Episode 157

"Standby, standby... alright, looking good. Lower it down just like that."

A worker clad in a bulky space suit waved his arms with exaggerated motions, looking like a valet guiding a car into a tight garage. Following his signal, a thin tape descended slowly toward the planet below. Looking down, the sheer scale of the massive world came into focus.

The Orbital Elevator.

Commonly known as a Space Elevator, it was a colossal structure designed for transit between the surface and the stars. Its central pillar was a slender tape woven from carbon nanotubes. To the uninitiated, it looked like a flimsy thread, but in reality, it was an incredibly thin ribbon that swayed gently through the atmosphere. Even if it were to snap, atmospheric resistance would bleed off most of the energy, preventing a global catastrophe. At worst, it would just cause a few ripples in the ocean or kick up some dust on land.

"Control Tower to Ground. We’ve lowered the ladder."

"Ground to Control Tower. Copy that. Start extending the counterweight."

A space station was positioned in Satellite Orbit to suspend the pillar, and right now, a heavy mass called the counterweight was being extended in the opposite direction. Without a counterweight equipped with thrusters, the station would be dragged down by the weight of its cargo and plummet to the surface. Action and reaction were absolute laws, after all.

"Well, now we just play the waiting game. I hope the Development Team can start recouping our investment soon."

Building an Orbital Elevator cost an eye-watering amount of capital, but its running costs were dirt cheap compared to space shuttles or rockets. The risk of accidents was negligible, and it didn’t require burning through astronomical amounts of fuel. Instead, container boxes latched onto the pillar and climbed upward using magnetic force—slowly at first, but eventually accelerating to hundreds of kilometers per hour.

"I guess this makes us the owners of a habitable planet... No, calling this place 'habitable' is a massive reach."

As he began heading back toward the Work Ship, the man looked down at Planet Nuke and muttered to himself. The world was staggering in size, yet its appearance was utterly wretched.

Two months had passed since Taro successfully opened the Corridor leading to the Nuke system.

Taro had explained the meaning of the acronym "NASA" to his crew, a revelation they had met with genuine shock. They had spent the following weeks investigating Planet Nuke while searching for any trace of the name, but it didn't appear in any records related to local corporations. While they found several instances of the same name in the Alpha Region Space, they were all just different phrases that happened to share the same abbreviation.

"If that’s the case, we have to go down there... if there are underground facilities, something might have survived."

"Underground facilities, huh? Is there actually anything valuable in a hole in the ground?"

"Who knows? But at the very least, it'll matter to your grandfather and Teiro. And if we’re lucky, maybe there are plant seeds or something preserved down there."

"Like rice or sesame? Now that sounds like a gold mine. Those would sell for a fortune."

That conversation between Alan and Bella had taken place during a previous staff meeting. It might have been their way of trying to comfort Taro, but he wasn't actually that depressed about the situation. While the initial discovery of the word NASA had sent him into a spiral, he had already braced himself for a dozen different worst-case scenarios. He had looked at the facts calmly; he was ready for whatever they found.

"I’m pretty sure we can squeeze the construction costs out of the Enigma profits. If we use this as a development hub for the Corridor, it won’t be a total waste—even if the planet itself turns out to be a bust."

With that, Taro had given the green light for the full-scale development of the Nuke system. They had already decided to build a base at the inner exit of the Corridor, so having a foothold on both sides wasn't going to hurt.

Because Planet Nuke was expected to yield a poor return on investment, there hadn't been any original plans for an Orbital Elevator, yet here they were, finishing the job.

"People of the Alpha Region Space, look at this! Right now, for the first time in four hundred years, an elevator connection is being made!"

On the monitor inside the Landing Craft, a news caster was gesticulating wildly with excitement. The caster, wrapped in a space suit, gestured toward the background as the camera zoomed in on the tip of the tape being guided down by magnetic induction.

"Hey, wait a second. This is a recording, right? It says 'LIVE' in the corner, but that’s a total scam."

"Now, now, Marl. It’s just 'flair' from the Network Station. They're probably just recording the caster’s voice over it in real-time or something. Those guys are always cutting corners."

