reina, her mood foul. Clearly, she’d wanted to spend their time off as a group.
No matter how close a friend circle was, it could be stifling to be around each other constantly. Everyone wanted to be alone sometimes.
Pauline and Mavis understood this, but Reina was different. Part of this was due to her personal history. From childhood, she had traveled with her father, and after his death, she’d spent all her time with the Crimson Lightning. Then, she’d gotten her first taste of solitude as a solo hunter, and having finally regained companionship in the form of her new party, she was abnormally paranoid about losing them. She also hated the idea of leaving Mile, a fellow orphan, all on her own.
In fact, Mile didn’t particularly like being alone, either, but Reina took it to an unhealthy level—even if that was somewhat understandable, given her history.
It had been a productive day for Mile. A matter that had been weighing on her mind was out of the way, it wouldn’t be long before she got her hands on an iron-hulled ship, and she had tracked down a workshop relatively close by where she could order all the manufactured products she wanted. Now that she had established a positive working relationship with machines that had access to this planet’s native technology, she had the option to consult them on all sorts of matters, and unlike with nanomachines, she would never have to worry about running into prohibited requests or otherworldly technology. All of these things had put her in a good mood.
And so she got carried away and hit Reina back with a bit of well-meaning banter.
“What are you, my mom?!”
“…”
“……”
“………”
“Mile…”
“Mile!”
“You shouldn’t have said that,” Mavis and Pauline chided in unison.
By the time Mile regretted her slip of the tongue, it was already too late.
“Miiiiiillleeeeee!”
“I-I’m sorryyyyyy!!”
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login