On The Harvesting Ship

1

What is thrown, falls. As long as it has momentum, it won’t fall. With enough momentum, it could become a satellite. Adding still more momentum, it could even escape a planet. Momentum is an essential element for the Circs, who revolve around the gas giant Fat Beach Ball. If they were to ever lose it, they needed to do everything in their power to regain it immediately.

“We’re about to start our orbital burn! We’ll spend just under four minutes at 3 g , so hang tight for a liiiiiittle bit!”

A woman’s cheerful voice greeted the occupants of the control pits the instant they were brought into the Insolvent’s  equipment room. Almost immediately, the main engine roared to life, its wallop of acceleration felt even inside the pits.

“Woah! Ow, wait–”—“Terra-sannn...”—“I’m sorry! I’ll get off you right now!”

The two landed at the bottom of the bubble-shaped control pit. Terra had fallen directly onto Diode, and clumsily tried to prop herself up on hands and knees. She mustered all of her strength to roll sideways and somehow managed to lay herself face up beside the small girl.

“Die-san, are you okay?”

“I’m good. You’re light.”

“Yeah right...”

The girl looked at Terra and chuckled. Terra wanted to turn away, but they were both pressed so hard against the floor they couldn’t move. All she could do was blush.

Terra was far from light. If she were to put it in terms of plants—which her reference books said were used for measurements—she was a full watermelon taller than her crop’s average and three times their mass. If another ten seconds had passed without extricating herself from Diode, she would have definitely crushed the delicate girl when she ballooned to forty melons in weight. The crush risk was there, since the buoyant biofluid gel filling the pit’s interior to prevent that situation had already drained.

So, Diode telling Terra she wasn’t heavy at all was more a show of her own fortitude. Terra closed her eyes and endured both the penetrating stare and the strong gravity.

The ship with the strange name, the Insolvent , didn't belong to Terra or anyone she knew. It belonged to the Jack-of-All-Trades clan. Insolvent  was an aging helium extractor shaped like a crushed, flattened pipe. Its crew had completed their upper atmosphere operations and were preparing to make their return, but happened to be the closest to Terra and Diode when their distress signal went out. They set an intercept course for rescue, positioning the Insolvent  to engulf only the pits once the rocket climbing from the bottom of that cloudy sea reached the top of its parabola.

3 g  was hard on the body, but not hard enough to be lethal. As she continued to endure the force with a series of fast, shallow breaths, a feeling of relief spread through Terra’s chest. They were safe. By some miracle, they were returning home after a pursuit by an armed enemy, the destruction of their boat, and being swallowed by a 4000 atm abyss.

“Die-san—” Just as Terra began to speak, the woman on the speaker cut in.

“We’ll finish accelerating in ten... five... three... Done! Good work out there!” Their bodies floated as the overwhelming load vanished without a trace—they were in zero- g . Insolvent  was on an elliptical trajectory that would likely carry them up to the Trades’ base ship. “Ah, ah, are you all right? Are you still alive? We didn’t have time to check your vitals, so please respond.”

“We’re both alive! Thank you for saving us.” Terra shouted.

In response, she heard, “Oh, nice! This boat is a bit unique, so the living quarters over here aren’t connected to the equipment room you’re in. I’ll suit up and come help if you’re dying, of course, but if you’ve only got scratches please just deal with it until we arrive. There should be emergency rations and oxygen in storage. What will it be?”

Terra recalled her glimpse of the ship’s exterior. If she were to make her usual comparison to a creature from ancient times, then she would say it looked like a whale shark with its mouth wide-open. She had a sense of its layout, too. The cockpit was in the head, and since they had been sucked into the boat, the equipment room must be down in its belly, packed in near its meal of compressed helium gas.

One of them needed care, though. “Excuse me, would it be possible for you to bring an internal scanner or some medicine for somatic dysfunction over here if you have them? One of us scored an eight on the General Imagination Concretization Exam and vomited when she decomped beyond her limit–”

“Wh—you’re going to bring that up here?!” Diode suddenly barreled in to shout, “I don’t need those, I’m good! We’re both doing great, please do not come over here!”

“Uhh, so, which is it?”

“Die-san–”

“It’s not necessary!” Diode shouted again. She signaled to Terra with her eyes, who went along with it despite her confusion.

“Ah... right! It’s fine, it looks like she’s feeling better now.”

“Is that so? Well then, tell me your names and the clan you’re from so I can file a rescue report, please.”

“Terra Intercontinental Endeavour, from the Endeavour clan.”

“Kanna Ishidōrō Gendō, from the Gendō clan.”

“All right, thank you. I’m Prizebag Backyard Build Jack-of-All-Trades, inhaler for the Insolvent . Captain Tiewood is still working, so you’re stuck talking to me. Terra-san...? Terra-san from the Endeavour...?” Her communications paused. There were signs she was talking to someone else on her end, and after a moment, she asked, “You mean the  58K Terra-san and Kanna-san? You just called her Die-san too, right?”

“‘58K’?”

“Weren’t those the names of that pair of fisherwomen who hauled up a 58,000 tonne bachi orca? Diode-san and Terra-san, I mean. If you’re the real deal, that would be awesome... I mean, you two are the real deal, right?”

Overjoyed, Terra was reflexively already replying, “Ah, ye–” when Diode suddenly burst into tears and startled her with a loud, “WAAAHHH!”

“D-die-san?”

“Onee-chan, it was scary! It was so scary! Onee-chan! Our boat broke up and we fell into the dark clouds! And we spun and spun and got separated while the rain was coming down around us! I was so scared! So, so scared! Onee-chan, me and the boat... we were so deeeep... it was so, so daaarrrkkk... Onee-chaaaaan!!! I thought we were gonna dieeeeee, WAAAHHHH!”

“Die-san, calm down! It’s okay. We’re safe now, okay?” Terra took her by the shoulders to try calming her, but Diode continued to scream and tear at her hair. At 18, she was already an adult, but when a small woman like her cried, it really made her seem like a scared younger sister. “Die-san, we’re safe now, so...” As a last resort, she gave Diode a tight hug and spoke to the woman on the other side of the intercom with the girl’s face buried in her chest. “I’m sorry about that, Pri-san. We aren’t injured, but–”

“Mngaaaaah, *hic*, *hic*, Onee... Onee-channn...”

“Got it! It’s best if I gave you some time right now! Now then, if you’ll excuse me!” The communication was over, just like that.

“What’s wrong...?” The clear attempt to disengage and avoid dealing with something difficult left Terra with a miffed smile. She kept petting the girl’s damp back, but Diode abruptly pushed herself off Terra and twirled away from the recoil. “Die-san?!”

“Shh...” Diode raised an index finger to her lips. With the same finger, she then fidgeted with the minicell implant on the back of her left hand and cut the connection to all channels. “Phew,” she sighed, and covered her face with a hand. “I’m beat...”

“Huh? Wait, that was all an act?!”

“Yes, obviously?” Diode combed her silver hair with annoyance. “Did you think I would suddenly lose my composure like that ?”

“Being able to suddenly put on an act like that makes no sense, so I think it’s normal to believe you did.” Terra turned away and started sulking too. But before she could get angry, she remembered something “That's true, though. This is you  we’re talking about. If anyone could pull a stunt like that, it's you.”

“It’s not really a matter of my personality, though... It’s because you’re a good-natured person, Terra-san.”

“I am?”

Diode turned around, continuing to comb through her wet hair with her fingers. “This is the Trades we’re talking about, you know? Or is it that you don’t know what the Jack-of-All-Trades are really like? There’s no way you don’t, right?”

“Isn’t it just like their name says? I've heard they’re very kind people who can sell you all sorts of stuff you can't find anywhere else...”

“Are you the kind of person who fully believes the idea of truth-in-advertising?” Diode rolled her eyes, then looked at Terra with pity.

“That isn't true?”

Diode took Terra by the shoulders and shook her head. “Please listen carefully. The Trades are the biggest cheapskates you’ll find among the Circs. When they say they’ll sell anything , they mean they'll make you pay up for everything . They’ll rip out your organs or pluck your ass hairs if they think they’ll make money.”

“Ass... what?”

“I told you a few times about how I had to bribe them to escape after they arrested me, didn't I? As a matter of fact, they falsely accused me back then, but I had no other option but to pay them off. To rescue us just now, they had to change the course and timetable for a huge harvesting ship. We can manage the fee if that's all  they do, but what do you think would happen if they realize we’re the fishers capable of netting a fifty-eight kiloton bachi?”

“Wha-What will–”

“They’ll ask us to pay for anything and everything! Overtime expenses, hazard pay, emergency care, and all kinds of communication expenses! They weren’t offering us medicine out of the kindness in their hearts, they were trying to tack on an extra service fee, okay? The fact that a little bit of screaming scared them off is proof!”

“Ah, so that’s how they are?”

“Yes, so make sure to keep your guard up! We took a big loss this time!”

“It made me happy, though.”

“Huh?” Diode blinked in surprise at Terra, who was shyly smiling.

“I was just really happy to have the opportunity to tell someone you're my twister and went along with her without thinking.”

“I-” The previously talkative Diode suddenly bluescreened. She slowly looked away before she quietly continued, “...don’t think it’s good to... let your guard down so quickly, if that’s why...”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She nodded but then took it back after a moment. “No. I guess... we could say doing that sort of thing is just who you are...”

The two fell into an awkward silence, but Terra didn’t find it unpleasant. She quietly put a hand in Diode’s sticky hair and asked, “Can I fix your hair a bit?”

With that, the two finally started to transition from victims to survivors.

The Insolvent ’s equipment room didn’t have running water, let alone a shower. It did, however, have portable toilets, pemmican, and dozens of water bottles in an emergency locker. A crew could ride out a crisis here for a few days, their ship's condition permitting. The water was for drinking, and Diode was certain the crew would demand money if they drank it. After taking a peek around the corner of the room, she suggested they use it to clean up. It was a bold and brash plan, but Terra signed off on it.

Pouring out nine water bottles in a 1 g  environment would simply cause a major flood, but in zero- g , it forms a sphere instead. They immersed one another's hair in an orb of water, scrubbed, then hand-scooped it into the portable toilets to soak up. Once finished, they pushed the toilets somewhere out of sight. The hair washing worked better than they expected. They felt refreshed as they took a seat next to one another in front of a vent, like they had regained some measure of dignity. Their hair fluttered in the draft as they opened the tenth bottle of water and shared it.

“A toast to Die-san’s incredible luck, and to our coming back alive!” Terra made a loud gulp as she took a swig.

“To my luck? But what about yours?”

“Well, I was the one being rescued.”

“A toast to Terra-san’s inspiration and existence, and to our coming back alive...” Diode took a loud gulp of her own. “L-like that?” Finished with the formal toast she was prompted to give in response, she said, “About how things will be from now on–” She removed her headdress and spun it around her fingertip. “There are two things we absolutely need to talk about.”

“Don’t you mean three?”

“Three? Well, let’s start with the matter of the Gendō trackers.”

“Ah, right. Didn’t you say their ship got away safely? It’s weird that it did, though.”

“It infuriates me, but yes, I think so. Those guys were already speeding up for atmospheric escape when you fell.”

“So, they’ll be back?”

“Yes, they will. We gave our names in the rescue report just now, so definitely.”

“We didn’t get rid of them that easily then, huh?”

“We didn’t, which means we need to think about our next steps carefully. The second thing we need to talk about is the horse.”

“Yes, the horse. Of course.”

“The horse,” Diode repeated. Terra had blurted out the curious word while they were still deep within the sea of clouds. “What did you mean by that? It’s not like you to bring up something totally random at a time like that.”

“There’s an escape ship that will let us leave the planet.”

“What?”

“There’s an escape ship that will let us leave the planet.”

“What?” Diode frowned deeply after the repeated exchange, then asked, “Really?”

Terra smiled and nodded, “Really. It can take us to the Galactive Interactive, and it’s back at my clan’s ship.”

“Isn’t that huge...?!” Wide-eyed, Diode took Terra by the shoulders and started shaking her. “Please, tell me everything you know. If you’re right, doesn’t that make the Gendō trackers a total non-issue? Come on, Terra-san, come on! Tell me!”

“Ah, ahh, don’t shake me. Hold on a second, please. Let’s talk about the third matter first!”

“Is there really a third matter?”

“There is, and it’s the most important one.”

“More important than an escape ship?”

“That’s right, and it is: what are we now?!”

“We?” Diode’s hands suddenly stopped moving. Her mouth twisting into a grimace, she muttered, “Did you change your mind after you were saved?”

“What? That's so cruel. Do you really think I’m the kind of person to do something like that, Die-san?!” Terra pressed her advantage, taking hold of Diode’s shoulders.

“Uh, no...” Diode turned her head and mumbled, “What did you mean, then?”

Terra swallowed her spit and began to explain herself. “We realized something when we were beneath the clouds.”

“Right.”

“And that realization changed our relationship from what it was before. At least, I think it did. I believe you think it did, too.”

“Right.”

“That change made me incredibly happy!”

“...Right.” Diode continued to keep her head turned, refusing eye contact with Terra. However, Terra was almost certain her pale cheeks were tinted a faint red.

She took a deep breath, then cornered the small girl with her large body, “So what should I do, then?”

“What, uh...?”

“I... don’t know anything, really,” Terra said, eyes sparkling. “This is the first time I’ve properly gotten together with anyone like this, for starters. I imagined all kinds of things about what it would be like, but a lot of things worry me now that it’s actually happening. When I did marriage interviews, I would pretty myself up to go out and meet people, then go back to my room to rest. But we’re already living together, right? So how will our living space and bed work now? Are we supposed to do everything together? And if we do, how are we supposed to meet each other in the morning? Do we get up and wash our faces and get changed before we tell each other good morning?”

“Wai, wai, wai, wai, wait a sec, Terra-san!” Diode's stutter sounded like a weird bird call. She started to squirm, and once free of Terra’s point-blank confinement, shakily fled to a side wall. Resting against it, she let out a sigh of relief. “Your sense of distance...”

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to wind myself up like that. But I want to be able to get in sync with you, so what should I do?” Terra started to feel a tinge of worry. “Wait, don’t tell me, you want to keep sleeping in a different room? That’s... that’s...”

“Can’t we save this talk for later?”

“No, right now is good.” —Be firm, Terra! —“We put up with a lot to get to this point, and we’ll probably go back to putting up with a lot more from now on. I think we're going to be running around, getting angry, investigating matters, and trying our hardest, but right now we're not doing anything for a few hours. That’s why we need to do this now. I have a lot I want to talk to you about!”

“...” A full thirty seconds passed in silence before Diode took a long look at Terra. “Terra-san.”

“Y-yes!” Terra replied with the brightest smile she could manage.

“ Ghk ,” Diode choked before she turned away again and said quietly, “Turn around.”

“Huh?”

“Turn around and stay turned around, please. I don’t want you to see my face.”

“But I...”

“No ‘buts’. That’s my condition. I have my own things I can’t handle.”

“...Okay.” Although Terra thought the request was a little weird, she faced the wall. As soon as she did, she felt a tight embrace against her back.

“...too.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m happy, too.”

“Die-sa–”

“STAY turned around. You do  understand what those words mean, right?!” Diode yelled as she was whipped around. Terra faced back to the wall, and from her embrace, Diode continued, “The living space, the bed, whatever else... We can put that off until we’ve come back unharmed. The real question is when we’ll be able to return. No, our real question is where we’ll even return to. Personally, I don’t care where we end up as long as I’m with you. Whether it’s a rundown apartment or leaving FBB altogether, I’m okay with it. But you have your amazing house, your job, and your friends, family, and clan, don’t you?”

“But I’ve thrown those away multiple times, haven’t I? Moving back in is a tradition for me.”

“Yes, but when you move to another clan, you can always come back two years later. We won’t be able to come back that often if we manage to make it to the GI, though.”

“...Yeah, that would be impossible, for sure. Forget ‘that often’, we probably couldn't come back for the rest of our lives.”

“Exactly. And on the other hand, if we leave, there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to survive. Would you still be okay with that?”

“Weren’t you completely at peace with a double suicide?”

“That was just following the flow of our situation to its logical conclusion. This time, it will be something we do entirely of our own accord.”

“My answer is still the same. Whether it’s suffering or happiness, I want to experience it with you.”

“...Yeah, me too.”

“Waah!”

“Cool it, I’m still not finished. Let’s go somewhere we can make a living together. There has to be a base ship, another celestial body near FBB, or a place in the GI where we can do that. Actually, it'll take a long time to find one, so let’s you and I skip to the point. We both want to go to the GI, right?”

“Yes!”

“But let’s keep ourselves in check.”

“What? Why?!”

“Haven’t you realized that we have absolutely nothing to go on?!” Her arms squeezed tightly around Terra’s neck. “What do you know about the Galactive Interactive? What kind of place do you think it is?”

“It's a 4000-light-year-wide crescent moon in the Milky Way. A realm where all sorts of people come and go. It’s a place with creatures that don’t live here, landscapes we’ve never seen before, jobs we’ve never done before, and where we can feast on food we’ve never had before! And there’s no Council of Elders to force us to do things! It’s a universe of hopes and dreams!”

“Isn’t that just you daydreaming at full throttle and creating a convenient fantasy realm?! If we go, you can be sure the GI isn't an endless frontier where everything comes true! The Circs wouldn't have come here if it was paradise.”

“Ughguh.” It was tough, but Terra had to agree. “Now that you mention it... Our ancestors probably came to the Mother Beach Ball system because they thought life would be better here.”

“And sadly, the plans those women developed for living here didn't work out and it ended up being a world of hardship. No metallic resources, surviving off fish we can’t make sense of. If nothing else, we absolutely can’t count on there being a safety net if we leave for the GI.”

“At least we’d have something if there’s metal.”

“I’m just saying we need to find out what we can while we’re still here, not that we can’t go to the GI under any circumstances. We finally have options, and now that we do, we should discuss which ones will be best for us.”

“...That’s true! Die-san, you’re so smart!”

“Aren’t you just getting more airheaded?”

“Ehehehe, I got so happy I ended up overlooking a bunch of things.”

“Please think more carefully about those things. I don’t want to watch you die in a gutter. Let’s gather some information before we decide our next steps, is that all right?”

“...Okay.”

“So, we might not know what we’re going to do when we get there, but we are twister and decomper. We might lose our home or our families, but I want to keep flying the boat together with you at the very least. If I had to pick between you and the boat, the choice would kill me. But if I can choose both, that’s what I want. Do you understand?”

“I get you! If I had to choose between you and decomping... Die-san or decomping... Ugh...”

“It’s great that worries you too. So, let’s take our control pits with us if we can. We can rebuild our pillar boat as long as there’s clay. Or is this escape ship you mentioned big enough for us to fit a whole pillar boat inside?”

“Dunno. I don’t know all that much about it yet, except that I’m pretty sure it exists. Great Chief Magiri’s partner, Professor Dryeda de la Lucid, hid it as a safety net in case you’re wondering.”

“When did you find that out?”

“After you passed out and I went to scoop you up from the sea of clouds.”

“...Of everything that's happened so far, that's the hardest to believe. But the fact is I messed up my decomp, and we still managed to come back alive. So, I don’t really have any choice but to believe you.”

“That’s right. When we get back to Idaho , there’s a simple step we can take to verify the reality of it. Until then, let’s half-expect it.”

“Honestly, I’m going to feel really depressed if that turns out to be a lie.”

“It’s okay, the feeling will be mutual. And if it turns out it was a lie, let’s move to a base ship where it’ll be easier for us to live in one way or another, or look for a job that will allow us to live on an independent ship like Rock-san does, okay?”

“Those aren’t plan Bs I would feel thrilled to go through with, though...”

“Ah, our conversation has gotten a bit off track. Uhh, something about taking our pillar boat to the GI, right? I think it’s best if we already assume that we won’t be able to.”

“Sure. So, let’s take the control pits and get the clay once we’re there.”

“There’s AMC clay in the GI?”

“There is. We export the clay, so there has to be.”

“—Ah.”

“The Circs have trusted the Wǎngláiquān Fángjūn [Traffic Defense Guard] and their Dàxúnniǎo  with the clay export for nearly 300 years now. We caught 128,000,000 tonnes in the last fiscal year. Of course, most of that was used or wasted here, but we should be able to find enough if we’re just making a boat, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re being optimistic, but we'll probably be able to fish for some if we can fly the pillar boat out there. Ah, but if there's nowhere to fish, then I think there should be other ways we can get some, right?”

“Right. Let’s keep an eye out for clay, and from there, what we need to do to acquire it. If it’s possible, we can start planning and work towar–”

“If we plan all of that, then all that’s left is to depart, right? Ahh, that’s so exciting! It feels so incredibly real.”

“It is  real. The moment we messed up and almost died, our lives of going to another planet started. That really happened. All right, Terra-san. We’re not just making this up, right?”

“I’ll gladly confirm we aren’t! Let’s go, Die-san!”

Terra swung around, freed from her captivity, but Diode quickly backed away and, with the same stern expression as the educational AI from Terra’s student days when it handed her failed exams and informed her she was going to take supplementary exams, said, "Now, let's talk about the trackers."

“Do we really need to talk about them?!”

“We do. I mean, it’s a problem that we need to deal with carefully. I’m worried they’ll follow us to the GI if we don't.”

“But didn’t you just say the trackers were a total non-issue?!”

“I only said that because I got excited. Think about it. Nothing you said rules out the possibility that Fuyō , the Gendō base ship, also has an escape boat, yes?”

“...”

“ Right ? So, if it does turn out they have one, I’m worried they’ll use it. Think about it, please. Supposing we make it to the GI, the possibility of getting ambushed by an armed group will always be hanging over our heads, regardless of whether we're struggling with money and work, living the easy life, or taking a short vacation somewhere. Is that a chance you're gladly willing to take?”

“I haaaaate that! I absolutely hate that!”

“You get it now? So, let’s get this sorted out properly.”

“Got it.” Terra sighed and let her head hang for a moment, then looked up and brushed the hair out of her face. “I guess there’s no easy way to say this... but let’s cover everything  we’ve been putting off talking about while we're at it. Die-san, why are they chasing you like this?”

Diode took a very deep breath and looked at the ceiling, “I figured I’d have to eventually tell you. Actually, since we managed to get this far, I should talk about it.”

“Does your father happen to be behind this?” The question was one Terra struggled to ask, but she asked it directly. “Gendō-san... he's that  Gendō, isn't he? He’s an important person, right? Is he so determined not to hold onto his daughter that he’ll chase after you without a second thought about his reputation?”

However, Diode shook her head with a wistful smile. “Please don’t worry about him. My father probably has nothing to do with this matter. He’s not that kind of person.”

“So he’s a nice person?”

“It’s not about his character, but his qualifications. My father, Ozuno Ishidōrō Gendō, resigned his post in the Council of Elders. He’s the kind of person to get completely absorbed in research. He had absolutely no interest in governing a clan. That’s why he gave up all of his privileges and lives like a hermit now. He couldn’t have been the one to send out those trackers.”

“So, your father lives like a hermit... then, you mean... Uh, maybe I shouldn’t ask.”

“You want to ask if my mother fell out of love with my father instead of him abandoning her, don’t you?” Diode asked with a level of directness Terra had been trying to avoid. “I’ll come right out and say it: their passion or lack thereof didn’t cause any trouble for me. It's nothing you need to worry about.”

“Ahh... Um, that’s...”

“I knew you’d get worried and give me that look, which is why I didn’t bring it up earlier.” Diode pressed her palm against Terra, insisting, “It’s not like it makes me feel lonely or that I hold a grudge against him. I’m simply not interested in seeing him, and I believe that’s a normal relationship to have with parents. Please let me be clear, we do occasionally catch up with one another.”

“Is that so? Okay then.” Wouldn’t it be better to spend more time with your parents while they’re still —Terra kept those words to herself and simply nodded. Moving back to the matter at hand, she asked, “So, uh, since your father isn’t the one commanding the trackers... any guess about what it could be about?”

“There’s no need to guess, because the only possible mastermind behind the formal recapture command is the Elder. The one trying to drag me back there is the current Elder, Nurude Keiwaku.”

“And what’s the reason?”

“No idea.” Terra carefully watched the girl’s face as she answered. Unsettled by Terra’s stare, Diode answered again, but more honestly. “When I first left, I thought it was because I was considered an important decomper or something to do with my breeding, but they’re too weirdly invested in me for that. They have put out recapture orders in the past and carried them out as promised during Bow Awows, but I’ve never heard of them going so far as to send an armed ship.”

“But Die-san, you’re beautiful. You don’t think some guy fell deeply in love with you and you just didn’t notice?”

“You’re gorgeous, and if we’re going by that logic, the trackers naturally would have been turned loose on you.”

“Nobody would send trackers after me, not when I’m this tall.”

“Then nobody would send them after me either, not when I’m this small.”

“I’d try to recapture you if it were me, though. You’d hear my footsteps come running to scoop you up again.”

“Let’s stop with that for now. They’ve taken the step of sending a ship, so they’re not playing around. They’re serious, and you know what they’re serious about? Marriage. If it’s marriage, though, men want a flawless decomper with good maternal potential. That’s why I don’t think it’s the Gendō men who—”

“Die-san?” Terra waved her hand in front of Diode’s face after she suddenly stopped talking.

“...I don’t think it’s the Gendō men who are that serious,” Diode said, more slowly. “The only one who would go this far...”

“So, you have an idea of who could be behind this?” Terra asked, enthusiastically latching onto Diode’s train of thought. “Do you think an outside clan requested it from the Gendō? Like the Pollux or the Trades, since you talked about them before?” As the words left her mouth, Terra suddenly felt anxious and looked around at the walls of the equipment room. “There aren’t any cameras here, are there?”

“Don’t worry, I checked a while ago. There was one, but we should be fine.” Diode pointed to a corner on the ceiling. Terra’s eyes followed, which led her to notice something wrapped in crumpled insulation sheets had been shoved into the corner. In a zero- g  environment, it was common for trash and supplies to find their way into a corner, but the mass looked like it had been put there on purpose.

“Ah, nice.”

“One of the basics of living rough is protecting yourself from being watched.”

“So, it’s someone from the Trades then, right? Who do you think it might be?”

Terra kept throwing fastballs at Diode, who waved her hand to deny them and put a stop to her. “It’s not that. The Trades have nothing to do with this. Someone just came to mind for a moment, but that’s impossible in this situation, so it’s okay.”

“But could you give me some idea of who that is?”

“My ex, uh–” Diode looked away. “My ex-roommate. A girl named Meika.”

“A girl–” Before she could even make sense of that information, Terra’s emotional reaction leaked out of her mouth. “Did you use a condom with her?”

“Just WHAT are you asking, Terra-san?!?!?!” Diode shouted like her spinal reflex had activated, but Terra was also shocked by her own reaction.

“Ahh, no! Sorry! Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Panicked, she waved her arms around and said, “Curiosity just got the better of me. You don’t have to respond, you really don’t!”

“You didn’t seem like the type to ask about that kind of thing, so that question hit really hard...” Blood rushed to Diode’s cheeks. She rubbed them and did a dry shake with her head. “Uhh, that girl didn’t send the trackers, that’s all. This conversation is over.”

“But that reaction means you do  have a sense for whoever is behind this.” Terra rephrased herself, but in a different tone, “I mean, you said that she came to mind for a moment. Your... your, um.”

“Didn’t I say this conversation was over?” Diode’s piercing glare interrupted her.

“Guuh...” Terra winced and backed off. “Okay, understood... Sorry.”

The truth was that Terra had the feeling that Diode would answer her if she pressed again. She felt they at least had that level of connection between them now. Still, even if that connection was good for the moment, Terra was scared to push. Diode wasn’t a friendly or gentle person by nature and simply held onto her frustrations until she exploded. Massively. And if she was still frustrated after that, she would go off somewhere.

Just how deeply can I probe her for answers before I accidentally set off a landmine?  Until she had a better handle on that, Terra didn’t dare step too far into the minefield.

Although Diode was acting frosty again, it looked like she was deep in thought about something. She started to mutter something as she stared at the floor. “...But...”

“Huh?”

“This is how I’m treating her.” She mimed putting something in a box, then looked at Terra. “Please know I don’t plan on her being part of my future.”

“Ah...” Looks like she wanted to be considerate . “...Okay.”

The two faced each other, floating in a seated pose. The Trades’ equipment room was a mess, but thankfully it had heating. Their soaked deck dresses had almost completely dried. One was a gold and dark green Victorian-style dress that transformed Terra’s presence from looming to lovely, and the other was a black and silver skinsuit that stylishly emphasized Diode’s body lines. Those were their safe choices from the clothing they each had in rotation, and despite being used to seeing one another in those outfits, neither of them had tired of it.

Diode slid all five fingers inside of a flat, metallic case attached to her thigh. A kachack  noise came from behind her. Terra thought it sounded like a gun being cocked, but then Diode brought her fingers, now coated in transparent resin, to Terra’s attention.

“This kind of place isn’t very hygienic, so let’s use this.”

“Huh?”

Diode floated closer to Terra and touched her arm. Under the shadow of eyelashes so thick they seemed heavy, her dark blue eyes smiled faintly.

“So, do you want to touch me?”

“Tou–”

“Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”

Terra didn’t reflexively scream and run away, but she did feel her heart take a single, huge leap. This is happening! She tried to control her breath and stay calm. “You want to... touch me, Die-san?”

“No. You’re  going to touch me .” Diode made herself clear by pointing as she said that.

Without thinking, Terra asked, “But didn’t you want to touch me?”

“Of course I do, I’ve already been found out.” A red tongue briefly poked between her pale lips. “But this is your first time, and you told me you’re not good with being touched. So, you definitely have things that are off-limits for me. That’s why the first thing I want to do is see what you’re  okay with doing.”

“I—I don’t know anything about this stuff, though!”

“But didn’t you promise you’d give me a reward?”

“Buh.” That dull noise was Terra’s reaction to the sound of Diode taking the promise she made at the bottom of the clouds, drawing it like a sword, and thrusting it through her.

Diode grabbed Terra’s right hand and quickly spun around. Imitating her action from earlier, she led Terra’s fingers down to the case on her thigh. Terra felt her fingers sink into a viscous material. Copying Diode, she pulled them out from the side, which triggered a clean cutting noise. A thin but durable membrane covered her finger. “Um, is this...?”

“Yes, this is the thing you’ve been so looking forward to using.”

“S-so, that’s how it works. It’s on before you even expect it, woah...”

“Defeats the purpose if you start touching before you put it on, right?”

“Touching... where, exactly?”

“Anywhere is fine, as long as it’s you.” The girl leisurely spun once as she floated in front of Terra, her hair spreading like a rounded mountain foothill. “Nothing is off-limits for me. Do what you’d like—front or back, inside or outside.”

“Front? Back? ...Wha?”

Diode smiled so radiantly that ‘Like I said, you can do anything you want from now on’ might as well have been written on her face. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands at her chest like a devoted and pure maiden, completely defenseless before Terra. She now had to do anything she wanted with a bomb so adorable it was intimidating.

What counts as ‘anything’?

“...Guuuh.” Unsure of the answer, she reached for the girl's small shoulders, which fit perfectly into her palms, and started by hugging Diode to her chest. Diode relaxed her body, which seemed a little flushed, and Terra felt a sigh grace her neck. A familiar scent of bittersweet medicinal herbs filled the air. Terra felt her chest stir as her heartbeat accelerated.

She had only rudimentary knowledge about providing the sort of thing her partner had enthusiastically requested from her. The situation had thrown its weight into her lap before she could even come to terms with the request. Diode might have told me that she was okay with anything, but no way  is she okay with anything . There definitely have to be things she’s not okay with.  In all her 24 years, Terra had never gotten to this point. For starters, her life had been spent warding off touches as a target for them. So, when it came to touching others herself, she couldn’t think of anything beyond the basics.

You can’t make a bouquet from flowers you don’t have .

It wasn’t like she knew absolutely nothing, though. Terra started by stroking Diode’s arms and back while rubbing her cheek in Diode’s hair. It had gotten messy during their hurried rinsing, but her incredibly smooth hair obediently tidied itself as Terra untangled it. Dry hair usually accumulates static in zero-g due to the lack of grounding, which would cause it to splay like needles in every direction when combed. Weirdly, that wasn’t the case now. Terra wondered if it was because of the membrane wrapped around her fingers. It felt strangely slick, and it let the girl’s hair flow across her fingertips like water.

“...Mm,” Diode sighed contentedly. She lightly pressed deeper into Terra’s ample chest. If that was as far as she went, Terra didn’t feel like denying it to her, since she seemed to be enjoying herself there. Terra enjoyed her there too and guided her even closer. Once she finished fixing Diode’s hair, Terra continued to lovingly caress her back. The small figure she cradled in her arms was finding comfort in her warmth and firmness. She had no doubt about it.

Terra couldn’t go any further, though. She knew why, too. She wasn’t sure if now was okay to touch places she hadn’t touched before. She had a faint desire to go for it, to learn more about her incredibly nimble and charming companion.

However, when it came to Terra and common sense, she struggled with the boundary between things she should and shouldn’t do. If she had to describe the issue, she’d say that it was a line that was almost impossible for her to cross. She wanted to touch Diode, but her hand was frozen. It was almost weird how little she could move. Still, even if it was with difficulty, Terra managed to go at Diode from the neck up.

“Nom.”

“Aahn!”

A pale earlobe that resembled a namagashi peeked through the silver hair which parted around it. Terra took a gentle nibble, and Diode gasped.

“Mnn... Terra-sa... nnh.”

“Nm... mm... mnh.”

“T-that’s...!”

Diode’s ear felt nice against her lips. It struck Terra as odd that giving, not receiving, could feel this good. She cradled the back of Diode’s head, its pleasing curve in one hand, and peeled back the girl’s hair with the other to explore the intricacies of her ear’s soft, curving maze with her lips. The exhilarating sensation amplified the frenzy she felt growing in her chest. With all of her experience, Diode may have preferred something more stimulating, but Terra had something  she needed to do first.

Lips just weren’t enough. The red of Terra’s tongue slid along the elaborate folds of Diode’s ears, which warmed as she navigated them. Terra could hardly breathe from excitement, and yet, she was aware her drool trickling into the ear canal would feel unpleasant, especially since Diode was already fidgeting strangely. So, Terra held her firmly in place and, without touching the middle of her ear, focused her attention on the perimeter of that adorable sculpture, slowly, carefully flicking he—

“T-Terra-san, stop .”

“Huh?”

“Please... wait...”

“...Die-san?” Terra whispered, five millimeters from her ear.

“Nnh,” Diode moaned as she arched backwards and trembled. “...Incredible.”

“Wha?”

“Holy shit , Terra-sannn...”

Terra had been neglecting Diode’s face. Turning her attention there, she saw it was beet-like red and so sweat-soaked it looked like she had just run four blocks downtown.

“Hah, hah,” she panted quickly. “Teasing me like that... Can’t believe you... you could do that... that...”

“Huh? Huh?” Terra was incredibly confused. “What did I do?”

“What... do you mean... ‘what did I do’?”

“No, seriously.”

“...Is this what it’s like when a clueless person goes on the offensive...?” Diode asked, her eyes glimmering in a mixture of fear and joy.

As always, Terra couldn’t quite grasp Diode’s meaning. She had the feeling Diode was more or less happy, but on the whole, it felt like she was being scolded for startling her. Feeling increasingly gloomy, she apologized. “I’m sorry, I guess I still can’t really touch you or get undressed yet. Um, but! Since you like doing it, Die-san, if you keep letting me try little by little, then eventually...”

“What?! But you were perfectly capable of doing it just now?!” Diode’s reply was accompanied with an expression of pure surprise.

Then once again, she nuzzled her face into Terra with a blissful expression. Terra was about to pick up where she left off, but something else had seized her attention. An itch deep in her chest just wouldn’t settle down. Her fingers, toes—other places radiated tingles.

This isn’t enough. I just need this feeling taken care of, I don’t care how.

“Die-san, um...”

“Yes?”

“There’s something I’d like you to do.”

“What is it?”

“Um, that . I mean. That. Do it to me, too. I don’t mean the ear–”

“Are you perhaps having a hard time saying you want to be touched too?”

“...!” The joyful look on Diode’s face had pierced straight into Terra’s real feelings. She was speechless, and—

They heard the quiet hiss of the airlock, and a figure dressed in a worker’s space suit entered the equipment room. “Excuuuse me, I couldn’t see you two on camera, so I dropped by to check up on you in person. Is everything okay?”

The two released from one another like an explosive bolt had just triggered, going left and right like a booster peeling away from a rocket.

Space Suit thought that seemed odd, so they repeated the question. “Is everything okay?”

“Ah, yes, um...”

“There are absolutely no anomalies,” Diode replied. She neatly composed herself and had barely a hint of sweat on her face. Terra felt jealous of that ability from the bottom of her heart.

Terra watched sadly as the insulation sheets coincidentally blocking the camera were safely stowed away by the crewmember who had introduced herself as Pri. She offered to allow them into the living quarters, since the crew was obligated to ensure the two were still alive, but as the conversation with her continued it became clear that would mean paying a passenger fee. The two turned down the request and explained the reality of the situation: they had just lost their boat and were flat broke.

“You’re skint? Those without money are gladly welcomed here.”

Brass hair loosely tied on two sides spilled out as Pri the inhaler latched the collapsible helmet to her collar. She had mahogany skin and looked around Terra’s age. She had an impressively cheerful grin that was missing a single canine. Her spacesuit was covered in pockets and scattered splashes of dirt. It wasn’t a slim and chic printer suit, so it seemed she didn’t care much for style or appeal.

“Having no money is the default state of humanity. It’s a state where people can find the resolve to do everything and become anything. That’s why those who are broke are supremely important.”

“Is that why this ship has that weird name? The Insolvent .”

“Ah, no, it’s had that sorta name for over 300 years now, but everyone liked it, so they let it be. Anyway, since you’ve lost your boat, wouldn’t you prefer to move over to our clan?”

The two looked at each other after receiving the sudden invitation. Diode pressed for more details. “Become anything ? Then what about the one time I tried to become a twister over there? I got denied anyway.”

“What, a twister? But you’re a girl—ahh, you’re that  sort of person? And you want to become a twister at our clan? That’s a biiit...”

“Then it’s no deal, I guess.” They managed to send Pri away, but her appearance put an end to their flirting. They also couldn’t discuss their plans to investigate the Wǎngláiquān or their escape, as the conversation was a Circ faux pas  at best and outright illegal at worst.

So, for the remaining time, they simply wrapped themselves in separate sheets of insulation and slept near one another. That was all they did, but Terra was content.

Four hours and thirty minutes later, the Insolvent  arrived at the Jack-of-All-Trades base ship, Table of Johor . The moment it did, a representative from the local Gendō clan office who was laying in wait declared the establishment of a transfer agreement with the JT clan, granting custody of the clan’s woman Kanna Ishidōrō Gendō. And, exactly as per the agreement, she was handed over.

Terra was sent back home to Idaho .

2

Diode woke with an awful headache that felt like her entire cranium was being squeezed through the bridge of her nose. She had completely forgotten the feeling; she had gotten used to always waking gently—as if surfacing from shallow water into bright skies—after she’d settled into the residence back at the Endeavours. This wakeup was more nostalgic, and that nostalgia was certainly unpleasant.

She was recovering from an overdose.

“Wah... gh...” Strange footsteps approached as Diode pressed her forehead and writhed in pain. They sounded like cloth brushing against planks.

“Have you returned to us, Kanna-san?”

Diode rolled her head in the direction of the calm, clear voice. A girl holding a tea tray entered through the wide-open balcony door. She was Diode’s age and wore a kimono with a fletched pattern. An electric pink ribbon gathered her midnight blue hair. Her hair’s shade matched her hakama, beneath which the white tabi around her toes peeked in and out as she shuffled in. The girl stood against a floor to ceiling window into the black of space. One wall was lit by a full view of Mother Beach Ball.

An alcove beside Diode’s pillow contained staggered shelves. Proudly displayed on it were various historical artifacts: a mechanical miko figure from the 21st Century, a monocrystalline dogū from the 41st Century, and a katana forged in solar heat during the 87th Century.None of the relics floated; gravity felt comfortable as such. It meant she was in an expensive room located on the outer rim of a large, rotating settlement. Diode was disgustingly familiar with the long-vanished Anno Domini-era stylings incorporated into the structure of a modern orbital settlement; she was in the Gendō base ship, Fuyō .

The girl approached Diode's futon and seated herself with the gentleness of a levitation device. Her seated pose, with both heels neatly folded under her behind, was the one Diode was worst at. A moist, sweet scent, like rain-soaked flowers, surrounded the girl. Diode also sensed a bitter, roasted smell coming from the low-fired ceramic cup on the tray presented to her.

“Please drink up, won’t you? It will help the medicine wear off.”

From the futon, and in defiance of her headache, Diode let her thoughts run wild as her eyes swiveled back to the ceiling. The last thing she remembered was entering an exam room in the Trades’ base ship, so she had been brought from there to here. Snatched, to put it another way. It meant she was already in enemy territory, requiring her to act cautiously.

True to form, though, the first words that leapt out of her mouth were unmistakably obscene. “‘Won’t you?’ Are you seriously asking me that, you poison pot bitch? I’m sure this dumbshit headache is from some damn medicine you mixed yourself and blindsided me with.”

“I missed your insults. They have not changed one bit.”

“Of course they haven’t, what did you expect? I finally manage to leave, and not even four months later I get dragged back.”

“Even so, your departure was just a small lark, was it not? I am  happy that you have returned, you know.”

“I left a note saying we were separating for life . Or are you already far-sighted at your age?”

“Both of my eyes are in great health, so I believed it to be a misspelling.”

“Then I’ll say it again, so listen closely: that sentence meant I do not want to meet you again until I’m dead .”

“Then it is already agreeable for us to meet again, no? Seeing as both yourself and that large lady may as well have died once.”

“Meika.” Although Diode restrained her voice and emotions, she couldn’t conceal her fangs. “What happened to Terra-san?”

Diode sat up from the futon. At some point, she had been changed into an unlined kimono. She locked eyes the girl with the deep blue hair.

“You have the most amazing look in your eyes.”

“I suggest you answer carefully, because the length of your lifespan depends on it. Where. Is. Terra-san?”

Meika looked up in a calculating manner and smiled. “She returned to her own clan. When I informed her you would be welcomed back here, she replied, ‘Ah, is that so?’ When she turned around, it seemed like she had given up on you, just like that.”

“You’re lying,” Diode responded, quickly brushing her off. “That would never happen. At any rate, I must have either been brought back here by force or... no, I slipped out of her hands. There’s no way the Trades would conveniently have an ambush ready, since they only rescued us by chance. So, my abduction must have been carried out by Gendō on site. They used everything they had there just to capture a young woman. That’s obviously more or less what happened.”

“Sigh, you see through me so easily. Well, it was a little white lie,” Meika admitted, unashamed. Then, boastfully, she continued. “At any rate, it was a trivial price to pay for the sake of returning you to my side.”

“I’m not returning to it.” Diode felt a little relief knowing Terra wasn’t caught up in the situation. “I left to get away from you in the first place.”

“Oh? Is that really  the truth? When you departed, you told me you were leaving because you wanted to fly.” Meika narrowed her eyes as she smiled. Diode suddenly found herself at a loss for words. She did, in fact, remember saying that. As Diode’s fury lost its momentum, Meika pressed her advantage. “Was your talk of flying simply covering for your real reason to leave, then? If it having nothing to do with me was a lie, then may I expect I  was actually your main concern?”

“No, I–”

“You really were too concerned with those, weren’t you? Drugs... and that .”

Diode watched Meika join two fingers together, extend them, and then curl them slightly in a motion similar to tickling a chin. She reflexively lunged for the cup on the tea tray, but her hand only grabbed air. A long-haired young man dressed in black kneeled to secure it before she could, having appeared so smoothly it was like he had oozed out of the wall.

“Please keep violence to a minimum within the Typhoon Palace, Kanna-sama.”

“...Jigō-san.”

“I ask your forgiveness for seating myself at a lady’s bedside without permission.” He passed behind Meika and sat. The man with the low, calm voice was older than the two girls by around five years.

The two things Diode knew about him made him rather peculiar among Gendō men. The first was that he showed humility towards women. The other was that when it came to his position as zuijin, a court bodyguard, he pledged absolute loyalty to Meika. Before, Diode had been reassured by those two things, but no more.

However, Jigō was at least fully aware of her time with Meika. The topic of their conversation would have offended any other third party. Deciding it was useless to raise hell at this point, Diode calmed herself down.

“Well, fine, I’ll admit it. I ran away because I got sick of being ‘concerned’ with you.”

“Oh my. Have you always been so well-behaved?” Meika cutely tapped her finger against her cheek and tilted her head. “Or did something happen to make you that way?”

“Think whatever you’d like.”

Meika’s mouth snapped shut. Noticing that response, Diode pressed her with questions. “So, what is this all about? What do you get from dragging someone who clearly refuses to be here back?”

“It has been so long since we last saw one another. Could we talk about what we’ve been doing lately?”

“What. Have. You. Been. Doing. Lately?”

“You said that with the most incredible expression. I, of course, have been helping Father out as I train for marriage.”

“Weren’t you just as opposed to marriage as I am?”

“Yes, and I still am just as opposed. So, I believe that makes us equals now.”

“How exactly does that make us equals?”

“You jumped ship without permission in the first place, so you don’t have the right to refuse marriage either.”

“Ha, telling me I don’t have the right after everything else that’s happened is hilarious. If official procedure was being followed, once I was captured by the trackers I should have been handed over to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs or Ministry of Justice and put under investigation. Since they left me sleeping here, you’ve got to be breaking some regulations of your own.” Although Diode was challenging Meika, she frowned, remembering what she heard a few moments earlier. “Wait, we’re at the Typhoon Palace? Does this mean—”

“Yes, my father personally granted his permission.”

“...So I’m here through Clan Chief Nurude’s good offices?” She completely lost the will to pry deeper, as that was second worst situation she could think of. “Then I’m assuming besides you wanting to bring me back, there’s an even more worthless objective here.”

“There’s nothing ‘worthless’ about my wanting you back, but there’s an even more wonderful reason. My father has heard tell of your skill and believes you may possess the traits to become a top-notch decomper.”

“What did you say?” Aside from being disgusting, it was a total misjudgement. Diode’s voice rose. “I’m not a decomper though?! I’m a twister!”

“What are you talking about? Kanna-san. You are  a woman, right?”

“Of course. I boarded a pillar boat as a woman.”

“Then, doesn’t that mean you became the partner of a man who is a twister?”

“What are you talking about?! I’m not the kind of person to do that, and you of all people should know best–” Diode had a sudden realization as she was about to toss the argument back at Meika. “ That’s  how you tricked the Clan Chief?”

“I mean, I don’t know how Father would react if I told him the truth.” Meika put a sleeve to her lips and smiled elegantly. “I told him that you became an exceptional decomper and have shown him several videos to prove it. Just like that, he took a great interest in you.”

“Gh... you... you manwhore’s daughter!” The strangest of the insults Diode had come up with at the girls’ school left her mouth. “Isn’t it crazy to trick your father into believing that, even for you?! Are you prepared for me to come clean about everything with him?”

“It’s fiiiiine, my father’s stubbornness is the real deal. If there’s any  chance he can get a man and a woman together, he’ll cling to it until he drops dead. He’ll simply believe you’re on a flight of fancy if you tell him something weird.”

“Why the hell would you go that far?!”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Without hesitating, Meika sidled up to Diode and caressed her cheek. “I want you to be a decomper alongside me.”

“Along...”

“I have to get together with some good-for-nothing, so you also  have to get together with some good-for-nothing. But if we become decompers together, we’ll be on good terms for all eternity.” Diode felt like her soul was being sucked into the inky depths of Meika’s narrowed eyes. Goosebumps rose all over her body. “So, let’s choose the most excellent good-for-nothings together, Kanna-san.”

“I... I’ve already–” I’ve already decided on a partner —Diode cut herself short and stopped that thought. She had a hunch that it wasn’t a good time to mention that. In desperation, she clamped her mouth shut and let her head stay downcast. Her face went pale, which made it look like she was giving up and accepting her fate.

“Ufu.” Meika cheerfully caressed Diode’s cheek before standing up, “It is  a rather harsh conversation to have right after waking up, isn’t it? You will be taking the General Imagination Concretization Exam again in a few days, so please rest easy until then.”

“So, I even have to take that exam again...”

“I understand that you’re bad at it, yet in spite of that, you still boarded a pillar boat. Our fishing methods require that anyone who boards a pillar boat must be capable of forming tunnel nets in strict compliance with the standard—”

Diode sensed a hint of bitterness in Meika’s last few words. When she looked up to make sure, though, Meika had already quietly shuffled out of the room as if she had been carried away. Left alone and completely exhausted, Diode collapsed back into the futon. She laid face-down for the moment, then quickly glanced up.

The man in the black casual kimono remained seated upright in complete silence. Jigō—Chūya Gennissē Jigō—was always put to work by his master with an arrogant gesture, but Diode had never seen him make a single mistake.

“Are you monitoring me, Jigō-san?”

“I have been instructed to take care of you.”

“Then, could you brew some more tea, please?” Immediately, she corrected herself. “No, a meal instead. Something that can make it down my throat in spite of my belly being full of anger.”

“As you wish.”

Once he left, Diode finally turned face-up on the futon and sighed. She naturally suspected a hidden camera, but she preferred that to seeing him around.

What a mess this turned into —Diode shut her eyes. For a time, Meika Shikiriyōni Keiwaku was someone with whom Diode shared a room, among other things. At first, it was only friends. Next, they shared supplies and rebellious attitudes. Then came drugs, pleasure, and pain before they finally arrived at anxiety and despair. The two were like magnets with the same pole, and naturally the smallest crack made them repel one another.

Meika was a memory Diode wanted to forget. She had treated their time together too lightly, in disbelief that something she had done as a student would lead to being hunted down and captured. However, father and daughter had conspired to kidnap her, and with extreme motives at that. Diode was so tired of it she wanted to cry.

She absolutely needed to avoid that fate and escape again at all costs. The problem was how. Last time, her opportunity had been the entire Circ fleet at dock together for the Bow Awow, but it wasn’t available to her now. She would have to sneak her way onto another spaceship. And, having already fled once, this time she was certain to be under strict surveillance. If she was patient, though, another chance for escape would eventually present itself.

Where would I escape to, then...?  Diode kept her eyes shut tight while she thought. And more importantly, what happened to Terra?

Meika told her Terra obediently returned to her own clan, but that was impossible. Terra had definitely been tricked or threatened into going back against her will. Meika probably thought that was enough to settle the matter, but unfortunately for her, she was wrong. Although Diode saw herself as someone who almost completely lacked imagination, she could visualize what Terra was doing with a strange clarity.

