Episode 89

BB Makina’s Chemical Facilities Room was a chaotic mess of terminals and machinery. In the center of the clutter, Taro was currently on his knees before a petri dish about twenty centimeters wide.

Forget miso soup. That’s a pipe dream, he thought. "I’m not even at that stage yet. I mean, have I really been eating this crap...?"

Inside the dish sat a blob of chemically cultured artificial meat. It was a perfectly round, featureless lump that bore a haunting resemblance to the plastic-wrapped chicken breasts sold in supermarkets back on Earth. It was dead now, but until it had been fished out of the nutrient vat moments ago, it had definitely been "alive."

This was the standard protein source for the entire Galactic Empire. Without exception, every bit of meat Taro had consumed since arriving in this godforsaken future had been this artificial sludge.

"You guys don't even know what the original animal looked like... what on Earth are you people eating?"

Taro muttered the question to the room at large. Koume, who was busy peering into a beaker of chemicals with disturbing intensity, didn't miss a beat.

"Sadly, Koume does not require sustenance, so I do not fall into your 'you people' demographic, Mr. Teiro. Is there a problem?"

"I mean, yeah, there’s a problem... okay, I get that this is 'normal' here, but seriously? What is this? Is it actually unidentified, or is that just some creepy urban legend?"

"It is a fact, Mr. Teiro. While we assume it originated from some species of animal, its true identity has been lost to time. Today, it is simply marketed as 'edible meat' across the galaxy. It has been so heavily genetically modified that tracing its ancestry is nearly impossible. Though, it is almost certainly a mammal."

Taro let out a long, hollow sigh. He reached out and poked the meat-lump. It felt exactly like real flesh, a sensation that sent a violent shiver up his spine.

"So they just kept culturing the parts they needed until the original animal didn't matter anymore? Great. So, wait—those 'dairy farms' people mention... they aren't pastures, are they? They’re factories?"

Koume tilted her head at him, looking genuinely puzzled.

"Given the current definitions, the distinction is academic. If you are imagining a room filled with rows of cases containing culture Capsules, then yes, that is precisely what they are."

"Gross... I know it’s a bit late to complain after flying around in a damn starship, but this is some peak sci-fi dystopia. What about the greens? What happened to vegetables and grain?"

"The same, Mr. Teiro. We take digestive auxiliary fibers and mold them into the shape of vegetables. Add some carbohydrates or gelatin-based shaping agents, and you have grain or any other foodstuff you desire. Naturally, the base product tastes like nothing but sugar, but you can achieve any flavor profile through a rigorous application of synthetic fragrances and seasonings."

"Gah, it’s just one giant chemistry set! No wonder everything tastes so flat... I thought it was just a shipping issue or something!"

Taro recalled the flavor of his recent meals. The nagging sense of dissatisfaction he felt every time he ate finally had a name.

"You can’t just synthesize everything! That’s like saying you can paint a masterpiece with only three colors just because red, green, and blue make up the spectrum. No way. Absolutely not. Taste isn't that simple!"

"Is that so? However, Mr. Teiro, I must remind you that I possess only the bare minimum required sensory data. I cannot comprehend 'flavor.' Incidentally, the data banks suggest a group known as the Natural Food Faction exists, though the public generally views them as wealthy eccentrics with too much time on their hands."

"Eccentrics... right. But I guess if you're calculating costs and calories, efficiency is king."

Even a massive space station was a pinprick compared to the surface of a planet. Space was finite, and expanding it cost a fortune in resources. Taro could finally see the logistical nightmare.

"To supply the total caloric intake required by the Galactic Empire, the number of traditional farms needed would be astronomical. We have the luxury of peace now, but during the Galactic Frontier Era, that was not the case. Artificial food may be bland, but it is safe, sterile, and mass-producible."

"So, the pioneers, huh? I guess that makes sense... if you're struggling to survive, you put your resources into not dying, not gourmet cooking. If people are starving, you don't care what the meat used to look like."

Taro tried to imagine the first wave of humans who had set out to colonize this galaxy. A few seconds of picturing the sheer scale of their hardships was enough to make him feel a pang of sympathy for the poor bastards.

"Sigh... but come on, the Empire is huge now! We’re building stations like they’re LEGO sets. If there’s a demand, there’s money to be made, right? Why not just build an Agricultural Station and grow the real deal?"

"I am afraid that is unlikely, Mr. Teiro."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because no one knows how to grow grain or raise animals."

"............What?"

