In the end, the checkpoint I’d been so worried about turned out to be an absolute anticlimax.
The entrance was the Waste Entry Gate, effectively the back door to Techne Prime. While scanning waves from security drones washed over the Sperm Whale, not a single warning alert sounded.
I wasn't sure if the "Optimization Patch" Zaid had given me was just that effective, or if the officer on duty had simply been dozing off. Perhaps Professor Stein’s behind-the-scenes maneuvering had done the trick. Then again, the ship had departed on an official "investigation mission" with a colony heavyweight like Professor Stein on board. Expecting the authorities to treat us with suspicion upon our return was probably a stretch to begin with.
The truth remained a mystery, but regardless, the Sperm Whale cruised through the gate as a "mere transport ship" without a hitch.
We were guided to an undisclosed underground dock wedged into a fissure between the crustal plates, far deeper than the general sectors.
"...Same as ever. What terrible taste," the Professor murmured.
I brought the ship to rest in the dim dock and opened the hatch. The place felt like a massive testing ground, heavy with the mingling scents of oil and ozone. Countless mechanical arms hung from the ceiling, and the walls were papered with analysis monitors.
"Beginning offloading. Watch yourselves—this thing is heavy."
I cranked the tractor beam to its maximum output and dragged the Gardener out from the belly of the Sperm Whale. The hundred-and-fifty-meter iron giant settled onto the dock floor with a heavy, grinding groan.
At that moment, the dock’s lighting flared bright. From somewhere in the back, a scent wafted toward us—sweet, yet underscored by a sharp, metallic sting. A plume of purple smoke drifted out from the depths of the darkness, swaying like a ghost.
"...Hehe. I can’t believe you actually brought it back."
The crisp clack-clack of hard heels echoed through the bay.
Emerging from the purple haze was an alluring woman draped in a translucent lab coat. She possessed the same artificial, sculpted beauty as before, her eyes harboring an unfathomable light. She pulled a long, slender Kiseru Device from her lips and exhaled a soft puff of smoke.
This was the Witch of Mechanics: Varna.
Without so much as a glance at the Sperm Whale, she walked straight to the Gardener.
"It’s been a while, Varna. I’m glad to see you’re well," the Professor said as he descended the ramp.
Varna spared him a fleeting glance and gave a sultry smile. "You haven’t changed, Stein. So... is this 'the item'?"
She ran a hand over the Gardener’s massive caterpillar treads. She stroked the metal lovingly, as if confirming the sensation of the cold iron against her skin.
"The 3rd Generation Autonomous Terraforming Heavy Machinery... Back then, I could only watch this 'dream' pass me by while sucking my thumb. Now, it’s right here. It’s enough to give me the shivers."
The look in her eyes was far more passionate—and far more dangerous—than any expression one might give a lover.
"And how is the interior?" the Professor asked.
"Perfect. The exterior has deteriorated severely, but the core system is still alive. It would be difficult to get it mobile again, but that’s not our goal, is it? Well then... shall we begin?"
Varna returned the Kiseru Device to her mouth and snapped her fingers.
Instantly, the mechanical arms suspended from the ceiling and dozens of small standby drones hummed to life. With the coordinated movements of a single organism, they swarmed the Gardener’s armor.
Chuiiiiiiiiiiiin!
High-output laser cutters showered the floor in sparks, steadily and delicately slicing away only the necessary sections of the thick composite armor.
"W-Wow...!" Mina gasped. Her rat ears were twitching vigorously with excitement. "That drone coordination... they aren't under independent control. They’re being group-controlled by a single Cloud AI. Not even a nanosecond of delay... that's an obsessive level of optimization!"
Her technician’s blood must have been boiling. Mina reflexively took a step forward. "Um, I’ll help! I know a lot about the structural standards of older models!"
"Oh?" Varna didn't stop what she was doing, merely shifting her gaze toward Mina. Her purple eyes narrowed with amusement. She held the overwhelming composure of an elder adoring a child’s innocent offer. "What a spirited young lady. But no, thank you. This is my 'pleasure,' after all. I won't let you lay a single finger on it."
"Ugh..."
"Besides, with those cute ears of yours, the noise in here is a bit too loud, don't you think?"
Varna moved her fingers gracefully, like a conductor brandishing a baton. The drones accelerated, tearing off armor plates with a thunderous roar. It was a display of overwhelming technical prowess and a rejection that brooked no argument.
Mina puffed out her cheeks, let her ears droop, and hid behind me.
"...Extraction complete."
A few minutes later, an arm dragged a unit out from the Gardener’s pried-open chest. It was the autonomous observation unit—the heart of the machine, packed with soil data collected over centuries and the operation logs detailing exactly "what it ate and how it converted it into energy."
"Oho... So this is the memory storage of 'The Voracious'."
Varna took the unit and held it up to the light as if appraising a gemstone.
"The operational data for a Bio-fusion Reactor capable of decomposing organic and inorganic matter with ultra-high efficiency... With this, 'that theory' can finally move to the next stage."
"Indeed," the Professor added. "'New production' is strictly forbidden... but there should be no problem with investigating a relic we just happened to 'find,' right?"
The two geniuses exchanged glances, their smiles deepening.
Then, the Professor’s face suddenly turned serious. He turned toward me as I began preparing to depart.
"Akito-kun. I’d like a word."
He was still clutching the extracted unit.
"This Gardener’s data... When Varna and I were younger, we only wanted to research this out of a pure desire for unknown technology. It was no different from a child wanting to dismantle a household appliance."
The Professor gave a self-deprecating laugh before fixing me with a sharp gaze.
"But it’s different now. With this data, and with a 'Singularity' like you present, we can formulate a plan based on certain inferences rather than mere aspirations."
"A plan?" I asked.
"Exactly. It’s nothing like those ugly, incomplete environment simulators you'd find on a luxury liner. This galaxy’s distorted food situation, and the 'genuine' flavors you pursue... This is an experiment to reach the very root of those things."
The Professor grinned and held out his hand.
"How about it? Why not take a bite of this 'plan' yourself? It shouldn't be a bad deal for you."
I looked at the Professor’s face. What I saw wasn't the madness of a mad scientist; it was a firm conviction based on cold, intellectual calculation.
I thought about it for a moment, then shrugged.
"...That depends on the details. My job is a carrier, and my hobby is cooking. If there’s a benefit to those two things, I’ll at least hear you out."
"Hehe, that's the spirit. Well then, let's discuss the finer points over a cup of delicious tea."
In front of the iron giant, we shook hands on a new contract.