Taro calmed the indignant Marl and looked around the utilitarian interior of the Landing Craft. Inside the elongated cabin with its exposed structural ribs, Alan, Marl, Koume, and Phantom were all lounging in their seats. Bella, Liza, and Etta had stayed behind with the fleet in space, just in case things went south.

"Boss, that reminds me—"

Alan, who had his feet propped up on the emergency control stick, waved a hand as he looked back.

"Regarding that WIND base in the Corridor... some pretty interesting survey results came back. Did you read 'em?"

Taro pointed to his mobile terminal.

"I read every report the survey team sends. I complained that they used too much jargon, so now they send me a 'For Dummies' summary every morning."

"Haha, smart. I should probably ask for the simplified versions, too."

"You should. Those guys love using big words just to feel superior. It’s all 'Look at me, look how big my brain is!'"

"Well, I get where they’re coming from, but don’t tease them too much. That geeky pride is like a terminal illness. Anyway, Boss..."

Alan tapped on his terminal and sent some data over. It was a survey report from about three cycles ago.

"A Self-Replicating Factory confirmed to be of WIND origin. Defense installations. A communication hub. They’ve found a whole complex of massive facilities... but you know which one we should be most worried about, right?"

Alan’s face was deadly serious. Taro snapped his fingers.

"The communication hub. Even if every other building was a pile of rubble beyond repair, that one is the key. The fact that they’re talking to someone means they have a society."

Alan nodded, satisfied.

"I’m glad you’re on the same page. Exactly. The problem is: who were they talking to, and what were they saying? There's a high chance they’ve already broadcasted data about our little skirmish the other day."

"Yeah, that’s a very real possibility. Man, Enigma’s shelf life might be shorter than I thought... maybe I should get started on an upgrade soon."

"Oh? You can actually make one?"

"I mean, I don't know for sure, but probably? Depends on what we find on this trip, I guess."

"Right... well, I guess we’re counting on the Survey Team Leader’s genius, then. By the way, I heard Dean already placed an order for the current model?"

Taro gave a wicked grin and a thumbs-up.

"Orders are pouring in. He said he’d cover all the overhead and provide the facilities... and the gross profit on these things is absolutely disgusting. Since we’re using existing hardware, we only have to manufacture the core circuits ourselves. At this rate, we might pull in more than the system's tax revenue."

"No kidding? I mean, inventions are like that, but hitting the jackpot really pays off. Is this going to be our flagship product from now on?"

"Nah, it’s not that simple. We decided to scatter them across the galaxy so people couldn't figure out a countermeasure, remember? That makes brand recognition a nightmare. If we just sold them normally, nobody would buy them."

"True... now that you mention it, if someone told me they had a gadget that could predict WIND's movements, I’d assume they were a con artist or a moron."

"Exactly. That’s why we’re 'borrowing' the name of the Imperial Electronic Weaponry Research Institute. On paper, it’s their top-secret project. A real spy could probably figure it out, but that’s the public story."

"The public story, huh... But honestly, the Development Team is going to be buried in this work. Won't the Kokeshi Development Team start whining?"

"Oh, they definitely will, but what can you do? For security reasons, I don't want anyone but Makina Corp touching the production, and outsourcing is out of the question. After all, the Kokeshi are built using the same tech as Railgun Warhead Control... so, that’s where this comes in."

Taro raised an index finger, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

"I came up with a new Kokeshi product to give the Development Team a break. I brought a prototype—check it out-see-do-re-mi!"

With that, Taro began rummaging through a large duffel bag.

"Is this it... no, that's not it. That's the one for men... Ah, here we go!"

He finally hauled out his masterpiece. It was a two-meter-long, winding, snake-like contraption. Using BISHOP, Taro made the thing undulate and writhe.

"It looks like a fun toy, I guess... but besides the size, don't things like this already exist? What’s it for?"

Alan looked distinctly underwhelmed. Taro just smirked and pointed to the tip of the snake's head. "Just watch."

"...That’s a bit on the nose. I mean, I don't hate it, but is this really okay? Is it using thruster tech?"