"As I said, Mr. Teiro, the technology you call 'agriculture' is a LOST TECHNOLOGY. Have you forgotten that even basic weaponry like the Railgun is considered a relic that we are currently struggling to reverse-engineer? Agriculture has even less documentation. While it is possible that corporations owning habitable planets have rediscovered some fragments of the craft, it is highly improbable. And even if they did, they would never share such a lucrative secret."

"You’ve got to be kidding me... Okay, what about those Natural Food Faction people? Where do they get their fix?"

"They import it. It consists of 'food' sparingly scavenged from the wilderness of habitable planets. However, there are no records in the data bank suggesting that any of it actually tastes good."

"Wait, why wouldn't it? It’s natural! It’s gotta be better than—wait. No. I have a bad feeling about this. Koume, exactly what are they eating?"

Taro gave Koume a dead-eyed stare. The AI remained expressionless as she walked to a nearby terminal and plugged a cable from her fingertip into the port. A list of images flickered onto the screen.

"...Yeah, I really shouldn't have looked."

The list featured plants and animals Taro had never seen in his life. There were things that looked like giant multi-legged insects and slimy, translucent fish. They were all labeled as "Organism hypothesized to be edible." Taro had forgotten the most basic rule of xenobiology: this wasn't Earth. The ecosystems were completely alien.

"At this rate, I’ll be lucky if they even have yeast or lactic acid bacteria. Making miso isn't just hard; it’s a total impossibility..."

He had entertained Marl’s suggestion of making his own food as a fun little side project, but this was looking like a nightmare. Anything involving fermentation was completely off the table.

"Mr. Teiro. Would it not be simpler to use modern chemical seasonings to approximate the flavors you desire?"

"I mean, I could, but it’s just... off. It’s a knockoff. It’s not the real thing. How do I explain this? It’s like the difference between prime rib and a textured soy patty. Or coffee and 'herbal' coffee substitutes."

Taro tried to articulate the deep sense of wrongness, but he quickly realized the futility of explaining culinary nuance to an AI with no tongue.

"Forget it. It’s a lost cause. But man, this makes me want to find Earth even more. If I can get my hands on actual livestock and seeds, I could single-handedly revolutionize the Empire’s entire food industry."

"Is that so? Koume remains skeptical. There is no guarantee that Earth’s products would suit the palates of modern humans."

Koume tilted her head. Taro, however, just smirked and puffed out his chest with unearned confidence.

"Oh, they’ll love it. Think about it: the stuff people here call 'tasty' is stuff I think is tasty too. The baseline hasn't changed."

He glanced back at the meat-blob in the petri dish.

"I don't know how many millennia humans have been out here, but we evolved on Earth for millions of years. Our taste buds are hard-coded for Earth-grown stuff. Unless we’ve evolved into a new species—which doesn't look like the case—we’re still optimized for the home planet. I'm gonna go talk to Alan. Maybe there’s some Earth stuff tucked away somewhere, just like Phantom’s gun."

"Of course those things exist, but do you have any idea what an original would cost? We’re talking a staggering sum," Phantom said, his face a mask of disbelief.

They were in a room at the Battle School, which had been merged with the Rising Sun’s office space. Taro looked back at him, undeterred. "So, is it impossible?"

"I didn't say impossible. But in some cases, no amount of credits will convince a collector to part with their prizes. Grains and seeds aren't exactly 'trendy' collectibles, but their rarity makes them priceless."

"Are you serious...? Look, it doesn't have to be an original. A replica, a close match, a clone—anything! Do they actually exist?"

Taro leaned over the desk, invading Phantom’s personal space. Marl, sitting beside him, sighed and moved her tea cup out of the splash zone. Alan just watched the exchange with a grin.

"I can't speak for animals, but for plants? There are seeds. I’ve heard rumors of a collector in the Takio Star System who actually managed to get some seeds to sprout. He was making quite a noise about it, but everyone ignored him. You can’t exactly verify the authenticity of something from a 'mythical' planet, after all. For all we know, it’s a weed from some backwater moon."

Like those ancient lotus seeds they found back home... those lasted two thousand years. And if they were in cryo-stasis, time doesn't even matter. Plus, I’m living proof the planet exists. "Uh, sorry. Don't worry about the authenticity. Honestly, even if it’s a fake, as long as it tastes good, I'm sold."

The group collectively tilted their heads. "Taste?"

"Okay, so I got this idea from something Marl said," Taro began. He then launched into a passionate, high-speed pitch for his grand vision: the Katsushika Agricultural Plant.