She’s not going to lament and waste away after being sent back like that. She is instantly going to find the resolve to come back. Diode thought about it calmly and carefully. Terra would bravely commit to the decisions she needed to make and go to impossible lengths to follow through. All for the sake of being with me again.

Her chest tightened with happiness at the thought. The comfortable expectation that enveloped her was the first time she had ever felt like this. That’s why my next escape will be totally different. It’s not just about escape anymore; it’s life or death. For the sake of putting Terra at ease—No, wait, what day is it today?   Has she already been on the move for a while?

The thought made her suddenly anxious. If Terra was already making a move, then it was definitely a move no one else could expect. She thought of how they might miss or interfere with one another. I need to get in touch as soon as possible —Diode looked down at her left hand and clicked her tongue at her clan’s annoying customs. Women don’t have full use of their minicells in this town!

“My apologies for the wait. I have prepared congee and simmered fish. Are those to your liking?” Once again, Jigō arrived noiselessly, carrying a dining tray. Diode casually hid her left hand and replied.

“Thank you for your kindness, Jigō-san.”

“I appreciate your words. However, it was I who chased after your pillar boat in that armed ship, so for that you have my deepest apologies.”

“—Excuse me?!” Diode almost flipped her dining tray. Meika’s quiet zuijin maintained his composure. As might be expected, the young man wasn’t just anybody. If Terra barged in without warning, she might bump into him again. Diode absolutely couldn’t let that happen; she had  to find a way to establish contact.

She devoured the troublesome, familiar taste of the starchy paste.

3

“What...?” It was only once Terra was alone on the repatriation ship en route  to Idaho  that she returned to her senses after the ludicrous commotion and swamp of complicated office procedures. “Die-san?”

Diode wasn't there. No one occupied the seats to her left and right. While five or six other passengers on official business were seated in the cabin rows, the silver hair she had grown accustomed to wasn’t among them. She had been stolen away.

Terra was aware of that in theory, but the reality that the girl wouldn’t be by her side was only just setting in. It was only natural that it took this long. Not half a day earlier, she had been celebrating their joint return and discussing plans for the future. She had taken her eyes off her companion for only a few minutes, and that was the opportunity to spirit the girl away from her—and now, the two no longer shared the same air. On the contrary, receding from one another at a relative speed of more than 10 km/s marked the end of the time they shared together. It wasn’t easy for Terra to rationalize that; to do so would be impossible. However, that was the harsh truth of the matter.

“Die...san...” Terra again looked around for Diode for a while, but eventually covered her face and started sobbing.

The wool was pulled over their eyes right after their arrival at the base ship Table of Johor . The Insolvent , the Trades’ huge helium harvestor, entered port without issue. Terra and Diode were welcomed as guests of honor. Just as the two walked through the gate and started to think the Trades were nicer than they originally thought, they were summoned by staff in protective suits. The staff were apparently there to administer a checkup to the two accident victims. Believing it only made sense, the two followed the staff to an examination room. They called Diode in first. Terra waited in the corridor outside for about eight minutes before an official spoke to her.

“If you need any ceremonial tools, we do lend them out. There is a fee, though.”

Seeing Terra’s confusion, the official tilted their head and peeled the plate reading “Examination Room” off the soundproof door. The text it concealed read “Multi-denominational Prayer Room.” Terra stepped into the deserted room. The rear door was left open. The needles of the main star pointer slowly spun as it lay on top of a prayer rug spread for worshipping travelers.

Terra only recalled fragments of what happened after that. She constantly tried to reach Diode by minicell as she ran through the corridors shouting her name. She opened every door she came across, authorized for entry or not. With Diode nowhere to be seen and no response on the minicell, Terra felt time flow away like a jetstream. Suddenly, she felt three people restraining her, telling her to stop because it was pointless. They had already taken Diode. The culprits were Gendō who were long-term on-site delegates—or, rather, they argued they weren’t culprits at all, as they claimed they were within their legal rights to repatriate a woman who had jumped ship without permission to their clan. That argument made no sense to Terra at all.

Her mind went blank afterwards. If it had happened in front of her, Terra would have gotten Diode back if it even if it meant resorting to force, but the girl had been carted off in a Gendō ship stationed there before she was even aware of it. There was nothing she could do at that point.

Others around her figured out the situation and initiated the requisite procedures on their own while Terra collapsed into a seat as the strength left her body. Terra absorbed bits and pieces of the ensuing exchanges, like claims of sovereign infringement and demands for reparation directed at the Gendō. The Trades, apparently, hadn’t intended the slightest bit of any of this. It wasn’t just the Trades, either.

The Endeavour clan was making its own inquiries. Terra heard something about a repatriation request and cost-covering, meaning the people from her hometown were also taking action on the matter. The inhaler who had introduced herself as Pri also stayed facing her for a while, and Terra got the sense Pri was talking at her about something. If that was the case, though, nothing Pri said stuck with her. Terra was completely disoriented, or more accurately, everything had happened too quickly for her to accept. That was inevitable, given both her plans and purpose had vanished all at once.

The people around Terra had turned out to be very kind, taking up the baton that had been passed to them while she dealt with the shock. Once she came back to her senses, they treated her as a victim whose only goal was to get home. Nothing was further from the truth. That was the exact opposite of how she felt, but she didn’t have the will to correct them anymore. It was meaningless.

“Die-san, Die-saaan...!” Her voice echoed through the cabin, which caused the other passengers to look on in worry.

Inside the ship that took her further from her life’s purpose with each passing second, Terra gave in to the downpour of emotion—but her wailing and grief lasted no more than twenty minutes. She spent some time wiping her face, then started mumbling to herself. When the repatriation boat arrived at Idaho six and a half hours later, she was still mumbling. As passengers unbuckled their seats and floated towards the exit one after another, the next-to-last person to leave overheard her weird muttering.

“Mhm, all right. That one’s suicidal enough.”

As a child, amber-eyed Pohi Nootka was told that if things had gone better, she would have been raised in the Nootka clan. The truth, at least as it had been passed down to her, was that the influential Nuer clan had taken control of the weakened Nootka clan during the riots that occurred as the Circs were establishing themselves 300 years ago. Later in the Circs’ history, the Nuer clan was absorbed into the QOT clan after it had itself weakened.

The QOT name originated from an ancient phrase meaning ‘That which involves everyone is debatable by anyone.’ True to that principle, the QOT argued over policy with relatively little gender discrimination. Pohi had been raised in that environment, but as she grew older she displayed the talent to become a decomper. In accordance with the principle of marriage between clans, she departed for the base ship whose name referred to an old land with fertile soil, Idaho .

Now, she was the wife and fishing partner of the Endeavour Clan Chief, Xeon Highhertz Endeavour. She wanted for nothing in life. She was blessed with five kids, plenty of friends, and black hair and dark brown skin that only grew more lustrous with age thanks to her Nootka heritage. Her husband always showed excellent skill both as a fisherman and as a leader, and he never failed to praise the beauty of her amber eyes at night, either.

She thought her life was basically perfect. Until she saw that pair of women, at least.

“Hey, Terra-chan!” “Welcome back! What a way to return!" “I heard you got hit by a black-veined squid and almost died, are you okay?”

Half of that pair, Terra Intercontinental Endeavour, had just appeared in the terminal lobby after arrived back at her base ship. Sending out a repatriation ship to bring someone home was an extravagance, so a large number of incredibly curious people turned out to greet her. Mixed in among the crowd were her aunt and uncle, who acted as foster parents, as well as her acquaintances from the fishing harbor. Of course, Xeon, the Clan Chief who personally ordered the ship, lay in wait with arms wide open.

“Welcome back, Terra-kun! I have been informed that you were caught out by an ejector’s E-storm, chased by a Gendō attack ship, and crashed into the abyss after a besshu attack. Despite that, you escaped using what little clay remained. That is not just setting a minor precedent for a woman, it is a feat accomplished by no one among us Endeavours! I, too, am proud of you!”

The man, who gave his speech half for the sake of being heard by those around him, was accompanied by Pohi and two subordinates, who also greeted Terra with a smile. The occasion was deserving of the welcome, since she had returned with both her life and the two pits after boarding the clan’s precious pillar boat. At the same time, though, it was clear the ceremony was for distant clans whose eyes were turned on a woman who had just come back from doing whatever she wanted. Xeon’s conduct was nothing more than an impersonal social act.

There was no reason to expect anything personal in this, but for some reason, Pohi found herself curious to hear Terra’s response.

“Yes. I’m back. Thank you. I’m so sorry for all of the trouble I caused. Diode-san? She’s not with me. I think she had her fill and went home. She saved my life. That’s right. I’m alone. I’m fine. Thank you. I’m really happy to be back. A welcome party? Do I need to dress up for it? Yes, thank you, I’ll gladly accept the invitation.”

The 24-year-old woman answered the barrage of questions with a bright, flawless smile. Her extraordinary height and the way she conducted herself in the middle of a crowd combined to resemble a lighthouse to Pohi. Her existence harkened to a light cast on boats limited to travel within a planet’s atmosphere, guiding them away from a crash on dark seas.

This girl can’t get married, can’t get with the program, and her talent only slightly stands out. If you saw the way she acted, you’d pity her. Why does she remind me of a lighthouse in spite of all that?  Pohi was confused by the unfamiliar, complicated emotion.

When the welcome party started that night, Terra got friendly with a charming young man four years her senior. Was it an instant connection? Or did they already know the other?

Her companion, whose name was Bedrich, hailed from the Itar clan. He was at Idaho  due to his job sailing an ice extraction ship mining water from the icy moons which orbit FBB. All sixteen clans needed people for the job, and the possibility of working anywhere allowed people outside the clan to come and go. Talented and determined young people flocked to the duty of finding a new icy moon.

Considering the situation from the perspective of the Clan Chief’s wife, it was perfect opportunity to bring an excellent young bloodline into the clan. For a woman in our clan who has so many problems, he’s the type of partner that seems almost too good. Not only that, it would pair a sailor with an owner-decomper! It’s nothing less than ideal!

That was how Pohi would have usually thought, but it left her unsettled. There are clues that this woman, this lighthouse in a maelstrom, was deeply intimate with that Gendō girl. No doubt she’s sad now that her partner isn’t there—or at least, I hope  she feels sad. Yet, there she was, already hovering near a young man over shared cocktails.

What is she doing?   Hm, well, it’s not actually that surprising . Pohi was a woman who had borne witness to twenty Bow Awows. Countless times, she had seen young people decide to try something new by breaking up with an amicable partner and flirting with a new companion. She had also seen people simply change their minds, discuss things that deeply worried them, or sprout new and unexpected love. It wasn’t unusual for a couple to part after a major incident like this. As she grew older, Pohi recalled those moments of young love with great joy.

Things didn’t make sense to her this time, though. While Terra and Bedrich might strike just about anyone as a good match, Pohi had a feeling it wouldn’t end well for reasons she couldn’t really say. Shrouded in that strange, unfamiliar feeling, she kept close tabs on Terra. She carefully listened for anything and everything regarding the unmarried woman from the Intercontinental family using office time from her loyal subordinate, connections with other elders, and even some of her own privileges within the system itself. Pohi was self-conscious about her curiosity and suspicion, but she also felt it was an unspoken duty. She was aware of a possibility Terra could create trouble, and as the Clan Chief’s wife, she needed to nip trouble in the bud when he couldn’t fully attend to it.

The next day, the lighthouse woman left for her job as a video distribution officer. Once at the media storehouse in the Antiquity Fan District of Idaho’s  Year 10 Ring, she discussed with a coworker how to classify and title the material she was viewing. As the storehouse was old, she also had the responsibility of repairing parts that had broken with age. She dug up worn-out data stones scattered around the garden-like media storehouse, and used AMC clay and other construction supplies she took from the public-use materials warehouse to neatly lined them up again—it was the ordinary, boring prep work that needed to be done before her real job, similar to preparing to fish.

Then, once she was finished with work, she met up with the young Itar man. The two immediately headed to the docked ice extractor Insatiable . It seemed more like a business meeting than an attempt at simply deepening their relationship.

In the following days, Pohi dedicated herself to tasks other than watching the two young people. She had an ever-increasing list of tasks as the Clan Chief’s wife, despite the population of a base ship not quite numbering 20,000. One of those tasks was to discuss gossip, both inside and outside of the clan. She only remembered the two after nearly a week of being busy with those boring matters. Her subordinate had made considerable progress in the investigation requested by Pohi.

“She’s planning to board an ice extraction ship?”

“Yes. Miss Terra Intercontinental plans to board Mr. Bedrich Kunden’s ship.”

“Why?” She pressed further, the question coming automatically.

Pohi’s subordinate explained that if a decomper was to board an ice extractor, it would be for the task of anchoring the ship. When an extractor drilled asteroids to mine ice, recoil caused it to float away. To keep the extractor in place, anchors were deployed and driven into the surface from all four corners of the ship. The main issue with that approach was the high cost of the anchors. A decomper on board, though, allowed both perforation and extraction to be done by changing the AMC clay’s shape instead of using ready-made pickets. That way, they could complete their work without discarding the pickets and the valuable materials they were made from and massively improve their efficiency. It was the reason a decomper was desired for the job.

The two youths made abnormally smooth progress with their arrangement, and it wasn’t long before Terra was showing up at the base ship’s decomp training grounds to practice making clay pickets.

I understand, but that can’t be all there is to this.  It wasn’t the explanation Pohi wanted to hear, even though Terra, unable to fly her pillar boat, was looking for a new job and had found a ship that was perfect for her.

It also wasn’t what she wanted to know. What Pohi wanted to know was why those two—who, in a contest meant to parade her and her husband’s own decades of experience, instead caught a phenomenal, unprecedented 58,000 ton bachi orca after showing off new and amazing forms of decompression in front of everyone—suddenly separated like they had, and whether Terra was honestly discussing boarding a man’s boat barely a week later, despite no prior connection.

There’s no way  she could bring herself to discuss that. That lighthouse woman couldn’t desire that kind of partner or job. So, just what  is Terra Intercontinental Endeavour doing?

An ever-increasing number of strange notions and beliefs began to take root in the mind of the Clan Chief's wife, and as they did, it became increasingly clear what she needed to do regarding the matter. Three days later Pohi Nootka, who saw through everything, summoned Terra to her residence.

After what sounded like a scuffle at the entrance, the living room door suddenly burst open and fiendishly energetic little creatures poured in.

“I’m hooome! Mom, our snack yesterday—is there any of that dry melon left?” “Mom, listen, listen, there was a leakage alert today!” “I’ll be back this evening.” “Huh, TT-san?!”

They were the Highhertz children. Four or five kids of various sizes in elementary cruise school uniforms bounced around their mother, tossed away their bags before heading out again, or innocently passed through before making their way to the kitchen.

“Now, now, all of you, we have a visitor! Give her a proper greeting!”

Pohi, the mistress of the house, clapped her hands. All the kids lined up beside one another and introduced themselves in sequence.

“I’m Kalyana.” “I’m Zagi.” “I’m Seward.” “Klink!”

Satisfied, their mother turned to Terra. “See? They’re good kids. Darwis, my oldest, ran off though.”

“Ah, yes, they also seem super lively! But don’t they have a nanny...?”

“On days we go fishing, yes, we do, but Suima rotates between three families, and it isn’t her turn here today. Oh, it would have been nice to introduce you to her while you were here, wouldn’t it? You’ll eventually need to rely on one yourself, you know.”

“No... uh, but thanks very much...” Terra replied, barely managing a smile.

They were in the high-class Running Water Fan District, a residential zone located in the Year 250 Ring. It was blessed with a comfortable gravity of exactly 1 g  and attracted residents wishing to view majestic rapids. Terra sat down at the reception table inside the Highhertz residence living room after Pohi gestured for her to do so, but that moment had marked the arrival of the sudden storm of children.

“I can put you two in touch, so let me know if you ever have kids of your own. Now move along, everyone. Zagi, make sure to serve a portion to everyone!”

Three kids replied with “Okaaaay” and followed Pohi’s instructions, but one stayed behind. A golden-haired girl who had inherited both parents’ dark skin timidly stood in front of Terra. She seemed to be a middle schooler.

“Umm, can I ask you something, TT-san?”

“Sorry? TT?”

“Trawling Troll–” She quickly covered her mouth as soon as she started speaking. “Um, no! Everyone calls you that, but... but they aren’t trash-talking you! What they mean is that Tr—Terra Intercontinental-san’s nets are incredible, that’s what they mean!”

“Aha, so that’s what people call me now?” Feeling dejected, Terra couldn’t help but wistfully smile after failing to brush it off with a laugh. “That’s a funny nickname.”

“Kaly, what do we say when we need to apologize?”

“I–I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” The little girl teared up at her mother’s warning, apologizing profusely. “Tr–Terra-san, I wanted to ask how you make those nets...”

“Ahh, nets. Nets, hmm.” Terra didn’t sense any ill will, so she tried to lighten the mood with her answer. “The nets I make... they’re just from remembering the things I always daydream about. Stuff I’ve seen in photo books or movies.”

“Photo books?”

“Yeah, I distribute them. You should try giving them a look too, since there are plenty aimed at minors. If you do, maybe you’ll start seeing those things for yourself here at FBB.”

“At FBB? We can see them here?”

“That’s right,” she replied. Thinking about it was like taking a peek into her own inner workings. “Fat Beach Ball’s clouds can change into any shape. When I was a kid, I used to watch down there a lot, so...”

“Can I become a decomper like you if I do that?” The girl kept staring straight at Terra.

I didn’t become like this because I wanted to —Terra stopped that thought just before she replied with it. Even though it was a new experience to her, she understood she was about to be an influence on someone, not being influenced by someone.

“Becoming someone like me... That’s a hard question, but I guess it’s doing something like what I just told you, and also thinking about the desires of the person you want to decomp for.”

“Someone you want  to decomp for? Who’s that?”

It was only natural that Kaly would ask, but Terra didn’t know what to say. She stared at the girl, not able to breathe.

“Somebody just like how your dad is to me.”

Pohi lent a helping hand, much to Terra’s surprise. The daughter’s unsatisfied face said she wanted to hear it from Terra, but Pohi gently shooed her away, telling her they were in the middle of an adult conversation and that she need to leave it for later. Then, with a somewhat stern expression, the Clan Chief’s wife turned around.

“Well, I don’t have any doubt now.”

“Excuse me?”

“You, for some reason, refused to give the name of the lover you just took for yourself.”

Terra thought she had dodged the bullet, only to have it come around and shoot her in the back instead. Feeling awkward, she replied, “I... I'm just a little embarrassed...” With that, her questions about what brought the conversation to this point raced out of her mouth. “What is this about? What business do we have today?”

“The reason you’re here today, Terra Intercontinental-san, is your lover’s name. What is it?”

Terra’s attempt to change the topic ended up with her getting shot again by the question. Disoriented, she replied, “By lover, do you mean Bedrich-san? We really don’t have that kind of a relationship yet, but why do you believe we do?”

“Let’s go through it in order for now. You've been acting interested in him, and it seems he’s also taken a liking to you. There’s gossip circulating among the people who know you that you two might be dating, and that gossip has made it my ears. So, is everything I said true so far? Or have I misunderstood something?”

“Misunderstood...” Unable to keep up with the fast pace of their conversation, Terra couldn’t reply properly. “No, you haven’t misunderstood anything... I think.”

“I see, I’ll continue then. You volunteered as a decomper for the Insatiable , which he works for. You got on and checked out the equipment, didn’t you? You even went out for a decomping trial once.”

“Ah, yes. I did, but... how did you know about that?”

“That's an easy thing to find out, you know. You weren't trying to hide that decomping test, and you were  at the Endeavours’ Idaho . There’s no reason for you to ask how I know that, and as a matter of fact, I believe it’s you  who owes me  some answers.” Dodging Terra’s question with ease, Pohi pressed further. “And it’s not just one answer. There are three, maybe four issues that are rather murky. What do you think?”

“What... would those be?”

“You want me to list them? Well, okay, but since it’s quite troublesome, I’ll just come out and say outright the last and biggest thing you were going to do. So, fourth thing first: you’re planning to jump ship from Idaho  without permission.”

“Ju–” Terra froze up yet again.

“You really are the kind of person who’s better off not lying, huh?” Pohi’s pitying tone stabbed her. “I came to the conclusion that was your plan because a spare spacesuit was discovered inside of one of the Insatiable’s  clay anchors. You stashed it there with your decomping abilities. Needless to say, I'm a decomper myself, so I’ve already extracted said spacesuit. I have racked my brain to understand why you would do such a thing, and the only conclusion I can reach is that you planned to wear it to board another spaceship. Of course, there is no reason to do that at Idaho’s  docks... but at an ice asteroid, you could use that spacesuit to escape since other clans’ ice extraction ships visit those too—Well? Do you acknowledge that to be the case?”

“...This is all too sudden, I don’t really follow.” Terra looked confused, and her eyes wandered to the minicell in her left hand and the brightly lit high window.

“Then, I’ll keep going. Three: you lied about wanting to be part of the Insatiable’s  crew so you could put that plan into action. Since you plan to escape while under contract, you will undeniably be committing a crime.”

“Ah...” Terra wasn’t prepared mentally for the sudden gravity of Pohi’s speech, or for her to start with the biggest wrongdoing. The shock hit her much harder than expected. She grew pale, not even able to cut in.

“Two: in addition to lying about wanting to be a crew member, you pretended to be interested in Bedrich-san to smooth the way despite not really liking him. That’s not a crime the Guards can arrest you for, but you are  aware that it is distasteful, no?”

“I... he–”

“Go ahead and say it. If you really do like him, then it might increase the number of people who think this is a beautiful little love story. Going behind the back of a man you like to carry out a plan to jump ship isn’t consistent with that at all, though.”

“...I guess you know everything. I take it you even saw what I did in the attic? I know the Clan Chief’s wife is important, but is that even allowed?”

“What did  you do in the attic? I haven’t surveilled any private spaces. I’d anger everyone in our clan if I did that type of thing. What I know comes from public spaces where anyone can see you, like the work port, library, or restaurant district. You have no reason to find fault with that, since I was doing it for the sake of investigating a crime. While our clan allows ships to come and go with relative freedom, you must know we cannot treat boat owners jumping ship without permission lightly. If I reported you to the Guards right now, you’re facing a transfer to a zero-g area with no view of the outside, not to mention the years of movement restrictions that would be imposed on you–” Pohi gave a single wave of her hand and focused her sharp eyes on Terra. “Well, I don’t need to tell you that, we’re all taught that in elementary cruise school.”

Terra continued to look away. She couldn’t reply. It was hard to breathe, like the room had opened to the vacuum. She felt a chill run down her spine.

“So, with that said, what I want to know is—” Pohi slowly bent over the table, and whispered so quietly her voice wouldn’t even reach the back of the sofa. “What do you want to do?”

“Wh...”

“Look right here, straight at me. Don’t look away.”

Terra had been focused on her left hand since the middle of their conversation, but on command she turned to look directly at Pohi. The amber eyes of the woman who was almost twice her age looked into her with a faint glimmer.

“Finally, one: you’ll go to those lengths because you’re chasing that girl, Diode.”

“—Gh.” On that point, Terra groaned voicelessly and started to stand.

Pohi stopped her by grabbing her arm. “Tell me! Did you have a fight with her? Or was it the other way around?”

“Po... Pohi-san?” Terra blinked.

Pohi’s rapidfire talking continued, “I know you haven't thought about anyone except the twister you went fishing with. I’m a decomper, and I can clearly see she’s that  kind of twister to you. That's why I don't believe that you two peacefully parted ways; there’s no way either of you would do that. Given that, what really happened then? Is it possible you had a small argument over a misunderstanding? Or maybe your frustration with each other boiled over at the end and you impulsively split up—if that’s the case, I’d guess it was over something particularly thorny—but now your regret is so unbearable you’d do this to see her again? So, what happened? Tell me?”

Terra was astonished. It had taken her a while to finally understand what Pohi was driving at. The first thing that was clear to her was that Pohi wasn’t admonishing her; if anything, Pohi seemed sympathetic. Of everything Terra had felt during this conversation, sympathy was the most unbelievable. In a daze, she asked her own question of Pohi.

“But... it’s unacceptable for a woman to be your partner as a twister in the first place, isn’t it?”

“If we’re going by common sense, yes.” Pohi snorted, then crossed her arms assertively. “But being able to bend or ignore common sense is a decomper’s strong suit, though, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Really?”

“What do you mean ‘really’? That’s the kind of decomping you’ve pulled off yourself—Ahh, I see. You haven’t really talked to other decompers, have you?”

“No, I guess I haven’t.”

“No matter who the decomper is, that’s what we think. What we imagine . We want to create the shapes we like. We want to see shapes we’ve never seen before. We’re surprised to see things we didn’t know about. That sort of things.”

Terra took in those words, then whispered, “Wait... So, are you saying you recognize us?”

“Yes, that’s what I thought about you two. I understood you and her formed that kind of shape, something new.”

Terra fell back onto the sofa, feeling dizzy after the tension left her body. She kept her eyelids shut tight to stop herself from sobbing on the spot.

“Oh my, are you okay? Would you like a drink?”

After asking with concern, Pohi brought some coffee over from the wall printer. Terra breathed deeply while she held the warm cup in her hands. Pohi smiled wistfully and spoke.

“It looks like you were terribly anxious. I’m sorry. I thought you would sidestep the topic if I broached it lightly.”

“I’m sorry... I was confused.”

“Don’t worry, take it easy. Just let me say beforehand not to take this as a sign that the Endeavours as a whole are changing their policies on the matter, okay?”

Terra looked at her and nodded. “Okay, I understand.”

“Xeon is going to put your control pits back into a pillar boat tomorrow, but that won’t mean you’re allowed to board again just yet. Strictly speaking, I’m just giving you advice like this because I felt like lending a hand. Still, I believe this meeting can have a better purpose; at the very least we can let those four problems of yours slide as a mere failed attempt. Kneading a spacesuit into the ice extraction ship anchor? I don’t think a plan can get any more suicidal than that! Think about it a little harder, okay?”

“Okay.” Terra nodded and couldn’t keep herself from smiling. “Okay.”

“Good. So... let’s get back to what we were talking about earlier.” Pohi picked up her own cup, and this time sat next to Terra. Their shoulders rested at different heights, so she looked up to Terra and with the same quiet voice from before, asked, “What did you two fight about?”

“Nothing. It’s just... she was kidnapped.”

Terra explained how the Gendō kidnapped Diode. If she had told someone any earlier, it would have made it obvious to them she wanted to bring the girl back. That was why had she kept quiet on the matter.

“Oh my...” Pohi’s eyes were wide open after hearing Terra’s story. “So, you two didn’t part ways, but were split up? Of course  you’d be desperate to save her! My, how cruel... I believe we may be able to lodge a little complaint regarding that officially.”

“No, please don’t, Pohi-san.” Terra shyly held out a palm at Pohi, who had grown angry. “Even if you do, the Gendō won’t give Die-san back. They’ll increase their security instead, I’m sure of it. But I... I’m getting her back, no matter what it takes, no matter how far I have to go to do it.”

“...Terra-san.” Pohi placed her cup on the table and held Terra’s hand. “Yes. I know how you feel... er, no, rather, I understand where you’re coming from. You have my sympathy. I’ll be cheering for you.”

“Thank you.”

“What are you going to do, then? Because in that case...” Pohi paused in consideration. “I think... you should make some adjustments, since following your plan as-is will eventually break the law. Maybe you could even get Bedrich-san and the Insatiable  to lend you their might. Well, you won’t make his dreams come true, though. Your plan to board another ship at an icy moon is good, though. You have already given some thought to what you’ll do after that, right?”

“Well, about that—” Terra lifted her cup and drank nearly half of it while she thought. Finally, she made up her mind and looked to Pohi. “Then yes, I have thought about it. I’ve made a few changes after talking to you, though. Could I make a request? Just one.”

“What is it? You can tell me anything.”

“When I leave this ship, we probably aren’t coming back—but, if that’s really what happens, would it be possible not to blame Uncle Rubal and Aunt Mora, or demand compensation from them?”

Surprised, Pohi shook her head. “Aren’t coming back? So, you’re not returning with her?”

“I’m not. There’s somewhere we need to go.”

“You’re going through with that criminal plan after all, then?”

“No, I’m going to do something else.” Terra wasn’t sure which face she was supposed to make for this, so she flashed Pohi a troubled smile and confided, “Everything you brought up has changed my plan, so I’m not planning to trick you and go ahead with it anyway.”

“A different method.” Pohi stated firmly, staring at Terra as if seeking her confirmation. “Will you harm anyone or steal anything?”

Terra set her cup aside and gazed at the skylight. “I won't harm anyone or steal anything that belongs to someone. If anything, all that will be missing from now on is our catch—but we were never fishers to begin with, were we?”

“Right.” There was a hint of bitterness in Pohi’s smile. “We kept refusing to recognize you as fishers, even after you brought your boat back from the bottom of the clouds.”

“This isn’t about revenge or anything like that. Something that absolutely would have benefitted the clan going ignored was a bit... hard to deal with, but that’s all.”

“I understand.”

“So, with that said... I’m very grateful to you, Pohi-san.”

“It’s okay, stay well. I’ll do something about your aunt and uncle, all right?”

Terra thanked her, and the married woman saw her off at the entrance as she left.

The next morning, Terra prepared breakfast, packed lunch, and baked sweets. She set off for work in the Antiquity District in Idaho’s  Year 10 Ring carrying a slightly oversized gray rucksack. Once there, Terra reviewed a video of a woman rope-tied to a scaffold sticking out of a deep fissure. She was being forced into the fissure, and Terra discussed with her coworker Makia whether it was a work of entertainment, a scientific experiment, a torture record, or something more difficult to categorize.

At noon, she ate the lunch she packed in the ancient-looking media storage garden and grabbed the horse’s tail. The tail belonged to an old robot horse that had existed since Idaho’s  Antiquity District was built. She followed its clip-clopping until she found data stones scattered like ruins in the depths of the archive, where she passed through a discreet, hidden door and entered the 300-year-old escape ship.

The moment she stepped into the hidden space, her minicell started on its own and Exceptional Eda’s face appeared.

“Congratulations, Terra-chan. You finally made your escape.”

“Sigh...”

She leaned against the wall with the rucksack and slowly sank to the floor. The horse that stood beside her after leading her here snorted and returned to the archive. The door closed, leaving the escape ship completely isolated from the interior of the base ship Idaho . For a moment, Terra couldn’t get back up. Both the relief of achieving her plan and the fatigue of the effort weighed heavily on her. Leading the Itar youth on and arguing with the Clan Chief’s wife who saw through her were the kind of difficult thing that she would normally find impossible.

“I’m exhausted... I feel like I took ten years off my lifespan.”

“It was terrifying when that auntie exposed you like that. Heh, you lucked out.”

“That wasn’t luck, that was her being a nice person. Please don’t call her an auntie,” Terra said, glaring at her minicell.

Eda laughed. “Haha, what’s the problem? I’m an auntie too, but I don’t mind that at all. I’m out here living life to its fullest.”

“I didn’t mean like that...”

“You’re grateful, I know. Are you also feeling guilty, then? Since we’re about to run off with some of the clan’s property after ganking it?” Eda asked with a level tone and shrugged. “Magiri and I, the Great Chiefs, have owned anything and everything in Idaho  from the very beginning. That even goes for the very molecules making up your body, Terra-chan.”

“My body is mine.”

“Maybe at first, because it’s only yours until it belongs to someone else!” The way the short haired woman dressed in white on Terra’s left hand said that was so friendly it was scary.

Even though Terra was aware of how bizarre the woman’s existence was, she still couldn’t believe the sight of it. Terra first met Professor Dryeda de la Lucid, xenobiologist first-rate, in the depths of FBB’s clouds, then encountered her again a day after being sent back to Idaho .

Terra grabbed the horse’s tail out of faint hope when she first got back to the media storehouse. That was the moment she opened the door for the first time. The instant she stepped inside, Eda spoke to her. Once they were certain the systems onboard the escape ship still worked, Terra’s escape plan became a firm possibility for the first time.

Eda had existed inside the ship since then. She didn’t have a physical presence, but her personality was there. It did seem like Terra had carried her back up with them, but it was also possible Terra’s entry awakened a hibernating AI that contained Eda’s data. Either way, it meant that she could probably communicate from anywhere. Terra hadn’t been able to pin down her real location yet. Eda was inscrutable, but thankfully, they shared a goal.

“Anyway, thanks to all the supplies you brought, Terra-chan, it was possible to get this ship up and running again. Now all that’s left to do now is to bring Diode-chan over and then I can send us flying to the GI.”

“Absolutely do not send us flying before she’s on board with us, please.”

“I know. If I did, you’re sure to blow up the ship. I promise we’ll pick her up before we run away.”

They could work together because Professor Eda also wanted to go to the GI. While Terra tricked the watchful eyes of the clan by pushing forward with her fake plan of escaping on the ice extraction ship, Eda made preparations for their real escape plan in the old escape ship. In the event they failed and the real plan was uncovered due to carelessness, Eda had arranged to create an opening to escape by using the Great Chief code to force the base ship into a state of emergency. Thankfully, they succeeded without needing to resort to it.

It was a lot for mere common interest. Curious, Terra started to question her. “Eda-san, why are you going so far to help us out? You told me you’ve gotten in contact with people at FBB before, but still.”

“For fun,” Eda said bluntly, then continued, “There’s also something I’d like to ask you, then. Why do you want to save Diode-chan?”

“Because she’s my partner. Is that so weird you need to know more about it?”

“I don’t want to hear more because it’s weird, it’s because I want to know if you’re aware of your sense of priorities. There are many sides to a person, and just as many ways they can show those sides. It’s rare that someone accepts every part of another person, so if you have a deep knowledge of which traits you love the most, it can help maintain your bond—now, of Diode-chan’s traits, which one do you want to get back the most?”

Terra fell silent after Eda’s surprise attack. She was asking an unexpectedly interesting question.

“Her looks? Her personality? Her abilities as a pilot? Or maybe an aspect I don’t know about and haven’t seen yet...?” The bittersweet scent of her hair deeply embedded in the fifteen cushions she shoved in the plumbing gap.  Terra’s face instantly reddened at the sudden memory. “Er, uh, no–”

“Hmm?”

Terra held her left hand and its minicell as far as she could from her body and covered her face with her right hand. “...Sorry, but could you hold off on that question for now?”

“Hm? So you want to give a well-thought-out answer? All right, all right.”

Terra became more self-aware the more she thought about it. She wanted to meet up with Diode, to look at her face, to talk with her. More than anything, Diode’s capricious presence—tiny in all three dimensions, scampering away at some times and abruptly affectionate at others—was something Terra wanted to use her own hands, her own chest, to–

Fwah ... Terra took a deep breath, doing her best to settle her fluttering heart and rising body temperature. I really need to do something about this, especially my left hand —she thought.

“Now... I believe we should get going soon.”

Terra got her breathing under control and climbed the stairs leading into the control room. The room’s ceiling sloped forward to meet the bow; fourteen reclining seats faced outwards in a radial configuration. A fifteenth seat, the captain’s, was able to swivel around the dashboard. Terra seated herself there, and she felt completely out of place because of its apparent importance. Since she was here all by herself, though, it was where she had to sit.

“We’ve finished our preparations, right? So, are we ready to depart?” Terra’s hand reached for the conspicuous escape button.

“Not yet, the most important thing to do still remains,” Eda replied with a serious face.

“And what would that be?”

“Aren’t you going to name the ship?”

“What? But that’s not even an issue...”

“No, it’s important! Who would do something boring like not giving their spaceship a name? If you won’t name it, I will. Of Insanity , Intolerance , and Inseminate , which is your favorite?”

“I feel like all of those names are terrible. Wait, are you the one who named all those ships that are still around from the early days?”

“That’s right. So, how about Insomnia ?”

“Why?”

“That’s probably in the cards for the two of you.” The woman squinted knowingly and smiled.

When the lunch break ended at 12:59 P.M. on Day 108 of CC 304, a small object not listed among the Circs’ active vessels emerged from the north end of Idaho’s  central shaft like an ancient wine bottle being uncorked. The object, measuring about 20 meters both vertically and horizontally, anchored itself at the port with the sole purpose of extracting and stowing two control pits from a pillar boat’s AMC clay rigging. It was determined that a decomper was onboard the object, since the act had been carried out by decomping.

Once finished, the main engine immediately lit and sent the object hurtling away. Idaho’s  fleet control attempted to track it, but for reasons unknown, it failed to determine the object’s orbital trajectory due to insufficient data. The object was lost.

At 3:40 P.M, a report from the Antiquity District’s media storehouse confirmed that Terra Intercontinental Endeavour had jumped ship without permission.

Fuyō

1

The standard gravitational acceleration as legally defined by the Circs is 9.8 m/s², generally called 1 g . That might sound like the logical choice, but there was more to it than that. Of course, it matched the Galactive Interactive’s legal definition of standard gravity, which in turn matched what was said to be the surface gravity on Earth, that distant planet from long ago. The reality was, though, plenty of societies hadn’t adhered to that standard in the past. From the Bellaphon, a legendary society of fanatical warriors that lived under 3 g  and who fearlessly charged into atmospheres in riding boots, to societies in small non-rotating colonies that dwelled in 0 g , humanity had devised all manner of values for standard gravity over its 6000 years in space.

However, differing standard gravities made exchange between high- and low-gravity societies difficult. Not surprisingly, high gravity took a toll on the bodies of those used to lower gravity, while those adapted to high gravity reported upper body swelling and illness due to the endocrine system’s response to low gravity. A major problem was excessive grip strength, known as “graveyard grip”, which caused all sorts of trouble ranging from crushed handrails and cups to lovers accidentally breaking their partner’s ribs. Handrails or cups weren’t a huge deal, but crushing one’s own partner presented a barrier to both harmony and reproduction. Building close connections was difficult.

With these types of incidents, defining a standard gravity to maintain interstellar exchange became a matter of common sense. At first, it was common sense that could only be followed by societies inhabiting artificial space structures, but gravity became an important factor when looking for new celestial bodies. In addition, adherence to aerobic respiratory accessibility and the Lux Standard also became common practice for the Galactive Interactive.

That said, the Circs’ adoption of the 9.8 m/s² gravity standard was totally meaningless—they were an isolated society that barely participated in interstellar exchange. They were perfectly capable of defining their own standard with few issues. Despite that, the entire fleet of 16 rotating base ships had used 1 g  as their standard since their arrival 300 years ago, making adjustments as necessary to keep the habitats of their outer circumference at a constant 1 g .

It was a curious topic. Changing the standard wasn’t a matter of impossibility. When the Endeavours wanted to expand their Idaho , for example, they adjusted its rotation speed proportionately to keep its outer layers at 1 g . Everything was designed to maintain the standard, but that didn’t explain their decision to do so. At any rate, the fact was that the standard centrifugal force was an Essential Element for those rotating towns in space. Each of the Circs’ base ships had been crafted with that as a major consideration.

Although the 16 spinning base ships all aimed for 1 g  at their outer circumference (with the exception of outlying warehouses and processing plants), they did not share many other points in common. Equipment used for important functions like electric power, communication, purification and such were identical, of course. But when it came to the ships that served as their towns, they came in all kinds of shapes. Idaho  was a donut that had expanded in diameter over the years. The Jack-of-All-Trades’ Table of Johor , as its name might suggest, was a round table. The Xīnxīng’s Jiǎoxīng  was a pentagram, the Radenvijaya’s Mandala  was a collection of circles tangent to a larger circle, and the Gendō’s Fuyō  looked like a flower.

The Gendō asserted that the name Fuyō  came from the ideogram 芙蓉, but the meaning of that ideogram was uncertain. While their base ship presently resembled a hibiscus flower, they weren’t certain that was why it was named Fuyō . Their writing system was extremely ancient, and so they had lost the meaning to many of their own words themselves.

Although the pattern seemed to be that an ideogram’s meaning, sound, and shape were arbitrarily determined by either its resemblance to an object or because they liked how the sound and shape combined, the Gendō strenuously denied that was the reason if asked about it. They would assert that the meanings were traditional and had ancient, honorable origins. Their name, written as 弦道, meant “the shortest route between two points”, and they claimed that was somehow related to the invention of the Guāngguànhuán warp drive. They often shared their vast knowledge of such things, but it wasn’t like that particularly was the only explanation accepted at the Bow Awow. At any rate, the Gendō were a people who behaved as if they had an extensive, 8000-year history with many other unique customs beyond their ideographic script.

Fuyō’s  orbital inclination was set at 78.8° at the previous Bow Awow, so its orbit almost crossed perpendicular to the equator after it undocked from the rest of the fleety. Specifically, it meant that every ten hours, Fuyō  passed just above both auroral belts surrounding Fat Beach Ball’s north and south poles. Huge auroral crowns, up to 28,000 km wide, colored the gas giant’s poles in lightning pink and surge purple.

That was where the Gendō fishers cast their nets.

Fuyō , a giant, charmingly pinkish-red flower almost five kilometers in diameter, was lit by the aurora when it sailed through. The outer edges of the five petals that grew outwards from the center were residential districts. Hospitals, postal centers, and purified water tanks were installed in darker purple connection zones near the inner circumference. At its center was a 0g tower—common to every clan’s base ship—hosting communications facilities and a communal spaceport. Fuyō’s  tower, though, was adorned by numerous yellow, besshu-shaped streamers, the clan’s national flag. Viewed from a distance of about ten kilometers, they almost looked like yellow powder, reinforcing the general image of a large, fully bloomed flower in space. The Gendō took great pride in it.

Flowers also have a reverse side. Observation centers and windows on the front, more-or-less faced Mother Beach Ball, made use of the plentiful light. Meanwhile, ductwork for air conditioning, cargo elevators, and the ascending/descending ran through the back. They were essential, in fact, but it was a confusing, plain area where light couldn’t reach. To put it in floral terms again, they were its sepals. The tubular port at the back end of Fuyō’s  central shaft, equivalent to Idaho’s  north, functioned as its pedicel.

CC 304, Day 108. An unassuming, fishbone-type cargo ship mixed in with the other ships arriving at and departing from the blooming flower Fuyō  and entered the pedicel port after permission was granted by traffic control. Originating from the Jack-of-All-Trades, its name was Insomnia .

“I-is this really going to be okay...?”

Terra anxiously watched the scenery from the Insomnia’s  captain seat as the ship slowly came to port. Unlike the defenseless port back at Idaho , Fuyō ’s was protected by an anti-debris hull resembling a flower bud. A long, uncouth tube pointed menacingly from its crevice-like entrance. A single glance would tell even a novice like Terra what it was.

“That’s a cannon, isn’t it?”

“Yup, it’s a particle beam cannon, and the beam is an eye-catcher. Hehehe, it’s truly a sight to behold.” Professor Eda smiled slightly from the back of Terra’s hand. She was the one currently controlling Insomnia , so Terra was just along for the ride. “Not just that, it’s been around since my time. It’s a relic. So they’re still using it even now, hah.”

“Even though it’s a relic, it can still blow through a façade, can’t it?”

Terra referred to the Insomnia ’s external appearance. They would have been easily caught if they’d kept the same shape they departed Idaho  with, so they modified it to resemble a cargo ship. It was the same method she’d used to give her pursuers the slip while flying through FBB’s rainclouds: decomping.

Naturally, falsifying a ship’s nationality was a crime. Terra wanted to turn back, having not expected such a large cannon, but it was already too late to do so. Another ship was already in line behind hers, forcing her to keep going. Terra searched like a supplicant, glancing back and forth between the ship and the cannon. The trailing ship looked like a flat, crushed pipe, and the longer she looked at it, the more she felt like she’d seen it before.

Eda spoke up, sounding disinterested. “Well, I’m tricking the port’s radar and transponder, so you don’t need to worry about them finding us out. As far as they can tell, we’re a real ship with everything in order.”

“That’s what you’re doing?” Terra asked, her voice rising in surprise. “Actually, I guess you would  be capable of doing that, too.”

“I told you, didn't I? Magiri and I own the the Circ fleet. The Great Chief Code will work, especially if we’re talking about the older systems on a base ship.”

“Well, you did say that, but... Does that mean that you could even do something like open all of Fuyō’s  doors between here and Die-san’s current location?”

“If it’s doors, then sure,” Eda replied, nodding with pride, “I could . But I dunno how people will react if they’re around to see it.”

“I think they’ll work together to close them again.”

“Mhm, that would probably cause a scene.” Eda quickly shrugged. “Even if I can open the doors, odds are Diode-chan wouldn’t understand the situation either. So, someone needs to drag her out of there, and you need a physical body to do that.”

“And you only exist inside this ship, right? Can you help with anythings outside?”

“If I use the radio or in-ship communications, my voice should be able to reach you at least, but hey, they probably have some  security these days.”

“You're even less reliable than I thought you'd be...”

“ Are you serious ? Well, maybe I should have expected that, since it seems the situation you're in hasn’t sunk in yet.” Eda smiled, maintaining her cheeriness with a bright and composed expression. “So, how ‘bout we do a little on-the-job training? Like avoiding a head-on collision, for example.”

“What?”

At that moment, Terra heard the roar of a loud jet and her head jerked sideways. A huge, pink cone flew across the displays serving as windows, spraying a dazzling beam of light from its stern. Terra didn’t recognize the unfamiliar sight, since she was the one usually aboard that kind of ship.

“A pillar boat!”

“Looks like it’s fishing time to go fishing. Oops, here comes another!”

Once again, the Insomnia  slid sideways to avoid it. The second pillar boat claimed the entire centerline for itself and magnificently continued on its way. It must have just separated from the pier, as a prominent jet issued from its main engine.

Terra figured out what was happening after she saw them.

“They’re going nishikigoi fishing...”

“What’s that?” Eda turned her head quizzically.

When Terra asked if she really didn’t know, Eda responded by saying that besshu fishing started only after she died. Feeling the sensation of talking to a dead woman creep through her, Terra started to explain.

“Nishiki is a Gendō word that means ‘vivid aurora’, and koi refers to an incredibly strong fish that darts up with its mouth wide open. So, they’re going out to fish for the ferocious besshu that swim inside the aurora. Naturally, the fishing grounds are in FBB’s polar regions, or should I say, a small area of those regions. I believe the boats all descend at once when they’re aiming there—you don't already know about that besshu?”

“Ahh, I wonder if it’s the one I’m thinking of. A medium-large class besshu, 60 meters in size, actively lives at the poles, and swims upstream with impressive strength.”

“Yes, that’s the one!”

“I call those barracuda. Hmm, so they’re going as far as to fish for those? You’d think the catch efficiency would be lower than schools of smaller besshu.”

“It’s a besshu species can only be caught in the two years their clan’s base ship orbits over the polar regions after the Bow Awow agreement. I think catching nishikigoi is less about efficiency and more about it being seen as a manly, courageous feat.”

“I see, I see,” Eda replied, nodding. She seemed to be enjoying herself judging by the upturned corners of her mouth. “I’ve said this before, but you know your stuff when it comes to fish and fishing, don’t you?”

Terra beamed back at her, full of pride. “That’s because I am  a fisher.”

“That’s a nice smile. While we’re at it, then, I'll give you full points if you can get us docked.”

At some point the Insomnia  had entered through the pedicel port and was beginning to approach the wharf, which resembled a metallic tube. The sight of multiple VUI screens with docking sequences popping up made Terra, confused and unsure of what to do, shriek.

“Wait! Wait, please! It’s my first time on this ship, and properly docking by myself is a bit...”

“Got it, so the titanic Terra-chan can’t handle delicate things. Gotcha...”

Thankfully, Eda was capable. She precisely adjusted all three of the ship’s axes and elegantly docked by moving straight in. Impressed, Terra clapped with her fingertips.

“Woah, cool! But that’s totally different from how Die-san does it.”

“So, Diode-chan’s not great at handling it either?”

“No, she totally is.” Terra shook her head confidently and began boasting. “Die-san has skill, but your docking was almost like how a printhead moves. When it's go-time for her, she moves with so much intensity that it's scary, but she brings it in smoothly and docks gently. She fearlessly balances that contrast, and I really like how her hands and fingers dance while she's doing it. I think it's wonderful.” On instinct, Terra enthusiastically explained Diode’s style.

Staring at her face, Eda whispered in a low voice, “Hah, so that’s your type... I totally wanna see that.”

There were a number of procedures to follow at dock after arrival, but Eda also falsified those. She presented fabricated photos of the ship’s hold and the necessary documents to pretend they were importing 500 duct cleaning robots. At the same time, she seemed to have set up some intricate, hidden electronic trick, as the officer-in-charge for port entry let them in without a second thought.

“What was the plan if that went wrong...?”

“Decompression. We’d have to do something  guaranteed to fool other people’s eyes, right?”

“Like what?”

“Like molding clay into humans.” Eda winked.

And what would we have done after giving the clay a human shape? Attack the port with a clay person army...? I'd rather not do that kind of decomping if possible— Terra thought with conviction. She had gained some level of freedom to act, at least.

“You’ve got five days at most. We don't have a week,” Eda said.

“That’s more than enough time,” Terra replied as she prepared to disembark.

“You think it’ll go that smoothly?”

“I don’t think I can walk around aimlessly for a week without finding her, because we’ll either have failed by then or made our escape.”

“So your heart's set on this, then. That means you’ve figured out which part of her you want most, then? Sneaking into another clan’s town ready to get shot or abducted to rescue one girl from 20,000 people is a plan even the most courageous man would flinch at.”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“And is that a good enough reason for an adult woman to justify taking an underage girl away with her?”

“Uh...?” Terra had been blushing slightly, but the shock of suddenly having the age gap highlighted made her turn around. “S-she's not a minor, though?”

“She is  18, isn't she? You haven't thought that it's might be considered questionable to chase down a girl who's six years younger than you this  seriously?”

“What... You're saying it's that... that sort of thing? Now? At a time like this?”

“Looks like you’re at least a little self-conscious about it. I overstepped. Ignore me, just keep on keeping on, s’all good, I’ll be cheering you on with ‘that sort of thing!’”

“Sorry... but could you please stop? I’ve had enough...”

Terra was clad head to toe in a duct suit. It was an airtight suit with crude protectors on its knees and elbows—the work uniform used by the bacterial engineers responsible for inspecting the water and air pipes in the space settlements. Terra had picked that uniform because not only were there few bacterial engineers, which made it very common for them to travel between clans, but also because the job could be done without showing one's face. The uniform wasn’t light, but thankfully, the port was at 0 g . She gently floated over to the airlock. Her goal was the Gendō girls’ school.

