And so it was that the girl, who later took on the alias Hexametros, ushered in a new era together with Flora Klemm, alias Thaleia, and Xinglou Fan, the Ban’yuu Tenra, in what would come to be known as the Era of the Three Maidens—but that’s a story for another time.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Three beers for now, Gramps. And pickles and rolled omelets.”
“Coming right up!”
The bustling Friday night pub was almost at capacity.
At the far end of the tatami-floored room, Saya, seated at an old table, sat cross-legged in her suit as she ordered several items without even looking at the menu. Given her childlike appearance, she was often asked to show ID at places like this, but since she was a regular here, that hadn’t been necessary. In terms of looks, she had hardly changed over the past three years—or over the past six years, either, for that matter.
In those large cities that emerged from the Invertia relatively unscathed, there were still many shops and restaurants that continued the traditions of centuries past. That was especially true here in Kyoto, where large-scale urban redevelopment was restricted. That said, the buildings themselves had no doubt been rebuilt or remodeled several times over.
“Here, the menu. Order whatever you like. Most of it’s good.”
“…”
Sitting across from her was Camilla, who looked vaguely uncomfortable, her expression difficult to read. Like Saya, she was wearing a suit, and her hair was notably shorter than before.
An international conference on meteoric engineering was taking place this weekend in Kyoto, and both Camilla and Saya were due to attend. After graduating, Saya had transferred to the meteoric engineering department at a university in Kyoto rather than continuing at Seidoukan’s own higher education institute. Camilla and her guest, however, had to travel all the way from Asterisk to attend.
“What’s wrong?” Saya asked.
“No, I just thought… I mean, I told you I wanted to talk about something, right?”
“Yep. Go ahead.”
“…Here?” Camilla glanced around, her words barely audible.
“Is something wrong?”
“Well, er… It just doesn’t feel like the best place for a private conversation.”
“Your partner seems pretty into it, though,” Saya observed, glancing to the next seat over.
Ernesta was looking curiously around the restaurant, her eyes positively sparkling.
“Yeah! I’ve always wanted to come to a place like this! Tatami! Look, the floors are tatami! This is so nice! I’ll have to make a place like this in my lab!”
Ernesta was wearing a suit, too, but she was only accompanying Camilla. She wasn’t attending the conference herself. Both had already graduated from Allekant Académie and were continuing their research with their own laboratories at Frauenlob.
“This place is actually pretty good for secret conversations,” Saya explained. “The noise makes it hard for anyone to listen in, and no one would bother to eavesdrop here anyway.”
“…Are you sure?” Camilla still looked suspicious, but she gave in, letting her shoulders droop.
“Ernesta Kühne. I wasn’t expecting to see you here, since you’re always holed up in your lab.”
Ernesta had hardly been seen in public since the Golden Noontide three years prior. Saya remained in regular contact with Camilla, but it had been a very long time since she had last spoken directly with Ernesta.
“Hmm? Well, I’m getting so close to my goal, I thought it would be nice to step outside a little, you know?”
“Are you talking about the long-term vision you mentioned?”
“Oh? So you remember?” Ernesta grinned as she helped herself to a piece of the newly arrived rolled omelets. “Actually, we’re planning to discuss a unified legal framework for autonomous puppets at the next Concordia. Yep, things are moving along quicker than I expected.”
“Legal framework…?”
“Uh-huh. Ever since the Golden Noontide, countries all over the world have been regulating what you can and can’t do. But those rules don’t really match reality, do they? So we’re working with the integrated enterprise foundations to smooth things out.”
The Golden Noontide incident. Naturally, regulations surrounding autonomous puppets were tightened afterward—but at the same time, rather than decreasing, demand for the machines had only gone up. The reason for this was simple—the whole world had seen that the only way ordinary people could hope to hold their own against Genestella was with the help of such puppets. As such, legal regulations and the situation on the ground had clashed, leading to a whole swathe of problems. All that being said, setting up a global framework would have been a tall order even if the situation wasn’t so complicated.
But after giving the issue a little thought, the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.
“…So that’s why you used the Golden Bough Alliance. To involve autonomous puppets in a global incident and force a discussion.”
“Who knows…?” Ernesta replied vaguely. “But don’t you think this is a much better outcome than having Genestella and regular people all hate each other?”
“…!”
