We settled into our seats and took to the road. Our goal was clear: reach lab one, locate the time machine, and reset the world.
“An honest-to-goodness time machine,” Shino marveled from the backseat. “What are the odds?”
Shiiko was sitting between Otoha and Shino. Her wheelchair was covered with a plastic sheet and affixed to the roof rack on top of the car. Unsurprisingly, we hadn’t been able to fit it inside.
At present, Shiiko was slightly hunched over, her shoulders tucked inward. She actually looked like a cute girl her age. Behind her youthful exterior, however, she was a genius scientist who’d worked on technology so advanced that it was like magic to the rest of us.
“As I told these two earlier,” she said, “you can’t just travel back in time all willy-nilly like you might see in manga; we’re talking strictly about data transfers here. We can’t undo the damage ourselves, but we can send out a warning message. The average person would probably brush it off as complete nonsense, but a North River Co. employee should respond accordingly.”
“I’m not too familiar with the subject matter at hand,” said Tetsuko, manning the wheel, “but wouldn’t that result in us changing the past?”
“It would.”
“Then what happens to the present?”
“I... don’t know,” Shiiko replied. “I can see us returning to our old lives as though nothing had ever happened. Then again, even if we do end up succeeding, there’s no guarantee that the zombie apocalypse gets nipped in the bud. Experiments have shown that all paths converge into a single, predetermined outcome.”
“Then what’s the point of taking any action at all?”
“The issue here is that we immediately run headfirst into what’s known as the grandfather paradox. By altering the past we remove the need for it to be altered in the present, resulting in a contradiction. Thus, even in the best-case scenario, averting the zombie apocalypse altogether is highly unlikely. That being said, there might just be a fine line where the present could potentially change for the better without causing a paradox. More specifically, erm, the zombies disappearing the exact moment we get the message off... or something along those lines.” Shiiko clearly didn’t feel comfortable making definitive predictions, judging from her uncertain tone of voice.
In short, she seemed to think that once the connection between the zombies and the past had been severed, they’d return to being lifeless corpses.
“Then the dead are going to stay that way... for good,” Shino muttered, her eyes fixed on the case resting at her feet.
“In all likelihood,” Shiiko replied, her gaze also downcast. “Though that might not necessarily hold true... in some unobservable parallel world, that is. The universe continually splits apart, resolving every possible quantum outcome across myriad worlds, if we go by the many-worlds interpretation. Our world will likely remain unchanged, however.”
“So, to dumb that all down for my gamer brain, we won’t have to worry about our memories of the apocalypse disappearing or whatever, but the zombies will probably just poof out of existence?”
“Something like that. We may even be able to restore society, given enough time and effort.”
“Hats off to all the brave men and women carrying the great burden that is our collective future.”
“You say that while failing to recognize that we might be the only ones left, in which case, the burden is ours to carry.”
“I, well, I guess so?”
Restoring society sounds nice and all, but what would it entail? Would we go around looking for other survivors, assuming there are any, or would we first have to shut down all the nuclear reactors across the country? All... however many of them? Us nobodies?
“Wait a moment...” Shino tilted her head in consideration. “Wouldn’t that mean we’d have to make like a postapocalyptic Adam and Eve?” Her cheeks flushed a deep pink at the thought.
Adam and Eve? She can’t possibly mean what I think she means, right?
“Don’t know what you mean by ‘we.’ There’s only four possible combinations,” Shiiko said flatly.
“Four, you say?”
“There are four females and one male.” Shiiko pointed at each of us in turn, ending with me. “Do the math.”
I stand corrected.
“What’re you two babbling about, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“We’re talking about who will be your bride, of course,” Shino murmured, averting her gaze.
“Take your pick,” Shiiko said, holding up four fingers.
“Like hell I will!”
Tetsuko had a sardonic grin on her face, Shino was staring at the ground with a flushed face, and Otoha... well, it was business as usual for her.
After a few moments of this awkward vibe, Shino said, “Actually, Shiiko, I think it’d be best if we removed you from the list.”
“Why?”
“According to Japanese law, you’re not eligible for marriage yet.”
“Laws mean nothing without a functioning government to impose them.”
“F-Fair point.”
“Also, consider the fact that Hiroaki said, and I quote, ‘You’re mine now. I own you.’” Shiiko clearly wasn’t afraid to rub salt in the wounds. “That’s a proposal if I’ve ever heard one.”
“Why, I never!”
Don’t take it to heart, Shino. Like, really. Please don’t.
“N-Not that I would want to, but, erm, if worst comes to worst...” Now Shiiko was the one getting flustered.
Do I get a say in any of this?!
“Your conclusion doesn’t follow your premises,” Otoha interjected, holding up her index finger. “Marriage is a legal construct. In terms of efficiency, we’d have to look toward polygamy, not monogamy.”
An awkward silence followed. The car’s engine hummed in the background.
“I suppose greater genetic variety is essential if we’re looking to repopulate the planet,” Shiiko groaned, crossing her arms. “But a harem, really? How deplorable.”
“Pervert.”
“For shame.”
All three girls took turns belittling me.
Oh, so I’m the one at fault here. I see.
“Teehee. Hiroaki is quite the lady-killer.”
Not you too, Tetsuko! Stop laughing!
And just like that, I was now officially a harem-loving deviant, despite the fact that I’d done nothing wrong. Just between you and me, I felt like fading out of existence.
✦ ✦ ✦
Worn out by the conversation, I took the opportunity to reflect on our actual situation. A time machine, huh? Will it save the world? Will it undo what has been done? I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know that it’s already given us hope.
Those three are having the time of their lives, going on and on about... something. Even Tetsuko’s smiling.
Something dawned on me at that moment.
Just the tiniest glimmer of hope, no matter how dim or seemingly out of reach, draws us toward it like bees to a flower. We’re always seeking that nourishment for the soul.