“Well, I’m going now. I’m certain that I’ll be back with Diode.”

“Do your best! If possible, head somewhere you can connect to the network.”

Terra exited the airlock and started into the wharf. She left quickly, since catching the attention of the people who had just arrived at dock beside them wouldn’t be good. Something about their cargo ship bugged her.

2

Supposedly close-knit groups searching for a new land often succumb to partisanship and infighting when they arrive at their destination and face hardship. It hadn't been a rare occurrence across in humanity’s 7000 years in space. The unity of the Circs after arriving at Fat Beach Ball from the Galactive Interactive 300 years ago was an oddity in that respect.

Clans settled small matters between themselves, while bigger matters were negotiated during the Bow Awow. They had coexisted up to the present day without ever turning their base ships’ cannons on one another. The reduction of the original twenty-four clans to the modern sixteen was entirely due to natural population decline.

“What do you think made a life like this possible?”

This was a question posed to kids in elementary school, no matter which clan they were in. The answer teachers gave—human and AI alike—was, “The fact that we brought our strong ideals along with us.”

Indeed, the Circs did bring firm wills and clear ideals to establish themselves in new lands once they arrived in the Mother Beach Ball system. Unfortunately, contrary to their pre-arrival expectations, they were unable to source several critical resources. More fortunately, the abundant fuel at Fat Beach Ball, the planet they had settled around, allowed them to avoid an unpleasant end. Afterwards, they established their besshu export industry with GI and used it to maintain their pacifist lifestyle—this was what nearly every Circ learned growing up. Every year, though, kids were guaranteed to question those teachings.

“Why did a large group of our ancestors leave the Galactive Interactive and settle a remote place like this? I want to ride an apatosaurus in a big savanna and chase morpho butterflies, too.”

“I want to try petting a cat, and gulguiuli  too! Both the red and blue ones! That’s what I want to do when I grow up.”

“I want to board the Dàxúnniǎo .”

To that, human and AI instructors each gave different answers.

AI would respond with a happy smile: “You might be allowed to board if you live a consistently virtuous life.”

A human teacher, by contrast, might wryly respond, “I also attempted to board it, myself...”

The requirements to board the Dàxúnniǎo, which arrived from the GI every two years, were unclear. Anyone could apply, but applications were rarely approved. Rejections came with the explanation that Dàxúnniǎo  was not a passenger ship or for sightseeing, but many believed there was no way the gigantic bird with a sixty-kilometer wingspan wasn’t capable of ferrying a huge number of passengers. Stowaways were tossed out in capsules, and while it was possible some attempts had succeeded, there was no way to confirm it.

Still, the Circs had a few scraps of information from the outside. They were told that there were a variety of planets in the GI—cold planets and hot planets, violently stormy planets and desolate rocky planets, planets with cities and people crowding the roadways and planets shrouded in mist with no people at all. Strangely, though, they weren’t about where they were or how to get there. The Dàxúnniǎo  wouldn't tell them anything about the bright stars in the night sky and feigned complete ignorance of the matter. Both its point of departure and its destination were classified.

It was obvious to the Circs that the Dàxúnniǎo  was controlling their access to information, but they didn’t understand the reasons for doing so. It didn't seem like a simple matter of not wanting Circs onboard, but more a matter of enforcing a decision that carried an air of inviolability. Neither human nor AI instructors dared bring it up.

Surrounded by a universe that treated them like that, most kids simply developed a vague sense of anxiety regarding the outside. The Galactive Interactive was a realm far removed from them, a background prop that was spoken of nicely. In contrast, the Circs’ reality was small and peaceful. They didn’t need to go to the very ends of a galaxy full of empty space, not with another 15 clans right there. The differences in food and customs could be shocking, but it was the kind of shock they could handle. They could only visit another clan every two years, so it would take thirty years to see them all, and an entire lifetime to visit each clan three times. Well, isn’t that experience refreshing enough?

It was rare for a kid to reach a different conclusion. The ideal of settling down somewhere else wasn’t totally out of reach—young people put down roots at FBB feeling that, with nowhere else to flee, the very act of fighting another clan was a dangerous, foolish act.

It was precisely because the Circs were a peaceful society that the other clans needed to deal with the abnormal situation surrounding the conduct of the Gendō clan in CC 304. They had attacked the home of a woman in another clan at night, shot live bullets from a small ship—and as if that hadn’t been enough—forcefully abducted someone from another clan’s base ship. Any one of those was considered an atrocity worthy of compensation and censure.

The reality was that it hadn't been the first time the Gendō clan behaved questionably. In the back half of the previous year CC 303, they had repeatedly taken an aggressive stance by objecting to remarks by the Itar and QOT concerning the Circs’ freedom and criticizing the Jack-of-All-Trades’ proposal to redistribute work between men and women. The problems were mounting, so much so that it was the topic of heavy discussion at the most recent Bow Awow in CC 304. The investigation into the situation and its discussion had taken place behind closed doors, although the Gendō participating in the Council of Elders were also summoned to attend.

That was when it became clear the Clan Chief himself was the source of those issues.Nurude Shikiriyōni Keiwaku, who assumed the role of Gendō Clan Chief the year before last, seemed to have bizarre notions. He made decisions that seemed arbitrary and capricious from an outsider’s point of view. While he got into arguments that seemed pointless at first glance, there were hints they served a deeper purpose—though even those on the Council of Elders were hard-pressed to explain what that purpose was.

The QOT, known for their analytical skill, had a belief verging on total confidence that the Gendō were attempting to provoke a reaction from the others. Taking their actions into consideration, it appeared as if they were quietly gauging how the others would react in the event of an accident or change in circumstances. If that really was the case, then it further hinted at a deeper purpose.

With that in mind, the modern Circs put their differences aside and attentively watched a single ship— Fuyō .

Fuyō , a floral settlement that spun with its face to the sun. Light gleamed off its five petals and their rows of innumerable square windows. Inside them were the Gendō’s dwellings, their offices, classrooms and stores, roadways connecting each residence, parks for the elderly to rest, farms which grew vegetables in abundance, and factories exploiting photochemical reactions—and no matter the window, the profiles of people could be seen in the plentiful sunlight that poured through each one as Fuyō  sailed over FBB’s day side.

Due to their design, most of the Circs’ base ships had given up on their star’s direct light and instead relied on artificial lighting, and so the Gendō took great pride in their Fuyō  receiving light across its wide span. Since sunlight could come in from side-on, it was necessary to think of solutions to things like glare or asymmetric tanning. But whenever other clans complained of such things, the Gendo blew them off as trivial concerns in return for the ability to bask in the plentiful light.

Still, that didn’t mean the Gendō were devoid of people who disliked that light—one such person inside Fuyō  was rummaging around an especially dark place where the light couldn’t reach.

“Being left alone was exactly what I needed, even if it’s not for long...” The faint self-monologue faded into the incessant sound of wind and blackhole darkness of the cramped, endlessly long space. The voice’s owner was crawling through a ventilation duct.

There was a bang and an echoing “ouch”, followed by a small light suddenly switching on. For a moment, a pale, thin, sleek silhouette appeared in the intersection of dust-coated ducts, then disappeared into the darkness again just as quickly.

“Ah, I’m here already?” Its way confirmed, the voice faded out again. If anyone heard it, though, they were more likely to doubt their ears or their sanity.

The voice belonged to Diode, but she wasn’t dressed in her usual deck dress, nor in the fletched kimono and hakama she had recently been given to wear. Her long silver hair was wrapped in a bath towel and a cookie-sized lighting plate hung from her neck. Below that, there was nothing else. Top, bottom, back or front—nothing. In other words, the tiny girl was crawling around on all fours inside the bleak ducts almost completely naked.

Her exact location was a ventilation system exhaust subduct in the Typhoon Palace’s sepal, under the administrative center’s location in Fuyō’s  fifth petal, Year 231 Ring. Or, more simply, in the shadow of the Cabinet Building where she was being held captive, using one of the pathways that lead into a chaotic mechanical sector.

The date was CC 304, Day 109. At some point during the fifteen days since her kidnapping, her General Imagination Concretization Exam had begun, and she’d gone through various tests. She'd just recieved her results earlier that day.

The girl unflinchingly made her way through the long, dark, and cramped space. She stopped just before intersections, sensing the sound change as she approached. Occasionally, she used the lighting plate she’d torn off a wall to read the codes scratched into the duct walls but didn’t feel the need to do so for most turns she took. She smoothly navigated her way left and right through the labyrinth of linked ducts.

Whenever she encountered one of the loud air supply fans that blocked her way at set intervals, she fumbled for its power cable and pulled, released the maintenance latch, then rotated the fan off to the side to allow her to pass through. When vertical sections came up, she relied on the handles that served as a ladder and ascended several tens of meters that way.

That these passages allowed for human access wasn’t odd. Unlike life under a habitable atmosphere, settlements in outer space had to fully recycle their air. Since it was impossible to crack a window for fresh air, the entire volume was joined together with ductwork. A purification center in the central section produced clean air, which was distributed everywhere by a system of ducts for clean air and retrieved by another system of exhaust ducts. Any breakdown inside the ducts could lead to suffocation, so the system used large-diameter pipes which were accessible from the monitoring stations where technicians tracked the air’s chemical composition at the part-per-billion level. It allowed them to swiftly remove any harmful contaminants.

So, it wasn’t the ducts that were strange, but Diode’s being there. She knew their routing, had a sense of direction, could crawl and climb her way through them, and had the determination to reach her goal. It wasn’t the behavior of a girl simply making a break for it.

After twenty minutes of sneaking through the ducts, she saw a faint light ahead—the first light that didn’t come from her. She quietly approached and carefully peeked through an entryway.

The scenery inside was totally out of place. It was at the bottom of a small, rectangular shaft. It was about two meters on a side with a high ceiling, a chamber called an air distribution well. Its walls were full of openings, and, as its name implied, air flowed in from the ducts in its vicinity.

Diode now had another objective to accomplish. Nestled up to the wall was a worn bench that had been picked up somewhere. A table, also borrowed, was placed in the room’s center. Its top was a mess; there was a sketchy-looking information terminal in questionable working order, a general-use printer, along with a mirror and makeup tools. Empty food printer cartridges, plushies, clothes, and shoes were scattered around on the floor; a mattress had been cut in two, with one half forced up against the wall. The bedding strewn around it made it look more like a bird nest than a bed or a sofa.

A lone girl sat on top of the mattress, hugging her knees as she idly watched a concert projected on the tabletop. Her wax-hardened black hair was sculpted to resemble bird wings, and a printed accessory resembling a bird of prey’s eye adorned the right half of her face. She looked quite flashy. Diode didn’t know who she was, but could guess what  she was, since she wore the same fletched kimono and hakama given to her.

The girl was a student from the Gendō girls’ school.

Their ideal was stated as, “Grace and wellness. Our setting maintains the tradition of raising and teaching girls to weave outstanding nets.” The Gendō girls’ school would never allow a student of theirs to relax in a messy hideout within the ducts.

After glimpsing that forbidden sight, Diode paused for a moment to breathe. She’d already expected an obstacle, but it didn’t mean she could totally let her guard down yet. She only stuck her face through the opening and knocked on the wall.

“Hello, are you weaving a net?”

Surprised, the girl looked in her direction and replied, “‘Sup. Yeah, I’m weaving, uh...”

They had exchanged a codeword and not a greeting, and the exchange more-or-less signaled they were fellow travelers. Whether they actually felt  like they were was another question altogether. Naturally, the sudden appearance of an unfamiliar girl put the student on guard.

Her eyes sharpened into a glare at Diode. “Who are you?”

Diode couldn’t afford to pick a fight. It was possible she could carefully talk her way in, but she couldn’t think of anything that might persuade the girl. The only option was to tell the honest truth.

“I’m Kanna Ishidōrō Gendō. I used to be a regular here. I came to use the equipment here, for reasons. Is it okay if I come in?”

“What? Who?” The girl frowned again and stood. She was only average height, but she had a very imposing physique. This could turn ugly —Diode readied herself to jump back and run for it.

The other girl’s eyes shot open. “Kanna... Kanna... Tiny body, silver hair... One-Bottle Kanna-san, is it really you?!”

“...Is this about that time I drank too much medicine?” Diode grimaced. Not too long ago, while doing the usual stupid things with her stupid friends, she’d knocked her own lights out doing the stupidest thing possible. It happened while they were having fun popping weak, candy-like sleep meds together.

She’d adopted her current nickname after that. Her friends, who she'd only recently met, all thought she got cocky and did something crazy to try and prove herself—and it was precisely that belief that led to their  nickname for her.

However, the face of the girl in front of her suddenly lit up. “Yeah, that! That’s what I am talking about! You swallowed all the leftover medicine and ran off so the other girls wouldn’t get caught, didn’t you, Kanna-san? You took care of the evidence! Right? Right?”

“...How did you know that?” Her reply meant, I thought I was the only one who saw it that way.

However, the girl took Diode’s reply as confirmation, then got up and came over to Diode without a second thought.

“So, it is  true, isn't it? Your face tells the whole story, doesn’t it?! Dude, I can’t believe all of that was true, that’s so rad! You’re this seriously crazy cool person who did a lot of drugs, got one over on teachers, broke tables in anger, and became a fugitive from the shopping district vigilantes after you lit up three stores! And if that wasn’t enough, you jumped ship and then boarded a fishing boat! Like, what?!”

“Why do you know so much ...?” Diode had some points of disagreement about the level of violence being described, but everything the girl said was true for the most part. It took her by surprise, since she had been certain she was about to be mocked again.

“Meika-san told us about it! And that you also made this hideout happen by crawling around the ducts in search of a good place!”

“...Right.”

“Ah, I’m Ranju, a couple behind Meika—er, it is my pleasure to study two grades behind her! Ranju Yomosugara Tachimachi! I’m so happy to meet the lege—I mean, it is my pleasure to become acquainted with the legendary Kanna-senpai!”

“Legendary? I haven’t even been gone a year, though...”

Ranju completely dropped her defensive posture and excitedly leaned towards Diode’s face. Diode, who looked troubled, responded with a slow, uncertain nod. She was disgusted by the thought that Meika’s praise was responsible for a junior treating her fondly for the first time. That said, amicability was amicability.

“So, what do you wa—er, what brings you to grace this humble hideout with your presence, Kanna-senpai? Ask me anything-please-andthankyou!!”

Since Ranju was offering, Diode gratefully took her up on the offer.

Before she borrowed the equipment, Diode was tossed an airtight jacket as a temporary loan. (Her nudity worried Ranju somewhat, but she had to accept Diode’s explanation that she came to the hangout by escaping through the baths.) Then, she sat down and booted up the communications terminal on the table.

“The truth is, I’m here to contact someone on the outside.”

“Outside meaning... another clan? You know that’s forbidden, right?”

“Yeah, I do, but if there’s anything that’s sure to get through, it’s this, right?”

Diode manually operated the terminal’s old input device. Meika had somehow gotten her hands on it and provided it for the space. Diode had mentioned watching underground Content shoulder-to-shoulder with her friends here to Terra.

Contacting anyone outside of the clan was forbidden, but Diode had an account on the terminal allowing her to do so. After booting it up, she went through her individual authenticator and sent a request to contact another clan—it didn’t go through.

She didn’t give up, though. Diode still remembered the alts, fake accounts, and others’ legitimate accounts she had collected just for this eventuality, trying one after another. None worked.

“Unnnngh...” Diode threw up her hands and thought through her next best option.

Ranju shyly piped up. “Not to bother you, but if you need to talk to another clan... I have an account too, honest...”

“Really?” Diode asked, reflexively pivoting towards her. “Could you lend it to me?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t mind, but—can you tell me who you’re talking to and what it’s about?”

Diode stared at her, and Ranju stiffly turned her eyes away as she replied, “I mean, using accounts for that usually gets them suspended, so, um, lending it out without knowing why feels a bit... You know?”

Of course, her question was mostly curiosity about what would drive her “legendary senpai” to go that far. The possibility of another reason kept Diode on her toes, though. That said, it seemed to Diode that Ranju had been fond of her from the start of this encounter, and the girl acted like her friends—a secret tomboy outside of school. Diode decided it was safe to tell her.

“I scored a seven.”

“Excuse me?”

“The General Imagination Concretization Exam, the one to become a decomper. I scored seven points on it, you see.”

“...Seriously? Can a student in the girls’ school even score that badly?”

“Don't give me that.” Diode could understand Ranju’s genuine surprise, so she forced a smile. “There is one—me. I did. I’m the student who scored the all-time low.””

Nurude had gotten the results that morning. He must have already realized that Diode was a girl completely useless at decomping, and the most valuable decomper in history was actually her partner. It meant he was probably scheming to bring Terra over to Fuyō .

Only now? Really?  It was all Diode could say to how long it had taken others to realize how good Terra was, but that realization inevitably meant that she was in increasing danger. One way or another, Diode needed to get in touch to let her know, however far she needed to push herself.

“There are just so  many ways to communicate with foreign clans. Maybe I should have hacked into the central communications tower or passed a paper letter at the spaceport instead? Neither of those sound like tall orders for the legendary One-Bottle Kanna, do they?” Diode punctuated her explanation for coming here with a dramatic thwack of the table.

Ranju listened to her quietly, but nodded and responded, “Got it.” She started to input her account name in the terminal. Diode wasn’t sure Ranju actually understood but left her to handle the inputs.

“I think it’ll connect this time...”

After entering the connection instructions on the terminal, Ranju turned to Diode. The two watched with bated breath until an image of twenty-four points circling a planet eventually appeared.

“Yes...!” “It worked!”

Diode immediately tried calling Terra’s minicell and the Intercontinental house back at Idaho , but the calls were rejected. It hadn’t been refused on the basis of coming from an unknown sender—the reason was clearly stated as a rejected interclan server connection.

“Wha? What’s up with that?”

“Um, can I check something?” Ranju seemed to be knowledgeable about those operations, so Diode swapped places with her to let her investigate.

Before long, the reason became clear. Terra was headline news.

< The 58K decomper jumped ship in an unidentified spacecraft >

“Terra-san...!”

Diode automatically looked up at the ceiling. Of anything that could happen, it had been this, and with the worst timing. But now that it was happening, her only choice was to think through her options with the assumption Terra was on her way.

She needed to escape and meet up with Terra somehow, but she would get caught immediately if she ran now. She needed a different way to sneak out once Terra arrived. For that, she needed a helping hand from someone she trusted, plus a surefire method of contacting them—one with absolute secrecy.

How am I going to manage that?  Bothered, Diode covered her face.

Ranju spoke up. “Senpai... Could I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Was that woman your new girlfriend?”

Diode immediately stopped breathing. She started to think about how much of this she could innocently play off, but the word “new” said plenty about what Ranju already knew.

“...Did you hear that from Meika?”

“Yeah, she’s told me about you,” Ranju replied, smiling wryly.

If the situation was different, I wouldn’t mind talking a little bit about how I feel about all kinds of things— Diode thought. Time was short, though.

As tersely as possible, she replied, “We work together in the same pillar boat. That, and she’s someone important to me.”

“I see. And she cherishes you just as much?”

“Yeah, I don’t have any doubt about that. Terra-san is the kind of person who can cherish others, or, more specifically, me.” Diode immediately got the feeling she had been too earnest.

“Heh, that’s nice,” Ranju replied with a faint smile. “I see, so she’s the kind of person you’re willing to deal with the trouble of crawling through the ducts for the sake of getting in touch...”

Ranju softly rubbed her fingertips together. It made her seem like an entirely different person compared to when she had been glaring or gesturing happily. Diode took her as someone who contained multitudes when expressing herself.

“Why are you here today?”

“Meika-san told... No, I mean—I can’t dress like this or listen to this sort of music back in the dorms.”

Ranju touched her hair, which she had probably done up only after coming here, and displayed the concert that had been playing on the terminal when Diode showed up.

“Meika-san approached me after I got caught listening to this back at the dorms and told me there was a place I could do this kind of thing to my heart’s content. Then, well... after that she became someone I got along with. She’s a nice person.”

“Right.”

“But she does that a lot with others, too, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, don’t I know it.”

“I’m sure.”

Then again, you would  know that too,  Diode thought.

It was time to retreat. Diode printed a single paper towel from the general-use printer on the table and thoroughly wiped between her fingers as she stood up and announced she was headed back.

“You’re going back? Not running away?” Ranju asked, confused.

Diode smiled back, a little sharply. “It’s almost like you knew I’d come here trying to escape something.”

“N-no...”

“They’d find me soon enough if I ran away here, so I’m going back now. Ah, right, thank you for lending this to me, I’ll be taking it,” Diode told Ranju. She thought it might be a little weird to undress again, so she crawled into the duct wearing the airtight jacket.

“Err, catch you later! I mean, please, take care!” Ranju shouted from behind her.

Diode backtracked along the route she had come in. That route would be a maze to an outside observer, but as she went through, she left everything how she found it, resetting the fans she had turned off and erasing all traces of her presence. Halfway back, she tore the hand towel into small pieces and let them float off in the wind.

Finally, she arrived at the bright tunnel near the exit. She removed the jacket, then crawled on her belly to emerge feet first from the hole. The hole was an open vent high up on the walls of a large room, and Diode dangled from its edge using only her grip strength. Just as she was about to hop down, palms supported her feet from below, and Diode’s skin instantly erupted in goosebumps.

“Feel free to climb down on me, Kanna-san.” Diode looked down. Meika was raptly looking back up at her. “This is quite the pleasant sight. You’re as stunning as ever.”

Completely nude, Diode maintained a neutral expression and replied, “Why are you there?”

“I assumed you would have a difficult time climbing down.”

“Quit lying.”

“It was because you ran away, of course. Well, you’re forgiven, since you came back.”

“Could you stop staring at me so hard?”

“You’re cute, so I believe that will not be possible.”

Diode shifted her weight onto Meika’s palm in an effort to intentionally lose her footing, but Meika easily handled it and lowered her to the floor.

Steam shrouded the womens’ public bath in the Typhoon Palace. There was no one else there, despite bathing time approaching. Meika must have pulled strings to keep people away. Not long ago, Diode had left the baths using a mop as a ladder to climb into the vent. She had come to escape Jigō’s watch, since men weren’t allowed in the womens’ baths. In exchange, she had to settle for crawling around the ducts in the nude.

Enjoying herself, Meika continued, “Can you guess how I knew about this?”

“Come on. You used Ranju.”

“So you noticed? Oh my.”

“I think catching an honest girl to use like that is disgusting.”

Meika’s face remained unchanged despite Diode’s harsh, direct words. That was the sort of woman she had always been.

The Gendō clan’s iconic public baths came in both modern and old styles. The one here was old-style, and the high-class kind to boot. A giant bathtub with a twenty-person capacity and standing stalls for rinsing were surrounded by a garden projection behind naturally cultivated plants. It was the kind of space people could come in as they pleased, walk as they pleased, and clean as they pleased. Or, in other words, there was no mechanism to get in the way of looking. Or touching.

Meika let go of the bath towel that covered her and sat on an ornamental stone nearby. She extended her right hand. “You were exposed to the wind for quite a while, so you need a proper warming up. Would you care to join me?”

“You should save that invitation for someone who cares about you.”

Despite the beauty of Meika's exposed body, Diode freed her hand and left for the dressing room.

3

A rather large figure in a duct suit groaned in front of a "Public Bath" sign hung over an alley. The undeniably suspicious person was side-eyed by kimono-wearing passersby who kept their distance.

“I'm certain Die-san of all people would understand... no, if you think about it, she'd... Then again, this isn't a matter of life and death... mmmgh...” the figure anxiously grumbled to itself.

Five days after disembarking, Terra had run into a problem. She already had an idea of Diode’s whereabouts: the administrative area known as the Typhoon Palace, located near the tip of Petal Five. Eda had discovered a girls’ school nearby and hints of someone being held captive in the area by infiltrating into their telecommunications systems.

The issue was that the location was on the outer circumference of Fuyō’s  five-kilometer diameter—or 2500 meters from the spaceport—and Terra was restricted to using a slow cargo elevator which made it absolutely impossible to get there and back in a day. For that reason, she needed to stay in the urban area near the Typhoon Palace while she pinpointed Diode’s location and planned a rescue. At some point during day three, though, she had started to hit a limit.

Terra spent all of her time lurking in the shadows and ducts to avoid being seen by others. Her duct suit’s airtight design even allowed safe entry into ducts with bacterial outbreaks. Even though she only wore hers for the sake of camouflage, it was still awfully stuffy. To put the situation delicately, she hadn’t showered and changed as usual. The Gendō clan didn’t have hotels or the like for tourists in their urban areas, so the only option was the public baths Terra had heard about.

Public bathing. Undressing and rinsing yourself with warm water in the same space as others. It was a custom that Terra’s clan—and the majority of the others, for that matter—didn’t have, and she would much rather avoid it if possible.

If she didn't, though, she’d be in a rather unsavory condition when she made contact with Diode. While she felt it was a little weird to care that much about appearances in a life-or-death situation, she did not  want to meet Diode like that. Her ambience had only gotten worse in the two days since she had started to feel concerned about hygiene, and it finally brought her to the entrance of this establishment.

I’ve been brooding over this for 15 minutes already– Terra thought, as just then she felt something beside her gently make contact with her arm.

“What are ya up to, gaijin-san?”

“S-sorry? Gaijin... me?”

Looking down in surprise, she found what seemed to be an average middle-aged woman. She held a stick resembling a short cane in one hand, but Terra couldn’t tell what it was. The older woman, looking back up at her, smiled at Terra’s response.

“Of course yer a gaijin. Yer from another clan, aren’cha? Gendō don’t helplessly wander around town dressed like that.”

“Ah, right. Well, you’re not wrong...”

“A gaijin-san dawdlin’ about outside the bathhouse? Yeah, I thought so. Ya wanna go in? Don’t know how?”

“It’s not so much about knowing how and more like I’m not mentally prepared to, uh, go in...”

“Nothin’ to it! Drop a coin in, strip, and the water goes fwssssh . Guy like you could just waltz right in without a care in the world.”

“Um.” Without thinking, Terra opened the visor of the duct dress’ unclassy helmet. “I’m a woman.”

“Huuuh, yer a woman? Daaamn, you’re big for one!” She took a step back to appreciate Terra in her entirety, then stepped closer again, impressed. “Well, with yer size, ya wouldn’t have nothin’ ta worry about either. By the way, this is a new-style bath, so it’ll all be fine anyway. I’m goin’ in too, so tag along with me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Nothin’ ta worry about! It’s just bein’ naked. No one’s gonna run ya out. Come on now.”

The woman gave Terra’s back a push. Instead of a door to conceal the inside, a sheet was hung across the entrance—one of the Gendō clan’s traits, it seemed, was a love of banners. Terra passed through and entered the public bath.

“W-wait, I’m still not–”

She was in an unknown place, receiving encouragement from a stranger, and probably about to get completely naked. Terra timidly inched forward, but she stopped in her tracks the moment she saw inside.

There were two portholes in the wall, and people were popping out of one. Each person wore the same kimono, and they had an air of refreshment in their flushed cheeks and cheerful expressions. After a graceful landing, they made their way to a small room off to the side lined with benches that looked like a breakroom. The people who had entered the bathhouse ahead of Terra flung themselves head-first into the other porthole. She couldn’t make anything out in the darkness inside of it.

“Do I just go in there?”

“Ya gotta pay first, silly. Ya got any small change?”

Terra did, sort of. She had brought a roll of silicon coins denominated in the Circs’ shared currency, which had a worse exchange rate than the digital currency. Just  what am I supposed to do here?

She watched the middle-aged woman, who was going in first, insert three coins into a slot next to the chute. “Come on in, the water’s fine!” She waved her hand and hopped in.

“So this is a public bath...”

Terra was paralyzed, and feeling the presence of other people, turned around to see they had calmly formed a silent line behind her. Panicking, she tried to give up her turn, but no one took her up on the offer. It seemed a rigid respect for the queue was another Gendō custom.

“I, umm, I... agh, fine!”

She hadn’t even removed her clothes like she thought she was supposed to, but then again, the woman hadn’t either. Partly giving into despair, Terra paid the three coins and jumped into the chute.

As soon as she entered, she was carried off with a firm push. She couldn’t tell if the pressure was compressed air or a water jet. To her surprise, the various fasteners and air seal latches on her duct suit undid themselves, and the detached arm, leg, and torso sections washed away somewhere. Terra thought she caught a glimpse of a precision manipulator, but things were moving so quickly she couldn't get a better look.

At that same moment, she came to a stop with a splash of warm water, at which point she realized she had been floating on air. She couldn’t move, though, as nozzles started spraying her from all directions.

“Wait! Wait!”

Breathing in and out was the only movement afforded to her, despite the fear she was about to drown. Water jets rolled her around like a ball bearing, but they didn’t knock the wind out of her. Hair spilled out as her helmet came off but fluttered around her head without tangling or wrapping around her neck. Despite her disorientation, she still registered that she was getting an intense cleaning.

The cleaning came to a sudden stop and Terra felt a thud. She was lying on her back, and it was so still that the earlier frenzy almost felt unreal. Her whole body felt like it was wrapped in warm cloth. She let out a momentary sigh of relief, then realized she couldn’t move her limbs.

“Gaijin-san, ya made it! Were ya surprised?”

Terra looked for the voice and found the middle-aged woman from earlier off to the side, laughing. She only saw the woman’s head; nothing below it was in view. The woman looked like she was inside a human-sized water tank, and Terra realized she was also trapped inside the same type of tank. The next thing she knew, other women were dropping into tanks in the narrow room one after another and then were carried deeper inside the bath on a conveyor one-by-one.

Terra looked around incredulously. “Yes, it surprised me. My clothes practically undressed themselves, and I thought I was going to drown.”

“Ahaha, everyone gets a surprise like that with the prewash suddenly kickin' on an’ all. But ya don’t gotta worry ‘bout drownin’ since it avoids your face. Careful though, it’ll do yer head soon!”

“What? That was the prewashing?!”

“Ya get a deep-clean here. Now, when are those bubbles gonna get ta bubblin’? Hm?”

“Bubbling...? Ah, right.” Terra wanted to flee as the tank that hid her body from view quickly came to a simmer. “It’s like I’m in a pot and about to get stewed.”

“Ya ain’t stewin’, it’s just the body wash! Just relax, it’s like gettin’ a massage. Ah, but your hea—” As the woman spoke, Terra felt her head nearly get swept away by the current of the hair wash, which prevented her from talking more.

Even though she had been warned the face wash was coming, it still caught her by surprise, and she ended up choking on swallowed water. However, the equipment seemed capable of detecting if someone was drowning and paused the wash until Terra’s coughing fit finished—along with the entire industrial-scale cleaning line, much to her surprise. Panting, she somehow caught her breath, but once the tank line started to move again she heard another person shout, “Just get used to it already, gaijin-san!”

Afterwards, she was once again tossed around by a violent rinse, then gently swaddled and dried with sponges. This might actually be a lot nicer than I thou —just as she was getting used to it, she suddenly found herself wrapped in the same kimono as the others and sent out through the porthole. She wasn’t ready, though, and stumbled all the way to the bathhouse’s entrance before the middle-aged woman caught her.

“Whoa there, ya can’t leave yet, ya still gotta pick up yer clothes at the back of the breakroom first.”

“This place is really thorough, isn’t it? But if you ask me, it’s also a little intense...”

“That’s right, everything’s finely crafted here on Fuyō . Just relax, gaijin-san, and let yerself enjoy it!” The woman spoke to her in a friendly tone as she got her first full look at Terra. “Wait a sec, don’t I recognize ya from somewhere? Hmm...”

Hearing that, Terra nervously shrank back. “Ah, thank you so much for your help! Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

She grabbed a towel from a pile and hastily escaped as she covered her head. She retrieved her duct suit from the break room and crouched somewhere hidden from view by the rows of benches.

She sniffed around under her arm. Well, that’s good enough— Nodding to herself, she smiled painfully as she wondered just what it was she was doing in a place like this.

A flat display mounted on the breakroom wall ran Interclan programming. Among the programs: an Itar cooking show introducing the latest trend in printer cooking (the baby fish oil simmer), a QOT Clan Orchestra string concert, and the issuance of a Mother Beach Ball stellar flare warning. At first glance, information from other clans appeared to flow in freely, but in reality, only inoffensive material was being shown.

Terra was certain, if her memory served, that “gaijin” was a Gendō term used solely for the purpose of highlighting and excluding outsiders. Despite that, the woman she had been talking to really didn’t seem mind. Terra wondered if it was because the Gendō were already so familiar with the rest of the Circs that it was hard for them to distinguish themselves from the outside.

Posted next to the display was an impressively old-looking washi paper diagram that carefully listed the various benefits of bathhouses like this one to the general public. Among the points were the importance of hygiene in the prevention of disease outbreaks and the power savings of increased efficiency. It also stated that since the throughput of the tank-conveyor bath was 2.5 people per hour higher than an old-style bath, it was a high-efficiency power saver that any virtuous Gendō was sure to love. The bathhouses were an idiosyncratic custom, but since they were normal if not virtuous for the Gendō, avoiding them wasn’t trivial. They seemed to be a society that fully at ease with the custom.

—So, do they actually bathe together naked in the old-style ones?  As that thought distracted Terra while she hid in a corner and cooled off, someone sat down beside her and quietly spoke to her.

“Terra Intercontinental-san.”

Terra’s breath hitched in response. It was a different woman from the middle-aged woman she had been talking to, but Terra hadn’t shared her name with anyone.

Undaunted, the woman continued. “It is you, isn’t it, Terra-san? There’s no point playing deaf.”

“...Who are you?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

Terra looked beside her, and the dark brown woman looked like she had also just gotten out of the bath. Her coarse, brass-colored hair flowed to the back of her seat. She side-eyed Terra. She didn’t seem to be from the Gendō clan.

“Maybe this will help you recognize me.” She grabbed her hair with both hands and held it out beside her. That look, along with the memory of seeing someone with the same cheery behavior, suddenly clicked for Terra.

“...Ah!” Terra exclaimed, her voice rising. “You’re Pri-san, right?! The Trades–”

“Shh!” Pri, or Prizebag Backyard Build Jack-of-All-Trades, covered Terra’s mouth with her hand and winked. “Yes, that’s me, so keep it down, please. It’s not like I’m a wanted criminal or anything, but still, I’d rather not draw attention.”

“...Why are you here?”

“You see, I’m quite the fan of how modern Gendō baths work,” Pri calmly responded. “It does make me feel like I’m a vegetable in a soup factory, but I appreciate getting cleaned all the way down to my toes. Cheap, too.”

“No, you and I both know that’s not—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m here because I was following you.”

“Following me...? Why?!”

“You’re asking the right question, but it’s a long story so I’ll save the explanation for later,” Pri replied, then quickly leaned in close to Terra. “I’m here to collect you. Someone’s looking for you, and that someone is my employer.”

“Who?”

“Someone who really needs you.” Pri narrowed her eyes mischievously. “And someone who is very difficult to chat with, shall we say.”

“Why should I go with you?”

“You can meet up with Diode-san if you do.”

“Lead the way.” Terra had a bad premonition but answered with zero hesitation.

They ascended straight to Fuyō’s  central section. It was a 2500-meter trip, but since Terra had boarded the high-speed elevator with Pri, it took no more than 30 minutes. It never would have been available for a suspicious outsider clad in a duct suit to use, but when Pri held her minicell up to it, its gate opened without issue.

By the time Terra noticed they had made it all the way back to the spaceport, she was already passing it and being guided further into the central section. They made their way through zero- g  passages, dead quiet after bath and dinnertime. After passing through countless doors labeled “Authorized Personnel Only”, they entered a facility where especially large pipes converged from every direction.

It was the entrance to Fuyō’s  air purification center.

Things were moving along too quickly. Terra held her minicell close to her face and repeatedly tried calling Professor Eda as they made their way through the bleak, lifeless passages, but no response came, possibly due to bad connection or a security block. She reluctantly gave up and started asking Pri questions as she led the way.

“Pri-san, how are you able to enter a place like this? It goes without saying you’re from the Trades.”

“Curious, innit? How strange!”

The woman, supposedly the inhaler for a helium extractor, laughed it off, but Terra felt uneasy. Her characteristic imagination began to run wild, coming up with even the unlikely scenarios.

“Since you’re letting me meet Diode, then I’m assuming you’ve already secured her? Does that mean you’re trying to get us as a pair to demand a ransom from both the Gendō and Endeavour clans?”

“While my clan does stress the importance of money, we’re not pirates.”

“Then, uhhh... Did you get us swept up in a search for some hidden, ancient treasure locked away within the Gendō clan? And you were able to use the elevator because you’ve got a buddy who’s good at hacking? And you’re planning to team up with Die-san and me to crack the safe? Is that it...?”

“You’re an interesting one, Terra-san. I’m not up to anything like that.” Pri burst into laughter. Opening the door to a room, she said, “Okay, we’re here.”

It was a totally ordinary room about ten paces on a side. It was what one would expect to exist in a purification center. A tangled mess of pipes ran along the walls, splitting away into countless valves, faucets, and tanks of various sizes. A touch-fasten desk for zero- g  environments was covered in traditional test tubes, blenders, extractors, extraction containers, reagents, and so on. In other words, the desk was piled with gas analysis tools and equipment.

In front of it stood a small figure that wore a freshly-printed aquatone full-body suit and a face shield, holding eight tubes—one between each finger—and comparing them with a scarily serious expression. The sight reminded Terra of a character that she had seen pop up in old Content: the so-called mad scientist.

What’s up with that person?  A bit stumped, she watched without a single word.

The person suddenly looked up at Terra, and surprised, shouted “Whoa! Who’s this lumbering galoot?”

Terra felt a little offended. Her stature surprising others was nothing new, but something like ‘lumbering galoot’ didn’t happen often. No matter how you slice it —she stopped that thought as she had a sudden realization.  I forgot I was wearing this overblown disguise.

From the voice and mannerisms, Terra could tell that this other person was probably a man. She looked at Pri standing beside her, but all she did was extend her hand to encourage her with no explanation as usual. If she accepted everything at face value, this guy was just an analytical scientist working at the purification center, but in that case she had no idea what business she might have with him. At any rate, she had no choice but to reveal her face.

Terra opened her duct suit’s visor, then removed her helmet. Her messy blonde hair spilled out, so she brushed it behind her and spoke. “My name is Terra Intercontinental Endeavour. I came because I heard that Diode-san... er, Kanna-san was here.”

“Hah.” The man sighed in admiration at the sight. He gave Terra a careful look and then spoke with absolutely no sign of restraint. “You’ve got a good face, but it’s completely wasted on the rest of your appearance.”

The constant disrespect finally got under Terra’s skin, so she replied, “Do you go around summoning others just to say things like that?! Well, that might be okay for you —but seriously, why do you have eight test tubes?”

“Oh, funny you should ask.” Impressed, he blinked and looked at all the test tubes he held between the fingers in each of his hands. “There has been a miniscule increase in ozone levels from multiple locations within Fuyō , so I am comparing samples to identify the source, but that is something I can work on later. I’ll deal with you first, Intercontinental. Hrm...”

In one smooth motion, the man returned the eight test tubes to their rack, then approached her by holding the rails leading to the desk. He removed his visor, which was at about chest level on Terra, and looked up at her.

His dark blue eyes had a sharp twinkle to them, and for a moment they almost seemed like a young boy’s—but the wrinkles around his eyes and graying hair showed his real age. Terra could easily tell he was older than her, and guessed he was in his forties.

“So this is the Endeavour’s 58K decomper... You really did come.”

“And you are...?”

“Who I am doesn’t matter right now, what matters is the fact that you’re here. You shouldn’t have come to Fuyō , Intercontinental.”

“What?” Terra asked, taken aback. “What does that mean?”

“Or should I say, I wonder if there’s a way to make you vanish from here?” The man grabbed a different test tube with a yellow toxic substance label attached. “It would be much simpler if you just vanished.”

“What?!” Sensing danger, Terra tensed up and looked at Pri. “What is he doing? Is he a murderer? Was this all a set-up?”

“No, no, it’s nothing. He’s just like that.” Pri also seemed baffled. She turned to the man and spoke. “Chief, you make it sound like you want Terra to sock it to you. You sure about that?”

“What? Is she a person who puts socks on others?”

“Figure of speech. She wouldn’t do that... probably... Anyway, what I mean is, are you trying to make an enemy of Terra-san?”

“I was doing nothing of the sort. Merely thinking of a plan,” he replied indifferently, placing the toxic substance back on the desk. “All I want is this woman called Terra Intercontinental to answer my questions. So, what are you doing taking a girl belonging to my family around with you?”

“Family?” Several words came together in Terra’s mind. Chief wasn’t used much casually these days, although long ago it was an idiom referring to a fleet captain. So, if he was saying Diode, who belonged to the Gendō, was family, that meant... “Are you the Clan Chief?!”

“I’m the one asking questions here, Intercontinental,” he replied in annoyance. “Why did you try to take Kanna away? She’s a Gendō, and she belongs here.”

“I didn’t take anyone away or anything else of the sort!”

If he really was the Clan Chief, then Pri’s earlier insinuations made total sense. Maybe he was here because he wanted an off-the-record meeting, but in that case, it also meant Terra had no reason to respect his position. If anything, it allowed her to speak her mind.

“Wasn’t it the Gendō who took her away?! Weren’t you the ones to kidnap her?! You tied her up and dragged her back here despite her leaving on her own volition to pilot a boat like she wanted to. You aren’t even calling Die-san by her name. Die. San. She wants to be called Diode, so call her that! Even if it is  a weird name!”

“You still haven’t answered my question! You’re giving the same excuses a wicked mindcracker or ancient cult leader would,” the man calmly responded. “You lure your victims in with pretty words and convince them that your desires are their desires, so they ignore everything their family and people from their hometown say. What makes you any different?”

“I’m a fisher! A decomper!” Terra looked down and made sure she was firmly hooked on the footbar before resuming the argument. “What’s so strange about a decomper coming to rescue her twister?!”

“I’ve never heard of anything as outrageous as a decomper doing everything in her power to get a young girl aboard a boat with her!” His reply matched Terra’s level of anger. “A person from the Gendō clan doing something like that is unheard of! Are there any other Endeavour like that? I dare you to answer that there are! Just what  sort of fishing are they doing over there?!”

“Um... No, there’s nobody else at the Endeavour clan like that.” The conversation had entered difficult territory, and Terra struggled for an answer. “I want to fly with Die-san’s piloting and Die-san told me herself she wants me to make her nets. Is it really that beyond the pale...?”

“Are you that set on stressing that point? So what you’re saying is, it’s for the sake of your fishing results. Hm, that’s a practical–” He stopped to think for a moment, and in a slightly calmer tone, continued, “Let me ask you a different question, then. What are you planning to do out in the GI?”

“G–” A chill ran down her spine. “GI... w-what are you talking about?”

“What are you and Kanna planning to do, running off to the Galactive Interactive . That’s what I want to know.” He glared as he spoke the full name. “That’s a reckless plan. You don’t know what will happen to you if you go to the GI with no plan. Anyone would tell you that. Have you thought about that yourself? Have you?!”

“How do you know about that?!”

“This again? I loathe  people who won’t give a straight answer to my questions!”

“Well, you’re doing the same thing, aren’t you?!” Terra frantically shouted. “Please answer me, where is Die-san? Let me talk about this together with her!”

“Heeeey, excuse me you two, but may I ask something?” Pri cut in with a sour face as their argument was crossing a boiling point. “Since this is a private matter, I’ve avoided butting in as much as possible, but this conversation has gotten weird... So wait, Terra-san, you want to go to the GI? And you want to take Diode with you?”

“...”

“You really do, huh? You’re thinking of doing something crazy difficult, which reminds me, how you got all the way over to Fuyō  is also still a mystery. So, I’m safe in assuming you’ve got some sort of trump card, yeah?”

“...” Terra remained silent, but her face was dripping with cold sweat. She was the kind of person who was better off not lying her way out.

The corner of Pri’s mouth slightly curled upwards. “Looks like you do—so, Chief,” she said, turning to look at the man. “That’s what’s worrying you, yes?”

“Of course. Someone here is trying to force Kanna to go to some far away place she doesn’t know a thing about, and that person’s motives are incomprehensible. So, I thought maybe she had some sort of plan I didn’t know about, and I’d be able to understand it if she explained.”

“Of course, of course. Well, um...”

“What is it, Backyard Build?”

“Please, just call me Pri. Never mind, what I mean is, do you reeeaaaally not understand the relationship between Terra-san and Diode-san?”

“You mean there’s a relationship beyond just fraud?”

Pri made another face like she had just swallowed something unpleasant. Then she turned apologetically to Terra. “I’m sorry. I kept quiet because I wanted to see the surprised look on his face, but I didn’t expect him to be this clueless. Well, this doesn’t make any sense to you either, huh?”

“Nope. I don’t understand a thing at all...”

“Then, let me clear one thing up. This guy’s not the Clan Chief.”

“Huh?”

“He’s Ozuno Ishidōrō Gendō-san.”

“Huh?” Terra blinked four times and took another good look at him. The man made a face as if to say, “So what if I am?”  Terra took a firm hold of both his shoulders and looked even more closely. For the first time, the man’s face visibly lost its composure.

“What? Hey, too close!”

“...That reaction!” Terra’s sensor, which had lately gotten finely tuned, detected a familiar pattern. “Are you Die-san’s father?!”

“I already called her family, didn’t I?”

“I mean, that’s an expression a Clan Chief would use–” The situation caught up to her mid-speech, and still grasping his shoulders, lowered her head dejectedly. “...I get it now. It wasn’t family in the formal sense, but literally family. So, you’re actually her parent.”

“Yes, it is in the genetic sense.”

“I’m sorry, this was all a big misunderstanding. Since that’s what you meant, then you’re just worried about Die-san as a daughter, so now I understand the things you were asking. I’m sorry.”

Terra reflecting and apologizing to the man—Ozuno Ishidōrō Gendō—caused him to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

“If you understand, good, but it would be even better if you answered... No.” Ozuno abruptly looked away and began mumbling something. “I’m not a good enough father to have the right to scold others like that.”

“...What?”

“When it comes to Kanna, I’m not really...” He looked at Terra for a moment. “Haven’t you heard anything about this from her?”

“Ah, a little, yes.” Terra recalled their conversation on the harvesting ship. “Uhh, she told me that she was thrown out before she could understand what was happening, but that she doesn’t feel lonely or anything.”

“S-she doesn’t miss me?”

Ozuno was visibly shaken, so Terra clarified. “She doesn’t hold a grudge or anything like that. She said she thinks of it as a normal father-child relationship.”

“Ah, is that so?” Ozuno sighed and his chest relaxed. He now seemed a lot more human. “That’s fine, then... Or, I’m glad, I should say. I haven’t been able to do a thing for her.”

“Is that why you’ve gotten so worried about this situation?”

“It’s not that, really... no, maybe it is? It might be.” He started to mumble as he thought to himself. “Maybe I was feeling like a guilty parent when she came asking for my help, and it being such a critical moment has gotten me all wound up? So, I’m doing this to make it up to her, meaning I’m still not selfless enough.”

“Die-san came asking for help?” Terra wasn’t very interested in listening to a parent reflect on himself, but that point got her attention. “How did she contact you? What did she say?”

“By scent.”

“Scent?”

“Yes, scent. As you can see, I’m the director of this center, and I monitor the air composition for the entirety of Fuyō , down to the last nanogram. Noxious substances are the main target of monitoring, but it can detect any substance if the compositional data is available beforehand. That’s how I found Kanna’s distinctive scent.”

“Ahh, yeah! That herbal smell—” Terra suddenly made a weird face. “Excuse me sir, but do you regularly look for her scent?”

“It’s not like I was looking on purpose. That terpene scent was something Iwana originally used herself long ago, and that’s all there is to it. I did get its data while it was still lingering in my room, but starting about two years ago, it started getting detected within this ship again. Looking into its source revealed it was coming from inside the ducts at the girls’ school.”

“Ducts?”

“That girl really seems to like that sort of place.”

“...Ahaha, she does tend to slip into cramped spaces, doesn’t she?”

“She does. So, after she disappeared again, the smell did too for a while. But yesterday, it was detected in the ducts again.”

Diode hid out in ducts. For some reason, that made sense to Terra. Ozuno made a face like they had a mutual understanding, and they nodded at each other. However, aware that was as far as their agreement went, she refocused.

“So, um, anyway, I came here to run away with Die-san!” She gave Ozuno a sharp look as she spoke firmly, then immediately noticed she had said too much.

His reply, which Terra expected, drew attention to a point she really hadn’t wanted anyone to notice. “Die-san this, Die-san that. You keep asking for her like you’re her girlfriend.”

“Girl–” Terra froze for a moment, her need to deny it and her desire to affirm it in conflict. It’s not like that —it clearly wouldn’t work if she said that. That’s impossible —the only option seemed to be saying something that extreme. Why make things this complicated —Terra remembered what her coworker said before, and knew it was representative of how Circ society thought.

So, Terra said it. “A girlfriend...? Something like that is... impossible.” She forcibly shut out her own feelings, despite how painful it was to say. She didn’t expect the response that followed.

“It’s not impossible. At the very least, Kanna has dated a girl before.”

“W-what?”

“As a parent, I can hardly say I approve, but I can’t deny it happened, either. It seems it was a classmate she got together with, but Kanna leaving here was apparently her moving on after she ended that relationship–”

“W-wait, could you slow down for a second, Ozuno-san?” Terra gestured at him with both hands, and he stopped. The fear of being found out she had been feeling moments earlier completely flipped. “Are you seriously telling me that?! And so casually?!”

“What? You won’t understand what I mean unless I explain.”

“It isn’t good to tell others that Die-san dated a girl without her knowledge, wouldn’t you agree?! You’re also exposing her classmate!”

“Hmm? You’re probably right. Well, I’m sorry, could you forget that?”

“You can’t really fix that by apologizing... but I already knew about it, so I guess it’s fine...”

“What? So, you already knew about it anyway?” Ozuno responded in disappointment. “So you did  come chasing after Kanna because you like her? If that’s the case, you should have just said so from the start. We traded too many pointless words.”

“We wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if I’d been able to...” Terra let out an exhausted sigh. “Then, Ozuno-san, would you at least... approve... of our relationship?”

“I repeat myself, but I can hardly approve of it. I’d much rather my daughter to have kids of her own.”

We should be the ones to get the final say on that —Terra thought, but bit her tongue for the moment. It wasn’t possible to resolve everything in one go.

“But you’ll allow it over your disagreement, then? Thank you. Now—” She quickly bowed and turned to her side to deal with another matter. “Sorry, Pri-san, could you excuse yourself for a moment if possible? I’d be very thankful if you did...”