A geyser of white lotion erupted from the tip of the snake’s head. As Alan stared in disbelief, Taro leaned back with a smug, condescending air.

"Imagine it, Alan! Ten, twenty of these things writhing all over a beautiful woman... as she struggles to escape a literal sea of lotion! It’s an erotic monster crafted from Strength Fiber and Razor Metal! If I wanted to, this thing could hoist a person into the air or slither through the tiniest gaps in their clothes!"

"............Good lord."

Alan gulped. The furrows in his brow deepened until he abruptly stood up.

"I can't believe you actually thought of this! You're going to bring that into the physical world?! Boss, you really are a damn genius!"

"Fuhaha! Leave it to me! I'm going to make tentacle play a mainstream genr—buwah!"

A heavy impact slammed into the back of Taro’s head. He tumbled to the floor, joined by a stray shoe.

"Shut up! Ugh, now everything is all sticky... and what the hell are you doing wasting precious Razor Metal on this?!"

Marl, standing there with one bare foot, cocked her arm back as if to hurl her remaining shoe. Taro cowered with exaggerated terror, though secretly he was wondering if he’d get murdered for trying to sniff the shoe she’d already thrown.

"Seriously. Just how big of a pervert are you... I mean... s-still, this is... hmm... maybe if we really tried, it could work?"

Marl’s voice trailed off into a confused mumble. Taro tilted his head, wondering why the second attack hadn't come, but he decided that keeping his mouth shut was the best way to avoid reigniting her fuse.

"............Still, look at that. I knew what to expect, but it’s still depressing. I can't see a damn thing."

Taro tried to change the subject, glancing out the window. Outside was a wall of dim mist and swirling sand; visibility was barely thirty meters. Despite the Physical Shield and powerful magnetic fields meant to stabilize the elevator, the craft swayed unsteadily, making it feel like they were on a boat in a choppy sea.

"By the way... we’re safe, right? We aren't gonna fall?"

Even though the math checked out, Taro couldn't help but feel anxious knowing that only a few strips of tape were holding up this massive Landing Craft.

"I wonder, Mr. Teiro. In weather this severe, the tape snapping is a distinct possibility."

Koume delivered the line with her usual deadpan expression. Taro stared at her for a long moment.

"That’s not funny, Koume. Please tell me you’re joking... wait, you are joking, right?"

"Haha, you’re fine, Boss. I’ve done tons of simulations like this in Land Combat training. If we fall, it’s just a bit of freefall. You won’t die. Just try not to bite your tongue off when we hit the ground."

"R-Right. I’m counting on you, Alan... Hey, hey! Put your hands on the control stick! I know BISHOP is handling it, but I’m freaking out over here!"

"Relax, it’s all automated. The stick isn't even connected to the thrusters right now. Look, see? It doesn't even move."

"Oh? Perhaps that means we have already lost all control, Mr. Teiro. And perhaps Mr. Alan is simply saying that to keep us from panicking—"

"Stop iiiit! Stop saying stuff like thaaaaat! Ugh, I think I’m gonna be sick... I need to lie dow—bleeeuuurgh!"

"Hey! Teiro! Puke that way! That way!"

"Dammit, stop! Wait, Teiro, don’t—uwaaaaah!"

The cargo container, dangling from its thin threads, gradually slowed down before being swallowed into a spherical dome with a hole in the roof. Taro stared out the window until the very last second, but all he saw was the endless, raging sandstorm.

"Welcome to the surface, President. It’s still a bit of a mess down here, but don’t worry. It’s a lot nicer than a WIND nest... Though it looks like I should find you a change of clothes first."

Welcomed by a burly employee, Taro hurriedly changed out of his soiled clothes and walked briskly down the ramp. At the final step, facing the cold iron floor, Taro paused and looked down.

I feel like I understand Captain Armstrong’s feelings just a tiny bit... No, wait, in this situation, is it more like Space Battleship Yamato?

Taro muttered the thought to no one in particular. Ignoring the "What’s wrong?" from behind him, he took a deep breath and stepped firmly onto the ground.

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Author's Note: This is probably the longest chapter to date.

Reason: Tentacles. I want to die a little.