“We’re in,” Shiiko said, turning to look at us over her shoulder.
She had just managed to access North River Co.’s intranet, which spanned from its southernmost lab in Okinawa all the way to the far reaches of Hokkaido.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” she added coldly.
Apparently, she and Noriko had tried accessing the company’s intranet on more than one occasion and had been met with disappointment each and every time. No matter which lab they had tried, no one had answered their messages; the facilities had either been completely abandoned or teeming with zombies.
While the two of them had gotten access to a treasure trove of data stored by each individual lab, it had been no help whatsoever in saving them from their predicament.
Incidentally, it was possible to connect to the internet via intranet, which was what we were aiming for.
“If that’s English, then I’m the pope,” I muttered. The data on the screen was an endless wall of technobabble; more than half of it was complete gibberish to me. “I’ve heard the name here and there, but I never bothered looking into it, so mind cluing me in on what North River Co. was all about? Like, what did it do?”
“Hard to say,” Shiiko replied, windows popping in and out of existence as her fingers danced across the keyboard and mouse. “It dove headfirst into every single promising field, so pretty much everything and anything. Here at lab four, we developed our fair share of cutting-edge technology.”
“How cutting-edge we talkin’?”
Like, giant fighting robots?
“Nanomachines, for instance.”
“You mean those tiny little machines that’re invisible to the naked eye?”
“Precisely. In the electronics realm, we had quantum computers, seventh-generation AI, and so on. One of our AIs even passed the Turing test, if memory serves. Oh, and Japan’s loose pharmaceutical and medical regulations made for a thriving chemistry field. When it comes to high-level stuff like nanomachines, however, the line between electronics and chemistry gets a bit blurry. Nanomachines run on infrared molecular engines, which...”
She launched into an articulate speech, so I just waited for her to finish as half of it flew over my head and then said, “Yes, indeed.”
This girl’s a real genius.
I looked at Otoha, who nodded ever so slightly with her usual poker face.
Thank God I wasn’t the only one.
“More recently, we—” Suddenly, Shiiko fell silent.
“Something wrong?” Peeking over Shiiko’s shoulder, I took a look at the screen.
Her eyes were open wide, her hands frozen in place. The display showed a list of names accompanied by their respective photos.
“Keith,” she murmured.
Isn’t Keith the guy Shiiko mentioned in the same breath as Noriko?
I took a look. Staring back at me was Keith Wayne, a dapper white guy you’d probably figure was a model at first glance. Beside his name, it said “Japan Branch General Manager.”
A young executive, huh?
Looks, power, fat stacks of cash—he’d had it all.
My normie sensors are going wild.
Brief feelings of jealousy stirred inside yours truly, a former shut-in gamer, but they were soon replaced by sheer curiosity.
“Why, hello there.” Multiple wavy lines and numbers besides his picture shifted at fixed intervals. “What’s that, Shiiko?”
“That’s the real-time health monitoring system at work. It’s still in its infancy, mind you.”
As Shiiko had stated earlier, North River Co. hadn’t shied away from the medical field.
By simply interacting with one of several contactless sensors scattered across the building, one could have monitored their health status at their convenience. Body temperature, pulse, complexion, stool composition—the system could do it all automatically and even without the user knowing. Physical examinations had never been easier.
Due to considerable privacy concerns, the initial trials had been run exclusively on volunteers.
“Sounds nice, but can it pick up on the early signs of cancer?”
“Presently, no, but it was slated to in the foreseeable future,” Shiiko mumbled, her mind drifting elsewhere.
She seems shocked for some reason. Oh, I think I get it.
“If this is real-time,” I said, pointing to the cardiogram, “wouldn’t that mean he’s very much alive?”
“It would, but it doesn’t feel real.” Shiiko blinked over and over, still stunned.
“He’s alive. Shouldn’t you be ecstatic?”