The inhaler, who had been watching with great interest from near the wall, smiled ruefully at being roped in. “Nope, I already heard everything. Besides, I know the gist of what you two were just talking about.”

“Really?”

“Well, between the mood you two had going back on the Insolvent  and how broken up you were at Johor ...” Pri blushed slightly and turned her head. “I could tell what was going on. Got me a little bothered, honestly.”

“Oh, right... Sorry,” Terra instinctively apologized.

Pri shrugged and looked at her again. “Anyway, let’s save that conversation for later. More importantly, I want you to tell me a bit more about this going to the GI thing.”

“You want to know more about that? Umm...”

"Not to alarm you, but talking about the GI anywhere else is going to get you in trouble. Not with me , though." Pri's wording got her intentions across.

Terra yielded and agreed to talk, “Got it, but please don’t tell anyone else about it.”

“I also want to know. Let me in too!” Ozuno chimed in, and Terra ended up speaking with both of them. She told them she had already discussed wanting to leave the isolation of FBB and continuing to fish out in the GI with Diode.

“I think we’ll start by arriving in the Zugspitze star system. I wanted to look into what we’d do afterwards in more detail, but I didn’t have the time to do that properly back at Idaho, so I’m going to have to do that before I leave here...”

“And the transport? What are you going to use for your spaceship?” Pri bent forward to get to the point.

“I’ll only say more when I see Diode,” Terra replied.

“Seems that’s how it’s gonna be, Chief.”

“Indeed. We can’t go on too much longer before the Bureau of Protocol finds her.” As Pri changed gears, Ozuno floated to a corner of the room and put his hand on a switchboard. “Now is probably as good a time as any. Intercontinental—sorry, Terra-san, you will promise to talk to me about this later, yes?”

“I promise! Are you going to take me to her?”

“No, we don’t have to go anywhere. She’s already here,” Ozuno said, removing the panel. It wasn’t a switchboard, but a cover for a section of ductwork that a silver-haired girl wearing a kimono came tumbling out of.

“Die-san?!”

“It’s been a while, Terra-sa—okay, wait, wait! Stop!” Terra reached out to hug Diode the moment she set eyes on her, but Diode calmly resisted her with both arms.

Terra, tearing up, complained, “Why? It took so long to see you again and I'm supposed to hold back now?!”

“Those two don’t need to be here for that part!”

“It’s fine even if they are here! I mean, it’s already been like, twenty days! Are you saying you were fine?”

“Fine... no, I wasn’t. I was worried.” Diode was slowly being constricted, so she kept pushing against Terra’s arms while she spoke. “I was worried that things could get bad if you came to Fuyō . That you’d get caught if you did. And just now that your fight with my pig-headed father would escalate.I was extremely  worried watching from inside there.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you were also holding back?”

“No—I mean—”

“You were, weren’t you?”

Terra pulled closer. Diode looked down, nodded, and responded, “...Yes.” Her arms stopped resisting and Terra held up her small, dainty body.

“Die-san...!” Terra rubbed their cheeks together. “I wanted to see you!”

“—”

If Diode said anything, Terra couldn’t hear. But she did feel that Diode had stopped resisting a little. Overwhelmed with happiness, she hugged Diode again, then—

“Excuse me, but the Bureau of Protocol is already on the hunt for you,” Pri said, as she approached them and looked at her minicell.

“Does it–”

“Does it really have to be now?!” Terra’s words were completely drowned out by Diode’s shout.

“Well, when else would they come?” the woman who supposedly worked as a Trade crew member asked with terrific bluntness. “This ‘Bureau of Protocol’ seems to work in a similar way to the Safety Assurance Department back at my clan. I guess it’s also similar to the Endeavour Council of Elders’ intelligence service? Anyway, they’re coming for Diode scary fast. Chief Ozuno, did you properly cover Die-san’s trail when you helped her escape?”

“Hm? I didn’t do anything of the sort,” Ozuno replied in as blunt terms as Pri. “All I did was send Kanna an electric key for the Gendō domestic use elevator. Beyond that, she got up here by herself.”

“What?! You can’t be serious...” Pri’s voice rose in surprise as her eyes looked towards Diode. “Then, I don’t need to say another word, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Diode reluctantly climbed out of Terra’s arms. “I did at least try using a route Meika shouldn’t know about, but since this was the only place I’d go, it’s only a matter of time before we get cornered.”

“What, you came here without a plan, Kanna?”

“I’m fairly certain I said I’d be in a hurry, you ignorant, uncultured fossil of a father!” Diode shouted as she faced Ozuno. She pointed at Terra and continued, “I said she was going to sneak into Fuyō  somewhere soon, and if she was found it was going to be way worse than if I was found!”

“Oh, so that’s what you meant.”

“That is  what I meant! So... bringing her here before she could get caught was also good.” She looked away.

Diode being that direct was unthinkable to Terra. She knew meekness wasn’t really in Diode’s nature, but she couldn’t tell at which point it crossed from her simply being rebellious to being something else. She could also sense this wasn’t the time to worry about figuring that out.

“Pri-san, so this means we should run?”

“Uhh, I wonder. If you hid inside Chief’s trash heap, I don’t think they’d find you, but leaving is going to get difficult, fast. Would you rather make your escape now, Terra-san? That is, if you’ve got a way to do so.”

“Yes–” She noticed Pri was grinning, which gave her pause, but without any more time to hesitate, she went all in. “We’re escaping. I have a way!”

“The trump card, right? Where is it?”

“At port. Die-san, let’s hurry there!”

“Wait,” Ozuno said, fishing for something in his desk drawer. “Terra-san, are you heading straight to the GI once you get out of here?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“How? No, never mind that, now’s not the time to ask. Anyway, I suggest you take this,” he said, handing Terra a golden cube the size of a pinky nail. It was something she was very familiar with as a video distribution officer. Stone state storage.

“What’s on it?”

“It has information about the GI.”

“Huh? Why do you have something like this?” Terra asked in surprise.

Ozuno looked up, his face grave. “You want to know how I obtained the information? Or my reason for giving it to you?”

“I... I guess both...”

“Either way, we don’t have the time for that. If I had to explain quickly, it’s because I’m a researcher. At one point, I looked into Circ history and our relationship with the GI.”

“Ahh, so you’re not handing us something you looked up for our sake, are you?”

“Obviously not. It’s just a mix of documents, but it’s better than nothing.”

“It’s absolutely better than nothing! Thank you so much!”

“And my reason is—” Ozuno turned to look at Diode, who was snuggled up to Terra. “Kanna.”

“What it is, you bickering, pain-in-the-ass father?”

“Thank you for relying on me.”

“Guh.” Diode frowned deeply and looked away. “Terra-san, let’s get out of here already...”

“What? Ah, I get it, you’re—”

“You don’t have to read anything into it!”

“This way!” Pri invited them to a passage. Diode lunged towards it with a face like the room had just been flooded with poison gas, and Terra turned to bow.

The man who gave the impression of being a young boy raised two fingers.

The three left the purification center, moving forward using zero gravity handrails as stepping stones. Since it was well into the resting period for the night, the passage leading to the spaceport was even quieter than when they entered. They passed the occasional uncrewed cargo train, trash and liquid vacuum robots, and other machines. There was no sign of pursuers, so Terra relaxed a little and started to talk.

“Your father’s nice.”

“Don’t you mean lethally hopeless?”

“Yeah, I thought that for a moment too, but didn’t he help us out in the end? Wouldn’t you say that was him showing who he really is, deep down?”

“And once what’s deep down reveals itself, it gets unbearable within two days.”

“Oh, so there was a period you lived with him, huh?”

“Let’s drop this topic,” Diode said, waving a hand in irritation. She pointed at a pocket on Terra’s overalls. “Right now, there are three things we need to worry about, like whether we can use the information contained on the stone storage or if we can safely escape from here.”

“Right.”

“And finally, just who are you? Prizebag Backyard Build JT.” Diode frowned at Pri, tagged along wearing an expression like she was part of a trio. “What is an outsider like you doing associating with my annoying, ignorant hermit of a father?”

“Oops, you can’t ask that, Terra-san already promised me.”

“I’m not the one who made the promise.”

“How about you tell me a little more about yourselves, then.”

“Mgh.” Diode sealed her lips.

Pri gave her a cheerful smile. “We Trades value the exchange of information. We don't get wealthy by keeping quiet, we get wealthy by building networks, so–”

“...Then, I’ll talk a little, if you tell me a little about yourself in exchange.”

“Die-san?!” Terra exclaimed, surprised by Diode’s proposal. “You're gonna tell her? It bothers you that much?”

“Despite how he is, even my father should be able to pick up on the tension between the clans. And yet, here he is bringing an outsider into Fuyō  to do stuff for him. It’s strange. That’s seriously difficult to do for the Gendō, so he must have an important reason for it.”

“Really...?” Terra and Diode turned to look at the woman beside them. They exited the winding passages, passing by a bunch of jumbo bags latched to the wall near the huge, wide-open gate to the port area.

“You’re quite perceptive, Die-san.” Diode felt like she could feel Pri staring through her smiling eyes. “I’m impressed with the caution you took when you fled the Typhoon Palace, and also how you suddenly broke down in tears on the harvester ship. You’re a tough nut to crack, I like that.”

“Flattery will get you nowhe–”

Just then, it suddenly got bright. They were trapped by brilliant light coming from every which way.

“Guh!”

Terra and Diode reflexively shielded their faces, but Pri did something different. She drew a handy thruster from her hip and abruptly flew backwards at full force, making an amazing escape through a gap between the jumbo bags.

“Follow that one, Chūya!” A voice came from the light, and a young man in black shot past them like an arrow. Terra couldn’t tell who he was, but she had a feeling she didn’t need an introduction to the woman who stepped out of the spotlight’s shadow like a stage actress.

“You two stay right here. Kanna-san and the Insomnia’s  owner, Terra of the Endeavour, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Meika Shikiriyōni Keiwaku.”

The light swiveled out of their faces, and Terra finally saw the speaker. It was a girl who looked to be the same age as Diode, wearing a matching kimono to hers. Her midnight blue hair had a flashy style, done up with an electric pink ribbon. She was taller than Diode, and while she gracefully clasped her hands in front of her, she stuck her chest out confidently. The adults surrounding her wore dark clothes and appeared to be servants, not guards. It was also possible they were members of the Bureau of Protocol.

Terra tried to reply. “You have the wrong person. My name’s Prizebag.”

“That is  the name listed on your ship registration records, but perhaps you have taken that name from someone else, hm? I do believe any further lying would not be to your benefit, so please, go on.”

Meika extended an elegant hand and smiled. It was pointless to keep playing ignorant, so Terra reintroduced herself.

“I am Terra Intercontinental Endeavour. It is my pleasure to meet you, Meika-san.”

“Welcome, Terra-san. And what brings you to Fuyō ? Business? Pleasure?”

“The reason’s exactly what it looks like.”

“It may be as you say, but I confess I’m having a little trouble understanding. Could it be you’re retrieving Kanna-san for me after she misplaced herself?”

“No, it isn’t. Besides, Kanna-san—and by that, I mean Die-san—is my  partner now.”

“Ah yes, you’re the unusual pair of women who work together as twister and decomper, hm? So, what you mean to say is that you are work colleagues, correct?”

“Well, of course.”

“I envy you. Despite living together for over a year while training to become decompers at the girls’ school, I never once had the opportunity to fish with her in the same boat.”

The more Terra heard Meika talk, the less she could stand it. The way she was flaunting their closeness with Diode got under her skin. Without thinking, she said, “Was it because you couldn’t make nets that were any good?”

That was the best response Terra could give. She was more than certain that a girl who had gone to school to become a proper decomper was much better with nets than herself, whose history of failed marriage trials screamed ‘bad at nets’. And yet, Meika’s face stiffened.

“Good nets—I make those, of course I do. It’s one of my strongest subjects, and I even ranked third in my year. Kanna-san is certain to be aware of that herse–” She made eye contact with Diode as she spoke quickly, only to see her coldly turn her face away.

“Anyway, Terra-san, your doubts are unfounded.” Terra gave Meika a blank look. Meika gently cleared her throat and continued. “Enough about me for the moment. More importantly, aren’t you curious to learn what will happen to you from now on, Terra-san?”

The change in Meika’s attitude left Terra feeling uneasy, and she couldn’t think of a quick reply. Diode spoke up instead.

“Knock it off. You’re the one making the capture, Meika, so what happens is whatever you’re in the mood for. Could you stop talking like you’re above it all?”

“I am not trying to act above it all; I’m only ensuring that Terra-san is aware of the delicate position she is in.” For some reason, she sounded pleased as she turned back to Terra. “Are you, Terra-san? You’re suspected of jumping ship, falsifying your boat’s nationality, trespassing, and abducting a minor. Every one of these charges are all but confirmed. However, my father Nurude has taken an interest in you, and would like to extend an invitation to you to come aboard as a decomper. At any rate, you can’t go around doing whatever you like anymore, okay?”

Terra wanted to ask if a Clan Chief really had the right to invite a suspected criminal aboard like that, but remained silent. She was already thinking of how they could leave.

Meika continued. “One more thing, that ship of yours... the Insomnia  has already been seized by the port guards, so you are no longer free to depart. The ship is quite interesting. At first glance, it appears to be a mere fishbone-type cargo ship, but the security is unusually strong. Not even the Guards’ Minister of Justice key can open its airlock. It also appears to be carrying the control pits of a pillar boat. What is really going on?”

“Well... um...” Terra spoke evasively, like she had been cornered, but she was counting her blessings. They had found the control pits she brought with her, and she was certain the strong security was Eda blocking entry to the ship. This might just work —if she could feign innocence, she might be able to trick Meika.

Without any apparent ill will, she smiled and replied, “It was done with decomping... Oh, was it hard for you to understand?”

“What?”

“The reason it won’t open is because I locked it up through decomping. It’s a general-purpose safety measure. Any decomper could get in.”

“...I have never heard of such a thing.”

“Ah, perhaps they don’t teach that in the Gendō school. Still, just a glance could tell you the fishbone parts were made by decomping, you know?” The last part was true, but the locking mechanism was a lie. Terra hoped Meika wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.

Meika quickly got daggers in her eyes. “That another clan would not teach the criminal falsification of a boat’s appearance is completely normal. But I suppose the Endeavour are taught to view criminality as something wondrous.”

That worked better than expected, surprisingly! —Terra seized onto the worsening mood and pressed the advantage.

“The Endeavour didn’t teach me about the disguise, I came up with that myself. My strange methods aren’t really all that  great, you know, but Die-san has praised them. Why not look at the ship yourself? Since you ranked third, Meika-san, I believe you’d have no trouble understanding.”

Hopefully, that should make Meika totally lose it.

“Have a look at–” Meika cut herself off and shut her mouth. She looked at Terra and Diode, then at the servants quietly watching over the situation, and nodded decisively. “Aha, I see.”

“Pardon?”

“Could it be you were attempting to scheme your way aboard the Insomnia  just now?”

“...No.”

“Tell me, did your plan involve wounding a young girl’s pride as a decomper to anger her into taking you to your impounded ship, and somehow locking her in while you fled with the control pits?”

“No, I would never think of doing such a thing! Absolutely not!”

“You are  very good at decomping, are you not? Your 58K title is something I am aware of, Terra-san. If you truly are that skilled, then you have the capacity to rebuild a pillar boat using the Gendo clay reserves before fleeing, no? I am even sure that you believed that idea would work!”

“No, really I—seriously, I really didn’t think of–”

Terra waved her hands around, confused. Diode, of all people, spoke up.

“Was that really your plan? Sorry, but I think you overestimated how much of the idiot treatment Meika could take.”

Meika was pleased to hear that, and she spoke with a smile. “Terra-san, I am a little—just a little—angry.”

“Sorry...”

“It was already decided that you would be taken to see my father, but before that, I have a little job for you. You love fishing, do you not?”

“Ye—what?” Terra was already nodding along before the surprise caught up.

Meika used both hands to make the outline of a besshu with her fingers. “How about we go nishikigoi fishing.”

“Why?!”

“Well, I was thinking that maybe you’d want to see whether or not I, the third best of my year, could make a good net.”

“I’ve never fished for nishikigoi, though!”

“I think it would be nice if you showed me these strange methods of yours that aren’t really all that great, as Kanna-san has put it.”

“But you aren’t even married?”

“That’s my concern, so please don’t worry yourself with it.”

“But–” Terra fumbled for a response, but Meika’s expression turned serious again.

She continued, “Please allow me to say something if you are not feeling up to it. My father Nurude sets men up with women from other clans who work as decompers so they might have children, of course. There are three women here, but if my father decides he only wants two of us, who do you think he’ll find the most suitable?”

The moment Diode heard that, she cut in, “Terra-san, that’s not something you need to worry about!”

Terra looked at Meika, then at Diode, then back to Meika. “Understood. We’ll go along with your fishing.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I really am.” Meika was beaming, and Terra felt like she had come to understand her a little better.

Koi Fishing

1

“We’re clear of Fuyō’s  harbor cannon. Our CNS [Circ Navigation Satellite] request for the descent’s orbital elements and reference countdown also came in. We’re at T-minus 450. Self-diagnosics are in progress... the pillar boat’s current mass is 175,500 tonnes, currently in cylindrical anchoring form, life support resources are sufficient for 47 hours, and there are no radar or optical range obstructions around... Let’s go, Die-san!”

“Let’s split.”

The moment Terra gave the all-clear, Diode made an insane comment and mashed together the swarm of fan-shaped virtual throttle panels. She commanded them to full power, but since the pillar boat’s main engines still hadn’t been formed, what ignited instead were the small RCS nozzles maintaining their heading. She was trying to quickly put some distance between themselves and Fuyō .

The harbor cannon immediately began firing in short, rapid pulses. Flames spraying from the nozzles on one side of their ship were snuffed out one after the other.

“AAAIIEE?!” Terra shrieked as she felt the boat rattle with each explosion.

Diode clicked her tongue and carefully tweaked the throttle. She yawed to align the boat with the cannon’s direction of fire to reduce their exposure and quickly redirected the nozzles’ thrust towards the top of the hull. She was attempting to flee by diving as the boat stared down the cannon.

Just then, their boat was rushed from both sides by relatively large pink columns which pushed their boat upwards again. They were two of the Gendō pillar boats.

“Absconding the moment I lend you a ship is much too predictable, wouldn’t you agree? If you must , I would prefer that you do so through more unconventional means.”

A five-petal black flower spun on the VUI before Meika’s face appeared, along with Chūya in the twister seat. Although Terra thought he was in the middle of tracking down Pri, here he was working the front pit for this flight. Diode sighed and put her hands up in frustration.

Over her shoulder, Terra struck a tone of agreement with the callout. “Die-san, when I said let’s go, I meant let’s go fishing.”

“Are you really that stupidly earnest?”

Terra was irritated by her rude tone. “What do you mean, ‘stupid’?”

“Exactly what it sounded like. We consume some percentage of the clay once we start our descent, but right now  we have a full supply of propellant. We could make it all the way to Idaho  on that, and if we succeeded, wouldn’t we also be rid of all of the Gendō pursuers?” Diode turned around to face Terra and, with a fed-up voice, said, “So it’s stupid to not make our escape now.”

FBB at night was the backdrop. All through the dark clouds of the enormous gas giant, bursts of purple lightning flickered. The small girl had her back to the scene, looking down at Terra. She was dressed in a kimono—a kind of clothing Terra wasn’t used to seeing, devoid of any fasteners. It wasn’t a printed deck dress; the Gendō outfit was clean, exotic, and if not for the situation, charming in a way Terra could stare at forever.

She pointed at Fuyō , towering above that bewitching sight. “The ship! Our ship is in there! Losing it is the worst thing that could happen!”

"Weren't you just using it as a decoy to give Meika the slip earlier?”

Diode didn’t seem to understand, so Terra tried to clarify.

“That was a misunderstanding on Meika-san’s part. I actually planned on using the control pits as the decoy while trying to run away in the Insomnia  instead—because that’s the escape ship I told you can get us out of this star system!”

Blinking in surprise, Diode pressed her for more answers. “So that’s  what you were going on about earlier? The suspicious ship you learned about from a suspicious person, I mean.”

“That’s right,” Terra nodded, feeling exhausted. “I was able to get all the way out here thanks to that ship.”

“But–”

“We can use it to flee all the way to the GI! We really can!” Terra cut Diode off before she could voice any further doubts. Ultimately, Terra had been the only one to hear Eda's claims, so there was no other way she could prove it when Diode tried digging deeper. “That’s why we’ve got no choice but to obey for now, at least until we find the opportunity to run off in the Insomnia  without getting shot.”

“...Well, if you say so.” Diode abruptly took her eyes off Terra and looked ahead. The loose sleeves of the kimono and her silver hair trailed little bubbles in the biofluid gel as she spun.

I want to run my fingers through her hair —Terra thought. She also wanted to do anything she could beyond that. Caress her. Hug her tight. Talk about each other. And, more than anything, tell Diode this very moment how happy she was to see her again.

A transmission spoke instead.

“Can you hear me, Kanna-san? Are you aware that it is not quite time to descend yet?”

“Yes, I hear you, and yes, I’m aware. What just happened was a small slip of the hand.”

“That was a wise answer, but next time, I will not be so understanding, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m done running away,” Diode responded before cutting comms.

She looked bored, but the two had the undeniable familiarity that came with old friendship. Terra knew it was pointless comparing herself with Meika, but she couldn’t help but think about the appeal of her tenacity during their confrontation back at port.

“Terra-san, your outfit... what is it?”

“Huh?”

Before she knew it, Diode was giving her side-eye. Terra was wearing a clumsy, undignified duct dress. One was expected to wear their best clothes when flying the pillar boat out to fish besshu with their partner, an expectation work uniforms fell far short of.

“T-this is, um... a bunch of stuff happened.”

“Hmmm... you’ve been through a lot.”

“Thanks...”

Normally, they’d have sure praise for one another's outfit, but this exchange was nothing short of terse. Terra bowed her head and felt like crying.

The boat rocked violently. The two pillar boats that had been pinning their boat in place finally backed away. The names Fisher Rokujō and Fisher Mokuren appeared on the VUI panels.

Terra had been too busy with their conversation to notice at first, but using boats to keep another boat under control was an unusual use of force. The two boats turned their aft ends to their pillar boat and splashed the two women with their rocket plumes as they separated.

Maybe it was by accident—no, there’s no way that was an accident. They’re demeaning us. And you  know the reason they’re looking down on us.  It was because her twister was a woman. No matter where she was, Diode was usually treated like a child. Terra always noticed it after it happened and kept the thought to herself because putting it into words was difficult.

Don’t you dare  underestimate my  Die-san!

“Reentry form, please,” came a robotic-sounding order from the front control pit.

Suddenly back at attention, Terra slapped her own cheeks. “R-Right.”

“Can you do it? The polar-type, I mean.”

“I can do it! Leave it to me!” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Decompression—taking the whole of the boat in her hands.

It was written in textbooks that decomping was only possible in a sufficiently relaxed state, and Terra was well aware of it. For that reason, she was uncertain whether it would go well in her current mental state, but somehow or another, she managed to start decomping.

She extended the very fringes of her awareness into remote corners of the huge vessel; she no longer heard through her ears, no longer saw through her eyes—only feeling its interior structures and thinking she  was the lump of clay in the same way that her tongue felt around the inside of her mouth—and, grasping her own contours, expanded them in some places and squeezed them in others as her imagination changed her very shape and structure. A piercing tip, a sturdy fishing hold, and hot air sacs came into clear existence; before she knew it inside and outside ceased to matter and she was fully immersed in the feeling of vacuum in contact with the ship's twenty thousand square meter surface as if it was against her own skin; then, powerful wings, stiff nozzles, and electromagnetic eyes opening to the sight of the distant cloudtops of the horizon beyond.

No matter how many times she did it, the satisfaction—the liberation—the job brought on its own felt like reason enough for her to live. Like bringing a being into existence for the first time, Terra’s decompression breathed life into the pillar boat.

“Finished! All ready for entry!”

“...Thank you. I’ll sync our descent with the counter,” Diode acknowledged after a short while.

Several luminous points tore through a tiny corner of the vast, twenty-two-thousand-kilometer-wide expanse of night. Those points were Terra's and Meika’s pillar boats, in addition to the five Gendō pillar boats and patrol ships that accompanied them. All seven vessels were swathed in soft orange light.

Terra constantly made careful adjustments to the loaned pillar boat Meika had offered them, but noticing the light that had engulfed the pillar boat since shortly after their descent began startled her. The light wasn’t something she saw during their usual fishing.

“Die-san, does our speed seem to be a little... too fast?”

“Fast?”

“It’s too early for reentry flames to appear at this point, right? We haven’t even gone under 1000 km altitude yet.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Diode replied, turning to look around her. “Our current speed is 12.8 kilometers per second. I think that’s standard reentry speed, though.”

“So... is the atmosphere locally thicker around here?”

“Or, maybe something was outgassed?” Diode spun the VUI’s contact dial with a finger while she stared at Meika’s boat, which had departed shortly before them. “Meika, did you fart?”

“ Excuse  me? Just what are you accusing me of now?!”

“I’m pretty sure I just asked if you released gas. There’s usually not enough air at this altitude for adiabatic compression.”

“What do you mean, gas–” Meika fell silent almost the instant she opened her mouth. “Actually...”

The two could faintly hear her whispering in discussion with Chūya. Finally, she pretended to clear her throat. “...Ahem. I must ask again, but do either of the two of you know anything about nishikigoi fishing?”

“A little.” “As much as you can find in reference books.”

“Oh, is that so? But you have complete mastery of the middle- and low-latitude belts, do you not?”

“I know  the things that are common knowledge to the Gendō,” Diode responded, as if to tell Meika to quit treating her like an idiot. “Don’t nishikigoi show up on the news every time there’s a catch? They’re besshu that ascend from the deep, jump clear up to the ionosphere, and range between 5000 and 20,000 tonnes.”

“Then, it follows you know how a 20,000 tonne besshu makes a thousand-kilometer ascent into the ionosphere.”

“ Because  they can launch them—” It was Diode’s turn to cut herself off and fall silent.

Terra understood why. They couldn’t possibly launch themselves a thousand kilometers into the sky, or rather, if they did—she loosely worked through the math in her head—under FBB’s surface gravity of 2 g , they would need an initial velocity of 6.3 kilometers per second. By comparison, the besshu that typically flew near the speed of sound achieved 0.4 km/s at best. (Still, not bad for a living creature.)

Diode looked back at Terra and whispered, “There weren’t any nishikigoi near the Tsunami Search’s  territory.”

“Thanks to the mid-latitude location, right?” While Diode had substantial practice, she lacked in theory. Terra eagerly bailed her out. “Let’s swap.”

She took over the transmission. “Meika-san, the nishikigoi use the aurora to ascend instead of something like the rocket propulsion in human spacecraft, don’t they? An aurora is the plasma generated as a result of charged particles raining down from space and colliding with the upper atmosphere, which means the nishikigoi are swimming upstream on a plasma waterfall, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Are you aware of how much power is generated by that waterfall?”

Terra fell silent. She could probably find the answer pretty quickly if she looked it up on her minicell, but since they were in fact already in the middle of supersonic fishing, she didn’t have the time to investigate.

“...My apologies, but could it be that was the extent of your knowledge?” Terra felt like she was being made fun of, but she couldn’t quite tell. “So earlier, regarding your—pardon my language—fart accusation and lack of familiarity with the polar atmosphere, that was not an act? You two were sincere? Did you decomp without mentally picturing auroral heat countermeasures, an anti-glare fishfinder, a protective shielding for the combustion chamber, and other things of the like first? No? Surely , you did? For a pair who hauled in as much as the third-ranked pair of fishers this quarter to not do that would be...” Meika’s tone sounded halfway between worried and sneering.

Still, Terra felt like she was bluffing and replied, “Our pillar boat has all necessary functionality. What is the power of the aurora, by the way?”

“Usually more than one trillion five hundred billion watts.”

“One trillion–”

“And five hundred billion. We received a very well-timed category five stellar flare warning beginning from last night, and from additional observations of umbral hammering, we may be seeing it reach a maximum of five to seven trillion.”

“...Right.”

“Terra-san? Are you okay? You do not sound well, are you still able to fish? I would feel terribly sorry if you and Kanna-san were by chance to be injured, so would you like to return?”

“And what would be the result of our contest if we did?”

“Naturally, I would win by default.”

“We’re going to give it everything we’ve got.” Terra cut the communication with a powerful karate chop swing. “Whew!” She sighed, pressing between her eyebrows.

Bubbles rose through the biofluid gel in front of Diode’s worried face. “So after all that, do you have any  ideas about what that light around us might be?”

Terra momentarily paused to think, and something from the conversation with Meika sprang to mind.“Well, um... Die-san, do you know what the temperature is outside?”

“There’s no such thing as temperature up in space above a thousand kilometers in altitude.”

“As a twister, your intuition might say we’re in a vacuum, but try measuring it anyway.”

“Well, in that case...” Diode seemed to perform some sort of operation with the infrared thermometer. After a little bit, she responded, displeased. “The temperature reads 700°C even though the pressure outside is less than one millionth of an atmosphere. What even is this?”

Terra replied, “Basically, this is the zone where the high temperature atmosphere begins at the poles.”

“Because the sunlight is striking at such a low angle, right?”

“It’s not sunlight, I think it’s the effects of the aurora Meika-san mentioned earlier. For FBB, the poles  are where it’s hottest.”

“So what now, then? Do we need to think of this as raising the baseline for our usual flight temperature by 700 degrees from here on out?”

“I’m not sure if the usual baselines are a good guide here. We’re already way off of them, aren’t we?”

The two fell quiet. Eventually, Diode quietly spoke. “So, the real question is, do you think we can survive rushing in like this?”

It was unlike her to take such a muted tone, but it spurred Terra’s motivation. She tapped the space in front of her and raised six VUI displays.

Pushing down her fear, she answered, “Since Meika-san was capable of it, there is a ship form and fishing method out there that would allow us to come back alive. I’ll do my best to figure it out—looking up data is my strong suit.”

“That’s a video distribution officer for you.”

“Yep.”

“Meika was a student herself until recently.”

“Right.”

But this isn’t about coming back alive, it’s about how we can’t lose this fishing contest.

Diode didn’t whimper about every little thing, so neither would Terra. Besides, Diode had opened a number of panels on her own VUI. “I was also being stupid just now. For starters, how are the besshu rushing up the aurora? Why don’t we at least try to figure out the basics, since we have about ten minutes until we arrive?”

“We probably should.”

Stars above, dark clouds below. Seven vessels crawled towards the horizon, where a lavender glow was beginning to flutter. Dawn was still a long way off—this light preceded it.

A crown that adorned the planet. To the humans, as significant as a grain of sand, it was a gigantic curtain of faint, dancing light that stretched as far as the eye could see in either direction. The two, like students cramming way too late for a test in the morning, still hadn’t noticed it.

2

What is thrown, falls. As long as it has momentum, it won’t fall. Even if that momentum comes from being blown on the wind or drawn in by a magnet.

The definition of a planet as a magnet was one given to Earth, a planet from a past era, but it still applies to Fat Beach Ball. Powerful magnetic field lines link its north and south poles, enveloping FBB in a much larger magnetic shell sharing its ten-hour rotation period. Its magnetism exerts an unseen influence on other magnetic bodies. Since FBB spins, its magnetic field sweeps through space like a broom. If one could scatter iron filings around its million-kilometer span to illustrate, one would see them form lines that distort as they’re dragged around by the rotation.

Incidentally, electricity is generated by moving a magnet near a wire. Since Fleming’s discovery back on Earth, that has been found to also be true of electric wires and magnets throughout the galaxy, even those on astronomical scales. A rotating planet with an existing magnetic field will generate electricity in wires around it. Planets with wires forming a complete circuit around them are rare; more often than not, electricity is generated in the surrounding plasma.

In the most basic possible terms, plasma is an ionized gaseous object—or to think of it another way, a vaporized electric wire. Despite existing as gas, it is possible for plasma to conduct electricity for the reason that the positive and negative charges are able to float around separately. The reason for that differs from place to place, so each form of plasma requires its own explanation, but around planets it is often due to two causes: first, bombardment by solar flares, and second, bombardment by galactic cosmic rays.

FBB has multiple icy moons. When Mother Beach Ball’s—MBB’s—solar wind strikes the surface of those moons, it ejects hydrogen and other substances as a plasma. While the plasma is not dense enough to be visible with the naked eye, it has a faint glow.

The plasma, drifting away into space from the small, low-gravity moons, finds itself completely free to depart for anywhere—only to have several forces start pulling on it from all directions. It feels the momentum from its satellite of origin, the pull of FBB’s strong gravity, the pressure of the solar wind, and the tug of the planet’s magnetic field lines sweeping through it.

Plasma streaming off the satellites will hang around at first, forming a donut-shaped cloud around FBB. Perhaps part of the reason is because the plasma is still too young to know what to make of itself out in the universe, but it’s also fair to say it's a matter of inertia. What is thrown, falls. If it has momentum, it won’t fall.  Things that originate from satellites orbit alongside them. Even if they wanted to fall into FBB, they wouldn’t be able to do so.

However, that doesn’t consider the effects of the magnetic field. FBB’s field lines aggressively sweep up the plasma that obediently orbits the planet. Their incredibly fast ten-hour rotational period does not care in the slightest about the ionized gas molecules’ orbital periods. Since plasma is a vaporized electric wire, its molecules follow the magnetic field lines as Fleming instructed them to. Gaining momentum is only possible when there’s force, and that force happens to be in the passing magnetic line’s direction of travel.

With increased orbital velocity, the gas ascends. The ascending gas is pushed away by the solar wind, but it’s still difficult to set off for deep space along that route—FBB’s gravity is still holding onto it. That can’t be ignored because gravity influences how events play out, even if it isn't the most noteworthy force. The plasma wonders where it’s trying to go, but it could only be the place where the various forces balance in the planet's shadow.

FBB is a gigantic planet, but MBB is even more gigantic, so it casts a shadow that eventually tapers to a point. Plasma accumulates near the sharp tip of that shadow. Through various means, something like a thin cloud forms at a distance of about one hundred times the planet’s diameter. Ionized molecules anxiously gather there.

Rather, even at that distance, they’re still trapped by FBB’s magnetic field. Humans may describe it as a gathering space for plasma, but to the plasma , it’s more like a place it was herded and corralled. The magnetic field continues to tug on it, and with nowhere else to go, it grows agitated. Plasma doesn’t actually express emotion, but physically, it can  express temperature.

The eddy current that forms in the gas giant’s shadow accumulates a large amount of heat. Heat can’t keep increasing forever, as humans and kettles throughout the universe both well know. In places where kettles don’t exist, it can also be observed in pressure cookers, rocket engines, nuclear reactors, stars, and so on, but the point is that if heat can’t disperse, the material will reach a limit and overflow. The same is true of the plasma within the planet’s shadow. To begin with, it is surrounded by vacuum, so it can’t expel heat very easily. It does what it can, but radiation is its only option for doing so. As the volume of hot plasma expands, radiating away heat becomes less and less efficient.

Now, despite holding immense heat, the events up to this point are what normally happens while a star is maintaining its composure. What if the star’s golden light greatly increased in power?

Even if one wanted to believe that couldn’t possibly happen, the truth is that it’s a frequent occurrence—a solar flare event. Flares are an emission of excess heat trapped within the star’s own twisted magnetic fields, and as a result, they cause a huge incident when they reach FBB’s vicinity as gusts of solar wind hundreds of times more powerful than usual.

Solar wind might be called “wind”, but in truth, it’s also plasma. What happens when the plasma gathered in FBB’s shadow nears its limit and then gets slammed with a flood of even more energetic plasma?

A shock wave. Like punching an overstretched balloon of scalding water, it sprays open in a way that’s hard to describe in a way other than “what else did you expect?” Boiling, high-energy plasma begins to cascade towards FBB like a waterfall. The Circs’ polar fishers refer to this phenomenon as umbral hammering. When it occurs, plasma streams towards the planet at more than twenty times the speed of a pillar boat. Calling it an eruption might be more accurate, as the plasma has been clocked as moving between 400 and 800 kilometers per second.

Plasma cascades in, but it can’t fall directly onto FBB. The flip side of a planet’s magnetic field weakening with the square of the distance is that it becomes much, much stronger the closer you get. Plasma pours through the increasingly strong field lines, which shove it in the direction of the planet’s rotation. As it regains orbital momentum, it is pushed back up and reaccumulates, even though it wants to descend. (Speaking of which: the Circs’ base ships navigate beneath the zone where plasma is redirected back upwards so they aren’t bathing in the stuff.) However, the plasma has another option available: surge in around the poles. It couldn’t do this earlier, but the frenzied crowd makes it possible.

At the poles, the rotational speed is zero—after all, it is the intersection of the rotation axis and the surface. For that reason, moving towards the south and north poles, where the magnetic force lines are parallel to the rotational axis, means that the sideways pull disappears. In reality, that pull more or less stops mattering well away from the poles, since the magnetic lines are essentially perpendicular to the surface in the polar circles above 80° latitude.

Once the wave of plasma crests above that latitude, it comes crashing in. When that huge balloon in the sky pops, the high-energy particles it contained splash into the polar atmosphere, creating an extremely vivid, turbulent dance of light. The radiant energy of the aurora, released by that long, arduous process, normally amounts to one trillion, five hundred billion watts. Fat Beach Ball’s rotation serves as the generator.

It’s strange, but even now the Circs call falling through the atmosphere reentry, not entry. That is seemingly the case for much of humanity’s domain. It is a vestige of the old Anno Domini era, when humans still departed from and returned to a planet’s surface.

5 A.M., Day 113, Circ Calendar Year 304 — 100 km above the 1 atm level.  High above a sea of clouds lit by the faint glow of dawn a pillar boat switched from suborbital to aerodynamic flight modes, having finished the reentry that swaddled it in high temperature flames. A soothing, artificial chime echoed through its control pits.

“Huh?!”

The chime was calm so as not to frighten humans, but the icon that flashed on the VUI was an orange that bordered on red. No sooner had Terra and Diode recognized the words “charge alert” did the biofluid gel turn a milky white. The avatar of the doctor woman suddenly appeared in their eyes.

“Barium sulfate has been added to the gravity buffer gel. You have either been shot with a charged particle cannon or exposed to a packet of high-energy cosmic plasma. Prompt, drastic measures have been taken, so please take action to escape—”

She was saying that the pilots  were in a risky situation, not the boat. If the boat  was in danger, the avatar wouldn’t have been capable of popping in to solve the problem just like that. While Terra tried in desperation to do something about it, another sound—this time high-pitched and compassionless—pierced through the biofluid gel. Diode, in the front pit, shouted before Terra could.

“It’s a fire damage warning for the hull! Terra-san, the boat’s hull is burning!”

“Huh, isn’t that because we just finished reentry proper?”

“Wrong place! It’s up top! It’s the top burning, not the belly!”

The pillar boat had already morphed from the apollo shape used for reentry into a plain spindle shape for high-speed cruising. Terra brought up a seventh VUI panel which displayed a blueprint of the boat’s three sides. Caution symbols filled the top view.

She raised her voice. “It’s totally charred. Rather, it’s like we’ve been cooking in an oven, or basking, maybe.”

“What’s basking?”

“It’s a behavior of animals called turtles, and it’s said they heat up the plate armor on their backs before a fight to increase their defensive power, and–”

“Okay, enough with the animal talk. It’s more important that we figure out what caused those burns.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

After zooming into the damaged area and checking the burn depth, the two nodded at one another.

“It’s a particle burn.”

“Yeah, and it's coming from directly above us.”

At the moment, they were caught in a downpour of plasma from the skies. They had gotten a sense for it in the short time before reentry started, but they were in the thick of it from the moment they arrived on site.

Terra noticed one other thing. “The hull’s burnt, but it’s different from the reentry burn. It’s like only the surface was burnt. Maybe there’s not much heat transfer, despite the high energy?”

“Only the surface? So, it was just a light sear?:

“Yeah, it looks delicious. Crispy and well-done!”

“Erm... listen, don’t you think you’re taking this a little too  lightly?”

Diode turned back to look at her. Terra raised an open hand to apologize.

“I just felt that we should really try to avoid panicking.”

“Uh-huh...”

“Lemme think. Countermeasures, countermeasures, uhhhh...” Her eyes knit in concentration. “A purée!”

“What?”

“I’ll purée the boat!”

“What.”

“Sorry, I’m going to do that now! I’ll explain in a bit!”

Decompression. This time it was extraordinarily difficult, because she was changing one of the boat’s functions while keeping the boat’s shape unchanged.

She opened a slit along the right flank of the flying boat. The entire back rolled towards the thin seam running from bow to stern. Eating the surface and digesting it inside the boat was the retrieval process for damaged sections of hull. She opened another slit along the left flank, which renewed the surface by spitting out new clay that would harden on the outside.

She had to balance the rate that parts were chewed up on the starboard side and spit out again on the port side, and furthermore, make absolutely sure that it didn’t interfere with either their cruising or fishing. The idea she had in mind was a coating of purée. It preserved the shape of the clay tube while keeping the outer layer rolling back into the ship before it hardened.

“Done!”

“Done...?” As always, Diode turned once to test the steering and thrust. “There doesn’t seem to be–” Just as she began to speak, something caught her attention. “No, it’s not done yet—you’re still decomping, aren’t you?”

“Yep!”

“The outer layer is constantly sliding. So, is this design something that isn’t one-and-done, but something that you’re constantly altering?”

“Correct!”

“Is that even possible?”

When Diode got excited and looked back, Terra could see her cheerful face, thanks to the removal of barium sulfate from the gel—which meant that Terra’s tactic of constantly recoating the top in a layer of fresh clay was indeed blocking the charged particles pouring down on them from space. She did her best to smile and confirm it was working as intended.

“Yes. Just did, that’s the result.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this before, though! More importantly, that’s a huge burden, isn’t it?!”

“Don’t worry. Leave that to me and focus on fishing, please!” With that reprimand, Terra closed her eyes. It took an immense amount of focus to keep the outside of a solid surface sliding.

“Then... I guess it’s fine if I leave the rest to you.” Diode faced forward and began searching for their prey by flying in an S-shaped curve, which inclined the boat left and right.

Terra suddenly became aware of the increased difficulty of her job. A pillar boat is never in level flight, not even for a second. It turns as they search for prey, climbs and descends in pursuit, and yaws when they spread their net. In other words, “top” constantly changed. It could be the back, the bow, the stern, the belly.

“Ah, look!”

Diode’s excellent long-distance vision soon set her eyes several hundred kilometers away, and she decisively pitched the seventeen-thousand-tonne mass into one of her skillfully performed aileron rolls. To Terra’s eyes, the horizon flipped; to her mind, the boat did. It was a potent assault on her semi-circular canals, which were attempting to reconcile the two in order to get the rolling layer on top.

“Urgh.”

“Terra-san, look, I set a marker! ...Terra-san?”

“R-right! Set a marker... Right? Right away.”

“No, I already set one!”

They descended into the blue and purple darkness, and floating in one section of that vast, dark sea was the pale white marker Diode set. Terra looked for it, her face just as pale—she was getting familiar with an experience she had never once dealt with up to that point.

So this is what decompression sickness feels like.

“Those are nishikigoi, aren’t they?”

Steeling herself, Terra looked over at the marker. Something  was there. Off to their left-front, 85 kilometers away according to the marker, faint flashes ascended at high speed through a ravine between clouds that was so deep it threw off her sense of longitudinal distance. One, two, three—it wasn’t a school, but it seemed to be something .

“Yep—probably.”

“I’ll approach them, so prepare the net, Terra-san! One that we can toss up from below and trawl with!”

Diode’s strained voice sounded like a distant echo. Terra had heard those words somewhere before. If I’m not mistaken, it was back during our discussion when we went fishing for the first time.  After the girl said that, Terra personally suggested deploying a purse seine.

And Diode’s response to that had been, “You sure you’re not an idiot?”

For some reason, she suddenly started to cry. Back then, the two were as distant as a mountain peak and the ocean floor. Now they were trusted partners tackling a troublesome besshu together. Terra never imagined she would be this lucky.

However, she couldn’t summon even half the skill she used back then.

“Trawl. Got it.”

The pillar boat flew like an arrow. Golden jets extended from the stern. That was where the net needed to hang. Huh? How did this go again?  The ship’s nuclear combustion exhaust flared out in a full 45-degree cone behind them. What kind of magic was she supposed to use to deploy a dragnet now, without it getting caught inside and burning to a crisp?

Terra couldn’t tell. Her brain was being burnt to a crisp just maintaining the topside protection while Diode pitched forward and rocked the boat left and right. Suddenly the bow turned skywards and the two were pushed down.

“Approaching vector... alright, intersected. Do you see it, Terra-san? We’ll cross paths in 85 seconds. For the time being I’m on a direct intercept since we don’t know how our prey moves, but will that work with the net?”

The pillar boat climbed rapidly, aiming for the point the nishikigoi were expected to rise to. The plan seemed to be to catch one there. Terra was usually the one to shout “Our strategy!” and propose something, and it was the sort of thing they finished before they even started to fish. This time, it was Diode putting all the effort in.

Terra was giving everything she could, too, but this time her focus was entirely on dealing with the plasma particles assaulting the boat’s nose. If she had to describe her problem, it was that recycling the entire hull from the tip of the spindle down the length of the boat was an immensely complex job. It wasn’t a matter of simply sliding the surface layer away. The boat’s entire frame was composed of the same material, and at no point was it allowed to change shape. Doing so would change its aerodynamics, and at this high speed, instantly send them into a tailspin.

“Terra-san! Where’s the net?!”

Net?

“Ah?! R-right, net!”

She hastily unraveled protuberances at back, placed where they wouldn’t interfere with the engines, into a pouch. In other words, all of the vertical and horizontal stabilizer fins became a fuzzy mess. The pillar boat suddenly decelerated in response.

“Terra-sa–”

Nng!  Terra heard an incredibly pained groan and began worrying. Her tongue! She definitely just bit it.

In reality, though, what had happened was that a sixty-meter-long, twelve-thousand tonne creature with a large, wide-open mouth passed by and slammed into their flank. Thanks to that, the pillar boat was sent falling as it rolled upside down and began tumbling, trawling nothing in the process. The loosened net spread into a parachute, which luckily obstructed the particle stream and gave the two, who had fainted, a moment to recover without the boat exploding.

“Excuse me, but Terra-san? Kanna-san? What are  you two doing?” Far above, while catching a single fish with a trawl on a magnificent direct ascent, Meika sent a transmission out of curiosity. “You appear to have performed a complex decomping, but is it possible you have not hardened the boat’s outboard wiring ? Normally, one would resist a plasma shower with magnetic shielding, no...?”

Meika’s voice was distorted and hard to understand. For the first time that night, Terra caught sight of the beautiful aurora painting the polar night, where a pillar boat was cut through the skies as it soared from besshu to besshu.

It is because of magnetism that the plasma shower arrives at the poles to begin with. If not for that, it would rain down on the equatorial belts. It is also what allows a boat surrounded by a magnetic field to repel it. Terra hadn’t been able to think of that most essential of essential points because her preparation had been terrible, even before she ended up with decompression sickness.

Long ago, the term ‘outboard wiring’ had a different meaning, but at a gas giant in AD (Astro Duodenum) 8830, it referred to an electric wire coiled around pillar boats and other spacecraft to repel high-energy plasma. The circuit requires only a single decomp and removes the need to consider the boat’s orientation. The doctor’s worried avatar could have been simply calmed with an invisible force field repelling the particles.

The scene that played out moments after dawn was an example of the shamed awkwardness that accompanied the sporadic improvements to their boat afterwards.

“Um, Die-san, I really didn’t want to say it, but about the attack just now and the one before that–”

“Just go ahead and say it. I agree my steering is total garbage—I made a mistake with our trajectory and missed our catch.”

“No, you’re wrong! Well, you’re not wrong, but you’re wrong! You got blinded, didn’t you? The trajectory you took totally put MBB in your face the whole time, right?”

“That’s true, but a twister claiming they lost sight of their target because the star is in their eyes is an excuse a literal fossil would give. It wouldn’t pass muster even seven thousand years ago. If that’s what happened, then a damn idiot junkie only has herself to blame for not taking appropriate anti-glare measures.”

“It’s our first time in airspace where our star is glued to the horizon, so don’t you think that mistake was inevitable?! You’re not bad, Die-san! It’s the latitude that’s bad! Or–”

“Or?”

“Or it’s the decomper—so me—who’s bad. Right... an anti-glare fishfinder. So that’s  what she meant by an anti-glare fishfinder. It was my responsibility to create the conditions that allow us to see our surroundings during a white night, you know?”

“Could you quit blaming yourself like that again? I heard Meika too, and I didn’t make the connection either!”

“I’m sorry, I’ll make one right now! I’ll stretch a shade and polarizing filter around us!”

Another scene, which played out moments after finally getting visibility squared away:

“Um, Die-san, sorry to bring this up again, but about the attack just now and the one before that–”

“Just go ahead and say it. I agree missing the ascending nishikigoi because we weren’t putting out enough power to have the speed for the intended climb was my mistake.”

“But we don’t know why you weren’t able to put out enough power, right? And it wasn’t just a throttling mistake, was it?”

“If I wasn’t putting out enough power, I could have compensated by building speed well before we started to climb, or looked around for a thermal. There were a multitude of things a truant like me could have done, but I’m flying like a larval twister who just put her ass in a pit for the first time yesterday.”

“That might be true, but looking at the numbers here, the problem is that our eight reactor cores are playing hooky, too! The nuclear fusion engines aren’t fully igniting. Why has it been so difficult to get them burning...?”

“There are three conditions for a nuclear reactor to burn, aren’t there? Temperature, pressure, and particle count, right?”

“Right. There aren’t any temperature or pressure abnormalities, and yet, some of the particle counts are strangely low... ah, is that also because of the plasma shower?”

“You strengthened the outboard circuit, though.”

“I did, but it’s different for the nozzles. The nuclear fusion exhaust spewing out meant that I couldn’t fully strengthen it back there! So, they’re still getting rained on by charged particles. The plasma’s falling down and... ah, that has to be it. Before it can start combusting, the fuel is getting hit by the plasma shower and de-densifying. It’s like trying to heat a bath with firewood that’s filled with termite holes.”

“What’s a termite—wait, that’s more animal talk, isn’t it? Save it for later!”

“Okay, I’ll tell you about termites some other time. Anyway, what we need now is a protective shield for the combustion chamber. I'll make one quickly—it really is just like Meika-san said.”