The Golden Bough Alliance’s objective had been to create an unbridgeable rift between ordinary humans and Genestella, an outcome thwarted only by stopping Orphelia. If the public had known that the Golden Noontide terrorist attacks were all a front for Genestella liberation, chaos would have inevitably ensued. The only reason it had been kept to a minimum was that the autonomous puppets, the entities that had actually implemented the attacks, had borne the brunt of the criticism.
“You’re saying you had all this planned?” Saya asked.
“No way! It was all coincidence, or rather luck. If you hadn’t stopped them, it would have all been meaningless. Besides, with puppets becoming more and more widespread, there would have been a similar incident sooner or later. So the sooner we get decent legislation in place, the better, right?” Ernesta, holding a beer in one hand, broke out into a grin.
“…I don’t like you very much. But I do respect you,” Saya remarked.
“Nya-ha-ha, don’t worry about it. But I’ve always wondered… Why do you hate me? Was it something I did?”
At those words, Saya placed the mug in her hand down on the table. “Have you forgotten?”
“Eh?”
“The first time we met—you kissed Ayato on the cheek.”
“Oh, that… You’re still upset about that? Seriously, you’re so petty! First of all, I thought that swordsman dumped you! So it should be fine, right?”
Saya downed what remained of her beer and then, fixing Ernesta with a glare, called out, “Another round, Gramps!”
“Coming right up!”
Leaning forward over the table, she said, “That doesn’t mean I’ve given up yet.”
That day three years ago, Saya and the others had all been rejected. Yes, not just Saya—but Julis, Kirin, Claudia, and Sylvia, too. All of them.
“Sorry. But I want to see with my own eyes what the lives of Genestella and ordinary folk are like after I graduate from Seidoukan. I don’t like admitting it, but I think Madiath Mesa saw more than I ever did, that he gave it all more thought, too. And that’s what guided his conduct. I rejected his beliefs and actions, so I have a responsibility to him. To prove that I was right. To prove it to myself, at least… That’s why I’ve made my decision,” Ayato had answered, his head bowed.
He said that he had no idea how long it would take, and that he couldn’t drag them along as he sought out an answer.
Frankly, Saya had thought it was all rather stupid—and she still did. There was no need for any of that. There was no point. But at the same time, it was so very like him. So none of them had condemned Ayato’s answer, but none of them had given up on him, either.
“Oh,” Camilla interrupted. She had been silently sipping her beer all this time. “I guess I might as well get to the point, then?”
“Right. What did you want to talk about?” Saya asked, urging her to continue.
Camilla cleared her throat. “Ernesta and I are thinking of launching a new project together. We’d like you to join us.”
“…What project?”
“It involves artificially creating holes to communicate with the other side.”
“Huh…?”
This was even more outrageous than Saya had expected, leaving her utterly stunned.
“Magnum Opus already succeeded in creating artificial holes. However, her method isn’t something we can reproduce. We need a different approach. Theoretically, we know a hole can be created by converging stable quantities of high-powered energy for a certain period of time. Which means…”
“In other words, you want to build a Lux to generate a hole?” Saya finished for her.
“Precisely,” Camilla answered with a satisfied nod.
Saya folded her arms, sinking into thought for a few minutes.
It was an interesting suggestion. More than interesting. And yet…
“I have two questions.”
“I’ll answer them.”
“The first one. Why me? I’m not a genius like you two are.”
Saya had attracted considerable attention thanks to the Luxes that she had designed and built during her time at Seidoukan. But most were actually designed by her father, Souichi, though she had added some personal flourishes of her own. She couldn’t have made them by herself. After all, she had still been a student in the middle of her studies. Very different from Camilla and Ernesta.
“I’ll answer that question!” a tipsy Ernesta began. “Sure, you might not be a bona fide genius. But you’re gifted. And you’ve got precisely the kind of talent we need.”
Ernesta, it seemed, wasn’t a particularly strong drinker.
“…Okay. Then my second question. You’re planning on communicating with the other side? How?”
“That’s…”
“Using puppets, of course.”
Saya had suspected as much. So long as Ernesta was involved, that had to be the answer.
“It seems that contact with the other side poses considerable risk for humans. So we’re going to try opening communications through puppets first.”
“Hmm…”
“If possible, we’d like to hear from someone who’s actually come into contact with the other side. But that’s not easy.”
As far as Saya knew, there were only three individuals who were qualified. Orphelia Landlufen, Hilda Jane Rowlands, and—
“All right. I’ll participate in your project,” Saya said, downing her second beer in one long gulp.