“I tried contacting him countless times and never heard back. Lab one has been inactive this whole time too. It couldn’t have reactivated by itself, could it?” Shiiko said, averting her gaze. She then started furiously typing away on her keyboard. “He’s not picking up. That leaves three options: he’s in no position to answer, the call equipment is broken, or the system is simply bugging out and Keith is actually... dead.”
Otoha and I exchanged glances.
Shiiko was so accustomed to everything being stripped away from her that she had learned not to get her hopes up.
Although I had been able to quash her suicidal thoughts by giving her the Hiroaki Treatment (patent pending), old habits die hard.
“But there’s still hope,” Shiiko said, refuting my beliefs.
“For what?”
“Not number two, not number three, but number one! If Keith is still alive, and lab one’s research object is still intact, we... we might just be able to save the world!”
We got the message loud and clear, despite Shiiko’s rambly delivery.
“Save...”
“The world?” Otoha finished for me.
Shiiko whipped her wheelchair over to us. “Maybe not save it. More like, prevent this from ever happening.”
“Still not following.”
Sounds too good to be true. Oh man, is she gonna say what I think she’s gonna say?
“Keith was working on a time machine in lab number one. Err, I should say he supervised the operation since he wasn’t much of a scientist himself.”
“A what?!”
Needless to say, we were completely taken aback.
Like, the kind people find in drawers, cars clocks, and even tunnels? That sci-fi classic? The same one that allows you to leap forward or backward in time?!
“It’s probably a little different from what you’re imagining, I’m afraid,” Shiiko said with a wry smile. “Physically traveling back in time is not feasible, but sending data back is, according to the latest research.”
“Data? What do you mean?”
“The researchers tried sending back matter at first, without success. Then, in an attempt to surmount the law of conservation of energy, they tried sending back something other than matter—data, in other words.”
To sum up her subsequent monologue:
The total energy in an isolated system remains constant.
Rest mass can be converted to or from equivalent amounts of energy.
If time machines existed, and one were to go back in time, the energy conserved in their rest mass would disappear into the past, violating the laws of physics.
Someone over at North River Co. had come up with the brilliant idea to simply send back data, which had no mass, thereby avoiding said effect.
“That sounds... wow.” On the one hand, I had a hard time believing my ears. On the other, it almost felt fitting.
How outrageous can a time machine really be when we’ve got zombies roaming the streets?
“If Keith’s still alive, we might be able to send data back to a point in time before the apocalypse and prevent this tragedy from happening. Ergo...”
We can save the world.
Something welled up deep inside of me, a feeling so powerful I could barely keep still.
At that moment, one of Raven’s lines came to mind.
“Survive, and humanity may flourish once again.”
Despite her NPC status, Raven had spoken as though she’d known all the answers to our problems with lines like “Gather your party, collect resources, fight side by side, and you too can be victorious! Always remember, teamwork makes the dream work!” and “In order to reset, you will have to clear the newly released campaign.”
Initially, I had been under the impression that someone was trying to pass themselves off as Raven, but what if she had known about the time machine all along? What if she had subtly led us to Shiiko without us even knowing it?
“Yo, Hiroaki.” Otoha stood beside me, blinking away tears as though she had seen that same glimmer of hope that I had.
We’ll iron out the specifics as we go. For now, I know what we have to do.
“Otoha, we’re—”
“Going,” she declared. “I’m still skeptical about whether this supposed miracle device really does exist, though.”
So am I, but it’s better to cling to every last bit of hope than to run away from the inevitable.
“Shiiko, didn’t you say there were weapons stashed away in the security room?”
“The kind that’d get you arrested on the spot, yes.”
For a private company, North River Co.’s security measures were no laughing matter, seeing as some of their cutting-edge technology could be repurposed for combat use. I wondered if we’d even find guns or explosives.
The way forward is practically rolling out before us. It’s either do or die! my inner gamer roared.
“That settles it. We’re going, and you’re coming with us, Shiiko. To Keith’s place!”
She gave my outstretched hand a funny look, then turned up her nose. “I-If you insist.”