“Soooo if it’s how it’s going to be... Then the real problem was failing to study properly, as a Gendō twister, in the traditional Gendō art of polar fishing. Just like a certain woman named Diode!”

The conditions of flight at the poles were beyond anything they could have imagined before. As they flew on, they understood that Meika had given them genuine advice, a sickening amount of it. The reality that they had no choice but to accept that advice and follow in her footsteps, even if reluctantly, tormented the two.

Speaking of Meika and Chūya...

A body emerged from the abyss, twisting as it raced up the majestic fluttering glow of the aurora, mouth open as if to drink from the torrent pouring down on it; this was the besshu known as the nishikigoi. The means by which it propelled itself skyward couldn’t be stated with certainty, but it was clear that it somehow took advantage of the high-energy plasma shower.

Their vessel moved with precision, a contrast to the other vessel which both fumbled its trajectory and  failed to accelerate.

“Embark we will // on our eighth pursuit!
Shadow the trail // of the whirling fish!”

“Steady she goes
Shadowing trail // of the whirling fish!”

A call was loudly chanted by Meika, the decomper, and Chūya, the twister, chanted the response. They were in Gendō-style deck dress; Meika in a long-sleeved kimono and hair styled in a knot atop her head, Chūya in a crested kimono and hakama, hair in a ponytail down his back. They intently watched a single besshu circle in the depths below, and when they saw it abruptly shoot off in a straight line, accelerated towards the horizon in the same direction while precisely matching its speed.

The nishikigoi climbed. It wasn’t a purely vertical ascent, to be precise, but it ascended upstream at a steep angle. As long as they knew the inclination of the fish's ascent—close to 80°—it was perfectly possible to chase from behind. The two did exactly that, but didn't deploy a net right away.

“Proceed we will // with our eighth pursuit!
Cross ‘neath the tail // of the rising fish!”

“Steady she goes
Crossing ‘neath tail // of the rising fish!”

Chūya chanted in response to the second call.The pillar boat passed just under the besshu. Their vectors intersected, and an instant before crossing–

“Twist of the tale // of our eighth pursuit!
Embrace the gut // of the soaring fish!”

“Steady she goes
Embracing the gut // of the soaring fish!”

The pillar boat pitched up as Chūya responded to the third chant. It was a similar maneuver to the ancient Immelmann turn, except that the boat didn’t return to level flight. As they ascended near-vertically, they closed distance with the fish’s ventral section—the besshu’s gut. The pursuing boat pitched again and decelerated superbly to fly in tandem with the besshu. The fish made no effort to flee whatsoever.

Nishikigoi couldn’t see their bellies. That was the case for a number of besshu, but this particular besshu was the type with a field of vision that monitored what was above it. Approaching from below was trivial.

“Conclude we will // end our eighth pursuit!
Casting a throw // to the starbound fish!”

“Steady she goes
Cast out your throw // to the starbound fish!”

The fourth response came. The previous three responses used the present participle, but the conclusion was in the imperative form. The reason for this structure was that the first three chants were the twister’s job to follow, but the conclusion was the decomper’s. That was the point where both standard fishing and ancient Gendō custom overlapped—once the catch was underway, the woman was under the orders of the man commanding the ship.

“Our chase concludes // with my one-and-only cast
Ensnaring the face // of the starbound fish!”

The net finally spread. However, they didn't engulf their prey with a dragnet from behind. The net ran along the length of the bow and used a rotating crossarm to swing it ahead of the besshu to forcefully snag the fish.

The nishikigoi is a forward swimmer, or rather, it is a besshu that specializes in darting. When a net made contact, the fish reacted to the stimulation with a burst of explosive power, launching the already supersonic fish to even greater velocities.

That was what made it a fools’ errand to cast a net from behind—it had to block the fish from the front. The instructions for the meticulous process of setting that up, developed long ago, were encoded in a chant to be performed and followed by a pair. Even then, the catch still was a toss-up. By that point, they had reached an altitude of over one hundred thousand meters and were only halfway through the lower end of the aurora. The space around them glowed with particles. A young girl, only three months out of her student days, swung her net through the downpour of plasma.

As Meika raised her voice, she sprung the crossbar and unfurled the net. A whispy white half-circle spread open and brushed the chin of the strange, slack-jawed fish. In an instant, the besshu coiled and sprang with full force, smacking their boat with its absurdly powerful tail fin.

Meika’s vessel immediately cartwheeled, air resistance shearing the net and crossarm from the boat as it careened away at an angle from the fish. Their prey disappeared as it whirled off into the distance. With the failure, two white points went their separate ways against the backdrop of stars and a curtain of light.

“Meika-sama!”

“There is no need to worry!” The girl promptly replied to the zuijin, who was worriedly shouting for his master in a pillar boat that had fallen seventy thousand meters. “That fish was simply a touch defiant. Next time I will make the catch!”

Meika rubbed her face, which had been knocked against the control pit’s wall, and quickly pulled up the VUI. She bent the boat back into shape through decompression and looked up to a region of the sky above. In it, several spectator vessels and two accompanying pillar boats were on patrol.

“I can properly perform what I was taught by Mokuren and Rokujō, and what Kanna-san and Terra-san are doing makes no sense at all. Of course, that means I will win this! Let us embark // on a ninth pursuit! ”

“As you wish. Let us embark // on a ninth pursuit ,” Chūya replied, swinging the bow towards their next quarry.

The method the two were using wasn’t new, nor was it captivating, beautiful, or open to maneuvers that would leave one another speechless. It was an old method, passed down by a clan that believed something only needed to be taught once to be replicated again and again. But like a plant that had put down roots, it was a method certain to eventually bear fruit.

3

“Ah, another one...” Terra whispered unintentionally while looking up, then hastily covered her mouth. She did it so Diode wouldn’t hear.

Diode had seen it herself, though. “That was their third head, wasn’t it?” She quietly, and bitterly, asked. “Meika is already on her ninth throw with three catches, while we...” Terra wouldn’t speak above a mumble, leaving Diode to finish saying it. “We’ve caught nothing. Zilch. Zero. We’re bald.”

“Like a bald head... now that you mention it, have you ever wondered what that saying means?”

“Long ago, the punishment for fishers who couldn’t catch anything was to fully shave their head. At this rate, we might end up in the same boat ourselves.”

“Wait, they’re going to give you a buzz cut?” Terra groaned as she imagined Diode’s glossy silver hair being reduced to nothing. “It’s okay—I’m sure you’d rock it! And I would pet you!”

“I don’t want that. I haven’t even gotten to touch your hair at all. Let’s avoid conceding to Meika with shiny, bald heads.” It was only at times like this did Diode’s sharp tongue seem somewhat dulled. “But really, what will we do now...?”

Their pillar boat slowly circled the troposphere. It had already been three hours since they started to fish. It was afternoon as far as local time on FBB was concerned, but the star was barely above the horizon. It was awfully difficult to make out the scenery when looking in its direction, but on the other hand, the besshu’s coloration was ludicrously difficult to see—almost indetectable—when they flew with the star to their backs.

“Die-san, is it possible the nishikigoi are camouflaging?”

“Yes. They are. The ‘nishiki’ part of their name refers to a unique kind of cloth that shines differently based on the angle you look at it. Even though it’s a lost technology that can’t be reproduced on modern printers, it’s believed their mysterious luster comes from something similar. That coloration disappears after they’re caught, though.”

“Ohhhh, interesting! So they evolved that way because the fact they’d get attacked during their ascent was woven into them... no, I wonder about that?”

Terra paused for a moment to think. Since the variety of FBB’s besshu were created by Professor Exceptional Eda using her knowledge of fish from Earth, she wondered if it was really appropriate to call it evolution .

Diode tilted her head and gave a barbed response. “Should you really be thinking about that right now?”

“I’m not sure. I just thought we could find a hint for the way to catch them, but maybe that doesn’t require thinking about evolution.” Terra forced a smile and rubbed her hair to put the conversation back on track. “For now, I guess the question on my mind is just why they’re climbing that high?”

“...Now that you mention, something like this happened before.” Diode breathed out and followed Terra’s train of thought. “Back when we were trying to catch bachi orca, you said something along the lines of ‘I wonder why they jump?’”

“Yeah, exactly! Back then it turned out the ones we could see were being chased around by something bigger than them inside of the clouds.”

“How about we watch the replay, then.”

Terra worked with the VUI to look at the records of everything they’d done up to that point, but she was let down. “No chasers showing up on radar or optical instrumentation.”

“Which means they’re not jumping to get away from a predator.”

“Maybe they’re climbing on a whim? Haha...” Terra forced a laugh. There was no way they were leaping several hundred kilometers high on a lark.

Diode shook her head. “I’m not sure either. Anyway, there’s something else I’ve been wondering about.”

“Something else?”

“How are they able to effortlessly swim around in an intense plasma shower like this?” She pointed at the shield meter, so Terra looked too.

The outboard wiring was successfully protecting them from the downpour of charged particles, but the amount of electricity it required was no joke. It was using a whole 10% of their electrical output.

“You’re right. We were sizzling from the radiation at first and it took a huge toll on us to even get to the point where we’re neutralizing it, but they’re mysteriously able to act like it’s no big deal.”

“Besshu are creatures that do  live inside those insane storms, so maybe they’re completely fine even here?”

“Still, plasma and lightning are very different. I think if besshu from the mid- to low-latitudes tried swimming into what effectively is a particle cannon, they’d get taken out, you know? And yet, the besshu here only seem to be getting more energetic instead of getting worn down.”

“How about we try taking another look at the nishikigoi’s ecological data, then?”

The two checked their library entry again, but the details were vague—it was impossible to research its particulars, because the nishikigoi’s organs dissolve shortly after a catch. It was a strange phenomenon, but not unheard of for besshu.

“Mmghh, ecology unknown, goals unknown...”

Terra puzzled over it earnestly, but no good explanations or insights came to mind. The boat swung around and turned to descend while she thought.

“Terra-san, handle the thinking, please. I’ll do what I can.”

“Did you figure out a way?!”

“Copying those two,” Diode replied uncomfortably. “For the time being, we should imitate what they’re doing.”

“R-right! Meika-san didn’t say we couldn’t copy her, so maybe if we do, we’ll find an opportunity to develop a strategy!”

“Can you handle it if I trust you with managing the power? Don’t push it too far.”

If Diode was in perfect condition, she would be asking for the impossible instead. However, this time Terra chose to indulge in her kindness. “I can keep our power draw within the limits.”

They nosedived, their eyes already on a lone nishikigoi below. After tracking its ascent and verifying its trajectory, they began their pursuit, leaving a trail that resembled a double helix inside the curtain of light swaying across the sky.

This besshu seemed to be exceptionally energetic. They couldn’t quite close the distance to it even though they were ascending at full power. Diode ground her teeth as she pushed the throttle right up to the lower edge of emergency output.

“Damn it... The speed won’t go any higher.”

“I’ll keep trying, I can give you another 3% of output!”

“I told you not to push it, didn’t I? Where were you thinking about getting that power from? The outboard wiring?”

“Err... um.”

“So you were  thinking of getting it from there! You can’t! Making a catch isn’t worth whatever happens to our DNA when we take a particle beam to our faces! Your precious genome is going to get totally shredded! Do you have any other options?”

“—Sorry, nothing else at the moment...!”

“Understood, I’ll manage somehow.”

True to her word, Diode increased the speed by an extra percentage by tweaking the control surfaces. It was for reasons like those that her piloting ability couldn’t be described as anything less than extraordinary.

The pillar boat chased down the nishikigoi from behind its tail, sliding between its scissor-like tail fins as it vigorously twirled in its ascent. Finally, after they were practically aligned, they lunged above it and neatly rolled so that they were showing their bellies to one another, almost like they were mating with it—

“Oof.” “AIEEE!”

A violent vibration suddenly spread from the boat’s ventral section just after what seemed like a huge blunt impact.

“Flutter!” Diode shouted, pulling back on the throttle panels. The pillar boat rapidly separated from their prey and entered an aimless sub-orbital trajectory.

“Are you all right, Terra-san?”

“Mhm, I’m fine. We didn’t take any damage. That was just an emergency separation, right?”

“Yes. We weren’t hit, so I suspect that was shuddering from the airflow... Ah, right.” Diode rewatched the recording of the chase and nodded. “The moment we got to within three meters of the besshu, we caused some turbulence that formed vortices. We got too close.”

“Huh? But there’s no such thing as a twenty-meter swing arm to cast the net. Considering the size of the fish, it’s still more preferable to be about three meters away.”

“And if you could say precisely, down to the decimal?”

Terra included the scale in the 3D blueprint and read off the value. “Under 3.9 meters, if possible.”

“More than three meters, but under 3.9 meters...” Diode mumbled, then grimaced. “That’s why... I messed up.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I was only focusing on Meika, when really Jigō-san is the one to fear.”

“Chūya Jigō-san... that’s her twister, right?” That information had been important enough for her to hear it during reentry. “A zuijin’s something like a servant, right? It’s incredible that he’s able to pilot despite only being a servant, though.”

“Terra-san, you’re mistaken. He’s no mere servant; he’s a talented twister who was trained directly by the two top-ranked fishers in Gendō.”

“Huh, so he’s a pro, then?”

“He’s not, but for him to become one would be... Never mind, maybe you’ll understand better if I put it this way: he was the shuttle pilot pursuing us back in the black-veined squid nest.”

Terra’s expression went blank as the weightless pillar boat crested the arc of its parabola. Two diametrically opposed emotions, respect and enmity, seemed to continue upward on a collision course.

“Ah, so he managed to return unharmed... then again, doesn’t that make him an outright enemy?!”

“Yes, and if we had just let him fall, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Well... I wouldn’t go that far...”

“Because you’re trying to have it both ways,” Diode huffed, dangling upside down in her control pit as she pouted. “Anyway, he’s very good, and he’s probably even more serious now, since he’s now carrying his  young lady, who he values more than his own life. That’s why he’s so exacting. His calculation errors are under a meter.”

“So he’s too much, even for you?”

“Get real, of course not,” Diode replied instantly, her expression not brightening. “I can even make an approach with a 0.1 meter error... that’s if, um.”

“I get it. That’s if the boat can do its job, right?”

“...” The girl averted her eyes, understandably so. They were in a fight that required careful thought and their full efforts. The two were a highly skilled combo, but anything short of perfection would leave them stranded in a land of zero.

“As long as the boat can do its job...” Terra stopped and corrected herself. “More like, the boat has to be better than perfect, right?”

“...I wouldn’t go that  far–”

“No, I meant, if you're flying a boat that does its job, your genius will at least put you on the same level as Chūya-san—on the same level as Gendō tradition. But that’s not really what we’re aiming for here.”

Diode thought about it and gave a small nod. “Yeah. So, unless we treat the tradition like it’s a joke, we wo–” The pillar boat descended into a chasm between clouds bowfirst. She suddenly stopped talking and stared into the sky below her feet. “...What’s that?”

Terra directed her gaze to her own feet. Several small spheres released a piercing light as they came from an abyss that was entirely filled with blue-purple flames.

“...Uhh.” Her senses were flipped, so she rotated the control pit. The abyss became the sky, and the floating spheres became falling spheres. What seemed to be the exhaust plume of a pillar boat fluttered by them, as if it had just departed. “I wonder...?”

“Looks like something Meika did.”

They magnified their long-range feed and were positive they were looking at a balloon. It was huge, almost three hundred meters in diameter, and there was likely something burning in one section of it given how brightly it was shining. Below it hung a thick, oblong gondola over fifty meters wide.

“At that size... it really doesn’t strike me as an observation device. Perhaps it’s a weapon or obstacle?”

Diode mumbled as she looked at Terra, who shook her head.

“That’s not what it is. You can’t tell?”

“Please, don’t drag this out...”

“I won’t. It’s simple. They detached something big and heavy from the pillar boat before returning to operations. What would give them a reason to do that?”

“...So that’s their prey?!”

“Yeah, I’m certain of it.” Terra nodded, her expression stiff. “It’s not easy to go up and down over and over while carrying a load of besshu. That’s why they suspended their prey and left it floating on a balloon like that. That bright light is probably a jet because it’s a hot-air balloon.”

“Wait, haven’t we also done something like that?” Diode was correct, they had come up with a similar fishing method down in the mid-latitude belts.

Astounded, Terra replied, “Our method divided the pillar boat in two, with a mothership and child, keeping the mothership at altitude. What they’re  doing is wrapping the catch in ultrathin fiber and leaving it behind. That way, the twister and decomper can fly off together. Which one do you think is more efficient?”

“...Tch.” Diode clicked her tongue.

Meika worked strictly in accordance with tradition, so it seemed decomping a balloon like that was a part of it. Terra could tell perfectly well that Diode looked down on it as an antique practice.

“Let’s move on to our next one, Die-san.”

The moment Terra tried to give her some encouragement, Diode locked eyes with a spot in the sky and quickly worked her VUI. She magnified the long-range feed and showed it to Terra. One of Meika’s balloons had collapsed in shreds and started to fall.

“...Isn’t that coming our way?”

Diode usually reacted to Terra’s voice instantly, but this time—and only this time—it was natural that she’d hesitate. Even so, she swung the bow towards the falling object. It simply seemed like an object in freefall, not making any particularly strange movements, and that made calculating its trajectory simple. After a few minutes, they matched trajectories and descended on the same vector.

The object surrounded by a cylinder of AMC clay seemed to be prey. It was small though, at most around fifteen meters in size.

“Should we pick it up?” Terra sensed Diode’s back stiffening at her question—maybe she could have phrased it differently, but she’d be saying the same thing anyway. “Let’s take it, Die-san. I think it’ll be fine if we give it back to them. It’s not like we’d be stealing it.”

“...Yeah.”

Diode brought the boat in as they dropped into the shadow of the cloud that towered over them. Decomping the back of the pillar boat to swallow the lost item was as simple as plucking fruit from the branch.

4

The two were under watch from beginning to end during their return to Fuyō.  When they arrived, they were directed to enter through the sunlit business port, not the shadowed operations port they departed from. It's over —Terra thought. They could have attempted an all-or-nothing escape attempt by trying to hop in the Insomnia  if they'd entered through the operations port, but even that possibility had been foreclosed.

Flamboyant, colorful lighting ornamented the business port entrance, which was located on the flower-shaped Fuyō’s  stigma. Its centerpiece was the giant, iris-like gate which, owing to its 400-meter diameter, was capable of admitting not only large spaceships into the premises, but entire fleets. The port was wholly different from those of the other clans—simple piers which jutted into the vacuum—and the Gendō took great pride in it. Still, constantly cycling such a large airlock chewed through oxygen. As a result, it only saw use during VIP visits or ceremonial events.

“Good work, Kanna-san and Terra-san. Your commendable efforts have brought you here.” The transmission came from the pillar boat ahead of Terra and Diode. The plasma pink ribbons that adorned Meika’s midnight blue hair swayed as she moved around in a way that suggested she was attempting to peek in on them through the camera feed.

“My my, do show your faces, will you? Well, I suppose there are times when girls don’t want to see each other. I had been anticipating the possibility of meeting with you as we disembarked, but... passing through the airlock one-by-one is taxing .” Through the projected image of Meika, the colossal circular port door could be seen slowly starting to opening like an iris. “One does not often encounter opportunities for such a grand entrance, so do be sure to fully enjoy it as you bring the boat in. Those waiting at dock are eager for you to put in an appearance,” she kindly suggested, then vanished with an amused laugh.

“That blackhearted woman... She’s totally making us into a sideshow.”

Diode frowned without a single word in response, then closed her eyes in regret. Needless to say, their contest ended in total defeat. Meika and Chūya caught six heads totaling 48,000 tonnes, while Terra and Diode only caught the small fish Meika dropped. That single head only weighed 1800 tonnes, so there was no need to go through the process of verifying the results. The next step was simple and effective: nothing more than formalities which would destroy their remaining hope.

Terra watched the situation develop around them from the rear pit. Their pillar boat descended in automatic entry mode; extreme maneuvering while attempting the unfamiliar fishing style left them with less than 10,000 tonnes of mass. Two pillar boat escorts with far more fuel were practically glued to them even before atmospheric escape, and the cannon near the business port remained aimed at them the entire time. Not even water would leak around the security curtain.

“She’s turning us into a sideshow, but locking us in behind the gate is also her way of completely trapping us, isn’t it?”

“That’s the kind of woman she is.”

“So... I know it's a bit premature, but let me apologize again.” Terra brought her control pit level with Diode’s. “I put on that display of bravado, but I wasn’t able to win this for you. That probably will only cause you no end of trouble from now on. I’m sorry—I was useless.”

“What.” The girl’s expression grew confused as her eyebrows shot up. “What?! Just who do you think you are, huh?”

“Isn’t our age difference big enough to make me your responsible older sister?”

“Age? Why bring that  up? I haven’t paid your age any mind for the last three and a half months. And when it comes to flight time, I’m definitely the veteran here, am I not? You could say that about a few other things too, so what makes you suddenly act like this is your  fault?”

“Because if you add it up, I’m responsible for a larger number of the things that shouldn’t have happened, that should have been done, and that went wrong. You got captured alone and lost your freedom. You didn’t have the escape ship, Eda-san’s assistance, money, anything . Compared to you, I had all that and  the time to come up with a plan and  my decomping abilities. I could have destroyed the port with a clay mass or slipped past our enemies by hiding in clay. Now that I look back, there was a lot I could have done, b– sniff– but my re– sniff –resolve and ideas were– sniff –n’t enough.”

“Wait, now you’re going to cry?! Isn’t that playing dirty?! If you’re crying, then I’m going to cry, too. Despite all those choices and abilities of yours, this clan still managed to get you tangled up in its pointless conflicts and rotten destiny, and from now on you’ll be imprisoned and confined to a breeding program—no, actually, the Clan Chief is interested in you or something, so he obviously has some vague plan or hopes for you. Please think about how I  feel, knowing I’ll have to see the one I love off to a temple of darkness!”

“WUAHH.... DIEZAAAAANNNN...”

Terra rushed to fuse the two control pits together before Diode coldly pushed her aside with, “Woah, back off...”

“Whyy?! Even though we might be separated for life!” Terra cried.

“That might be true, but I don’t want our last moments together to be that  pathetic! You’re not like that! You can be more composed. Wipe your face, Miss Twenty-Four Years Old!”

“Wiiibe by...” Terra groaned. She had shown her most vulnerable point, and moments later, been skewered through it. She turned around and wiped her face with her sleeve—forcefully enough to leave scratches on her nose from the rough fabric of the deck dress—and then faced Diode with a hopeless expression. “I wiped my face.”

“Good.”

“Also, I calmed down a little—sorry.” Terra felt back to her senses after venting a little. She blushed and hung her head. The biofluid gel was getting hot.

“Okay. How should I put this...” Diode looked exhausted from wearing the unfamiliar kasuri kimono and sighed like she was three steps past her tolerance for everything. “You have a lot of boxed-up crying fits stashed away in your closet, don’t you?”

“Sorry.”

“And you sure calmed down in a hurry, huh.”

“Yeah. The door started to burst open just a little there. But that’s just how upset I was!”

“Well... It’s good that you wear your heart on your sleeve so openly.”

“How about you, Die-san? Are you always going to stay this calm?”

“What?” Diode glared. She looked up at a corner, down at the ground in the opposite direction, then hummed as she squeezed her eyes shut. Then, quietly, she spoke. “Yes, I will. As long as you don’t die.”

“...Could you open up?” Terra asked as she knocked on the wall separating them.

Diode opened her pit and gave her a ‘hmph’ before turning her face away. Terra anxiously climbed in and reached out to hug her.

“Die-san...!”

That exact moment, she heard a notification ping from a registered contact. “‘Scuse me, Terra-san, but do you copy? I’ve got a time-limited offer for you.” The voice sounded familiar. Terra returned to her pit like she’d been flicked.

“Uhhh... This voice... Pri-san?! You weren’t peeking in here, were you?”

“Wha? No. I wasn’t peeking, I can see your boat. Ah, don’t ask where or how, no time to explain.” In a tone that didn’t seem to be hiding any particular intent, the Trades woman said something Terra didn’t expect. “You two lost the fishing contest and you’re expecting about to receive public humiliation as criminals, yeah?”

“We really didn’t want it to end that way, though.”

“Well, if you had the option between that and running away as extremely -wanted criminals after destroying it all, which would you choose?”

Terra’s mouth was agape. She locked eyes with Diode, who was already staring at her.

The girl replied, “It’s a trap. There’s the possibility she’ll pin it on us if anything goes wrong.”

“Is she really that bad a person? Never mind,” Terra said, shaking her head. “Even if it’s a trap, it’s still the better option. Pri-san!”

“Present! So, what’ll it be? Answer in the next few seconds, please!”

“We’ll take ‘destroy it all’!”

“Got it! Well, not like you had much choice!”

As she gave her cheerful rejoinder, the two felt a gentle vibration. The pillar boat, still on autopilot, had touched down. The gate overhead was beginning to close.

“So, what are you planning to do?”

“Actually, you’ll play leading lady. Can you decomp?”

“Er, let me see.” Terra gently extended her consciousness outside of the gel, checking to see if she felt one with the boat. “Yes, I can.”

“Could you chop the pillar boat into a hundred pieces?”

“What?!”

“It’s a decoy plan. You’ll hide among 99 other pieces while I snatch up the one you lot are in. Can you do that? You can, yeah? Be quick about it!”

Terra momentarily held her breath, then closed her eyes. She was weighing the advantages and disadvantages with no input from the girl next to her. To her surprise, she concluded it could work. At the very least, it wouldn’t cause sudden death or mass destruction. Utter mayhem, maybe, but that ‘maybe’ was precisely the reason it would be effective.

“Die-san, be sure not to separate the pits.”

“Ok.”

“Three, two, one, NOW!” Comforted by Diode’s immediate and indifferent response, Terra acted decisively to put the plan into action.

Decompression—break the boat into a hundred pieces—or more like breaking the boat into ten pieces and then breaking each of those into ten more pieces. It was difficult to picture her body suddenly dividing into one hundred pieces, but simple to imagine subdividing ten separate pieces that only weighed a few hundred tonnes. Starting from the bow, she made nine cuts to divide the boat into round slices of roughly the same size, maintained a connection between them with thin strands, and then radially divided the rounds in ten. The mental image of cutting ingredients by hand while hobby cooking had served her well.

Then she molded the part they were in and maybe three others into stars as a signal, and the rest into fan shapes similar to pizza slices. Terra worked as quickly as she could while doing her best to avoid mistakes with her measurements. From start to finish, the whole process took five seconds.The people waiting around Fuyō’s business port were startled—to them, the pillar boat that had slowly followed in behind Meika looked like it had suddenly been cut up with a knife and split into round slices. Before anyone could register what was happening, the pieces broke apart and scattered.

<<Mega burst detected! Seek thermal and contamination protection!>>

The warning was immediately issued for the entirety of the pressurized area, and people in the vicinity rushed for shelters. The port hatch closure came to an emergency stop in order to vent contaminated air into space. Responder sirens came rushing in from all across the base ship.

The only witnesses to what happened next were in the first squad to respond. A single utility vessel appeared in a gap between container-sized boat fragments that tumbled and bounced off one another in the zero-g environment, and securing one, rushed off into space.

Table of Johor

1

Foreigners’ Ship Explosion an Act of Terrorism?

At around 5 P.M. of Day 108, CC 304, a spaceship exploded within the confines of the Great Gate of the business port on the north end of our base ship Fūyo . Kanna Ishidōrō Gendō, 18, and Terra Intercontinental Endeavour, 24, are listed as missing in the incident’s wake. Additionally, two low-pressure environment workers sustained minor injuries, including arm bruising. The incident occurred as a pillar boat was proceeding towards dock when it suddenly disintegrated for reasons which are still unclear. A blast wave did not occur due to the unpressurized environment within the port at that time. Shortly afterwards, a vessel registered to the Jack-of-All-Trades clan departed through the gate without port clearance. The Bureau of Protocol is attempting to determine the present location of this vessel in order to investigate any possible connection to the incident.

—Article from the Day 114 morning edition of the Gendō clan newspaper Tōryūmon  [ Gateway to Success]

⠀

WE OBJECT  to these unfounded allegations.

We at the Trades' Council of Elders offer our sincerest condolences to the missing, the injured, and those who suffered mental distress and property damage from the explosion which occurred within the Gendō clan’s base ship on the evening of Day 108.

The vessel registered to the Jack-of-All-Trades which left port shortly after the incident, the Insolvent , is a harmless shuttlecraft which follows proper procedure in its operational conduct. The cause of the explosion should come to light following a complete investigation, but our Council can guarantee with the full faith and trust of our clan that the Insolvent  was not responsible, either directly or indirectly.

In serious matters such as this, we will not tolerate unproven allegations of criminal activity directed towards our people and vessels. We have obtained credible reports indicating that these biased news articles are intended to direct the eyes of our society away from more important matters.

Again, we object to these unwarranted allegations. In addition, we will be conducting a thorough, continuing investigation into the person or persons behind these allegations and the motives behind their accusations.

—Declaration from the official Trades’ Interclan Net Account (ICN)

“Are you an inspector, Pri-san?”

As the Insolvent ascended into an elliptical orbit following its escape from Fūyo , the two—once again rescued along with their control pits—raised their suspicions.

“What’s that?”

“You know, like at a Bow Awow?”

Terra seemed slightly more knowledgeable on the matter.

Diode huffed, turning to ask, “What’s an inspector, Terra-san?”

“I mean, everyone who went to elem—sorry, basically, an inspector is a detective temporarily assigned to the Bow Awow for the purpose of investigating the political affairs of each clan to guarantee the safety of all Circs.” Everyone who went to elementary cruise school is taught that— Terra had swallowed her words before answering. She returned her attention to the VUI. “Is that your real identity, then? And being a helium inhaler was just a cover?”

Pri appeared on projection from the main ship. The dark brown woman with twintails and a bright smile nodded vaguely. “Ahhh, yeah, I suppose you could say doing stuff like picking up you two and your control pits is kinda part of my job.”

“You don’t say...?”

“Of course it’s not, don’t let her sweet-talk you. Her? An inspector? There’s no way she would have a position like that!” Diode said to cut off Terra, who was meekly going along with Pri.

“Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“No matter how you look at it, wasn’t our rescue by a helium extractor just a coincidence? Are you telling me an inspector just happened to be conveniently operating near us in the cloud sea? There’s no way.”

“Ah, now that you mention it...”

“Either that, or she became an inspector after we were rescued, but would an inhaler really be given a position like that so easily? Well, Pri-san, what do you have to say to that?!”

Pri laughed breezily as Diode pointed at her projection to rebut her.

“Ahaha, that’s right! Like you said, there’s no way I could be an inspector. You’re better off believing it if that’s what you think, so how about we forget all about this? Now, if you’ll excuse me!”

“Huh, wait...”

“Hmm? What is it?” Pri was already lifting a hand to cut the transmission but paused to look at Diode, amusemed.

Diode got the feeling she just said something stupid and thought a little harder. “Assuming you were there by coincidence, you can’t be anything but an inhaler, but... maybe you weren’t there by coincidence?”

“Oh?”

“You were monitoring us from the start? Yeah, no, that can’t be it. You couldn’t have seen us leave Idaho ... It was the attack shuttle. So, you were monitoring the shuttle Jigō-san was piloting to attack us. From the moment it left Fūyo ? That’s why you were in a position to rescue us after we managed to climb back out after our crash?”

“...Kanna-san, no, Diode-san, you think fast,” Pri said simply before falling quiet. She was smiling as always, but that smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“No, wait,” Diode said, pressing her forehead. “Assuming it’s true that you’re an inspector like Terra-san says, you’re someone who would only be assigned to a major incident, right? My getting attacked and Terra coming to my rescue doesn’t rise to that level, so what brings you into this?”

“Die-san, we’re important, aren’t we?!”

“No, not compared to something like the Bow Awow! Right, Pri-san?”

Diode pushed the encroaching Terra back and looked at Pri. Pri smiled and stretched her neck side-to-side before responding.

“Hmm... This time, a lot went smoothly thanks to you two, which is why you’re being brought back with us like this. Well, that’s the short version, anyway.” Still acting cheerful and smiling, Pri looked at someone offscreen before continuing. “Ahaha... but it looks like you’re gonna have to hold tight for a while before you get the long version.”

“...Are you really  an inspector?”

“Well, you can trust me on this whenever you want to, but for now, Kanna Ishidōrō Gendō-san and Terra-san, you two will be taken care of like you’re one of the Trades. Er, I should say, you already are  being treated like one of us, because otherwise you’d get packed off again. Meanwhile, we’ll try to get the situation under control, and once we manage that you two will be free to go.”

“We’re being imprisoned, then? For how long?” Terra asked, bending forward.

Pri shrugged. “Who knows? Depends on the guys over there. If anything, I’d like to know too. By the way, Diode-san, there’s a lot they’re gonna want to ask you about.”

The two didn’t reply.

“Ahh, no, don’t get the wrong idea,” Pri said with a wave of her hand, smiling wryly. “There’s nothing to be scared of. We understand that fundamentally, you two are victims here—sure, you both did a lot of things; jumping ship without permission, suspicion of bribery—but our division doesn’t handle those cases and we’re not about to start now. You’re our guests. Guests who should try very  hard to lay low.”

“That’s fine then, I guess...”

“Ah, right! There’s also no need to worry about expenses during your stay!”

“You’re going to handle that?”

“Nope, because if I did, you wouldn’t have to pay interest!”

“...”

“So, kick back and relax! There’s no rush, you can pay it off at your own pace.”

It might have been a Trades joke, but the two didn’t feel like laughing.

Pri spoke to someone offscreen again, nodded, and then spoke, “I asked this before, but... How about you two come live with my clan?”

“We already gave you our answer. We’re a pair of women flying a pillar boat together, and we’re only going to live somewhere we can do that,” Diode firmly replied.

Pri’s response was unexpected.

“Yeah, you did tell me that. And well, I spoke with my superiors after that... If I told you the winds had changed a little and women could board together, what then?”

For a moment, the two fell silent. They looked at one another, then away for some reason.

“Let us think about it,” Terra replied.

True to its name, the Trades’ base ship Table of Johor  was shaped like a round dining table that spun with its legs pointed at their star. As for the meaning of the name “Johor”, Terra couldn’t remember.

She had the feeling that things were being explained to her on the ship on their way over, but she was nearing the limits of exhaustion and couldn’t remember much. Far too many things had happened in the preceding five days, the last twenty-four hours especially— When was the last time I had a proper place to sleep...? It must have been while I was still aboard the Insomnia , so the night before I snuck into the Gendō clan! I ended up leaving so much behind there...

And so—

“Well, like I said, here’s the room. Make sure to get some rest, you two!”

Terra followed Pri’s urging, and the moment she passed the simple twin room with two beds and a little gravity, her emotional thread snapped.

“I’m going to sleep. Sorry.”

“What? But we still have a lot of things we need to disc–”

“Mhm, we do, but I’m at my limits, for real.” She wobbled to the shower room door and started to open it, but just before she did, she suddenly turned and asked, “Is it okay if we share a room?”

“...Obviously?”

Hearing that, Terra entered the bathroom feeling relieved from the bottom of her heart.

They had a pile of things to talk through and mull over, but her head felt like it was filled with the ash left over from a fire. The duct dress she had been wearing up until then felt like a suit of armor. Once she finished sluggishly peeling it off, she started pouring hot water over her head.

After she started rinsing, the door behind her suddenly burst open. She could hear the sound of clothing being tossed on the floor outside.

“What?! Wait–”

Terra tried to look behind her, but water and bangs covered her face. She felt the woosh of the door closing, followed by arms hugging her waist and a thin body gently pressing itself against her back.

Her body tensed, and stifling a scream, she called out, “D–Die-san? What’s up?!”

“Nothing’s up.” Terra felt the girl’s breath at the base of her shoulder blades. The arms around her were slightly sticky, but smooth and warm. She was naked. “Nothing’s the matter. Mm...”

“Um, there’s still so much we haven’t—wait–”

“If you really  don’t want me here, I’ll leave.”

Terra, who until that moment had been in a frenzy, brought herself to a halt when she heard that. Not because she was thinking of having Diode leave, but because she felt a nervous tension in the arms embracing her in spite of the girl’s brazenness.

Terra took a deep breath and accepted the fact that this day would come eventually. She asked, “Can we get out and talk this over first?”

“If we get out, we’ll have so much else to talk about.”

“Yeah...”

“And once we talk about all of that, we’ll have so much to think about, too.”

So much —Terra didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of matters at hand. She understood how Diode felt.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s better this way.”

“So this is fine?”

“Yes—I’m... really not against it.”

Her resolve got through. Diode lifted her face and called out Terra’s name as she took her by the hand.

“Ah, I’m sorry for catching you off guard like that–”

“It’s okay, but don’t  do that again.”

Terra relaxed her body. Diode followed suit and softly pressed closer.

“Die-san...”

“Mmm, Terra-san...”

Hot water continued to rain on them.

After lightly rinsing the front of her body, she slipped her hand under Diode’s small, delicate armpit and moved her in front, letting the water rinse down the girl’s hair and over her shoulders. Terra wasn’t sure what she was supposed  to do in this situation, but that had been something she wanted  to do. She felt certain Diode wasn’t complaining as she kept caressing the girl’s body.

Silver hair flowed between her fingers like water as Terra combed. The rising steam was mixed with a faint, herbal scent. What made Diode’s hair so beautiful was one of the great mysteries to Terra. Fascinated, Terra kept combing until she heard Diode nervously speak up.

“Maybe this isn’t just  a shower? No way...”

“For the Endeavours, there’s no such thing as just a shower , though?” Terra let a wry smile show. “Honestly, I’m still really not sure what to do, and we didn’t even put that finger thing on either...”

“It’s not something that needs  to be there for us to... We can clean ourselves up here.”

“You really know a lot about this stuff... Do you have experience with washing others?”

“...”

“You do, don’t you? Since you’re from another cla–” Terra felt a new, naive pain in her chest. She brought the girl’s dainty hand to the spot. “I don’t have any experience. I’m a woman from the Endeavour clan who doesn’t know a thing. So... Die-san, you’ll have to teach me how you do it.”

Diode’s palm pressed against her. Terra started to feel pulsing in the depths of her chest; the skin all over her body tingled.

“Guh...” Diode gulped. Her face was already sweaty, but her blush visibly deepened. “...I-it’s a very heavy responsibility, huh.”

“It is. It’s also one that’s this big, but do you think you can manage?”

“I’ll do my best!” Diode tugged Terra’s large palm, and Terra dropped to her knees in the same motion. Eyes now level, they pressed their lips to one another.

Before then, Terra had seen Diode’s petite frame in various poses. Standing, walking, sleeping, upside-down, running along the eaves overhanging the street, and of course, boldly maneuvering their pillar boat clad in a lovely deck dress. And every time she saw it, Terra got the sense that from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, Diode truly belonged in her body. It was a strange way to describe it, but that was how it felt in comparison to her own body. She always felt like it was a lot bigger than she was aware of. It would be better if I was shorter, smaller, lighter —that was the feeling she got whenever she became conscious of the parts of herself that felt like excess.

It was the opposite of how she felt about Diode. The visible lines of her completely nude body were flawless and beautiful, but as far as it went, Terra didn’t seem to feel much more than a sense of admiration, yearning, and regard for its loveliness. In fact, that feeling twisted inside out to become worry, then inverted yet again into fear.

Up until now, she didn’t enjoy being seen or touched by others, to put it mildly. So, it was possible Diode also wouldn’t like being seen or touched by someone as large as she was—and for Terra’s part, maybe she would dislike being touched too, even by someone she liked as much as Diode.

“Um, Terra-san.”

In fact, that fear and worry had been there from the start.

“Yeah?”

“You’re so warm.”

Hot water poured incessantly from the ceiling onto the shower floor. Diode leaned sideways across Terra’s kneeling thighs and stuck out her tongue.

“Even though you’re this big, this tall, so vast, so profound...” She tightly hugged Terra’s nape a few times, then took an arm and began caressing it in both hands; shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist. She alternated between kissing the palm and back of Terra’s hand, then rubbed her cheek against it.

“You’re not too firm at all. You’re soft and smooth, your smell is comforting, and you’re sooo warm...” Diode punctuated her statement by flicking her tongue along Terra’s fingers, tip to valley. Goosebumps rose on Terra’s neck and raced down er arms. Each time Diode started on another finger, she lifted her shoulders closer to Terra’s ample chest. It was almost as if she was trying to flatten her slender torso against Terra, shifting her intensity as she pulled closer and closer.

From Terra’s perspective, she was thrust into a situation where sensations she had never felt before were being massaged in by a heater rod overflowing with affection. The fears and worries she was expecting dissolved away into gasps and beads of sweat, and it left her in a headspace she never could have imagined. A completely different type of fear sprung forth.

“Um... Die... san...”

“Yes?”

“How... do I put it—” Terra squeezed her eyes shut as her shoulders shuddered, just from feeling some  part of Diode rub somewhere  on her body. “This is weird!”

“Huh?”

“This is weird, this is so weird... Die-san, that's not enough! What is happening ...”

“Ah...” Diode relaxed and sighed, planted a firm kiss on Terra's cheek, and whispered in her ear, “Sorry, I didn't mean to tease you, but I got all wrapped up in watching you.”

“That's not—it's not enough so... I—”

“Woah!”

Terra, without really understanding what she was doing and controlling her strength as best she could, squeezed Diode tight again and again, kissed her over and over, and on impulse, let her fingers crawl from mound to cleft and back again. As she pinned Diode to the floor, Terra cradled her head in hand like she was laying a baby to sleep. Casting a huge shadow on the girl, she leaned forward.

“I-I’m gonna go Die-san fishing now, alright?”

Diode, facing upwards, opened her eyes wide. Even so, she gave Terra a wide smile and defenselessly opened her arms wide.

“Fish away... Mm...”

Terra figured out it was the sort of exchange that, for the most part, she could take as much as she gave.

“Ahh...”

Two hours later, Terra wrapped her body and hair in towels and sat on the bed, mentally and physically exhausted. Diode appeared from the shower room, having used the built-in printer for a gorgeous bustier with fine, carefully placed lacework, panties with multiple sets of frills, hose and garterbelts, and long gloves that extended to her elbows. She had even crowned herself in a gothic headdress with a non-veiled style.

“What? WHA...”

“I went on a printing spree. To put it in a fisher’s language... well, if we need deck dresses, we also need bed dresses.”

She twisted her hips right and left, then spun with stretched arms to emphasize her body lines before asking Terra’s opinion. Terra turned red and waved her hands.

“It’s a bit, um, provocative, er, I mean–”

“You don’t like it?”

“It looks great, but it shows so much I could die!”

“Haven’t you seen everything already, though?”

“But we were in the shower then...!”

Diode cut the main lights and approached Terra, lit only by the dim footlight. “You should be fine now that you can’t see me.”

“Auau...” Diode climbed into the only occupied bed, throwing herself on Terra’s mercy. Embarrassed, she asked, “So... you’re doing just fine?”

“Me? Fine?” Diode snuggled closer to Terra under the blanket before asking, “I was worried as hell, and my heart also feels like it's about to burst, but do I seem fine to you?”

“You seem a lot more put together than I am...”

“Is there anything that’s making you freak out?”

“Not really, but if I had to say, I guess there is something bothering me.”

“That being?”

“Doing, um... doing that sort of thing with you makes me happy, and it also feels good.”

“If it makes you happy and feels good, then what’s the problem?”

“The problem...? I mean, look... at us.”

“Do you know what I was worried about?”

“...That I’d say I didn’t want to do it, right?”

“No, you telling me you didn’t want to do it wouldn’t have been a big deal. If that was the case, all I had to do was stop.” Diode replied, shaking her head. Her breath hitched for a moment before continuing. “What scared me was the idea you would say something like, ‘what we’re doing is, you know, against common sense after all.’”

“...”

“Do you get me?”

“Yes.” Terra immediately felt like she was about to cry. She hugged Diode’s thin torso tightly. “I’m sorry, but I’d never  tell you that.”

Diode, who had been breathing unevenly with anxiety, relaxed and let out all the air that seemed to have collected in her chest. “That’s a relief... I’m glad.”

“Mm.”

Diode snuggled up to her. Terra buried her face in Diode’s hair, taking in deep breaths—it had the same scent as the 15 cushions left behind in the attic of her home back at Idaho .

“Ahh, Die-san, I finally...”

“Mm, um...”

“Die-san.” Just pulling the girl who lay next to her close wasn’t enough. She firmly lifted Diode over her body.

“Uh...”

Diode squirmed in confusion, but Terra let the girl’s weight settle on her chest before sighing in relief.

“I finally caught you.”

“...You caught me plenty of times today, though.”

“It’s a matter of sentiment," Terra said with a smile, cupping Diode’s face in her hands. “I didn’t have the time to savor it.”

“Well, you certainly weren’t taking it slow a moment ago. You were giving it everything you had.”

“Uh, yeah,” Terra replied, averting her eyes. “Before... that was, you know...”

“And is now any different?”

She couldn’t decide whether to respond to the girl’s faint, flirty smile, to dodge it, or to segue into the mountain of things they had put off for later.

“Is it okay if we leave this for tomorrow? My battery for today is...” Terra said in an admission of defeat. She was already tumbling into the depths of slumber the moment she laid her head back.

2

“Goooood morning, Terra-san and Die-san! It’s already ten, that’s pretty late, huh?! I won’t come in, but pleeeaaase get up! You have a lot of things  to do!”

“Alright, we get it, give us 15 minutes please!”

“Bwah?!” Terra woke up hugging her pillow, caught between Pri’s shouting and banging on the door and the reply shouted back at her. The unfamiliar ceiling was lit with daytime lighting.

“Good morning, Terra-san,” Diode said, appearing at her side.

For a brief moment, Terra was dumbstruck. She’d never thought much of it when she was the one who gave wake-up greetings, but this was the first time one was directed at her, and in her own room no less—not just that, Diode was already fully dressed. Her outfit was an olive jacket over a perfectly fit, partially airtight work suit, a pencil skirt, tights, and a marine-style beret atop her silver hair. It wasn’t a gorgeous deck dress, but it was still a shapely, functional look that would pass as an operations worker in any port.

Terra, on the other hand, was only dressed in a blanket.

“G-good morning... You got ready quick.”

“Good morning, Terra-san. You were sound asleep, huh?” Diode flashed her a satisfied smile and gestured towards the shower room. “Now, please get dressed. I left the clothing pattern on the printer for you, so if you don’t mind, you can use it too.”

“Would you mind turning around?”

“Not a problem, you’ve already shown me plenty.”

Diode maintained her unbothered expression and turned her back to Terra, who then rolled the blanket into a ball and threw it at her before scrambling to the shower room.

Fifteen minutes wasn’t nearly enough to get ready, but she somehow managed it with the shower in speed mode and using the settings Diode left on the printer. When she got out, the girl was waiting, ready to check her from the bottom up like a couturier.

“Could you stand over there? Turn sideways, now face forward. Okay, all good. I made sure the sleeves, collar, and hemlines would look adorable.”

“Having fun?”

“Sure am. I finally got to mess with you in the morning.”

Diode whirled around Terra. They had never seen one another at this time of day before. Terra huffed, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Even though she wanted to spend the next forty minutes leisurely, she had forty seconds to prepare herself before going out to the corridor. Pri was waiting for them there, nearly out of patience.

“Okay, look, you’re 80 minutes late. Please  pay attention to your notifications.”

“I didn’t get any.”

“Me either.”

“Seriously? Oh, that was the Gendō's doing.”

Minicells for Gendō women had extremely restricted functionality, but once Pri realized the issue, she set something on her own minicell and tapped the back of her hand against the pair’s own hands. The pleasant chime of a restriction being lifted played.

“Should be all good now.”

“That means the restrictions are gone, right?”

“Oh, mine was restricted too...?” Although Diode was cheerful, Terra stood beside her, tilting her head a little.

“Let’s get on with it!” Pri called, and started walking off in a hurry.

“Diode-san, you’ll be coming to the Safety Assurance Department. They’d like to hear all you know about what a core Gendō clan member is up to. And you, Terra-san, could you report to the Fishing Center?”

“Huh, we’re splitting up?”

“That’s right, but you can meet up again in the evening. Though, if you two had gotten up earlier, you could have finished before afternoon tea instead!”

Although Pri pointed out every little thing, the two kept looking at one another instead. When she turned around to see the two lagging behind her, Pri smiled.

“Ahh, are you anxious? You two can leave your minicells connected with each other, then.”

“Right...”

“You still don’t feel like trusting us? Hmm, about that...”

There was a lot to be uncertain about; their situation was too fluid. After brooding on it for a little bit, Terra spoke up.

“You Trades are all about business deals, right. If we cooperate with you and work here, then are we going to make money?”

“Hm? Err... Well, you’ll be paid for the things you do, yeah. Though I’m certain you’ll rack up far more expenses than profit.”

Pri gave a vague answer, but Terra nodded.

“While we stay here and use the amenities you have on offer, we’ll be taking on debt, right? I understand that, and what’s important is that we have a record of that exchange.”

“Records?”

“Mhm. Lending and renting create records, right? So, shouldn’t that be done for every transaction from now on? If each one has a record attached, then I can really trust you.”

“Haha! I get it, so that’s  what you mean.”

Pri nodded, interested, and waved one hand. The moment she did, Terra and Diode had the same number appear on their minicells.

“So long as this number exists, we’ve got good reason to take great care of you. Nice thinking, I approve!”

“Y-yeah...”

Terra knew why the negative number was huge, but the sight of it still made her face stiffen.

“Terra-san...” Although Diode stood beside Terra while she made that decision unilaterally, her voice sounded doubtful. “Are you really going along with that without a second thought? I think they could falsify the value as much as they want if they feel like it later.”

“ That's  the part you have a problem with? We were rolling around as helplessly as an orca haul all last night, so I think if they wanted to attack us, they would have already done it a long time ago. Which they haven’t, right?”

“I mean, I guess.”

“Anyway, unless we can find someone else to depend on, we’re not able to do a thing. So, for now, wouldn’t you agree we should start by making allies?”

“Well, yeah, but...”

“Die-san...” Terra brought her face close to Diode’s and nodded. “I know. We can talk about that part later, okay?”

Diode’s eyes widened slightly, then gave Terra an okay and a nod. Pri, walking a few steps ahead, stopped where the corridor split and turned around.

“You get everything sorted? Then Diode-san, you’ll be coming with me, and Terra-san, you’ll be going over there. Make sure to follow the directions on your minicell.”

“Sure.” “Later then.”

They raised their hands and went their separate ways, keeping their backs to one another until they reached a corner. They each noticed the other looking back at them and smiled.

She wasn’t tossed in a cell and kept under the watch of an alert man, nor was she dragged into a cold interrogation room and boxed in with metallic walls—much to Diode’s surprise, her interrogation was actually taking place in a sidewalk café. After reaching a roadside in the middle of a stall market district styled after a trading post, where Trades’ commonfolk freely came and went, she shook hands with the man who headed the Safety Assurance Department and a woman who was an investigator. After the two introduced themselves as Stanley and Saucer respectively, Diode sat down across the table from them with Pri.

“Diode-san, we may have summoned you here, but as you are only a citizen rescued from an accidental pillar boat explosion, we have no authority to forcibly detain you. In addition, as you are still considered a member of the Gendō clan, you have the right to refuse divulging any information which may disadvantage your own clan. Is this acceptable to you?”

“Am I really  allowed to flee into the streets or keep silent from now until six?”

“If that is what you really choose, then yes, there is nothing we would do; however, we would prefer you did not if at all possible. We would appreciate your describing any details you feel you may share after becoming familiarized with our investigation,” Stanley said with a wry smile.

Diode hesitated. Although she blatantly received the harsh treatment last time she was here, this time they were noticeably obliging and upfront. She wondered if they were trying to win her over, and in that case, she couldn’t drop her guard.

“...There are a few things I’d like to know first. Is that okay, Pri-san?”

Diode looked to her side, and the inspector nodded towards the man opposite them.

“I can’t talk, but he can.”

“Then, please tell me what you know. I’ll talk after.”

“All right. What would you like to know about?”

“Pretty much everything, but first...” Diode tried to force things along. “How dangerous is Chief Nurude’s plan to use the decompers?”

The investigator loudly jolted her chair in surprise, and Diode was just as startled by the noise.

The man, concealing his emotions, said, “Of course, how much do you happen to already know about it?”

With his upfront response, Diode began to consider that maybe they really weren’t hiding anything from her.

“I don’t know anything of significance. And on that note, I’m only now  finding out that was what you’re investigating. Sorry, that was a fluke.”

“I see...”

“Pri-san mentioned yesterday that we were brought here to protect Terra-san from a kidnapping, and I also remembered that the Clan Chief is very interested in her. Since his daughter’s a freak, I thought he might be one too.”

“A freak? What kind of freak?”

“Sorry, please ignore that, it’s not relevant.”

The two gave Diode puzzled looks. Diode gave them a small wave of the hand and continued her line of questioning.

“Him being a freak can’t be it, so, perhaps the decompers have other practical uses beyond fishing, and that’s what he wants to use them for?”

“Correct.” The man leaned forward. “This is an extremely grave matter which does not stop with the Gendō; it places the Circs as a whole at risk. In fact, it’s likely that damage has already been done.”

“...Damage?”

“Yes, damage. However, we still are not certain of what that might be, hence ‘likely’—Saucer.”

After his eyes turned to the investigator, she gently cleared her throat and said, “I’ll explain. Thus far, we have uncovered three suspicious incidents. The first was seventeen months ago, when during the twelfth month of CC 302 the entirety of the Keelung clan base ship experienced communications interference for six minutes. The second occurred during the eighth month of CC 303 at the Itar clan base ship. There were three accidents which involved misused obstruction purging explosives, although these were small-scale. The third occurred during the twelfth month of the same year, this time at the Drone&Dongle clan. Their base ship’s main thruster activation emulator completed four cycles while unstaffed. The cause of the first two incidents remained unknown until the third, when the D&D reopened the other clans’ investigations and identified the causes using their expertise in base ship systems.”

“When the Bow Awow began that month, they reported on the incident. They stated that the incidents fit with evidence of system cracking and unauthorized command access, likely by the Gendō,” Stanley said, taking over the conversation.

The more Diode heard, the wider her eyes grew, “Wait, what you’re saying makes it sound like Nurude is one-sidedly terrorizing the other clans.”

“Is that how it sounds to you?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what it sounds like. So, beyond that, what else is there?”

“It is possible that Clan Chief Nurude is testing a number of things which would allow him to seize control of the other base ships.”

“Seize control–” Diode faltered, a number of questions all springing to mind at once. She sorted through them and put them in order in her head. “Does he have the power to do that? And if he does, is it okay for him to have it? Couldn’t he be arrested?”

“That’s exactly what is difficult about this.” Stanley joined his fingers on the table. “Even if the systems make it possible, the Bow Awow will not stand for it. For that reason, he is indeed subject to punishment if he is successful in obtaining that power; however, it is impossible to obtain through the general-use fleet systems. The Circs do not have a Commodore Helm, with the exception of the period when every system is linked during the Bow Awow. Consequently, an official accusation against him is unable to be made.”

“So, basically—” Diode ground her teeth. “—something which shouldn’t  exist actually does, and for there to be proof of a coup or criminal activity, you need to find the thing that shouldn't exist?”

“You’re a very sharp girl, aren’t you?” Stanley grinned.

Diode fell flat on the table. “This... this is turning out to be a huge bother. I wish I hadn’t found out about it...”

“It very much is  bothersome, but this is not a problem which can be solved by running away—which is especially true for you two.”

“I understand, I was just venting,” she replied, but she didn’t really understand. She straightened up again. “I will put up with it and cooperate, though... So, what you want is to confirm whether that thing really exists?”

“For now, we are calling it the Helm,” Saucer said.

Stanley nodded. “However, the Helm is unrelated to the part that wooden ships which navigated on water had. But the point is, it is a lost tool coveted by Mr. Nurude. It may be a physical device, an intangible piece of software, or maybe a unique terminal, robot, password, codename... it could be anything. Did you happen to see or hear anything during your stay there?”

“A terminal... password?” That tugged on something in the recesses of her memory—meaningful words from several unwilling exchanges with Meika, words she had dismissively ignored as nonsense during her half-month stay in the Typhoon Palace. “Ugh... I might know something.”

“Really?! That being?”

“Sorry, I really don’t remember well, because I just wanted to get out of every conversation as quickly as possible. Since I’m not able to suddenly remember it offhand... could you give me some time? I can send a note if I remember anything.”

“Is that so...” Stanley leaned back, disappointed.

Another question appeared in Diode’s mind. “Now that I think about it, what does decomping have to do with all this, er... Saucer-san?”

She guessed that of the two, Saucer was the one handling the technical details and aimed her question there.

Saucer gave a small nod and replied, “We believe the Helm is operated through decomping.”

“So that’s  why they’re after Terra-san...!” Now that everything was clear to her, Diode let out a long sigh. If everything was true, it would explain why Nurude caused the small incidents and why Terra was his target.

If he wanted to carry out his grand scheme, he was sure to need a great decomper.

Then, the biggest question of all came to mind. “If he’s going that far, then just what  is Nurude aiming to do?”

Stanley calmly shook his head. “That’s exactly what we wanted to hear from you most—what is it that he wishes for?”

Meanwhile, the one Terra had business with rested in liquid helium at -270°C.

“The juvenile nishikigoi? It was brought here, then?”

“Pri said that it was an bonus for rescuing you two.”

It wasn’t possible to see inside the large chamber, a cylinder almost 50 meters in diameter constructed from a considerable amount of precious glass and steel and which preserved things at extremely low temperatures. However, the attached control room displayed the results from various non-destructive internal scanning equipment.

Terra was in the decompression laboratory located at the tip of Table of Johor’s  fourth leg. Following Pri’s directions, Terra headed towards the Fishing Center and through an adjacent research facility. She was now being shown the small nishikigoi she picked up with Diode while fleeing from Fuyō.

“So, why show me?”

“Because it’s your catch, of course!” The male researcher looked up at Terra and nodded for some reason. “None of our fishers have managed to bring in a nishikigoi; really, it’s a tough species. So, I assumed whoever caught it was a Big Deal—and lo and behold, that somebody is a straight-up giant!”

“Ah, uhh, well, if you say so...” As usual, the way Terra was being spoken to left her feeling slightly uncomfortable, but she brushed it off with a vague smile. It would also be more accurate to say she'd picked up the nishikigoi instead of catching it.

“Officially, it's not a legal catch, but you're allowed to sell it for resources. That said, it's only about 2000 tonnes, so you wouldn’t make much money that way. This is only a suggestion, but... how about dissecting it for data?”

Terra was taken aback by the suggestion. “Dissect?” She tilted her head. “Why?”

“To figure out where this besshu’s remarkable electromagnetic and particle radiation resistance comes from. You saw it too, didn’t you? The way it easily swims up through a plasma shower so intense enough to produce an aurora that fills the whole sky.”

“Yeah, yeah! I did, it was incredible! It started to accelerate, rise, and then... BAM! We get sent flying off! All in one go! And meanwhile the plasma shower was intense enough to burn our hull to a crisp!’

“You got sent flying off?”

“Yes! Ah, I mean, sometimes we did, sometimes we didn’t.” Okay, I’m not lying.  “Anyway, it’s an impressive besshu. But investigating the secret of its resistance...?” She remembered her conversation while fishing with Diode and shrugged. “That’s impossible, isn’t it? I heard nobody’s been able to figure it out before now because their insides melt right after death.”

“Indeed. Erm, Intercontinental-san, was it?” The researcher gave her a knowing smile and began fiddling with the scanner screen. “My clan has never caught a nishikigoi, but we have heard about its pace, er, by pace I don’t mean movement, but of decomposition. So, the moment we received a message from Pri informing us of her escape from Fuyō , we were already giving her instructions. She was to keep the besshu as cold as possible while bringing it back. Thankfully, the Insolvent  is a helium extractor, so there was no lack of coolant.”

“Ah, so what you’re saying is this little one has been refrigerated since then?”

“That’s right, and here’s the result!” The researcher ostentatiously displayed a cross-sectional view of the besshu. “These are the ultrasound images and x-rays, look over here!”

He was pointing to the besshu’s tip, but Terra couldn’t tell what anything was.

“Looks like some sort of twisty shape... could it be an organ? Or brain tissue?”

“No idea!” Not even the researcher knew. “But even just one thing we don’t understand might turn a profit. As far as common besshu like sweet mackerel and trout go, they’re recognizable anywhere, no matter whether they’re frozen, rotten, or the imaging is bad. But this twisting organ in the nishikigoi isn’t common knowledge, and that might be key to its impenetrable secrets!”

“Woah... Then we’ll figure it out if we dissect it?”

“That’s right! This frozen sample is very valuable, since it’s the first one ever caught by any Circ. So, obviously, I hope you approve its dissection!”

“That’s fascinating!” Terra’s eyes twinkled and she leaned forward, but then made a stopping gesture. “Wait. I didn’t catch it alone, so I can’t make a decision without talking to my partner first.”

“Ah, your twister, right? I’m not opposed to your discussing it with him, but please make a decision as quickly as possible. Preferably today. Or better yet, right now!”

“Now’s a little complicated, she’s in the middle of something else at the moment.”

“She?” The researcher eyed Terra once again and raised his voice. “Oh, I had forgotten that you pair with another girl to fish. Do you turn a profit?”

“What?”

“Actually, you ranked third place with your hauls this quarter, so that was a pointless question to ask,” he said, slapping his forehead as if he’d only just remembered. “If she can make that much money, it’s only natural you’d pair up.”

“That’s not why...”

“Hm? Ah, you’re the one who makes the money? Why not pair up with someone you like, then?”

“I am  paired with someone I like, though...?”

“That so? I see, so it’s a hobby for you, and you just happen to get good results. Hahaha, seems like you have a tough future ahead.”

Terra didn’t quite understand what he meant at first, but it turned out that he didn’t think she and Diode were a proper pair, after all. The situation would probably take a turn for the worse if she tried to push back against someone like him, and not really wanting trouble, she let it slide with a vague smile.

“Guess so, huh.”

The awkward silence was blasted away by the researcher’s booming voice. “That’s right! Now, regarding the analysis, it won’t be free. All of the data we collect will be turned into an offer.”

“Data...?” Terra asked in disappointment.

“Don’t make that face. Like I said, data has value. If published, it can be turned into an accomplishment or money, and you’d also certainly find a use for it.”

“Find a use how?”

“Fishing, of course! If we discover the secret of the nishikigoi’s power, then you might improve your catch next time you go out fishing, yes?”

“How would that improve our catch?”

“Well, that’s your job to figure out.”

“Ah, is that right...”

Terra was disappointed, but as she thought about it, she realized he was right. Coming up with the fishing plan and changing the pillar boat’s shape was the decomper’s job—the problem was that it was unlikely they’d ever have another chance to fish, and even if they did, they would turn it down.

...or maybe we wouldn’t? Would we really  refuse?  Terra remained deep in thought but eventually sent a minicell message to her partner.

“By the way, Intercontinental-san, there’s more I’d like to hear about, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, sure. What kind of thing?”

“Fishing, of course, your nishikigoi fishing know-how! Tell me everything, in detail, because that’ll turn into money if there’s any new information!”

“It all comes back to money, huh...?” Even though Terra forced a smile, it didn’t feel bad to talk about her experiences.

3

As the artificial lighting dimmed to orange, a chorus of voices hawking their goods filled the air as they tried to entice all kinds of men and women from the busy crowd.

The evening liveliness at Table of Johor  was unlike anything Terra had ever experienced, but it felt isolating, as if she was sitting with a different family. Unlike at Idaho  or Fuyō , she had no friends or enemies here, with one notable exception. She could wander off without anyone giving her an earful about it, but on the other hand, no one would care enough to come looking for her, either.

The feeling was pleasant; a breath of fresh, clean air. The feeling was unsettling; floating without a tether in outer space. Walking among strangers immersed Terra that odd sensation.

“Te—Terra-sa—Over he—!”

Terra heard fragmented shouting from behind and turned around. A figure in a green beret waved an arm as they bounced around in the stream of people flowing left to right.

The moment she laid eyes on that person, Terra found her bearings. She shoved past two or three people as she rushed over to Diode, apologizing as she went.

Diode desperately clung to a round table in a corner of the crowded beer garden. The way she glared at her surroundings reminded Terra of a small animal guarding its territory. The location had been suggested to them by one of the clan’s tourism AIs and it perfectly fit Terra’s request for a welcoming spot to meet up and dine together. Her errands dragged on though, and worse, she had gotten lost and ended up being late. Which is to say, she was unsurprised by the narrow blue eyes scowling at her as she got closer.

“You finally  made it. Don’t ever walk past me when I’m right in front of you again. I even kept calling your minicell.”

“Ahaha... sorry, there were a lot of people.”

“When else are you supposed to put that size of yours to use? I’m a speck, so you’d better put more effort into finding me,” Diode huffed, then turned away.

Hm...?  Terra took a closer look at her. She wouldn’t describe Diode as the friendliest person to begin with, but her language felt more barbed than usual. On closer inspection, Terra noticed a faint blush on her cheeks, normally so pale they seemed transparent.

She took a chair from the opposite side of the table and dragged it over to Diode’s side before she sat down.

“Feeling lonely, by any chance?”

Diode scowled so deeply that her brows had two furrows, then looked away again. Terra steeled herself and leaned against her.

“I know I was~!”

“Sto—you’re crushing me! Knock it off and let’s eat already!”

“‘Kay!” Terra gave her a big nod.

Diode wasn’t great with places like these, so as usual, Terra put in orders for both of them. Once it was all printed, portioned out, and toasted to, Terra felt her beer-like relaxing the tension she had worked up.

She took big gulps, then exhaled with, “...Phew!”

“Are you tired?”

“Nope, I’m good.” She nudged Diode on the elbow. “I was just thinking about us getting to see each other normally like this again.”

“...Yeah.” Diode gently returned the nudge. “I’m glad.”

Growing more cheerful, Terra made breezy conversation as she snacked on jerky-like and fried shrimp-like. “How did it go today, Die-san? I know you said there weren’t any issues, but they didn’t twist your arm into doing something annoying or anything, did they?”

“Not really. Considering Circs are automatically rude by default, I was treated pretty well.”

“Automatically rude...?”

“I meant that as a positive. They treated me so well in spite of that I could hardly believe it.”

“Ah, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Anyway, how was your day? Did you get told off for arriving late?”

“Not at all! The opposite, really—the researcher wanted to hear all my stories and asked me questions, so I spent the whooole time talking about nishikigoi fishing!! The Trades haven’t ever caught one before, so he said even if it was on the small side, it was an achievement on our part—ah, I mean the 1800 tonne catch we picked up, they brought it back with us—and they were thrilled since it was their first time seeing the real thing!”

“You said we were picking it up to give back to Meika, though.”

“Guh... I did, but it’s not like we can  at this point... Ah, right, the dissection. Were you okay with it?”

“Dissection? Oh, I received your message about that, right. I don’t mind.”

“Got it, I’ll give them the OK, then. We’ll get updates if they happen to discover something. I really hope they do, it would be nice to use that knowledge next time.”

“Next time...? You mean next time we go nishikigoi fishing? Um...” Diode tilted her head, put her cup of ginger ale aside, and tapped Terra’s wrist. “Excuse me.”

“Yeah?”

“Give me that please.”

“Huh?”

Terra put her mostly empty beer mug on the table. Diode snatched it and chugged it one go, then started coughing.

Diode, naturally, had choked, so Terra nervously rubbed her back, “D-Die-san?! What’s wrong?!”

“I’m fine... I just felt the mood to drink a little,” she replied, raising her hands to swat Terra away. “I finally understood why  they suddenly pushed us to go nishikigoi fishing back at Fuyō .”

“...? What do you mean, ‘finally’? It was a contest, wasn’t it?”

“Partly, but they were also sizing you up.”

“Sizing me up?”

“Your ability to decomp. They wanted to see what you are able to achieve when you decompress at full power.”

“...” The mood, up until then buoyant, suddenly grew heavy and capsized. Giving Diode a serious look, Terra asked, “What’s this about?”

That was when Terra finally learned about the menacing scheme the Gendō clan was putting into action.

“This Commodore Helm... it’s operated through decomping?”

“It’s something that Nurude can use to control every Circ ship at his discretion. Makes you think, ‘wooooow that sounds really fun, I wonder what he’ll do with that!’, doesn't it?”

“Why would I think that?” It was Terra’s turn to frown. “That doesn’t really... sound like any fun at all to me.”

“That’s because it’s not, and it makes me so sick I could puke on the ceiling,” Diode replied, before looking around the table and apologizing. Terra waved her hand to say it was fine.

“He wouldn’t be looking for something that gave him that kind of control if he had good intentions, right?” After asking, Terra looked off into space, then corrected herself. “Or I should say, he’s following the script of a person who’s totally convinced they’re acting for the greater good.”

“There’s a script like that?”

“The villains in B-type action Contents are dead set on following it.”

“Heh...” Diode scowled at the splash of beer remaining. “That’s gotta be it then, sure,” she said, then tipped the mug back. “That generally fits with the details of my kidnapping, the overall mood back there, and the things I heard. And of course  the Gendō are ready to treat the Bow Awow as an adversarial organization. They’re working on something terrible and making enemies out of everyone. Why...?”

“Die-san...”

It’s a shame your hometown turned out this way —but before Terra could voice that thought, Diode started shouting.

“We were so  close to putting all our damn worries behind us, and right at this crucial moment that freaking arrogant, clingy, freak shit soggy-ass bitch’s  family had to ambush us and drag us both into a goddamn supermassive black hole of trouble!”

Everything in a ten-meter radius, friendly chat and heated arguments alike, fell completely silent.

“Die-san, calm down please... Sorry everyone, it’s nothing, sorry!” As she apologized to the surroundings, she gently swapped out the mug in Diode’s hands for the ginger ale. “Here, have another mug! Drink up and forget all about it!”

Diode drank it in one gulp, and her long eyelashes fluttered as she blinked. Looking at Terra, she asked, “Was I too loud just now?”

“Not really, but did you have any more leads?”

Diode thought for a bit and her speech returned to normal. “Uhh... Right, so Pri-san and the others are trying to put a stop to it.”

“Ah, come to think of it...” Terra said, suddenly remembering something. “Does that mean your father is helping her, since she was meeting with him?”

“Yeah, seems like it, but they didn’t tell me anything beyond that. He’s currently an active spy, so...”

“It’s still a relief knowing that, though. It means he’s not going along with the Gendō scheme.”

“Is it? Because it means my narrow-minded father might be treated like a traitor and get arrested.”

“Sorryyyy!”

“It’s not that  big of a deal if he gets caught. It is him  we’re talking about, so I’m sure he’ll find an escape in pretty short order.” Diode paused for a moment. “It sucks to be at the mercy of Meika and her cronies. More importantly though, the situation over there being like that complicated your life too, huh...”

“What?”

“You ended up leaving the escape ship behind, remember?”

“Ah... right.”

They remained quiet after Terra’s weak response. She seemed to be avoiding Diode’s eyes.

Diode stared at her profile, munching on snacks, then out of nowhere said, “Why don’t we break up?”

“Wh-where is that  coming from?!”

“Well, it’s because you’re acting like you want to live here.”

“And why’s that a reason to break up?”

Diode, mindful of their surroundings, lowered her voice and bluntly said their plans seemed to be different. “If you’re going to make me say it, your wanting to live here has been my biggest worry since Pri-san rescued us. I’ve been scared ever since she said we could. Haven’t you been thinking that even though you didn’t fit in with the Endeavour or Gendō clans, it might not be so bad here?”

“I...”

“You weren’t?”

Terra looked down and gave Diode a small nod. “I was... just a little.”

“Why?”

“Why...? Because we can fish together here. Pri-san told us we could go fishing as two women, didn’t she?”

“She did, and that was the bare minimum she could offer us. But, Terra-san–” Diode stacked the clean plates on a corner of the table and placed another order at random. “You said you wanted to go to the GI, didn’t you? That you looked forward to seeing all the new creatures, landscapes, jobs and food there, right?”

The table printer began to make noise and printed something that looked like meatball-likes made with something unrecognizable.

“And instead of that, this  is what you want?” She yanked the half-finished plate of meatball-likes out of the printer and shoved it in front of Terra. “Are these meat-like ball-likes good enough to want to live at a dreamless, hopeless place like Fat Beach Ball while the jagoffs on the Council of Elders cling to their positions? Are they, Terra-san?! ”

“Wait, Die-san, please listen, I only said that living here is maybe  not so bad, not that I wanted to live here no matter what!”

Terra tried desperately to calm her down, but Diode already haphazardly ordering her next drink. She then turned Terra and stared her down.

“What made you consider even for a second that it might not be so bad here? Letting us fish together was all she had to offer. Did she guarantee anything beyond that? What are you going to do if they say that we’re required to attend marriage hunting parties from now on if we want to work the boat together?”

“Marr—We could do everything in our power to refuse–”

“That’s not  how it works,” Diode said, firmly squeezing down on Terra’s wrist. “That’s not how it works. You do  understand that, don’t you? That’s not the type of thing they just let slide if only you would ask them to look the other way. I don’t wanna be having this conversation with you, this... argh, screw this!”

Diode let go of Terra faster than Terra could catch her hand. At a glance, the transparent, amber liquid she had just finished printing seemed to be the kind that shouldn’t be downed in one gulp. Diode grabbed the glass and brought it to her grimacing lips.

“Die-san!” Without waiting, Terra snatched the glass before Diode could get the liquid in her mouth.

Still, she was too late. The unpleasant liquid spilled onto Diode’s chest, drenching her stylish jacket. The air filled with the smell of alcohol.

“Um, I’m sorry, I’ll get you cleaned up right away.” Terra hurriedly wiped the liquid away with a sponge and punched a command into the printer for another.

“That’s enough—I’m done here.” Diode said, swinging one arm. “I’m going back to our room.”

“But that’s...! Wait, please let me make it up to you. If I’m in the wrong, I’ll reflect on it, but just what are you so angry abo–”

“It’s already soaked into my skirt.” Diode stood and stared at Terra with a hollow expression.

Terra quickly realized what was happening and firmly caught her companion’s wrist. “Don’t go.”

“Hey...”

“No! You’ll disappear if I let go.”

“...”

“You’re thinking about running off somewhere like a back alley or storehouse. I can tell. You’re not  doing that. We’re not at Idaho . We might—never mind, don’t move!”

We might never see each other again if we get separated —The thought was so scary Terra couldn’t bring herself to voice it, but she spoke forcefully, hammering the printer service button until enough sponges to leave the surrounding tables sparkling clean came pouring out. Diode was held in place as Terra scrubbed her down with the pile of white sponges.

“We can dry it off since it’s just clothes, and if it still bothers you, you can just take it off and throw it away. It won’t kill you if you’re still a bit sticky.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Please, I’m begging you...!” Terra bowed her head and held Diode tight with both hands.

At first, Diode stood there, extremely annoyed with soft, sticky fabric clinging to her, but suddenly noticed that no one in their surroundings was paying them any attention. She let out a huge sigh and started to squirm.

“Terra-san, um, let go.”

“No, please!”

“Listen to me. I’ll sit down.”

Terra looked up at her. Diode coldly brushed her away and took a seat.

Looking off to the side, she said, “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“What? Oh, okay...”

“I haven’t told you everything yet, now that I’ve thought about it more calmly. I’m sorry I lost my cool before I did—but can I just ask one thing?”

“Yeah... you can.” If anything, Terra thought she was the one who overreacted. She gave Diode a nod, disoriented by how quickly the girl had calmed down.

Diode looked up, then away, as if she were looking for the right words to say. “Did you forget that I wanted to pilot at another planet in the first place?”

“Huh? Ahh! That?”

Diode hadn’t expected Terra to be as surprised as she was, so she responded with surprise of her own.

“‘That’?”

“No, I remember, I remember! But, like, we’re still inexperienced nishikigoi fishers, right? That made me realize there are still things we don’t know about the skies of FBB, and it started feeling like we were at a whole new planet...”

“It might feel like that to you, but it doesn’t really feel like that to me.”

“Y-you don’t say.”

Now that she mentioned it, she did say she could fly with an error margin of less than a meter.   All I did was wilt back and blame myself.

“That’s right... You are  always looking to the future, looking at what’s to come and making moves towards your next goal. I was the only one who felt like we had run into a wall and stopped looking ahead.” Terra suddenly felt her cheeks warming as she spoke. “But since I assumed you felt the same way, I ended up wanting to settle for this... How embarrassing... wow...”

“Well, that’s inevitable once you get old.”

“Old?! Who are you calling old?!”

“You said it yourself.”

“...!!! I only said I was older  though!!”

“Okay, since you’re the older one, hurry up and use the wisdom of age to decide whether we live here or not, and what we should and shouldn’t do about our ship.”

“Come on, meet me in the middle here. That’s the kind of thing we should decide together...”

“If it’s meat you’re after, there’s some right here.” Diode smirked as she slid the half-printed plate of meatball-likes in front of Terra. “Now, about breaking up–”

Just then, a group of men happened to sit down at the adjacent table and cast curious glances at the two. Diode immediately got the sense they were about to get hit on, so she signaled to Terra and stood up. Terra hurried after her.

“...Is running away our only choice?”

“Speaking from experience, it’s the only thing guaranteed to work.”

“We are  two girls, so I guess that might happen no matter the situation.”

“The way it was going back there, there’s no ‘might’ about it—so, what will we do?”

“About...?”

“Now that we’ve confirmed that sort of thing happens here, too.”

Diode stopped at the check-out gate and turned around. Terra fully understood now. Since Diode had experience with getting hit on, she must have developed a sharp sense for when it would happen. Maybe it was part of the burden she was carrying.

“Yeah... let’s go find somewhere we won’t get hit on.””

“Okay.”

“Ah, but how about we go shopping before we head back? And we also didn’t really eat much, so...”

“Okay,” Diode responded with a smile, then held her minicell up to the gate.

4

They wouldn't live here. They would hunt for a home on their own.

Even though that was what they decided on, there was still cruel reality. The next day, they learned their movements were restricted to their lodgings, the town district and fishing center, and a handful of other public venues. The taste of freedom they felt that first day was simply that granted to ordinary citizens, so gates mercilessly snapped shut on them when they tried to leave the designated zones. They were completely locked out of crucial districts like the space port, communication center, power stations, factories, and so on.

“How about we take a little peek, then?”

“Wha, Die-san?!”

By the time Terra understood what she meant, Diode was already doing her own thing again—darting up the arcade’s decorative awning—but when she returned a few hours later, she shared her findings with disappointment.

“I couldn’t find any breaches in the wall or ductwork that I could crawl into. Looks like they already had a sense of what I’d try to do.”

“So that’s  what you were up to...?”

It was likely that they would only be able to access those areas once Pri and the others made progress in their work. Luckily for the two of them, they had one other thing they could do. Once they returned to their lodgings and got changed, Terra pulled out the golden cube she left in the pocket of the duct dress.

“You know, we really should have taken a look at this earlier!”

“What’s that...? Ah, right, the thing you got from my weird, pigheaded father.”

“They’re the documents about the Galactive Interactive your father gave us! We should have waited to look through them before we started arguing, now that I think about it.”

“We’re always getting ahead of ourselves, I guess...”

They set the Stone State Storage on a table that had been dragged to the middle of the room for better visibility. Diode sat down on a bed pushed into a corner and asked Terra if she minded whether she laid down before sprawling out.

“This might be junk, since this is my father we’re talking about.”

“Aw, don’t say that. It might be a treasure map, you know?”

“He’s not the type to share articles about planets with pretty landscapes or stations with delicious cuisines. He’s the kind of guy who will start rambling about elemental concentrations while he has a meal with you.”

“...Well, if it's the planet's elemental concentrations, it could come in handy when we go fishing, I guess.”

It would’ve been an awkward situation to navigate if that’s what he really did, though.

That man, Ozuno-san, what did he say again...?  Terra thought back to their meeting. He said it was a mix of stuff... but I think it was about the Circs’ history and our relationship with the GI? So, I wonder if it’s an interstellar map or trade records or something like that.

The projector booted up and an index appeared. Terra, both hopeful and somewhat anxious, started reading the index out loud. “What? ...Wǎngláiquān Fángjūn Strategic Operation Manual, 8526 AD?”

The documents weren’t interstellar maps or trade records, nor were they VR tours of famous historical landmarks or presentations on hometown delicacies. The document that appeared displayed an ancient-looking crest—a nebula, a grain stalk, and a shield—belonging to the Galactive Interactive Interrupt, and it only took one glance to see that it was an official document with rigid adherence to formal language. For just a short moment, she wondered if there was some kind of mistake. Even just skimming the first page, she understood the document contained something unthinkable.

“Die-san, this is...”

“Yeah.” Diode sat up from the bed and took a careful look at the document. “It’s from Astro Duodenum 8526, the same year the Circs arrived here.”

“Yeah, but... what? This doesn’t have anything to do with us, right?” Terra felt a faint chill, and insisted, “We migrated to this planet 300 years ago. Families and neighbors, 500,000 people in 24 clans, joined together to come here with hopes and dreams of living large in a new land—right?! That’s common knowledge to every one of us, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.” Diode replied with a small nod. Then she shook her head, “Or rather, I should say that was made into  common knowledge.”

“...Was it?”

“Well, duh? If we assume this part is true.” Diode took Terra’s hand and used her long finger to trace the document’s title. “Here, read this.”

“Decompressor Deportation Program.”

“It’s like we’re a people who were banned from the rest of the galaxy, don’t you think?” Diode opened her eyes for dramatic effect and laughed gently, like she found it to be pretty amusing.

The document’s contents were exactly what the title described. A peculiar ability, decompression, has been discovered within the Galactive Interactive. Those persons found to possess this ability, decompressors, are to be collected and expelled from the Interactive. They shall be relocated to a distant planet in spacecraft containing the minimum necessary survival equipment, accompanied by a surveillance unit. Once stationed in a reasonably survivable orbit on-site, the surveillance unit is to withdraw.  A long list of vessels and personnel followed the brief explanation.

Terra murmured through the document, astonished. “Why did your father have this...?”

“You want to know how he obtained the information? Or his reason for giving it to us?”

“Woah, you really are related.”

“We’re not alike at all, I was just joking—we aren’t alike, right...?”

I think the tone you take is.

“Well, no. You really aren’t that  alike. As for how he obtained it... there aren’t that many different ways, are there? It must have been because he’s a Gendō. He might have had access to old records, maybe even top secret ones that only the Great Chief could see. So, the reason he gave it to us...” Terra hadn’t quite gotten that far yet. “...It was to get the information away from Fuyō , wasn’t it?”

“And the reason he didn’t turn it over to Pri-san was...” Diode also looked at the ceiling for a bit, then made a guess of her own. “Because he didn’t want the Trades using it, maybe?”

“No, it’s gotta be because this would be a huge shock to the Trades. Imagine it for a moment. Our ancestors left the GI through their own free will, proud and confident... at least, that’s how it was  supposed  to have been. So wouldn’t the truth that we were actually exiled here bring a huge amount of shame on us?”

“But assuming we are  exiles, it explains why we were sent to a planet that is this  much trouble.”

“Guh...”

“Besides, the title itself already says that people were being expelled if they could decomp, right? Wouldn’t you say it’s consistent, then? I mean, consistent with why we’re the only ones who can export AMC Clay and how we’re able to fish for besshu at FBB.”

“Urgh...!”

“And if it’s true that we were exiled, that wouldn’t just explain why the Dàxúnniǎo  only comes every other year, it also explains why everyone who leaves starts behaving so unnaturally distant. It has to be hard to return or stay in contact after you find out that everyone back home is a prisoner. It all comes together perfectly !”

“Urrrgh... w-when you put it like that...”

Their mysterious past was elegantly and lamentably revealed. Terra groaned, both surprised and disappointed, but had a sudden realization.

“But Die-san, that’s odd.”

“What’s odd?”

“Decomping isn’t a human ability. It’s the besshu that decomp. The phenomenon we call decompression is the besshu borrowing a human’s imagination to change form, and that’s so the Iron Ball can escape from the depths of our planet.”

“...Uhh, that’s what Eda-san told you, right? Anyway, tell me more.”

“Of course! So basically, the besshu were created by Eda-san after we migrated here. My point being, they didn’t exist before that. And yet, the document here says that the Fángjūn was rounding up decompers before the emigration. That’s a contradiction, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“So why is this document lying?”

“Both might be true, don’t you think? As in, Eda-san was a member of the Fángjūn and  had the ability to decomp.”

Caught by surprise, Terra replied, “That... would be a little...”

“Am I wrong? We’ve talked about this before. How should I put it... it took Eda and Magiri leading a rebellion and becoming Great Chiefs to fix our society because the people in charge of the fleet early on were totally useless.” Diode gave Terra a small shrug. “If we assume one of them was a member of the surveillance unit mentioned in the document, it makes perfect sense, right? It even explains why the rebellion was so successful.”

“I see...”

The Galactive Interactive could be described as a galactic republic, and the Wǎngláiquān Fángjūn, or the Galactive Interactive Interrupt as it was known in various languages, was the space force that operated for the sake of maintaining its safety. The GI’s military barely interacted with their livelihoods, but even Terra and Diode knew at least what it was called.

Terra wondered if Professor Lucid was really a member of the Wǎngláiquān Fángjūn. She searched through the document’s list of targeted individuals, and while Magiri turned up, Eda didn’t. Terra tried to imagine her in a dark-toned military uniform and thought the look suited her.

She looked down at the girl by her side, impressed. “That’s gotta be it. You’re amazing, Die-san!”

“Well, we have nothing but indirect evidence, though,” Diode replied bluntly, crossing her arms. “Still, the fact that decomping was purged from the Interactive because the Circs were run out like pests is humiliating. The reason my father trusted us with these records was that he assumed we were the type of people who wouldn’t care about it—we don’t, right?”

“It... doesn’t matter, yeah. We’re us, and whether our ancestors were good or bad has no bearing on us.”

“But this information would shock everyone who believes our ancestors were marvelously charming, virtuous, noble, and heroic. If this was made public, the anger would be targeted at the inflexible, ancestor-loving Gendō clan.”

“So maybe this could be used to keep the plans for Helm in check where they currently are. I wonder if this has data on how it’s used...” Terra tried to think about it but couldn’t help a bitter smile. “Even if it did, it wasn’t the kind of information we were looking for.”

“Not surprising that it’s off the mark, considering it came from my weirdo father. We needed information, something  about the state of affairs and currency on nearby planetary harbors at the very least...”

“Ah, but! Since your father was secretly holding onto a document this  valuable, we might find the information we were looking for if we look through it properly!”

“Well, yes, it is  possible. But that said...” Diode replied indifferently. She shut off the projector and looked up at Terra. “How about we clarify something? Since we’ve been carelessly dragging it out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Eda.” She stared at Terra. “This so-called Eda-san woman... you’ve actually been in contact with her a few times, haven’t you?”

“What?” Startled, Terra backed away. “W-what makes you think that?”

“Because you trust her way too much. You said that you spoke with her at the bottom of the cloud sea, did you not? If that was the only time, I wasn’t going to say anything because I wanted to give you moral support, I really did. But you outwitted everyone back at Idaho , got your hands on a real escape ship, and made it all the way to Fuyō  by following her advice, didn’t you? That’s not something you can plan with a single meeting, is it.” Diode firmly set her dark blue eyes on Terra and kept pressing without hesitation. “You talked to her a few times. Set me up with her too, I want to talk.”

“...Are you jealous?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Diode’s stare went cold. “When we set out, we’ll be following the advice of that woman. Our lives might be at stake. Besides, she’s not human, right? It’s only natural that I’d want to know just what she is, wouldn’t you think?”

“I... guess so, yeah.”

“Then please, let me talk to her.” Diode forcefully poked at Terra’s minicell.

Terra responded with a wry smile. “Erm, you’re not wrong about that. Eda-san became the escape ship’s AI, so I could talk to her normally on the way from Idaho  to Fuyō —but, since we had to leave the ship behind, I can’t talk to her right now.”

“She became the escape ship’s AI?” Diode frowned. “Why would something from the bottom of the cloud sea do that?”

“It’s a long story. Um, let me think...” Terra could finally talk, starting from the old robot horse in the archives and continuing through her exchanges with Eda after the horse guided her to the escape ship. “I don’t know how she managed to make it all the way to Idaho from the bottom of the cloud sea, but I’m certain she’s inside the Insomnia’s  machinery. There wasn’t any time lag like you’d get with a transmission.”

“Hmm... Then it seems to me that someone, alive , was tailing you and tricked you with a skillfully crafted transmission from another ship somewhere.”

“You think?”

“Yes. Anything  is more realistic than having a near-death experience where you talked to someone at the bottom of the cloud sea.”

“But it really happened! You’ll understand if you talk to her too!”

“So I guess my only option is to find out for myself, huh. It would be great if I could talk to her somehow.”

Terra made an effort to call Eda, but naturally, there was no response. Her small minicell wasn’t capable of direct communication with distant base ships, so it needed to go through a relay satellite. However, that routing was only possible through a base ship’s communication center, which the two couldn’t use at the moment.

“Then we can’t expect any  time for a deeper investigation of the Insomnia  once we get there. I wonder if a smash-and-grab—barging into Fuyō  and immediately running off with the boat—is even doable.”

“You’re being really cautious.”

“I don’t want to fly into outer space inside a scrap heap that’s only marginally better than a shipping container, assuming it is  an escape ship,” Diode said coolly. Then, she rolled onto the bed and looked back at Terra for a moment. “Do you understand me? This isn’t jealousy.”

Terra had the feeling that Diode was doing her best to find fault with everything this evening, but that one look back at her made her feel like she could forgive anything. She pushed the table through the air and put it back into the wall, then followed Diode’s lead by wrapping around her.

“These are turtles from the Anno Domini era.”

“Tuddles.”

“Yep! Pond turtles, sea turtles, tortoises, and gamera. That's their fighting form—EEP!”

“Now I'm your shell.”

“Heheh, I guess you are. And this here's a termite–”

“That? Ew!!”

“Wai—don't slap me!—Okay, okay, I get it, that's an animal you don’t want to see right now.”

“Can’t we save the reference books for later?”

“But you were the one who suggested we take a break, weren’t you?”

“I was, but that's not the kind of break I was talking about.”

“...Hm, you sure know a lot about these ‘kinds of breaks.’ Think fast!”

“Woah?!”

Terra, who was laying on her stomach, forcefully lifted her right shoulder from the bed. It caused Diode, glued to her back, to roll off the side. Diode voiced her displeasure.

“Could you not get so weirdly sulky? Isn’t that just common knowledge...? Or are you still worried about things of the past?”

“Who knows?”

“‘Who knows’...? If that’s all you’re going to say, then I’m  the one who should be worried.”

“About what?”

“Everything. You’ve been to marriage interviews, and you also don’t seem interested in anyone but me.”

Terra had her back to Diode but rolled over and exchanged glances. “Is it bad that I’m not interested in anyone else?”

“Aren’t you asking too much from me, then? I insulted that bitch and ran away from her twice. What more do you want from me?”

They glared at one another—and then couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Yeah, you’re right. I was making a fuss over something small.”

“You were. It’s awesome that you’re not interested in anyone but me.”

“Isn’t this where you’re supposed to apologize for what you said instead...?”

A pair of lips that had kept nitpicking the smallest things interrupted another pair doing the same. Diode clung to Terra’s neck like a turtle shell again, but this time facing Terra. Terra caught her and embraced the warm, thin, narrow-shouldered figure.

She understood where Diode’s worries came from. Terra did say that she didn’t want to get married to a man, but even then, Diode worried she might have a change of heart if the right guy came along. It didn’t strike Terra as anything to worry about anymore, though. Nothing compared to how much she loved the small curves she could fit in one hand, the scents she took in, and the kisses. Until not so long ago, her only desires were to simply be close to Diode and pet her, and she was surprised how smoothly they had deepened to the point of wanting to melt into the girl.

On the other hand, though, that was why she didn’t feel totally confident that just telling Diode everything would be okay could soothe her worries. She hadn’t felt attraction to any other woman so far , but that might be because another woman hadn’t tried wooing her. If it ever happens, how should I react? I mean, am I supposed to respond by telling them I already have a partner? Or that I’m not interested?

“Die-san... this might be a weird thing to ask, but...”

“What is it?”

“If someone else... like us... tries to ask me out, how do I turn her down?”

“Wouldn’t just saying ‘no, sorry’ be enough?”

“Well, yeah, but that wouldn’t let her know that we’re at least like-minded, right?”

Terra was aware that she wouldn’t see others in a relationship like hers walking around in the streets, even if it completely slipped her mind when the two of them were alone.

“Huh? Well, sure, but... you really don’t need to hold back on that account. Just say ‘I already have a partner’ or something.”

“How would you say it?”

“‘Sorry, you’re not my type.’ That way it gets both meanings across.”

“Woah, scary.” It was a sentiment she had often felt but was never able to voice.

The way Diode touched her was joyful; careful and strong, the same feeling Terra got from her handling of the pillar boat. Being treated the same way as the boat wasn't the least bit unpleasant; if anything, getting to experience what she liked seeing Diode do the most through her own body made her happy.

“Um, Terra-san... Nevermind, maybe it’s better if I don’t ask.”

“What was it?”

“There doesn’t seem to be anything that’s been off-limits for you anymore, but are you really  not forcing yourself to do certain things?”

“No, not at all.” Diode touched her everywhere, as she pleased, but it was the same way she operated the attitude control. “It’s fun, and it’s a fresh feeling.”

“...You’re pretty adaptable, huh?”

“It’s also really embarrassing, of course... I had no idea I was able to show you those places.”

“...Oh, is it okay if we try something different, then?”

Strangely enough, she wasn’t scared to be touched by Diode when she had that sparkle in her eye. Being pecked, looked over, squeezed, and lifted by the girl sent all sorts of signals—calming, churning, numbing, throbbing—running through her body. Never once in her twenty-four years had she felt the majority of those sensations. So my body was able to do this? It’s like it’s not even my own body . Over and over, she was happy to be surprised by them.

Terra wondered whether it was because it was her first time, but when she interrogated that thought, she was surprised to discover that wasn’t the reason.

“Die-san, does it feel good for you?”

“Yeah... yeah. It feels good to touch you. When you touch me, when you’re on top of me, it feels so good that it’s like I’m not me any... nnh!”

“I’m glad.”

We both had our complaints while we were looking through the reference books... but we do seem to be pretty compatible.

Good things happened on the fifth day of their stay, and again on the sixth. The seventh day took a turn for the worse.

On day five, they received news that the scientists had figured out the nishikigoi’s mysterious organ. It was comparable to the rete mirabile found in some animals from Earth, but even stranger in its workings. On day six, they were informed the Insomnia  was safe and sound by a spy still working undercover in Fuyō .

On day seven, the entire fleet experienced a power outage. Fifteen of the sixteen base ships simultaneously experienced a sudden blackout that lasted six minutes. Afterwards, they received a message originating from the lone unaffected vessel, Fuyō . It was from Clan Chief Nurude, inviting the Circs to make their return to the Galactive Interactive after 304 years.

Compression

1

The two happened to be in the middle of crossing the shopping district’s main street when it happened.

“Ah! Look, Terra-san, there’s a synthetic aroma store over there.”

“Wha, Die-san?”

Diode swerved when she saw the perfumery across the street. Terra, in her white and orange dress, hurried after the girl in shorts and a blue-black bustier as she disappeared into the crowd.

Suddenly, everything went dark. It was so dark, it would have been easier for Terra to believe something had suddenly covered her eyes. She stood in place, disoriented, but someone bumped into her from the side, which in turn caused her to stagger and bump arms with someone. Just as she started to apologize on reflex, confused and alarmed voices began filling the air. It was a little slow in coming, but Terra also began to feel afraid.

—What’s happening? Is something wrong with my eyes? Did the lights break?   The air leak alarm didn’t go off, but should I act like it was supposed to?

Still, she didn’t know where to find the closest mask storage and shelter sites, and she also wanted to collect Diode before she went—then somewhere in the commotion, a small point of white light from someone’s hand reminded everyone of their minicells’ auxiliary functions. Her surroundings began to light up, so Terra turned hers on too.

Terra waved above the crowd in the direction she thought Diode went.

“Die-saaan!”

A low silhouette scurried out and flung itself around her skirt. Terra was relieved.

“Die-san, are you okay? That startled me, and–”

“I’m fine, but let’s move over there first.”

Terra felt the girl hastily take her hand and, despite her confusion, allowed Diode to lead her to the street’s shoulder. Once they had their backs to a building, Diode finally sighed in relief.

Terra asked, “What’s wrong? You seem like you’re in a hurry.”

“Even the shelter emergency lights are out.”

Once Diode pointed it out, Terra looked up and down the street and noticed the same thing. The green square lights she had gotten used to seeing were gone. It was strange that the signs to the pressurized shelters—first and foremost, the most reliable thing in an emergency—had disappeared.

They could hear loud, upset voices around them. By the sounds of it, someone who was trying to run away from the area had collided with someone who was trying to get their bearings. A growing cloud of anxiety loomed over everyone. The two heard a scream nearby. Nodding to one another, they ran in the direction it came from. The two came across a woman who had collapsed in a flower bed and helped her up. She seemed uninjured, having simply panicked in the dark without her minicell light.

“It’ll be okay. Let’s stick together.”

The row of shops had barricaded their entrances to protect their products, and the two had a feeling it would be rather dangerous to go in the alleys. They had no choice but to hug the building walls while they brought the woman along with them.

“What do you think happened?” Terra asked.

Diode wordlessly scanned their surroundings half a step away from them. When Terra realized the girl was doing it as a show of courage, she silently took over and put her height to work diligently keeping watch.

Bursting with the enthusiasm of traders, Table of Johor  was a base ship named after a small islet on an ancient planet. The two would later find out over 70% of its habitable space had actually been impacted by the blackout.

After a short while, the scenery flashed back into view. It looked like nothing had ever happened to the messy townscape of shops and stalls under the ceiling lights, now that they worked again. People looked at one another in relief before going back to their days. The woman who had been curled up at their feet regained her composure, thanked them, and left.

“Looks like she’s fine now.”

Terra felt relieved herself. That was when her minicell began to ring. Taking the call, she replied, “Hello, Intercontinental speaking. Mhm, she’s with me. We’re both fine—what? At the government office?”

It had been a brief conversation. Terra turned to Diode. “Pri-san has something important to discuss.”

“She has an annoying problem of some sort for us, doesn’t she?”

“We can’t be sure of that ye–”

“Trust me, it can’t be anything good.”

Indeed, it wasn’t.

⠀

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

⠀

Dearest brethren who circle the dense, beautiful clouds of this unconquerable world, we, the Gendō of Fuyō , wish it to be known that the hour of our liberation is at hand.

In the year 8526 Astro Duodenum, five hundred thousand of the persecuted were herded to a single location and expelled to the Galactive Frontier, never to return. These people were provided with a resource-poor gas giant, where it was intended they would live out their days on meager rations. Their life of miserable deprivation stretched on for three years until the prisoners rose up and overthrew their wardens.

Those people were our ancestors. Those people were Circs before we called ourselves Circs.

The distress you are likely feeling is understandable. To think that shackles ever held our ancestors is outlandish. Nay, nonsense. We Gendō felt that same distress. Aghast, we too denied this shameful truth.

However, we ask you to reflect on these feelings. Is our shame the cruel living conditions forced upon us by tyrants? Is it not more shameful for our fear and powerlessness to allow their continued dominance? Our ancestors rose up, and by attaining self-sufficiency, they earned a glorious autonomy. Further, the precious resource they secured, our supply of clay, forces that tyrannical realm to recognize our existence.

That act is honorable, and it is made more honorable still by the truth that it was an ignoble, powerless people clawing their way free of a difficult situation by their own hands. However, can we truly say that act's glory endures for 300 years? That our honor is preserved to this day?

These are difficult questions. Honor is preserved through endless struggle. Under duress, we necessarily became accomplished fishers of besshu on this planet. We have kept our gazes fixed on the planet below—should we not turn our honorable struggle towards the heavens? Can we really say that our desires—a world of our own choosing, fishing for our own sake—are truly fulfilled? So, the time to acquire new worlds is now at hand—a star system for ourselves, by  ourselves.

As I speak to you, a major outbreak of besshu plagues Zugspitze, the nearest star system to us. This is neither speculation nor fabrication; it is classified information we Gendō obtained during the last visit of the Dàxúnniǎo . The troubled people of the Galactive Interactive do not know how to rid themselves of besshu.

However, we  have that knowledge, and that knowledge is our means of liberation. Now, through our own abilities, we are able to return to the lands from which we were long ago banished by our own will. We are capable of securing our true honor if we are capable of reeling in the creatures which run wild. We are capable of securing ourselves a star..

Naturally, excellent fishers are vital. We shall create a vanguard composed of the sixteen finest pairs of fishers among us. We shall identify them through the quarterly ranks, but should these individuals step forward on their own, it would earn them even more radiant acclamation.

We Gendō assume the responsibility of supporting these most essential sixteen pairs. To assuage your doubts— regarding your tasks, your destination, and most importantly, the means of your return to the Galactive Interactive—we stand prepared with helpful answers.

To those who have succinctly understood so far, we ask that you think of the Essential Element of Circs, the People Who Circle the Planet. That is, for things to move forward, momentum is essential. What provides that momentum to us are powerful engines and precise command—a precision made reality by carrying out orders without hesitation.

We believe you have the necessary talent and drive to achieve that momentum.

⠀

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

⠀

“That’s the full declaration we received from Fuyō during the urban district blackout... are you two able to make sense of it?” Pri observed the pair’s faces as she finished playing the recording.

“Not really...” “I hate that I did.” Terra and Diode glanced at one another with a vague smile and frown, respectively.

The Safety Assurance Department, situated inside Johor’s  government offices, was frantic; the two were in the strategy room tucked away deep within. It was the first time Terra, Diode, and Pri had been there; they circled around a data table with the seemingly exhausted Stanley and Saucer.

“Hand over the fleet and obey our orders—that’s what Nurude was telling us.” Diode told Terra.

“What?! When did he say that?”

“At the end. Not that he said it explicitly, but he was  saying it. He’s strong-arming us.”

“Ah, so that’s what he meant? So Clan Chief Nurude intended that blackout just now?”

Terra shifted her gaze to Stanley, the department head, who nodded.

“We—meaning the Safety Assurance Department and the Trades’ Council of Elders—believe that to be the case. The attack was carried out using both legal and illegal electronic data routing techniques. Moreover, Johor  was not the only target. After some urgent dispatches to the other clans, we found that all fifteen of us were attacked simultaneously.”

“The entire fleet had a blackout...?”

“How reckless. Ah... He was putting the Commodore Helm into operation, wasn’t he? So, the secret remote tampering with the undocking equipment, engine simulators, and those types of incidents in the other base ships... were those just test runs?”

“We suspect that is the case, yes.”

While Diode and Terra were surprised, they at least understood the situation. It hadn’t been an inexplicable disaster, but part of a situation they were already trying to stop.

“Nurude said some crazy things—how much of it do you think is true?” Diode asked. The question was met by a grimace from Stanley and Saucer.

“Determining the answer to that is precisely why you were summoned here. His claims—that our ancestors were expelled, of a besshu outbreak in the Zugspitze system, and the formation of a group of sixteen fishing pairs to catch them—sound like nonsense, nothing more. How, then, are we supposed to interpret his statement? Is it allegorical? A coded message? Or perhaps Mr. Nurude himself is addled?”

“Or is it the truth?” Diode said, her eyes staring up as if she was looking through him.

“That’s not possible,” Stanley immediately denied.

Diode then looked to Terra and said, “Show them.”

Terra took out the golden stone storage and handed it over to Saucer. She accepted it suspiciously and played it for the room. Once everyone saw the deportation plan, as hard to believe as it was, they were just as surprised as Terra and Diode had been.

“What even is  this?” Pri said with a half-smile.

“It’s the thing my father, Ozuno Ishidōrō Gendō, gave to us,” Diode explained, emphasizing his full name.

“From Chief Ozuno...? Ah! That  thing!”

“Hold on, there was no mention of your possessing something like this during our interview the other day.” Stanley said with an intense expression.

Diode remained composed, evading his accusation. “He told us the stone was merely a travel guide when he gave it to us. I thought he handed it over to keep it hidden at first, but it seems like it was really so it could be used in case something like this happened. My question is: do you  think this is real?”

There was no need to ask. One glance was all it took to astonish Saucer, the technology expert. She connected the data table to the interclan net and began a document analysis. She swiftly verified that the crest, writing style, historical facts, and name register were all self-consistent.

“The names of the early Trades, knowledge of which should not exist outside this clan, appear on the register. It is almost certainly not a fabrication.”

“Which means Nurude-san’s speech was also the real deal, huh? Hahaha...” Pri laughed emptily. “So, he seriously wants to drag the other fifteen clans back to the Galactive Interactive...”

“More importantly, there is the matter of our history.” Stanley’s expression grew increasingly severe. “The fact that our ancestors were exiles is serious ... The Elders in other clans will not be inclined to accept this at first, but if word gets out that it is  true, it could set a spark to an already volatile situation. It may even give other clans a reason to side with the Gendō.”

“That is worrisome, but another thing also gives me concern,” Saucer said. “Clan Chief Nurude did not mention the blackout in his declaration. Our guess is that he attempted to activate the Helm, but to most, it simply looked like a circumstantial incident or an attack via an unknown vector. And as long as we are unsure of why the blackout occurred, we cannot speculate on the Helm’s operational limits. It may create the impression that the Gendō are an indisputably powerful clan. This situation is extremely  bad.”

“It was also awful clever of him to hide what  they’ll use to return to the GI. It’s currently impossible to return to the GI without a device that can navigate with a Guāngguànhuán Drive... But then, does that mean they have the real thing–”

Saucer interrupted Diode. “There is a legend—every clan has a version—that there was such a device stashed away in the oldest, deepest layers of the expanded base ships.”

The two locked eyes with one another following their exchange.

Stanley spoke gravely, as if giving voice to everyone. “Anyway... This situation, then, is of a scope beyond what the Safety Assurance Department is capable of handling itself. Now that we have reached this point, we are no longer able to resolve this peacefully. Our only option is for official cooperation between all clans to oppose the Gendō.”

“Um, may I ask something?”Everyone looked towards Terra as she shyly raised her hand. “No one brought it up, but what ended up happening with the thing where Nurude-san was gathering decompers?”

“What happened with it? Well, as you just saw, that man has shown he can leave the entire fleet in total darkness, so the Helm is already in motion. Our investigation failed, and he achieved that goal somehow.” Pri shrugged with a wry smile.

“No, he didn’t.” Diode shook her head. “If he really did seize control of the whole fleet, he could’ve just shown us that he was in control. He could have just fired up the engines of all 15 base ships and started us underway, not stopped with a cheap trick like causing blackouts. And yet, he didn’t.”

“Yeah, and instead of that, he just said weird things, right? Like for each clan to present a pair of fishers. He talked about it in a way that made it sound like it was a big opportunity for the best fishers, but isn’t he really trying to get the most promising decompers gathered together?”

“Oh.”

Terra’s question surprised the three Trades.

“So he has yet to gather enough decompers?!”

“That’s right. Nurude still hasn’t seized total control.”

“He’s only managed to partially activate the Helm. So...” Terra nodded. She whispered into Diode’s ear, and with the girl’s approval, finished sharing her thought with the others. “Would it be possible for you to allow us to temporarily work as fishers for the Trades?”

“Please, go on,” Stanley said, interested.

Terra nodded. “Nurude-san is still looking for decompers. Instead of refusing or ignoring him, I think we should send in fakes while pretending to go along with him. They could infiltrate, investigate what’s happening from the inside... then find the Helm and destroy it.”

“I see. However, if we send you two, how do you plan to deal with the fact that you will  be detained along with the boat?”

“That’s where we would like your clan’s help. Is it possible for you to loan us the names and faces of one of your fishing pairs? They won’t be able to ID us, and since we’d be aboard a malleable pillar boat and you can’t see its interior from the outside, we could probably avoid showing our actual faces right up until the very last minute. If we can enter the port, I think we can sneak in with a surprise attack or something. What do you think?!” Terra said enthusiastically.

It was the Trades’ turn to whisper among themselves before replying.

“...It is not a bad idea, but caution will be necessary if we are to go forward with it. We can ask trusted clans for their cooperation with the undercover plan, prepare a backup plan, and if it comes to it, a substitute. Additionally, we will train you to destroy the Helm when you come across it.”

“You’re telling me we have enough time for training?”

“That is the purpose of emergency training.” The smile Stanley made sent a faint chill down their spines.

“But really, you two made a very helpful suggestion,” Pri said, relieved. “But if you want our fishers to go along with this plan, they’re gonna need a detailed explanation of what’s happening first. Meaning, unless they clearly  understand Mr. Nurude to be the scheming type, there’s a chance that they’ll trust his pretty-sounding words and get reeled in.”

Hearing that, Terra mumbled without thinking, “But did he really not say anything we can’t agree with even a little? Like the part about choosing our own star and fishing for our own sake?”

Everyone directed a disturbed gaze towards her, which made her blush.

Bitterly, Diode replied, “Terra-san, those were exactly the pretty words she was talking about. What are you going to do if you get hooked? Get it together! They were threatening us back at Fuyō , remember?”

“R-Right!”

Pri nodded at Diode and watched Terra shrink into herself. “His invitation really is trouble, huh...”

She and Saucer nodded to one another.

Stanley spoke. “Well then, we will move forward with the undercover operation, starting now. Terra-san and Diode-san, if the operation proves successful, we promise to recognize your case.”

“By case, you mean–” Terra was suddenly conscious of the girl beside her and reflexively stiffened. “You mean, us two fishing together?”

“Yes. The standard is that fishing is for married couples only. However, I believe we can make an exception and allow the two of you in particular to fish together even after you are married.”

After more than four seconds frozen solid, Terra smiled and said, “Thank you.” She didn’t need to ask to understand why the girl standing beside her was silent.

“...so that’s how I successfully managed to trick the Trades. I did pretty good, didn’t I?”

The pillar boat followed an elliptical orbit over FBB’s night side. Diode, who had been listening from the cockpit, screamed and looked down.

“...Die-san?”

“...Do I even need to dignify that with an answer?!”

“Woah!”

“They'll allow  us to pair up even after we get married—who the hell asked them?! Why would we want a bunch of guys—guys who are so hopelessly focused on a primal urge to make money that they can’t help but think a woman is a gold-digger if she's out chasing other women instead of men—tell us how, when, and where we can fish WHEN WE COULD JUST GET MARRIED IN THE FIRST PLACE?! AM I WRONG?!”

The girl finished her long rant and turned to the rear pit where Terra, who only understood the last part, was frozen.

“Wha? Ah, ma... marry? You want to marry me...?”

“No, wait, that’s not—hey, listen, can we back up a little?”

“Huh? Oh, okay.”

Diode awkwardly looked away, her shoulders heaving with each breath. She suddenly turned around again and laid into Terra. “You also messed up earlier, Terra-san! Making a face like you were tempted by Nurude’s sales pitch, like you thought it was kinda nice sounding, almost made the Trades stop questioning the truth of it! That was close!”

Ah—she changed topics.  Terra decided to apologize. “Yeah, you’re right! I’m so sorryyy!”

Diode blushed as she looked away again. In the back, Terra was also red as she tried not to smile.

The two wanted to go all-out with their deck dresses since it had been so long since they’d last boarded as a pair. But since they weren’t just fishing, but conducting a special mission, they couldn’t wear anything two ornate or flashy. Both had conceded to functionality, wearing body-hugging pressure suits and securing their long hair under covers, but they remained adamant on decorating them with elaborate color designs. Diode’s suit was colored to look like a planet at night, its dark surface illuminated here and there by orange city lights. Terra’s suit was colored to resemble an ocean world; its matte navy-blue body wreathed in white cirrus clouds. In addition, she sported inconspicuous viridian and dirt-brown metallic accessories that mimicked a mountain pattern on her cheeks, ankles, and the back of her hands. Their outfits were based on rocky planets Terra had never seen in person. In a calmer situation, their appearance would make them want to stare at one another in admiration, but sadly, it was neither the time, place, nor occasion. Terra continued to ruminate on their conversation from the other day.

“But earlier, don’t you think Stanley-san and the others tossed out the possibility of leaving the planet aside without thinking it over much? That’s kind of disappointing, isn’t it?”

“...Now that you mention it, maybe, but I don’t really care. I mean, do you really need to agree with Nurude to leave?”

“Well, I guess not.”

“Our reasons for leaving aren’t why he wants to leave.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” Although Terra finally nodded in agreement and her thinking took one step forward, she took another step back. “But is the Galactive Interactive really such an oppressive place for decompers? Because if it is, our future prospects...”

“Err, near the middle of his speech, Nurude said something about getting the Interactive to recognize us, right? And that’s why he wants us to go as fishers. Assuming that’s true, then wouldn’t that mean the reason why we’re able to go now  is because the situation is different from how it was 300 years ago?”

“But you can’t explain it away like that, because then you’re conveniently ignoring the other things he said.””

“True...” Diode stopped to think for a moment before offering a compromise. “Should we add some questions to press that  guy on into our plans in case we happen to stumble across him?”

“Yeah.” Terra nodded, then added, “...which means we can’t run away until we get this Helm uprising squared away, right?”

“That’s... Yeah, since if the worst happens and Nurude becomes Great Chief, he could come chasing us at full speed.”

“Ugh, that would suck...” Terra quickly shook her head. Suddenly, she was struck with an idea and tried to call her  through the radio. “Hello, Eda-san? Insomnia , do you read me?”

Since the pillar boat had departed Table of Johor  and was on the move, the communication routing was different. However, as she expected, there was no response. “No use, huh? Fuyō  is probably locked down from the inside.”

“Well duh, they picked a fight by threatening to hack the whole fleet. Obviously they’re going to take precautions to prevent getting hacked themselves.”

“Meaning we can only get through if we’re somewhere line-of-sight for radio waves and optical... Die-san, let’s aim for the operations port in Fuyō’s  shadow, if we can.”

“Got it. If we put Nurude in his place, we should be able to head there afterwards.”

Terra ran through the main plan and their personal objectives in her head—infiltrate Fuyō , destroy the Helm in Nurude’s possession, talk to Diode’s father Ozuno again, and finally, steal the Insomnia  back and flee. They couldn’t forget the two control pits they were currently flying in during their escape, either. In order to accomplish that, their pillar boat was heading towards a designated orbit. It had all gotten quite complicated, so she sighed to let off steam.

“Terra-san!” Diode pointed below her. “Look, it’s a spaceship fleet!”

“...Wow!”

Points of light coming in from all directions—from the ahead, from below, from the sides, from an angle—were gathering in one place. No matter where the boats had come from, the times they entered the rendezvous orbit should have brought them here much closer together. And yet, as if they were trying to stay several hundred kilometers apart from each other, it seemed like everyone was arriving one-by-one in order to carefully take up formation.

Their formation was a huge inverted V composed of a dozen or so pillar boats. Behind them loomed FBB’s approaching day side; the sunlight passing through its depths glowed like a sea of burning cotton.

“We look like a flock of migratory birds...”

“Didn’t you say there’s a bird called the migratory bird?”

“Ahaha, there isn’t.”

“What?”

Although Diode tilted her head in confusion as usual, once Terra set a marker for their standby position, she slid the boat into the left side of the formation with extreme ease using just the pinky-sized fine correction jets. Their boat was the 16th in the formation, forming the tip of its left wing.

Just as she finished, the men put in an appearance as multiple transmission windows popped up inside the pit.

“Hey Salinzone, so you came too! You sure came dressed to the nines.” “How’s the wife?” “It’s already been half a year since the Bow Awow, huh? Shame we didn’t have the time to go out drinking back then.”

One of them wore an all-black, old-fashioned coat, another was clad in a radar suit with sensory inputs all over the body, and the last, long-hemmed dancewear with numerous beads and artificial seashells sewn all the way down to the ankle. Names displayed below the images of the men, in deck dress as fine as any in Terra and Diode’s wardrobe, identified them as belonging to the Hebrew, Drone&Dongle, and Keelung clans, respectively.

Diode gently cleared her throat, lowered her voice, and replied, “Yeah, I came too. The wife’s great and she’s as beautiful as ever. Let’s go out for those drinks once we’ve finished up here!”

“ Srnk –”

Terra instantly covered her mouth as the girl shouted “Stop laughing!” without turning around. The shoulders not covered by her tight suit had a faint blush.

Of course, Diode didn’t respond as Diode, Gendō clan, but as a certain Salinzone, Trades clan, whose name she happened to be borrowing. Her voice and appearance were modified by the boating system and transmitted as a man’s image. Her planning hadn’t gotten as far as including conversational details, but it seemed like she’d hit the mark, given the boisterous response she received.

“Ooh, gotta go double to make up for lost time!”

Once the husbands finished their captains’ greetings, several more transmission windows popped up. This time it was the women—in other words, the decompers.

“Hiiii, Açaí! You look well. That bangle looks great!” “So you got the call too. We suddenly got dragged into this... The nanny already had her own obligations, too...” “My youngest started bawling when we were about to leave.” “What about your kids, Açaí? Did they listen to you and understand?”

“Umm...” Terra didn’t know how to answer. She was told Salinzone’s wife, Açaí, was a mother of two, but there hadn’t been a lot of time when she met the couple back on Table of Johor, so they weren’t able to talk much. She had zero knowledge of Açai’s children and her relationships with them. She did her best to imitate Açai’s tone. “S-somehow. He was in a good mood this time, so he didn’t cry.”

The women raised their eyebrows. “He didn’t cry...? Didn’t he already graduate middle school? Does he usually?” “He’s a mama’s boy, she must have pampered him.”

“A-Ah, um... he usually doesn’t, but I mean—”

“My apologies, ladies.” Diode showed no hesitation in interrupting. “Our fishing this time is different from normal, so my wife currently has a lot on her mind. Would you mind giving her some space to focus?”

“Oh my, is that so? See you then!” The women in the transmission windows waved and left.

Diode squinted and quickly glanced back at Terra. “Should I have laughed and enjoyed the spectacle instead?”

“N-No... Thanks for bailing me out...” This time Terra was the one turning red.

While they had that conversation, the other twisters continued to talk among themselves in the cockpit.

“Wouldn’t it have been better if we didn't have to meet like this...?”

“It's the only time we'll get our fuel reimbursed to meeet up, though.”

“For sure. If it was just us getting together, they wouldn’t have sent us out in pillar boats. This is the first time I’ve ever seen sixteen vessels in formation.”

“I’m even more fired up that they got us together to go fishing for such an honorable cause.”

The men were having a lively discussion—but, if they listened carefully, they could probably tell who was faking their enthusiasm and who wasn’t. The ones putting on an act were the fishers from clans that had promised to cooperate with the Trades. Terra, Diode, and six other pairs were working together to stop Nurude’s scheme.

“Die-san, do you think the other nine or so fell for Nurude-san’s plan?”

“Would nine  people be that stupid? I don’t think so. That difference in attitude is probably here because they came to look into it first.”

“Yeah, you’re right...”

Now that Terra had that in mind, the lively conversation started to seem like an obvious act. Still, it wasn’t likely that there was anyone who would suddenly show blatant opposition to the Gendō. At least until the time came, they had to continue acting as friendly as possible.

Just how are  the Gendō planning to treat the pairs they don’t want —As Terra thought about that, a new window opened on the transmission channel. It showed a black-haired, black-clothed, composed young man with a fair complexion.

“I would first like to express our deepest gratitude to all of you who have gathered here. I, Chūya Gennissē Jigō, am the one operating the lead vessel of this formation. While I am young, I am ranked third among Gendō fishers.”

“Jigō-san!” “...he’s Meika-san’s twister, isn’t he?!”

It meant those two were heading up the formation.

In front of the two nervous women and the other fourteen pairs, Chūya continued to speak with a preternatural calmness for a young man. “Under the ordered permission of our Clan Chief Nurude, I am responsible for choosing those suitable for our grand project. It is one of interstellar travel and fishing the besshu of another world, and as such, we cannot allow anyone but the most capable fishers to participate.”

“Hold up. We’re more than capable, we’re Keelung's best! The others here are just as talented. And we’re to be tested by Gendō’s third rank? Those are some interesting manners you have.”

“You have my sincerest apologies if I have offended you. However, would it not make you unworthy of your position atop the ranks of your clan if you are incapable of besting the third rank of ours?”

“What are you trying to...?”

Terra sensed the anger that was abruptly coming to a simmer in the radio communications and gulped. “He’s riling them up. He’s super bold for someone that scrawny.”

“He might have an innocent face, but the man's made of steel. I mean, there’s a reason he works as Meika’s  twister.”

Die-san, is that praise I’m hearing...? —Terra held her tongue on that, but something suddenly came to mind. Meika had yet to say anything herself. Besshu fishing was indeed a male-dominated field, but the host’s decomper should have at least greeted them too. Why wouldn’t she...?

Terra tried to think about it, but the next statement from Chūya rendered the question trivial. “Your opponent is the nishikigoi—you will perform plasma-resistant, vertical fishing in pursuit of besshu that swim upstream in the polar auroras.”

“...Die-san!” Two emotions swelled inside Terra. There was the awful feeling of their first, fruitless effort. Then, rising from the constant, smoldering frustration was the desire to show Chūya and Meika up. The opportunity to do so had arrived unexpectedly soon.

Diode narrowed her eyes and smiled at the excited Terra. “That’s perfect, isn’t it? Let’s go get our revenge.”

The fishers aimed at the magnificent curtain in the sky which seemed to be greeting them, and finally, sixteen trails began streaking its way.

2

“Hahaha, damn! This guy really does go up and doesn’t stop. Y’all keeping up with ‘em?”

“Naturally. But this plasma shower’s something else. It feels like the radiation shielding needs some adjustment.”

“Keep going, I’ll figure something out for you.”

“Low pressure, temperature’s 700°C... the atmosphere here’s pretty interesting... the sensors are burning to a crisp one after another; it’s like I can’t keep any control. What a pain.”

“It’s not ‘interesting’, you’re making mistakes and they’re spiraling out of control. Do you even know  how to deal with control surface damage?”

“Don’t get pissy with me, no one’s getting this far unless they know what they’re doing.”

Ferocious, carnivorous fish dragged red lights in tow as they danced madly in the folds of blue and purple light draped over the polar region. Those extraordinary fish were clever, capable of changing course at will, and channeled enough energy to power a city, but tonight they had to move with a little less grace.

“Our catch is trying to make a break towards the star. Florina— tch .”

“My, it seems another head escapes you. Don’t fault your wife, will you?”

“And just who are you  talking to? My wife’s doing great, so shove off.”

Once again, a vessel lost its prey in the dazzle of the polar night’s unsetting star and needed to start from the beginning, searching the abyss for another target. The environment, besshu, and the boat’s performance itself were all more unforgiving than usual, and it was proving to be tough fishing for the skilled anglers.

Moreover, broadcasting their voices beyond their boats while they fished wasn’t the usual way of things, but the proud, talented people who had gathered couldn’t help but trade pointed barbs with a mix of confidence and bravado. Naturally, their roasting one another created an unusually biting atmosphere.

Inside that atmosphere, Terra and Diode—ignoring their rivals’ competition to improve their catch—simply repeated their ascents and descents.

“Terra-san, I need more power. Can you get that for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Beginning the fourth dive.”

They started to descend from the altocumulus cloud tops towards a target deep in the abyss. They dived beneath the besshu, which was beginning its ascent, then turned in pursuit and approached its ventral side with a scissor manuever. The two were reenacting the traditional approach by imitating Meika’s technique.

“We’re keeping pace... so we’re putting out enough power. We may even have some reserve this time?”

Diode calmly touched the throttle. Behind her, Terra quietly monitored a swarm of VUI panels.

“I guess we do, but we’re still doing the same thing as before. We’ve only put the pieces we need to get started together.”

She expanded two panels. Displayed were detailed images of a tubular body making a vertical ascent. The alien creature’s flight was peculiar, bathing in the oblique light as it rhythmically twisted and turned. Terra felt like she sensed a certain desire, strangely familiar and earnest, from the 65-meter-long, 16,000-tonne body of the besshu as it climbed up an auroral fold.

“The only difference is that I can focus now that we came prepared with the outboard circuit, anti-glare fishfinder, and protective shielding for the combustion chambers, but that’s not enough.”

“Well, we’re doing a hundred times better than those guys, who don’t have any of it.”

Diode quickly peeked down. Twenty kilometers below, she was able to watch a point of light fail its approach during the ascent and helplessly fall away. She didn’t see any humor in it—that had been them last time, and had it not been for Meika’s advice, they wouldn’t have been able to climb out again back then.

She was struck by a sudden thought—how did Meika feel about what Nurude was doing? Both Meika and her father wanted to get their hands on her and Terra, but for different reasons. There was no way Meika, who only craved a specific kind of love, wanted the authority and triumphalism that Nurude did—so, what did she feel as she flew?

As Diode pondered that, she caught something happening out of the corner of her eye. A lone pillar boat, at a much higher altitude than they were at, danced wildly as it pulled alongside a nishikigoi and covered it from the head down with a rotating crossarm. After the successful catch, it followed a low arc back to level flight.

A black flower icon crowned the aircraft on the boating system's navigation display.

“Meika caught–”

“Closer, please!”

Diode felt the sharp voice slap her from behind and refocused on the task at hand. With a mere adjustment of trim, she brought the boat in line with the besshu fifty meters ahead. Now she worked for the sake of a person who was far more important than someone who wasn’t there; she worked for Terra’s  sake. Diode usually made a priority of listening to her piloting instincts, but she had to put them on hold because—

“Ugh, this particle density is super high... How does the besshu survive in this, let alone stay in the air?”

Terra was talking to herself. She wasn’t trying to get Diode’s attention; the topic just bothered her that  much. Diode was currently focused on delicately maneuvering the boat closer to the besshu. In her own control pit, Terra studied twelve VUI panels arrayed in three columns of four. Several of them were sensors that carefully examined their prey—a thermometer, a fluid motion speedometer, and active and passive sensors that used everything from radio up to x-rays. There was also a gravimeter, but this tool served a totally different purpose from the others.

“Even though I know  there’s something going on inside, I just can’t tell what it is...!!!”

The high-altitude atmosphere as they ascended splashed with blue. Terra placed a marker near their prey’s wide-open mouth.

In a quiet voice, Diode shyly spoke up. “That network of blood vessels was for cooling down... was it not?”

“A normal rete mirabile isn’t for cooling down, it's for warming up.” Terra spoke in a low, controlled tone that Diode rarely heard from her. “Even though the environment up here means the besshu needs  to cool itself down, the rete mirabile doesn’t seem like it’s arranged for that! Something’s off, but what’s  off is...!”

As the sound of Terra’s agonizing continued behind her, Diode tried to remember what she’d heard back in Table of Johor’s  decomp lab.

☆☆☆☆☆

“I’d think it’s a rete mirabile, judging from the structure.”

That was the first thing the male researcher had said.

Projected on the laboratory’s data table was a structure composed of an intricate web of thin vessels divided into red and blue colors. Diode thought it was a placenta or something like it at first, but it turned out to be an entirely different organ once the researcher launched into his explanation.

“What we call the rete mirabile is a net of blood vessels found in certain animals. Animals developed circulatory systems as they evolved, with part of a pulse pushing blood to the extremities and another part receiving it from the core. Sometimes those form a tangled network of veins and arteries near their core, which is the aforementioned rete mirable. This net is capable of regulating body temperature by warming up the very cold venous blood before it returns to the heart and cooling down the very warm arterial blood before it reaches the brain.”

“So it’s not a placenta, it’s a kettle...?”

The researcher picked up on Diode’s whisper and nodded. “That’s correct. The rete mirabile is a heat exchanger built from blood vessels.”

“Ahhh, I remember now! Back on Earth during the Anno Domini era. That was something that was inside the marlins, wasn’t it?” Terra asked.

The researcher confirmed her with a nod. “That’s right. Other animals, like sharks, giraffes, and the red gulguiuli  also have it, but maybe it is  closer to a marlin’s in this case. Marlins were fish capable of swimming insanely fast, and it was the net that enabled them to do so. The organ warmed up the blood from the parts in contact with cold ocean water, which allowed it to maintain its muscular functions despite being cold-blooded.”

“A very well-balanced animal, huh?”

“Every living being is. Even the nishikigoi. If we’re being precise, it has two independent circulatory systems, and they only make contact through the rete mirabile. It’s a multi-step heat exchanger, or, well... actually, it just seems  like a heat exchanger...” The researcher, who had spoken smoothly to that point, abruptly faltered. “The truth is, it’s a huge mystery.”

“A mystery?”

“This isn’t really a rete mirabile,” the researcher suddenly said an odd thing. “It’s shaped like one, but there’s no way this organ is  one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Marlins swam in cold ocean waters, but this besshu—this nishikigoi—flies in 700°C skies over a gas giant. There’s no need to warm up its insides, so what use does it have for a heat exchange organ? You wouldn’t happen to have any guesses, would you?”

Terra tilted her head, her interest caught. “What about the other way around, for cooling down?”

“Heat can be produced with fuel, but you can’t produce cold. We’re certain the heat is reaching the body’s core immediately , so a heat exchange organ loses the exchange differential. What else would it exchange?”

“Hmm, you’re right. Just what is this...?”

“Right?! It’s a total mystery!” The researcher rested his elbows on the data table and clutched his head. “It melted right after dissection, so its composition and substructures are also a mystery. I think the structure might be self-destructing... but so it goes with besshu research. We’re always finding mysteries big and small without generating a lead on the biggest mystery of them all.”

“The biggest?”

“How did besshu, which closely resemble Earth animals, appear in a gas giant?!”

“Ah, yeah...”

For better or worse, they weren’t in a situation where they could break their brains thinking about it, so Terra kept her mouth shut and smiled to move along.

“Seriously... out of our hands.”

After a short silence, Diode spoke up from the sidelines. “Still, since the nishikigoi has this organ, doesn’t that at least mean it serves some purpose?”

Like buddies, Terra and the researcher shrugged at the same time and looked down at Diode.

“We’d like that to be the case, but there’s no guarantee it serves a purpose. See, animal morphology isn’t always necessarily best adapted to its habitat, and there are plenty of situations where they manage to make do one way or another by continuing to use and adjust the organs and abilities they, by chance, already had.”

☆☆☆☆☆

As she remembered that exchange from a few days earlier, Diode spoke up. Her voice didn’t make it far from her mouth. “So, this might be pointless after all...”

Just as she said that, the close-up of the besshu’s ventral area began to move. More accurately, Diode had the acute sense that there was a sign—not much more than a feeling —that its posture had changed.

They quickly put the rotating crossarm into action and swung the net over the besshu’s head, even though they knew the odds of it working were slim. Their approach didn’t have the necessary precision—not that they had even once successfully managed it to begin with. And at this point, they were aware covering its head would trigger its next move.

The colossal fish twisted its body. Diode immediately pushed the thrusters on one side of the boat to full throttle and avoided a slap from the half-open fin of the explosively accelerating besshu. Naturally, in exchange for evading it, their own positioning collapsed.

Terra screamed. “Argh! Why do you have to be so... so contrarian !”

“Sorry.”

“No, not you! I wasn’t saying that to you, Die-san! I meant it abou–”

“Our fate rests on this uncooperative thing and the Gendō.”

“Exactly!”

The pillar boat was falling on its back end. Another besshu began to climb with a burst of power, and as Diode watched on, she heard a stubborn voice in her ears.

“Die-san, let’s start the fifth dive!”

“...May I ask you something?” Diode asked after rolling the boat and making surface stability adjustments to slow their descent.

“Sure, what is it?” Terra replied.

“It’s likely that unless we’re in precise, supersonic flight with less than a 90cm margin of error, we won’t be able to catch the nishikigoi. Assuming the traditional Gendō fishing method is the only way to catch it, and that this has no relationship to that mysterious organ, and that we’ve been attempting all the wrong things—then what should we do? Should we switch to the Gendō way of doing this from now on?”

The pit behind her fell quiet. Diode looked down at the sea of clouds below, checked the gauges on the VUI, looked out across the sky, and then looked below again. She found one, two... five potential targets, then started to feel like she was about to suffocate.

She might have pushed too hard. Her partner was putting on a brave face and desperately rising to this impossible challenge, and saying that might have just crushed her motivation. If she was right about that, then her partner was probably behind her, dejected, shrinking back into her giant body, and tearing up—it wouldn’t be remotely close to the first time that happened.

I’ll have to scold her again if that’s the case—and frankly, what a pain—but we’re not getting out of this if I don’t get her motivated again..

Diode steeled herself and took a single deep breath before turning around. “Terra-san!”

“Ah, sorry, give me a moment.”

“...Huh?”

Diode was taken aback. A single huge VUI panel was projected in the seat behind her, and a large number of blue, green, yellow, and red arrows illustrated the complex flow around a 3D model of a besshu. She could tell at a glance Terra was in the middle of a battle of managing data processing and a very intensive simulation panel, and she was laughing. More precisely, Terra’s cheeks were flushed, there was a fire in her gleaming eyes, and she wore a crazed smile. The sight of her laughing by herself would give anyone pause. Diode recoiled.

“Woah.”

“This... this is probably it. Can you believe it? Can you believe that organ is not only this  efficient, it can even sense the electric field too? Being able to calculate things ahead of time is practically a miracle, isn’t it?! Like, doesn’t it feel like we just made it to the point where one of us says, ‘so it all comes down to this, huh’?!”

“Sorry, but I didn’t catch a word you said. Also, your face is scaring me.”

“What, I’m scaring you?” Terra hurriedly massaged her cheeks with both hands and smiled weakly. “Is this better? ...Anyway, you were saying?”

“Nothing...” Diode shook her head and put everything into an emergency smile before bowing her head. “Sorry, looks like I still didn’t fully believe in you. You’re awesome.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, please keep going. What about our course, then?”

“What? Oh, right! So, for our next target, please chase it slowly!”

“Is it really okay to go slow?”

Diode tried to double-check that she’d heard correctly, and Terra confirmed again that she’d handle it somehow.

“In the meantime, I’m going to be decomping!”

“...Into what shape?”

“We’re keeping the same shape. I’m copying that organ—no, I’m going to make it digest!”

“Digest?”

“Yeah!” Terra’s blonde, wheat-colored hair gently drifted in the gel from her outpouring of excitement. She spoke in gestures.

“We’re going to digest the wind and light up here and fly away while we spin! ...That’s a really sloppy description, huh? Okay, so I can explain properly–”

“It’s fine.” Diode’s heartbeat quickened, already sensing again both the admiration and astonishment she had savoured so many times before. “It’s fine, you don’t have to say it. Show me everything and don’t hold back.”

3

Chūya watched as another pillar boat chased down and caught a besshu below him. The boat promptly decomped two large, spindle-shaped air sacs, which stabilized it as it pitched into level flight.

The sole purpose of fishing on this outing was to compare nishikigoi fishing skill, so there was no need to try for another. Once they caught a head, they left it at that and went on high-altitude standby to watch the others.

Just like the four other crews who caught nishikigoi before them had.

“Luu from the Xīnxīng clan did rather well, eh? Though I’m quite certain the Xīnxīng haven’t orbited the poles in the last 10 years.”

“Well, he’s been at this for a while. Either he learned it elsewhere or he’s a quick study of the demonstrations today.”

“Fishing like that had  to be him copying what he saw, no?”

“It’s a complex setup, but nothing dangerous. It’s way simpler than, say, stealth fishing from inside a deep inversion layer or trawling above a wandering ejector.”

“Exactly. Once you’ve taken the necessary steps to deal with the environment, you only need to fly straight.”

“I suppose, but you won’t be able to do a thing unless you already know what those measures are...”

The fishers who had already made their catch had taken up positions like leisurely spectators from on high. All were veterans who had been fishing for over 20 years, which had given them all experience in nishikigoi fishing. Their skills were undeniably the real deal, and two men finished their catch even before Chūya. The remaining two on stand-by, along with the man who had just finished, were older than Chūya as well.

One of the twisters who finished after Chūya spoke up. “Hey, Gendō fisher, how long are you gonna keep this sporting event running?”

It was the Keelung fisher Chūya provoked earlier. The fisher, who claimed origins from an old, warm-water island named Formosa, had followed through with his declaration to skillfully catch a nishikigoi. His tone was softer after Chūya beat him to the catch. That said, it wasn’t matter of acumen, but luck—their catches were no more than two minutes apart.

“As far as I can reckon, the young’uns don’t look like they’ll get any results. I think we’re at a good spot to wrap this up.”

“I would prefer to give them plenty of time, if possible,” Chūya responded. He wasn’t cruising with air sacs like the other pillar boats; his boat relied on thrust and aerodynamics alone.

“Heh, well aren’t you a nice one?” The Keeling fisher responded, finding the situation strange. “I thought you were here to filter out the untalented.”

“We did not intend to reduce the number of fishers. Instead, the most favorable outcome is fishers mastering the nishikigoi catch here and now.”

“Hmm...? Well, I hope they can at least finish up without wasting propellant."

The Keelung fisher, perhaps feeling slightly inferior from his loss to Chūya, ended their conversation on a light note.

Propellant is the least of our worries —Chūya thought. There were rescue boats on standby in the upper atmosphere this time, ready to act in case one of the crews ran out of propellant or suffered an accident. But it wasn’t just that; they had another duty.

Chūya was tasked with bringing back as many outstanding decompers as possible with him, at any cost. Experience or the ability to carry out difficult fishing was only part of what made them outstanding. If those qualities were all it took, then the four pairs present—five with the one that had just arrived—would have sufficed.

However, all five pairs had left scissor contrails, flying alongside the besshu belly-to-belly and catching it head-first. While there were small differences in technique, they were all fundamentally variations on the Gendō method, which was developed in the Circs’ early days and refined thereafter.

Even if it was a practical display of fishing skill, it couldn’t be called a display of outstanding decomping skill. An outstanding decomper wasn’t someone who masterfully copied another clan’s decompers, nor was their strong suit flying or catching. What really made a decomper stand out was...

“Oh, he caught it,” One of the men who had finished said.

That caught the attention of the others, who began asking which fisher it had been.

“That pair, the one over there,” he responded as they placed a shared marker on a revolving point of light.

“...That’s Salinzone from the Jack-of-All-Trades. Is anyone here acquainted with him, though? What’s he like?”

“Ah, I’ve had a number of drinks with him. Quite the interesting lad. Never gets hammered, only gets more prim—the more he drinks, the straighter his back gets. As a fisher? He’s annoyingly serious... why do you ask?”

“Seems like he’s doing some extra crazy fishing—you’re telling me that’s a serious guy at work?”

“Crazy fishing...?”

Their interest caught by the veteran’s remark, the others keenly watched the distant boat. Chūya looked right, following suit. He wasn’t acquainted with the man named Salinzone, but as he was a fisher from the Trades—which of late had done nothing but fight with the Gendō—Chūya remained alert.

Then, the fishers heard this: “Everyone in the skies, especially those who haven’t made a catch yet, listen to me please! This is Salinzone from the Ende—erm, from the Jack-of-All-Trades speaking!”

A feminine-sounding voice introduced itself with a man’s name. Only Chūya’s breath caught; the fishing crowd assumed it was his wife Açai speaking.

— This is Açai’s voice? I remember hearing it somewhere, even though I’ve never talked to this woman before...

The words that followed quickly removed all doubt.

“We’ve come up with a new way to fish for nishikigoi! And I believe even those who struggle with the Gendō method can use it! Please watch, we’re starting now!”

“What?”

Even Chūya, who normally remained quiet in surprising situations, couldn’t help a bewildered question. Fishing methods were never revealed so casually to others. Naturally, the shared channel was filled with shouting fishers and their wives.

“You’re showing  us?!” “A new method? You really mean it?!” “It’s not that big of a de–” “Nice! How did you suddenly accelerate like that just now?” “Where? What are your coordinates?!” “Wait wait, don’t just suddenly start showing us like this!”

Paying no mind to the shouts—a mix of surprise, chiding, encouragement, and amazement—the pillar boat with the pinned Trades’ marker stalked its next target. It descended into a chasm between the clouds and then, as if something had caught its attention, it abruptly ascended to begin the long, long climb to unite with the dazzling besshu that threw itself into the sky with all its might. Up until that point, the sight had been no different from the other pursuits.

However, as the pillar boat flew above the cloudtops on the tropopause and entered the stratosphere, it suddenly rotated towards the dorsal side of the fish—then smoothly shot upwards.

“Ohhh?!”

Everyone made odd noises. They couldn’t believe their eyes—at first, they thought the VUI video processing was lagging.

The motion was that  strange. The pillar boat lunged upwards a little too fast given that it wasn’t burning propellant; it was like mischievously squirting biofluid gel out of a deck dress pocket after disembarking.

The besshu suddenly snapped at it.

“Woah!” Chūya still couldn’t contain his surprise.

This time, the besshu moved in a familiar way, making the dash it made when fishers were about to cover the nishikigoi’s head with the net. It wasn’t trying to escape a net, though—it remained glued to the pillar boat as if trying to catch up.

With the besshu still in tow, both somehow managed to accelerate again.

“Ah, whaaa...?”

There were no more shouted questions or exclamations of surprise. The channel was filled with the confused and astonished muttering of people witnessing something incomprehensible for the first time. Why does it keep going forward? Why is it following them? How did they speed up? How are they shielding themselves from the plasma? What is this? Is it real, or an illusion?

The pillar boat and besshu rose higher and higher as one, leaving everyone and everything behind at 50,000 m altitude. When they reached 100,000 m in altitude and crossed the 100 km boundary between sky and space, the others realized they might reach the 1000 km altitude that nishikigoi attained in legend. Then, suddenly, they switched off. Even though the pillar boat and besshu had acted like they linked as a single entity, their connection terminated.

The colossal creature fell still. All light emission, from infrared to microwave—anything stronger than radio—practically ceased. The besshu rolled like it was about to fall away.

No... it’s still got inertia carrying it upwards, so it’s not going to fall, it just won’t be able to keep up with the pillar boat. It’ll finish crawling to the top of the parabolic arc first.

As Chūya thought about what was happening, the pillar boat turned 180 degrees to face the unresponsive creature that was falling behind and snuggled up to it with a gentle burst of the RCS jets.

The pillar boat decomped to wrap around the free-falling besshu and detached the section to set up a hot air balloon, which was left to float back down. As the pillar boat triumphantly began powered descent, its decomper announced:

“This is Die—I mean, fishing by getting the rising fish to exhaust itself!”

“There’s not...” ...a better name they could have used...?

Despite still digesting what the fisher meant by that phrase, Chūya was profoundly fascinated. He instantly commanded the pillar boat to analyze the captured footage, and even though it reconstructed the trajectory from approach to exit, it was still an enigma. What it aimed at, why it aimed there, what they were doing, and what had happened—it was totally incomprehensible. The only thing he understood was that the besshu itself had decided to chase them, and keep chasing until it exhausted itself.

No one in the 300 years of Circ history had ever fished like that. It was so nonsensical Chūya couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

As he did, Salinzone transmitted the binaries of their trajectory to not just Chūya, but the entire fleet. His shoulders shook as his eyes read through them. For a moment, he was speechless. Then, he finally burst out in carefree laughter.

“Charge-exchange acceleration...! I see!”

Below him, more than ten boats started to try out what the other vessel showed them.

“It’s charge-exchange acceleration!”

Their pillar boat was descending after their second successful catch. Now that she’d finally been told the principle behind the method they’d used, Diode turned around and gave Terra a big nod.

“Okay, go on.”

“I guess it’s something you can’t explain with just a term.” Terra replied with a small, forced smile. “We used the plasma shower to gain speed, to put it simply.”

“Aren’t you putting it too  simply?!”

“Right, if it was that simple, everyone would be doing it. So, at any rate, since the plasma shower is raining down from above, going up facing into it would normally give you radiation poisoning, not a speed boost.”

“Yes, exactly. So how the hell can they do that?” Diode asked. Then, with a dubious expression, she mumbled, “Is that what the rete mirabile is for? You said there wasn’t any heat to exchange, though.”

“Right, it’s not exchanging heat. The rete mirabile’s membranes are exchanging something else!”

The VUI panel that Terra had been fiddling with incessantly popped up in Diode’s hand.

“Here, look. There are blood vessels concentrated around the nishikigoi’s open mouth. That’s where it initially deals with the plasma shower. If its entire body was circulating blood exposed to a particle beam this intense, it’d cause all sorts of problems, buuut that’s not what’s happening here. That blood passes through the rete mirabile a little deeper in and then goes right back to the mouth. Meanwhile, its other circulatory system is behind the rete mirabile, and that one circulates the blood between its heart and the back half of its body. What the rete mirabile exchanges is electric, like–”

“Electrolyte? And why is it exchanging that ?” Diode was trying her best to follow, but she was a twister, not a chemist. “Is it trying to create a sports drink in its bloodstream or something?”

“I’m not sure you could call it a sports drink, since I’m pretty sure it would explode a human if we tried to drink it.” Terra didn’t feel like getting into the finer details and continued with a troubled expression. “Anyway, it absorbs the energy from the plasma shower, and that creates a propulsive force when it passes through the magnetic field of its body...”

“Propulsive force? Don’t be ridiculous.” Diode said, latching onto the one term she understood. “It didn’t use any kind of jet propulsion just now. So it’s accelerating like that without any rockets? Isn’t that a violation of physics?”

“You can propel things even without jets. We call it the Lorentz force.” Terra protested, then shoved a schematic towards Diode with both hands. “That's famously the mechanism where you generate force on an electric current by passing it through a magnetic field, right? Like in electric motors. You don’t see rockets used in those, do you? Do those go around spraying fire everywhere?!”

“Of course they don’t. Do you think I’m stupid?! ...No, sorry, I’m the one who mentioned rockets in the first place.” Diode tried her best to put the one thing she absolutely couldn’t believe into words. “So not only is it facing the plasma shower head-on, it’s using that to accelerate against it? That’s weird as hell! No way that doesn’t violate conservation of energy!”

“Kinetic energy’s not the only thing in the plasma shower—there’s electric energy too! It has way, way more of that!” Terra insisted. She wasn’t just relying on hypotheticals, but observable reality. “If you compare the amounts of electrical energy it absorbs and uses, you’ll find that it all balances out. The nishikigoi scoops up the electrical charge from the particle beam, then circulates it around its body structure. It can only scoop up the radiation when it’s facing into the particle beam, and that’s why it only aims for the sky when there’s an aurora! That’s just the kind of animal it is!”

The two glared at each other, panting. The boat slowly continued its descent.

“...So that’s how the nishikigoi does it?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s put the koi aside for now. How did you  do it with the boat, then? Does what you just told me also explain the crazy boost we got earlier?” Diode looked around her own VUI and nudged the virtual lever Terra had installed a short time ago. “Why are we able to get a disgustingly slick acceleration with just a pull of this lever?”

“Because I decomped the boat to do that.” Terra finally broke into a calm smile. “Last time I tried constantly recycling the boat’s outer hull, and that was a failure. So this time I put veins in it.”

“...I’m sorry, but did you say veins ?” Diode rubbed her forehead as she tried to imagine it. “You’re telling me you laid out pipes everywhere in our boat—across all 200 meters of it—using just the power of your imagination?”

“No, not all of it. Just the back half, around the engine support structure.”

“Wouldn’t you need as much plumbing as a hotel to do that?!”

“It felt like I was just copying my veins, if anything.”

“People usually aren’t aware of every single blood vessel in their bodies, are they...?”

“You don’t need to think about it that deeply. It’s fine. Plumbing’s the kind of structure that’ll keep the liquid circulating as long as the pump’s active.” Terra smiled, but it was the kind of satisfied smile of a person about to fall over from exhaustion. “It’s waaaaaay easier than constantly rotating the outer hull while it changes shape!”

“Terra-san, no, that’s... okay.” It was too much for Diode to take in, so it still felt unreal. She gave up on whatever she had been about to say next.

Terra had recreated the body of a living creature, even if it was an imitation. The real target of Diode’s complaints were over the absurdity of the fishing itself, or rather, the kinds of life in the harsh polar environment—not her partner arguing with her.

She gave a small shake of her head and tried to voice her last doubt. But the instant she began to speak, she already had a faint glimpse of the answer. The fish wanted the same thing she did.

“So what is the nishikigoi doing, flying up like that?”

“It’s simple, Die-san.” Terra whispered, her head gently swaying. “They’re Eda’s children, after all.”

“...Eda from the cloud sea?”

“They’re always trying for the day they leave the sea.”

The next thing Diode heard was a loud yawn.

“Uh, Terra-san?”

Diode looked back, then punched a quick command the virtual panel throttle to put the boat into level flight. She checked the ship’s log once, twice to make sure: their net casting and catching were a success. It was a solid, large catch of 20,000 tonnes. They didn’t need to show off for the time being. Diode merged their control pits and moved next to her partner.

“Good job.”

Terra’s slumped head bobbed as she nodded off. Diode took her shoulder, brushed down the floating blonde hair, and embraced her head.

The other fishers danced wildly in the skies around them, none succeeding at replicating their method. A decomp that was so heavily based on biological structures was fundamentally different from the traditional art, and wasn’t something that could be reproduced at the drop of a hat. It was likely only one or two veterans were even capable of it. Most would doubt that the method was even feasible, but since Terra had shared her entire process with the group it was clear that it was. It only highlighted Terra’s immense skill.

“...Ahaha.”

No, we’re here as the Trades’ fishers.  So it would be Salinzone and Açaí who would go down in Circ history as the ones who outwitted the Gendō. Diode wondered if the sudden honor would be a burden, or whether they’d accept it with dignity. Well, not that it matters. We won’t be at this planet anymore by the time anyone learns about this—and if we still are, then the Circs themselves are going to be on the path of becoming something else under the control of a single man.

Just as Diode remembered that and began to pull herself together again, a black flower icon began flashing on the VUI.

“Congratulations on your catch, Salinzone-san. If you would not mind, may we discuss a somewhat delicate matter?”

It was Chūya. Suddenly nervous, Diode gently touched her throat and replied.

“Y...yes, Salinzone here. Thank you. What do you wish to discuss?”

“You are Kanna-sama, are you not?”

“Guh.” Diode’s voice caught in her throat. She sighed, turned the voice-altering avatar off, and spoke with her real voice and appearance.

“Yes, it’s me. How did you figure it out?”

“The voice raised my suspicions, but it was the decompression that confirmed them. It is not the kind easily achieved by others.”

“Well, I suppose there wasn’t any way to hide that.”

“No matter. Not only did you survive, this is how you came here.” He sized Diode up for a moment, then nodded. “It is a surprise to me. The rumor circulating around Fuyō  is that you passed away.”

“I am very much alive, as you can see—and what now? Are you going to try capturing me again?” Just after she asked, she realized he wouldn’t have announced himself if that was his plan.

“No, I have a favor to ask of you two. Of course, you are under no obligation to grant my request, but would you mind hearing it first?”

“A favor?” Just as Diode began to frown...

“Does this have to do with the reason Meika didn’t board with you?” Terra woke up and gave Diode a small smile before turning to Chūya. “She isn’t  with you, is she?”

Chūya kept a neutral face and replied, “Are you implying something? That is a rather offhand question.”

“It’s not offhanded, I was wondering why we’d gone all this time without her saying anything. Your boat’s shape confirms it.” Terra magnified the image of Chūya’s aircraft in the upper atmosphere. “You’re not flying with any air sacs right now. You can’t perform any large-scale decomping because Meika-san isn’t there with you. You’ve been flying with the default shapes from auto-mode all day.”

“...”

“It’s really impressive that you caught a head of nishikigoi with the boat like that. You’re probably the most talented of anyone here.”

Is he going to agree with her or deny the obvious? —Diode wondered. But contrary to her expectations, he didn’t reply.

“Chūya-san?” Terra asked.

“...You have seen through me. However, you are mistaken about one thing. I understand this is requesting yet another favor from you, but I must ask that you keep this conversation secret.”

Terra looked back to Diode, who responded with a nod.

“Go ahead, Chūya-san.”

“Please, save Meika-sama.” His tone remained calm, but his words were heavy with emotion.

The two froze.

“...What do you mean, ‘save’?”

“Meika-sama is trapped within Fuyō’s Axis Chamber alongside other decompers. Nurude Shikiriyōni Keiwaku, our Clan Chief, is using his own daughter as a key to the Tamatebako. If this continues, they invite a total collapse. Please, save her...!”

“Woah, woah, Chūya-san, one thing at a time.” After she calmed him, Terra whispered, “This ‘Tamatebako’ is the Helm, isn’t it?”

“That may be the case. The Tamatebako is a Gendō fairy tale—a trap box filled with a gas which ages one rapidly. The device is likely named after that because it is dangerous and serves an important function. But, more importantly—”

Diode said, then switched places with Terra to talk with Chūya.

“I’ve got just one thing to say—your scheming helped get us here. It’s quite selfish of you to want help now , when you’ve been going along with this the entire time, isn’t it? Have you already forgotten everything you’ve done to us?!”

The young man gave a deep bow and replied, “I cannot apologize for that, and I cannot deny that I held ill will. Indeed, I did capture you on Nurude-sama’s orders. However... That was all for Meika-sama’s sake.”

“You’re saying that to me, when all I think of Meika is stuffing her in a box and firing her into Mother Beach Ball?!”

“I understand your feelings, and it is fair for you to feel that way. When this is all said and done, I will accept full blame—I swear it on my name. But in return, I ask you to grant my request.”

“Is begging the only thing you can do?!”

“Die-san, look!” Terra interrupted Diode’s snapping at the VUI and pointed at the image of the sky overhead.

Unbelievably, a single pillar boat was spinning and spraying flames as it lost its form and fell—then suddenly shifted into the shape of an upside-down vase and started slowly climbing again.

“Decomping...?”

“That’s not an automatic shape, that one’s created by a human!”

“—Jigō-san?” Diode’s eyes returned to the VUI before she fully comprehended what Terra just said.

Chūya was slouched and pressing his forehead. She could tell he wasn’t simply bowing to plead—he was enduring physical pain.

“Decomp sickness...?”

“Yes—” The young man grunted with pain. He covered his mouth, his voice quaking. “It is due to my casting the nets myself. As you know, however, it is a woman’s role to cast nets in the Gendō, and it is considered disgraceful for a man to perform it. Of course, if Nurude-sama learns of this, I am certain to be used as one of the Tamatebako’s keys.” The loyal zujin suddenly wiped his mouth and looked up. “And it is precisely for that reason Meika-sama sent me here.”

“'Scuse me, but it was for my sake too!!!”

A girl suddenly emerged from behind Chūya. Diode was confused for a moment until she recognized the face.

“If I remember correctly... you said your name was Ranju?”

“Yep, that’s me! Ranju Yomosugara Tachimachi! Er, I am pleased to hear you remember me!”

“You were decomping?”

“Nope! I’m just chilling here! I thought I might be able to handle it, but decomping with the real deal is waaay too hard!!!” The schoolgirl, who wore a kimono that was on the classier side, was using the same bird hairstyle from before even in the control pit. Her face looked fragile, like an animal tossed in the cage of a much larger beast. “Er, Nurude-sama actually extended the official summons to myself, but Meika-sama graciously went in my stead. So I am serving as Chūya-san’s backseat in her place.”

“That is the truth of the matter, Kanna-sama. Meika-sama is currently serving as a substitute for people this little one here.”

“Wait, wait. If this is going where I think it’s going—” Diode swung her arm to close the VUI in front of her and covered her ears. “—then I don’t want to hear it!”

“Die-san...”

“Up until now, she’s been allowed to do whatever she wants and caused all kinds of trouble chasing after us, and now , if we don’t escape, there’s a chance that she’ll turn us into that key or whatever, right? So even if you tell me a woman like her is nice because she really does care about her pet dogs, all I can say is I don’t care! I. Don’t. Give. A. Shit! I don’t want to see her for at least  a billion million years!”

“Die-san.”

Terra took her hand. Diode quickly noticed Terra was reasoning with her like she always did.

“Why don’t we run away, then?” She gave Diode a conceding smile. “Like, there are things you physically can’t stand no matter what, aren’t there? So, let’s run away. Right now we’re still showing up as Salinzone-san, so if we go to another base ship...”

It’ll create a whole new mountain of problems for us, but we’ll deal with it together and make it through somehow —was what Terra’s face was saying.

“Siiiiiigh...!” Diode shrugged violently. “You’re so unfair.”

“Hm?”

“When you hold yourself hostage like that.”

“Me? A hostage?”

“You’re absolutely holding yourself hostage. But Terra-san...” Diode looked up at her. “Are you really going to forgive all that? That offputting bitch and everything she’s done?”

“I’m just putting it aside for now. I have the feeling that having Chūya-san in our debt will make our moves from now on a lot easier, so I just thought this was the best course of action.”

Diode noticed Terra’s expression was a little stiff, and that she must have also been putting a lot of thought into it. The conversation had already changed Diode’s feelings somewhat, so she only needed a little water to help her swallow the proposal. She reopened the channel.

“Jigō-san.”

“Yes?”

“We have a deal. We’ll help you save Meika, but in exchange, promise us you’ll do everything in your power to help us escape.”

“And if you break that promise, none of this will be a secret anymore, got it?” Having said that, Diode felt a little better.

Chūya Genissee Jigō bowed his head. “You have my word.”

4

A group of more than twenty ships climbed out of the glowing aurora over Fat Beach Ball, and one-by-one shut down their mighty rockets as they reached orbit. Ahead of them, Fuyō , that lustrous fuschia-colored base ship shaped like a flower in bloom, steadily approached their formation. The fifteen boats which had joined in support of the plan to set out for fishing in the distant Galactive Interactive followed the Gendō ships at the head of the procession. Not everyone who went nishikigoi fishing had risen to the challenge, but they needed to make port at least once anyway to resupply. The boats began their final approach to the southern pedicel port after a smooth exchange with the fishing officers.

Unbeknownst to anyone at Fuyō , the approaching ships gathered under the guise of a visiting fleet were composed entirely of the opposition taking shape against the Gendō.

“We haven’t really run into any problems so far, buuut....” Terra anxiously looked back and forth. As the day’s MVP, she was leading the trapezoid formation of visiting ships. “This will work, right? We’re not going to suddenly get sussed out by the fishing officer, are we?”

“There’s nothing to worry about? At least, as long as the patrol boat crew isn’t plotting to check in here.”

“They’ve gotta be planning something like that, right?! They will if this is anything like you see in action Contents!”

“Let’s just pray this doesn’t turn into one of those extra flashy Contents with explosive stunts.”

Every one of the fishers in the other 14 boats there to investigate the situation were raiders with the goal of overthrowing Nurude. So, when the Trades’ boat—alongside the four others they already had a secret agreement with—called out to the remaining boats, they agreed to join in. The Gendō patrol boat, which brought the fishing judges, was seized by other ships after Chūya distracted it over comms.

That boat was currently stationed in the middle of the group, surrounded by the pillar boats. While the ship was under threat of being crushed by decomping if it tried anything, the pillar boats wouldn’t be able to stop it if it went all-in on fighting its way out.

They also had two other problems. One of them was that Terra and Diode were still hiding their true identities from the other fishers they’d allied with. The plan was to remain undercover as long as possible while they looked for an opportunity to take Nurude down. They had no idea whether their luck would hold or not.

The other was how they would even find that opportunity.

“Jigō-san said that his relatives would cooperate or whatever, but if that’s all we have to count on, I don’t think we can really rely on him,” Diode said as she made her usual skillfully-performed manual fine adjustments to enter port.

As she admired the girl’s abilities, Terra asked, “We can’t rely on him? He seems so dependable, though.”

“It’s not that he’s undependable, it’s that the Jigō family is weak. The Keiwaku family, and their supporters in the Bureau of Protocol, currently have the most influence in the Gendō clan—if we’re talking personnel and resources under the Keiwaku banner, it’s about 3/5ths. The Jigō have about 1/20th. They defied the Clan Chief over some trivial issue a while back and have gotten the short end of the stick ever since.”

“1/20th?! Oh, come to think of it, what about your father? I remember you telling me he resigned from his Council of Elders post, though.”

“Compared to the influence the other Ishidōrō have, he’s got the presence of a speck of print toner. Better than nothing, I guess?”

Diode called Chūya to ask if she could get in touch with her father. His response made her lose it.

Fangs bared, she shouted, “That oblivious dunce already managed to get himself caught! And here I thought he at least had the good sense to run away!”

“Hnnn,” Terra whined.

“So, Terra-san, do you think we could play your trump card?”

“My trump card? Oh, right.” Terra called using the communication protocol she had arranged in advance. “Eda-san, are you alive?”

Terra wondered whether she and the Insomnia  were still safe. After several breathless seconds, an electronic noise came from her minicell and a palm-sized woman in a lab coat appeared and waved.

“Oh, cute as always, aren’t you, Terra-chan? I’m good, I’ve been tricking Security with the old ‘broke down and can’t go anywhere’ defense. Where are you now?”

“I’m so glad you’re okay! I’m just outside the port.”

Just as Terra heaved a sigh of relief, she was startled as Diode’s pit shoved up beside hers. She forcefully gestured for Terra to show her.

“Here y–”

“Alias, Diode. Real name, Kanna Ishidōrō Gendō. I’m Terra-san’s twister and partner . Now see here, Eda Exceptional or whatever they call you–” Diode’s tone was imperious, and she stared daggers at Terra’s left hand. Terra desperately tried to rein her back.

“D-Die-san?! Why are you talking like that all of a sudden?”

“That’s my  line. What’s with you being all buddy-buddy right now?! I’m not screwing around here, just where does she get off calling you cute, and by the way, Terra- chan ?! Why are you letting her call you that?!”

“I-I h-haven’t been letting her call me that, she’s doing that all on her own. This woman was the very first and very exceptional fleet captain, so I can’t talk back to her.”

“The first? What are you talking about, that person’s dead, isn’t she?! Look, I’m not tolerating this. She’s going to call you Intercontinental-san. You hear me, Eda?! You’re banned from using ‘Terra-chan’, starting now—”

“HAHAHAHA, ahahaha. Ah, so that’s how you two are, huh? Ah, isn’t youth adooorable...”

The two briefly shut their mouths as the tiny Eda doubled over in laughter. Diode, however, cleared her throat and confronted her.

“Don’t seduce Terra-san. I’m serious about this.”

“Ehhh...? I’d never do anything of the sort! This is just an exchange of necessary information! We’re just lubricating our friendship, aren’t we, Terra-chan?”

“I’m sorry, but please stop... I belong to Die-san, so...”

“Mgh.” Eda looked down and pushed her glasses against her nose, then trembled for a bit. “So, what you’re saying is that... this is what you wanted to get back the most?”

Terra suddenly felt time rewind, bringing her back to the question Eda had thrown at her back in Idaho .

“Um, it was also for her personality, but, it was like, her existence...? So if I could describe what I wanted as something I can touch, her body...? I guess? Yeah, I think so.”

“Knock it off, please. You really don’t need to tell that kind of thing to others!”

“All right.” Eda gave Terra a short reply and gently brushed her short hair back. With a hand on her chest, she greeted Diode. “I am Dryeda de la Lucid. I was 29 years old when I died. You have my apologies for teasing you. I’ll refrain for now. I wish I could shoot the breeze with you two until morning, but we don’t have the time. We’ve probably only got enough time for a cup of tea before you arrive. You wouldn’t be opposed to keeping our exchange to strictly necessary info, would you?”

Eda’s sudden attitude change threw Diode off a little, but she replied in agreement. “Fine.”

“Now that that’s settled, it’ll just be me and Terra-kun talking for a bit since we really understand one another. Terra-kun, I’ll explain what’s happening.”

“Ah, okay!”

“Grr...!” Diode grit her teeth and swallowed her anger.

“The Clan Chief here, this Nurude fella, opened the Tamatebako and started using that wretched device. It was installed during the early years of the exile fleet, and there’s nothing good about it, which–”

“Sorry, but we already know about this Tamatebako thing.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, Chūya-san talked about it. He told us a lot of other stuff, too. It’s a device that gives you total control over the 16 base ships, right?”

“Mhm, exactly. That makes this easier. Anyway, the Tamatebako was why that guy was talking about taking everyone to the Galactive Interactive. It’s just a boring development.”

After listening to her, Terra shyly asked, “Uh... you wanted to go back to the Galactive Interactive, right, Eda-san? You haven’t thought about working with Nurude-san or anything like that, then?”

She had the feeling the answer was probably best left unsaid, but she preferred to hear it anyway.

Eda’s response was unexpected. “Nah, I have zero interest in that. It’s not even worth considering.”

“Really?”

“I’m after something that’s gotten extremely vague and indistinct, with only scattered clues still around. The trail is faint, and even with two nimble people like yourselves cooperating, I’m not sure I’ll be able to follow it. So, if I worked with someone who’s responsible for some clan or a society, and who also happens to be an enormous fool, catching up would be absolutely impossible .”

“...”

The expression Eda gave her looked as though she was trying to conceal her true intentions—or rather, it was difficult to get a read on her because the minicell’s projection was so small. It was clear, though, that prying more deeply into her goals would lead to no end of indecipherably complicated conversations.

So, Terra... “I don’t really get it, but that means you need to come with us for now, right?”

“Yep, for now, and  to the end, certainly.”

That was the best explanation they would get. For the time being, at least.

“Uhhh, going back to what we were talking about before, but... we have to stop Nurude-san from seizing control over the Circs. And with that as our goal, we wanted to save the captured decompers, too.”

“Ah, the box’s keys.”

“Yeah, that! That’s the word Chūya-san used, too! What exactly do you mean by ‘key’?”

“The Tamatebako is a system that boots up when 24 or more decompers are physically connected to it.”

“24 people... physically connected  to it?”

“Yes. There’s a hidden room near Fuyō’s  axis, and that’s where the core device and a number of beds are installed. The system begins incrementally booting when 13 decompers are placed in the beds in a comatose state, and its functions completely unlock when all 24 are occupied.”

“Isn’t that kind of... no, isn’t that an incredibly inhuman device?!”

“Well, yes, because after all, the Fángjūn were  the ones using it when the exiled decompers were under their management.”

“Exiled decompers...”

“Seems like you’re already aware your ancestors were exiles and not pioneers. It’d be a problem if those people took the helm and went back to the Galactive Interactive, yeah? So, the Fángjūn set up a system that no one among the potential insurgents would use voluntarily. That’s  the Tamatebako. You know why it uses 24 people?”

“Because there were 24 exiled clans back then? So... it’s a device that couldn’t be operated unless each clan offered a sacrifice to it?”

“Bingo, exactly. You’re catching on quick today, Terra-kun! Good girl, headpats for you.”

Eda had explained like it wasn’t a serious matter, but Terra more or less understood why she didn’t want to cooperate with Nurude. She covered her mouth and looked to her side. Diode nodded at her with an equally pained expression.

“What a cruel machine... Why would they even build something like that?”

“I don’t know because I never tried asking the people who built it. But if memory serves, normal  people back then shunned decompers. So, they really didn’t have any qualms about building things like that.”

“And were you any different, Eda-san?”

“If I’d been on their side, I’m sure they would have put me up against the wall with the others in the 3rd Year Uprising.”

“Haha...” Eda’s unnaturally breezy tone made Terra think she’d repeated that to others long enough that she’d come to believe it herself. “Anyway, an acquaintance of ours is trapped in there. Do you happen to know if there’s a way for you to save her? Like, using your Great Chief authority or–”

“The Tamatebako’s functions override my authority as Great Chief. It’s a matter of power in this situation, and if we’re talking about which system is given more control, it would naturally be the one with a stricter authentication protocol, right?”

“B-but it’s still not fully online, is it?” Terra immediately dug in. “I mean, couldn’t we set up a surprise attack using the functions they still don’t have access to?”

“Woah, Terra-kun, you’ve hit on something quite clever.” Eda snapped her fingers. “So, attacking it from a blind spot using a function it can’t access, hmm... How about something like this?”

Eda switched to a simple schematic which appeared in her place. Terra understood it in a single glance, but she couldn’t help but comment.

“T-that’s pretty violent, isn’t it...?”

“It is, but it probably  won’t get anyone killed. More importantly, we won’t get found out. The timing for the most important part of the surprise attack is simple enough. There’s no point doing anything complicated—it’s impossible because we have no time to rehearse it.”

“Guh... Yeah, you’re right.”

“You’ll visit Nurude with the other 14 pairs of fishers. We’ll end this when you first meet him in person. We can’t wait to see how it goes or anything. It’ll be his first time in a fight like this, so it’ll go well for sure.”

“Okay, if you say so. But as for the parts we need your help with... Ah, maybe we could say Ozuno-sama did it? What do you think, Die-san?”

“Die-chan’s busy.”

Surprised, Terra looked around the boat. They had already passed the anti-debris hull that resembled the outer sheath of a budding flower and were entering the pedicel port just past the barbaric port cannon. Diode, who had moved her pit back to the front of the boat at some point, carefully steered their boat towards the approaching metallic pier tube.

Giving a half-glance back, she said, “I’m in the middle of final approach. Once I dock, we’ll still have a little time before the main group arrives, so use it to contact the others, please.”

“‘Kaaay!”

“I heard how this should go, so I’ll leave it to you.”

Terra shared their strategy with the rest of the group through a hidden channel that Fuyō  couldn’t receive. At the same time, to avoid exposing their identities after they docked, they received a briefing from Chūya on how to get to town by taking a different route.

Meanwhile, the pillar boat barreled towards the pier, but just before it collided, it smoothly decelerated and gently came to dock. Terra, her hands full with finalizing their plans via radio, caught Eda’s muffled laughter.

“I see, she’s good, isn’t she?”

“Right? I love it so much.”

“Yeah, that was a treat. Now, I’m gonna go over there.”

“Oh, wait, I had some things I wanted to ask before—Eda-san?”

The figure in the lab coat disappeared from her minicell. Diode brought her pit alongside Terra’s, and pointing to the boat’s shadow on the opposite side of the docking hatch, said, “I’m disembarking. Is everything ready?”

There were a number of things Terra wanted to talk about—themselves, Eda, the GI, decomping—but they didn’t have the time.

“See you later, Eda-san,” Terra said, then quickly began preparing to disembark.

5

Do this—wait, why did you do that? Stop it— She dreamed of constant, endless interruptions, of being forced to do things and of being scolded for doing them, and of being ignored even when she was obviously doing what she was told.Meika’s mind was crushed under that dark pain until she woke up to light striking her face.

The small spotlight shining down from above was blocked by the inverted figure of a man in his prime. He had a finely chiseled face. Her sliding bed had been pulled out of its shelf in the wall just enough to see her head.

They were in Fuyō ’s Axis Chamber, inside the room known as the Tamatebako.

The upside-down man wiped the tears from Meika’s cheek, as if taking pity.

“Are you all right, Meika? Are you able to endure being a subject?”

Meika’s mouth slowly formed a smile before she responded, “I am fine, Father. A trial of this caliber is a mere trifle.”

“But it is harsh, is it not? It is it not painful? If you find yourself unable to endure, for any reason, it is possible to replace you with another person.”

“There is no need, Father. It seems the device maintains the experience at an appropriate intensity.”

“Of course. Otherwise, I would not place someone as precious as you inside, even for the noble cause of bringing prosperity to the Gendō.”

The man, Nurude, closed his eyes in a look of relief. “At any rate, your agony will be over soon enough. You will be released once we are supplied with the 15 keys which are to arrive shortly. You need endure only a while longer.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Our promise will be kept. You have my word.”

“Thank you, Father.”

The zuijin near Meika carefully observed her physical condition and suggested she rest for a little bit. Her father, who had generously allowed Meika’s break, exited the room.

Once by herself, Meika punched the casing inside the solidly-built bed. It was true that she was able to endure it, and she hadn’t lied when she said she was thankful. However, what she was thankful for was that her father hadn’t pried further after brushing off her answers. She could put up with it because the stress she was experiencing wasn’t any different from what she normally experienced. Even though she had no interest in sacrificing herself for an honorable cause, her father didn’t seem to understand that in the slightest. He simply viewed his own daughter as a mere follower; her engagement to Chūya as a change of heart. And on top of it, Kanna was now completely beyond her reach.

All of it drove her to punch the casing hard enough to feel it in her bones. The bed beside hers suddenly rolled out of its shelf.

“AAAARGH!” The strange scream reverberated in the room and brought the zuijin in charge of the subjects running. He performed an examination, provided a drink, and left with the bed still out. The subject wasn’t in a state to be shoved back in so soon, but not serious enough to be removed by the zuijin, either. The complaining started once they were alone.

“Damn bastards, what a barbaric machine. Who would design something this monstrous?”

It was a man’s voice. The mere presence of a man inside the Tamatebako was unusual enough that she would have been uncomfortable, but the voice caught her attention instead. She knew who it belonged to. Beyond exchanging pleasantries with this distantly-related man, she hadn’t really interacted with him. But they did share one piece of common ground.

Meika sat up slightly to make sure there were no zuijin around, then looked to her side and whispered, “Kanna-san’s father, good evening.”

The short, baby-faced man who had, like Meika, been wiping the tears on his cheek moments earlier turned towards her. “Ah, if it isn’t Nurude’s daughter.”

“You were making quite the racket. What kind of nightmare were you  having?”

“I dreamed that people left one-by-one and were befelled by misfortune... No, I shouldn’t burden you with this. I’ve shown you a rather unseemly side of myself.” Ozuno wiped his dripping nose with the back of his hand and turned away. “You don’t need to concern yourself with me. You may return to your patrol.”

“I am a subject myself.”

“What? What’s your angle here?”

With his surprised look and demand for answers, Meika could see the family resemblance. He was definitely Kanna’s father.

“And why would I be plotting anything?”

“Because you are a very clever person. Not just anyone is capable of hunting down my girl or making a fool of her. A person like you wouldn’t end up here without a plan. Are you doing this for your father’s sake?”

“...You seem quite understanding of another man’s daughter.” Meika felt willing to talk, since Ozuno seemed to think she was here because of someone else, not because she had a purpose. Meika laid back, and looking at the ceiling, said, “It is so I can wed my zuijin.”

“Oh...?”

“Father planned to marry me off to a foreigner to cast nets. Even if he had not, there is a difference in status, as my zuijin is a Jigō. Normally, that arrangement would be unthinkable to Father, but I took advantage of his worries about our lack of available decompers to cut a deal.”

“A very direct explanation. Right, Chūya... the Chūya Jigō-kun who always accompanies you, hm? I agree he’s a good man—but you were into my daughter, were you not?”

“Yes, but she got away from me, so...” After ungracefully answering Ozuno’s shy questioning, she continued even less gracefully, “I’m forced to settle for Chūya as a compromise, since I’m sure he can live without relations from me.”

“That’s... hm.”

The man beside her fell quiet and Meika felt her worry lighten. Soon, though, he began talking again.

“I can decomp a little.”

“Oh, my...”

“I think I was taken into custody because my work was an eyesore, but they justified it by saying I was ‘male netting’.”

“...Is that something you should share with me?”

“Should I find it too embarrassing to share, you mean? Well, it is  embarrassing, but I’ve come to terms with it. I’m sure Kanna would snicker ruefully. I take it you feel the same?”

“Who even knows...”

“At any rate, it’s a stupid topic. Every one of our ancestors was exiled for the crime of decomping. As their descendents, all of us should be able to decomp too. There’s no such thing as ‘male’ netting or ‘female’ piloting. Besides, since interclan marriages have mixed our lineages, claiming descent from a specific clan is nothing more than a fairy tale.”

“Those are rather fringe ideas, no?”

“Hm? They’re nowhere near as fringe as your father’s ideas.”

Even Meika had no response to something like that. Her father planned to migrate to a distant planet. He was turning kooky, and so were the people around him. They were taking Fuyō  down a bizarre, twisted path, going on about a secret only they knew about. She had no idea just how far Fuyō  had gone, or if there even was  a way back.

She heard the sound of approaching adhesion boots and whispered, “It is as if this world is coming to an end.”

Then, she heard the man reply, “My girl may still be able to do something about it.”

“What? No way.” Meika gave a sharp, instinctive response, then mumbled, “Actually, she might, but...”

To which Ozuno added, “But if it’s those  girls, then...”

The zuijin stopped and shoved the beds assigned to Kanna and Ozuno back into the Manpresser.

The 15 clans’ fishers, who had come under the pretense of accepting the Gendō clan’s generous invitation so they could capture Nurude and his associates in Fuyō’s central sector, found the jig was already up the moment they stepped foot in port.

The Gendō welcoming committee’s attitude, which had been all smiles, abruptly shifted. They cut the connection to the fishers’ pillar boats as they arrived at dock and disembarked. The shape-shifting vessels, the fishers’ most effective weapon, were seized alongside their crews. Fifteen airlocks detonated simultaneously—a bold choice, to be sure, but manageable for a base ship—and literally cornered the fishers.

To make matters worse, Salizone and his wife were nowhere in sight even though they’d supposedly arrived ahead of everyone else. The pair had vanished like smoke, leading the resentful crews to believe they’d been working for the Gendō all along. Although the welcoming committee was  shocked to find a crew missing, the fishers only sensed their enemy had only been slightly inconvenienced. Still, even if they wanted to resentfully dig their heels in, the floor of a zero- g  spaceport wasn’t the place for it. All they could do was kick at the air in frustration.

And so, the fifteen visiting fishing pairs, minus one, were escorted to the Axis Chamber.

“Axis is an ancient word represented by a shaft and wheel.”

The dim sector lacked gravity. A young, black-haired fisher held up a torch-shaped lantern in his left hand and grabbed a twisted vine rope anchored to the wall with his right. As he floated ahead, he began a monologue that sounded like a lecture.

“This word from the ancient past only serves as proof that the Gendō—the Gendō of the Anno Domini era—built space stations with centrifugal artificial gravity. Clan Chief Nurude’s wish is that our clan, with its most distinguished galactic history and outstanding artisanship in fishing, lead the Circs along the pathway to abundance and happiness.”

“You people and your pseudo-historical bullshit.”

“Your clan’s not the only one with rich traditions.”

The fishers bit back, bundled together as they were with a net and carried along by Gendō dressed in black. As both parties were already aware of the others’ plans, the fishers dropped any pretense of politeness.

“We don’t need a Great Chief or an expedition plan as it is. We’ve been making do by simply fishing, recycling, and calmly discussing resource allotment at the Bow-Awow,” came a response from the pile of fishers.

It seemed to be the assertive Keelung fisher, whose wife joined in on haranguing the masked figure. “That’s right, leave us alone!”

From the darkness of the path ahead, they heard a low, gentle voice.

“And yet, children grow fewer everywhere.”

Several torch-shaped lamps came alight, revealing a human face twice as large as average among them. The fishers’ breath hitched.

The face was bizarre. His eyes were mere threads, angled downwards at their tips. His mouth seemed to curl in an unnatural smile for no particular reason. There was a styled moustache—single, long tufts on each side—and a pinched beard. The face’s puffed cheeks gave it a strange shape and undermined whatever dignity the styling may have had. The hair was short-cropped, adorned with a black cloth hat resembling a dorsal fin. The hat flopped left and right as the head swayed. For some reason, the figure also held a struggling aquatic fish under its arm.

“Our ability to sustain ourselves is diminishing, our lifestyle slowly but surely becoming one of frugality. We discover a crack in construction material we once thought durable, and before we know it, a town square closes after three years with no traffic. Twenty-four clans have become sixteen. We lose our crucial momentum and slip further into the well as we revolve around FBB—and it is not the atmosphere I speak of. We are sliding towards a rapid collapse, and eventually we will find ourselves at its precipice.”

The figure emerged from the background and advanced. At some point, the corridor had been surrounded by a ceiling, floor, wooden pillars—all of which joined horizontally and vertically—and countless paper sliding doors. The architecture wasn’t magnificent, but it was an exotic sight compared to the other base ships. It seemed to extend forever in each direction.

“We will starve, separate, and finally, die. Allow me to welcome you to the Axis Chamber. I am Nurude Shikiriyōni Keiwaku.”

The man, who wore loose-sleeved, Eastern-style clothing gently floated through the air by paddling his hand left and right. He gracefully made his way to the center of the room and stopped himself directing his palms forward.

The sight put the fishers on guard. That he was floating wasn’t strange—they were in zero- g —it was that he had stopped himself. It gave the appearance of having some kind of hidden power. The net restraining the fishers loosened, but none lunged for the man. They simply remained alert, scowling.

Terra and Diode monitored the scene from a duct in the ceiling 15 meters away.

Terra crawled on her belly. She watched on her minicell screen, and in an impressed tone, whispered, “Wow...! It’s like he’s able to generate a magnetic field with his own hands if he wants. So Nurude-san can decomp, too?”

“No, I think beforehand, they laid out footing thread all over the room,” Diode said with a sour look on her face. “You can’t see it because it blends into the background, since the floor and walls are full of vertical and horizontal lines.”

“What? That’s such a... cheap trick—um, I mean, a quaint ruse.”

“You don’t need to censor yourself. He wouldn’t try that with other Gendō, since they know what that stage is like. That mask, and the magic act–”

“A mask? So he’s just covering his own face with a big mask?”

“Yes...? It’s wood. That doesn’t look like flesh, right?”

“Wow, and here I was thinking, ‘so that’s  who’s behind this...’”

“That’s obviously not his real face. Nurude’s the picture of a middle-aged man!”

“Come on, no way I could have known that! I’ve never seen anything like it before, so I thought something crazy had shown up! And it was dark, too!”

“So that’s how people from other clans see it...? This might end up being an unexpectedly effective strategy, then.”

“What should we do?”

“Let’s watch a little longer. I think he’s gotten obsessed with some insane vision, but we might get some information out of this. Some of it might even be useful.”

Diode felt herself feeling more hesitant as she spoke, but Terra’s reply nudged her on.

“Right. That, and the invisible thread will keep us from playing our trump card.”

“...Yeah, you’re right.”

“We’ll charge in from above as soon as you think we’re clear, okay? I’ll go in with everything I’ve got!”

Terra made a fist and showboated inside the cramped duct, smashing Diode—at her side—into the wall.

“Gweh.”

The confluence of several factors had brought the two there. They couldn’t come in with the other fishers, and while Chūya and Eda were able to give them an infiltration route and run interference with security devices, they weren’t available to guide the two. So, they did what Diode was best at: sneaking through the ductwork. Since they’d both come wearing low-resistance tightsuits for this exact situation, infiltrating through the ducts was no big deal. What was  a big deal was Terra’s size. Still, it would give them an advantage when they launched their attack.

Just to be on the safe side, they indirectly kept watch over the events below using the minicell’s camera through a crevice a little further away.

“Clan Chief Nurude, that’s quite an eccentric costume for a welcoming party.”

A fit, married couple stepped forward from the briefly-overpowered group. They were the Hebrew fishers who were the second to catch the nishikigoi. They took a seemingly calculated look around and said, “And the set has rather intricate staging.”

“You should turn this into a public performance. People would pay to see it at the Bow Awow.”

“Your praise is deeply appreciated, but this guise is not our way of entertaining ourselves. It is to give foreigners a warning.” Nurude swung the fish he held under his left arm into the air and continued, “Ebisu—this is the monster the guise represents. Or perhaps, as some claim, not a monster, but a symbol of a god forgotten to us. At any rate, the form it takes is strange. It is an odd, powerful being from the sea that presides over fishing and the art of producing alcohol. That  is what we are attempting to impress upon you.”

“We recognize the excellence of Gendō fishing, so you didn’t need to impress us there.” The Hebrew fisher punched the air with one hand. “Though I wish I could say the same for the alcohol. If you had, maybe you’d have something to show for all this. Don’t all sixteen of our clans discuss issues like this over a beer? Why the sudden rashness?”

The other fishers expressed agreement and nodded. Nurude shook his head.

“Do not misunderstand me, it was not our intent to threaten other clans. We only wish to show an existence beyond our star.”

“An existence beyond our star...? Oh, you mean that planned expedition? I think it’s about time you knock it off with that nonsense.”

“If you want to be the boss, you should just come out and say it.”

The fisher stared at his wife in awe, and she responded with a flick of her eyes. Even she  was speaking up. For the moment, Nurude was silent.

Overhead, Terra anxiously whispered, “Wow, even his wife is going in on Nurude-san. He’s definitely going to take it as a huge insult. Is she going to be okay...?”

“He will, but she wasn’t insulting him. She’s provoking him. She’s trying to make him angry.”

“Right.”

Diode touched Terra’s arm as a signal to get ready.

“...None of this is nonsense .” Nurude began to speak again, still concealed behind by the strange mask. “There was not a single lie in our broadcast. We are a people who were run out and subjected to harsh conditions. However, it is precisely because of the conditions at this planet that we have honed our ability to decompress, and if we can fully operationalize the Tamatebako, we can cast nets in the galactic river, as shown by—”

“The only thing you’ve shown us is leaving the homes of your comrades in the dark for a few minutes. It’s not a very inspiring threat.”

The Hebrew woman ridiculed him again, but Nurude didn’t remain silent this time.

“What would inspire you, I wonder?” He asked, tossing away the fish under his arm.

On his left and right, zuijin dressed in black emerged shadow-like from behind the rectangular pillars and began attacking the fishers.

The fisher from Drone&Dongle, who had been first to catch nishikigoi, shouted, “Decompress!” The sight that followed was astonishing.

Swords, clubs, sickles and shields simultaneously emerged from the bustles, bloomers, oxygen reserve tanks, and handbags of the still gel-soaked deck dresses of the wives.

“So this is what you throw together when your backs are to the wall. Seize them!” Nurude ordered, and the scuffle began.

“Woah, this  is how it’s turning out? I thought they’d talk Nurude-san down and then  overpower him...”

“That D&D fisher, Esik, has the largest catch in the entire  fleet, and even he couldn’t convince Nurude. He’s impulsive and brimming with fanaticism, so a fight was the only way this could end.”

As Terra panicked at the sight of the melee, Diode mumbled, “Go ahead and signal Eda.”

“S-Sure!”

Diode kept an eye on the fight below. Thirty seconds after it began, the fishers seemed to be getting the upper hand. The men had some of the fastest reflexes in the fleet, and the women were handing them weapons made from shape-shifting clay. They knocked out the zuijin attempting to capture them and began pushing them back.

But then, there was suddenly a sharp crack as one of the pillars on the wall collapsed. Five or six fishers were swept off their feet as if they’d been dragged along with it.

“It’s a wire! Someone cut it!” The D&D fisher commanded as he scuffled. The fishers had figured out how Nurude stopped himself in midair, but it was too dangerous to cut something they couldn’t see in the chaos. When someone with a sharp tool did cut the wire, they felt a thud as the room gently swayed and brought down several more pillars. Wires lashed at the fishers and whipped them flailing into the air.

A wave of reinforcements rushed the fishers, and the fishers were quickly corralled by zuijin. The balance of the battle had flipped, and the people in black were subduing the fishers one by one.

“Looks like it’s over...”

“It’s okay—I think  it’s okay.” Diode repeated as she stared at Nurude.

So far, neither Nurude’s trusted friends or the Vice Clan Chief had appeared, which meant he was in sole command of the Gendō side. As long as they were careful in responding to his moves, they still had a chance to come out ahead.

The man in question kept watch from the corner of the room. He raised his hand as the conflict reached its conclusion, seemingly exhausted.

“We will end this now. You have all done well.”

This time, each fisher was restrained by the arms, not tied together as before. Remaining masked, Nurude approached their leader and leveled his eyes with the D&D fisher.

“You have my deepest apologies for the violence, but it was a required part of the process.”

“We were the ones who were violent, though... Wait.” The fisher suddenly had a realization. “You were letting  us decomp?”

“Indeed.”

“So that was all a ploy to exhaust our wives? We absolutely took the bait!”

Terra and Diode were also surprised by what they were seeing, but Nurude’s reply baffled them even more. A zuijin handed him a clay weapon they had picked up, and Nurude, looking at it with a great deal of interest, said, “Your wives are not what I was exhausting.”

“Huh...?”

“Yet, it will indeed make it easier to get them inside the Tamatebako.” Nurude straightened and gave the command. “Take them further inside.”

“Stop!” “Let go of my wife!”

The men started to yell as they saw their wives being hauled away.

Nurude shook his head again. “They will eventually be returned to you safe and sound. However, there will be one issue—they will no longer be able to cast nets.”

“What?!”

Nurude only turned once as he headed deeper into the chamber. “Regrettably, it cannot be avoided.”

He disappeared into the darkness, taking the women and zuijin with him. Left behind, their husbands started putting their heads together in discussion.

In the duct, Terra held her breath. She ruminated on what she’d just heard.

—Your wives are not what I was exhausting.

—They will no longer be able to cast nets.

She felt a chill run down her spine. What did he mean by not being able to cast nets, exactly? He said they’d be returned unharmed, so he’s not going to injure them—but our nets come from our heart. Once we’re freed from the shackles of words and routine, we can spread our nets and fly our boats. A condition where we can’t cast nets... is one where we can’t bring our imagination to life. But then, what did he mean ? What was he exhausting when he rigged that fight?

“Terra-san!”

Diode jerking her shoulders brought her back to her senses. She looked at Terra impatiently.

“We need to get going now . Are you ready?”

“Yeah... yeah, I am.”

“Are you really ready? You looked like you were thinking about something important.”

“No—we can go, it’s fine. We’re charging in, right?!” The train of thought that had derailed somewhere was back on track. She looked down the passageway. “We need to follow them, but, ah, we can’t...”

The duct didn’t go any further. Diode's experience and intuition had gotten them this deep into the Axis Chamber, but naturally, the ducts didn’t pass through the extremely classified Tamatebako.

“Guess there’s no other way.”

Diode pointed to the vent hatch the camera had been watching through, then slid behind Terra.

Now in the lead, Terra took out the AMC clay coiled around the form-fitting torso section of her deck dress and put it on the hatch. Diode watched Terra close her eyes and take a deep breath before—in a process that never ceased to amaze her—transformed the clay belt into a powerful cylinder that pressed against the floor and ceiling of the duct. The hatch creaked, then finally broke outwards.

“Done! I’m going on ahead, okay?”

The tall woman slid out legs first, then Diode dived after her head-first without delay. The pair of women dressed in black and blue appeared in front of the squirming fishers, who had all piled up in a corner of the room as they floated around. Amidst the dumbstruck faces, it was unsurprisingly the D&D fisher who recognized them. “The 58K Endeavour? Why are you here?”

“To stop Nurude-san. We were also Salinzone from the Trades, so...”

“This voice... you–”

“Sorry, no time. We’ll explain later. We’re gonna save your wives.”

“Wait!”

The two ignored him and moved deeper into the murk. Diode looked at Terra for a moment.

“So, explaining the situation and bringing them with us isn’t going to work?”

“We don’t have time,” Terra said, shaking her head. “You saw how they’d piled up against the wall, right? That means Eda-san’s already moved into action.”

“Oh!” Diode nodded nervously.

It didn’t take long before they encountered an extremely old, sturdy wooden door. Nobody stood guard, and they didn’t see any cameras or security devices. Instead, it seemed to be bolted from the inside. If the two had come equipped with a modern device to analyze and crack encryption keys, it would have left them stumped.

However, they had brought the lone remaining decomper. Terra pressed the clay on her waist against the center of the door and closed her eyes.

— Decompression .  Move the obstruction that’s tightly wedged in here somewhere far away.

Her consciousness flowed through the door, spread through a miniscule gap to the other side, and then brushed the bolt aside. Opening her eyes, she put both hands on the door and spoke to the girl beside her.

“Before we go in, Die-san, can I ask you one thing?”

“Hm?”

“We’re going to destroy the Tamatebako and rescue the decompers, but before we do, there’s something I want to ask Nurude-san. Could you let me talk to him, just for a minute?”

“I’m not opposed, but on one condition.” Diode looked up at her for a moment, then said, “No sacrificing yourself, blowing yourself up, or any suicide attacks like that. You’re not allowed. Because if something happens to you... what will I do then...? You know what I mean, right?”

“Yeah. You do know I wasn’t planning on it, right?” She put on a small, forced smile for Diode, then returned her hands to the huge door. “Let’s go...!!”

It was a sliding door. The two pushed the doors left and right with all their might, then stepped through.

“This is Terra Intercontinental and Diode! Nurude-san, we’re here for a chat!”

The man in the large mask and his black-garbed assistants, all gathered around a small shrine, turned in unison.

The walls circling the room’s perimeter towered overhead. They were lined with neat rows of meter-sized panels; in actuality, they were much closer to a shelf with drawers. The lower part of the cylindrical room had dozens of shelves stacked on one another, and one needed to look up to see all of the drawers. The cylinder’s axis was likely the rotational axis of Fuyō , if not the base ship’s center of gravity.

It was at the bottom of a place like that where the two confronted Nurude and his associates. For a moment, even the air conditioned breeze seemed to stop. Without a word, the 24 zuijin immediately leaped on the two and restrained them.

“Don’t touch me! I’m here to talk!” Terra said, resisting them. She took another look around. The women were nowhere in sight; she guessed they were already in the drawers.

Meanwhile, Nurude and his associates stood in the middle of the chamber, next to a small shrine made from fine wood. It was small, no larger than a pet house, but their guarding it undoubtedly meant it had to be extremely important. It had to be the heart of the room—as long as they hadn’t been paranoid enough to install a fake. In other words, the Tamatebako’s core.

“Nurude-san!” Terra shouted. “There’s just one thing I’d like to ask. You believe in the excellence of the Gendō, so why are you messing with the other clans? You could’ve gotten what you wanted just by taking Fuyō  to the Zugspitze system, so why didn’t you?”

Hearing that, Nurude raised a hand. The zuijin suddenly stopped moving.

“I was just pondering the reason a woman would show her face here... what kind of question is that?”

“I’m asking if you’re really aware of the secret behind AMC clay.”

“The secret...? What leads you to believe I know it?”

“After that fight settled, you mentioned the point wasn’t to exhaust the decompers. It was to exhaust their AMC clay, wasn’t it? Changing the clay into various weapons was to wear out its ability to decompress.”

“Your imagination is impressive. Ah, yes, I remember now. You must be Terra Intercontinental Endeavour—you are also known as Tell-Tale Terra, are you not?

“...Am I wrong?”

“Please, continue.”

As she realized that Nurude seemed strangely calm, the door behind the two closed again. It was likely to ensure the fishers were kept out.

“We know,” Terra started, using one of the aces up her sleeve, “that decompression isn’t just a human ability. It’s actually the clay’s  ability. It’s a counterintuitive phenomenon that occurs when the alien lifeform we call AMC clay receives our imagination and transforms—that’s what decomping is.”

“Perhaps we should have discussed this elsewhere,” Nurude said, looking around at his zuijin. They remained silent, but looked shaken. Most Circs wouldn’t have heard the idea that the clay itself, not besshu, was alive. “...No matter. I myself would have made that known before too long. We should have no issue continuing this discussion in front of these people. So, Terra-san, how did you happen to come across that information?”

“The Endeavour clan has old facilities of its own.” Okay, I’m not lying here —Terra nodded to herself. “I could have discovered this anywhere. My point is that the clay’s complicated, and has a way  bigger secret that we’re not seeing. All we’ve done is exploit the properties we’re aware of.”

“ Very  interesting.” Nurude gestured again, and the zuijin let go of Terra. “Let us discuss that in more detail at a later time. However, what of it? You have only stated what you know so far. What is it you want from me, then?”

“Finding someone who knows even this much is a rarity.” Terra confidently moved forward, and the zuijin at her sides voluntarily pulled back. “Nurude-san, you’re looking for an ally who understands the situation, aren’t you? The reason you and the very prideful Gendō people aren’t leaving by yourselves and are trying to drag the other clans along with you using the Tamatebako is for numbers, isn’t it? Not because you consider us your equals.”

“Well, you have not said anything wholly  incorrect. And what of it? What leads you to believe we seek allies?”

“Because the clay’s hard to handle. Even after 300 years, there are still plenty of besshu that are hard to catch. But what you’re going to fish for is a besshu we don’t know about. It might not even be a besshu at all, but some other clay lifeform. So, even though you’re going to another planet, you can’t let yourself be found at a disadvantage here.”

“Hm... I understand now. So, what you mean to say is...”

“Yes.” Terra made an expression like everything had been cleared up and bowed. “Would you be willing to work with me on a counterplan for the clay in the Zugspitze system?”

“I see—so that is your reason to come all the way here. I do not know your means of arrival, however.”

“That’s fine. May I ask your thoughts about my proposal?” Terra was already improvising to keep the conversation going, but she somehow managed to nod.

And then, she froze at what Nurude said next.

“Very well. If you are offering to enter the Manpresser yourself, then there are no objections on my end.”

“Man... what?”

“In order to hunt the clay, we must decomp. But those who decomp share the dreams of clay. Surely you did not fail to notice the enormity of that contradiction, no?” Through those tiny eye holes, Terra got the feeling that his real face, which she had still yet to see, was smiling. “I pray that you will fit.”

“WAI–”

Terra was seized at a sway of his hand, and this time her protests were futile. The zuijin carried her over to the highest of the shelves that surrounded them.

“Terra-san!” Diode shouted. She lunged out; more zuijin immediately grabbed her wrists and ankles. “Clown Chief Nurude, you bastard! Did you fry your brain cells or something?! Is the brain damage why you’re staggering around all over the place?! Let go of Terra-san!”

“My, such vulgarity.” A young zuijin pinned Diode’s arms behind her at the Clan Chief’s mere expression of displeasure. “It is not befitting of a proper Gendō girl. Your father can hear.”

“Father—what did you do to my harmless dimwitted father?!”

“What a queer way to refer to him. Is he important to you, or do you hate him? Either way, he is not in dire straits, he is simply over there.” Nurude pointed at a low shelf, about three rows off the floor. “In the Manpresser, also known as the Machine Compressor and Tamatebako. This machine, a legacy of the old Wǎngláiquān Fángjūn, is essentially harmless to upstanding individuals. Those who are capable of extremely basic tasks—pledging loyalty to superiors, waiting their turn when they wish to speak, keeping silent when ordered—come out completely unchanged after being placed inside. They remain calm, useful people.”

“This... damn...”

“It is not a ‘damn torture device shit out of hell’s trash disposal’. Ah, such harsh words... However, for the type of person who is entirely lost within their own muddled dreams day and night—a person who is not upright—it is not an easy place to stay.”

Diode had a sudden realization. “Then... this isn’t  a device to let you take full control and consolidate the fleet using each clan’s best decomper?”

“So that is what you thought this was. No, it is not. The Tamatebako works by placing the most disobedient decomper from each clan inside. When it recognizes the power of the exiles is weakened, it expands the full authority scope of the Great Chief. It is a verification device.”

“...Terra-san!”

Just as she was being shoved onto the Tamatebako’s bed, Terra heard Diode scream again.

“Die-sa–”

The bed rattled as it slipped into the darkness and stored Terra away. She thrashed her hands, terrified of the narrow space, but somehow they only clawed at a vast space in vain, touching nothing—

A large, warm hand suddenly caught hers.

“What...?”

“Okay, now open the net...”

She was greeted with a gentle smile. He had a genteel, shapely face, and stood as tall as she did. Lace adorned the neck and sleeves of his gorgeous deck dress. She couldn’t remember the man’s name anymore, but he had probably been the best of her former marriage prospects.

“You can open the net. Those are apple prawns.”

“R-right.”

The young man spoke cheerfully in his cockpit. Terra looked out at the surrounding sea of clouds, stared at the VUI display, and realized she was fishing.

I have to decomp. I have to cast the net. Apple prawns spread out a lot, so... ah, maybe I can wrap around them if I give the net more arms? And since they’re going to struggle, I’ll increase the number of otter boards to four—no, eight. Sixteen, maybe...?

“Do it normally,” the man said. “A two-arm tunnel net is just fine. Don’t worry about it, just do it normally. I’ll trawl.”

“Huh?”

The net’s unfurling couldn’t be stopped even if he asked it to. An eight-armed net flowed behind the boat. The sixteen cables that towed it spooled out with the otter boards one by one, and when the wind hit them, the net gracefully blossomed into the gas giant’s atmosphere like a giant flower two kilometers in diameter. The reins regulated its shape and maintained its uniformity. The beautiful geometric shape whirled, and it was so fun, so cool, so exciting—

Everything suddenly fell apart. She heard dejection in the young man’s voice.

“Why did you do that? It’s going to leak in the middle if we make a standard approach using that. Your net is... too complicated.”

“Oh... I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Let’s try again, but with just the two boards on the left and right, okay? This should be simple–”

A soft, but deep pain slowly impaled her. Even though she knew she should just do what she was told, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t.

“How did I end up in this situation?”

“I’m sorry... I really am...”

“You hate me, don’t you?”

“No, of course I don’t... You’re a wonderful person, really...”

Her companion wasn’t bad. He treated her normally—in fact, he treated her far more gently than what she was used to—but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t follow his directions.

All of this has to be my fault...  She wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes, looked up, and—

“Here.” A Stone State Storage was being shown to her. “It’s the Hundred Handsome Guys.”

“Huh?”

“There are a lot of good-looking guys here, so have a look. It’s a compilation of videos and still images from around the galaxy. Like this one.”

Terra’s co-worker Makia smiled as she sat at the neighboring viewer. She had a beautiful actor’s face pulled up.

“You don’t have a sense for the type of man you’re into, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you see a bunch of different guys.”

“Uh, well, I...”

“Really? You wouldn’t marry and actor? But yeah, this is about getting a clear sense of your inclinations. You might even find someone you didn’t expect to like!”

“But it’s not really a matter of looks... it’s just, men, you know...”

“If that’s the problem, then there are a few who aren’t  manly. Like this one, or... this one. Actually, since you’re putting it that way, doesn’t that mean you do  have a type? So what is it?”

“I still... just don’t know what I like yet.”

“You still don’t know something that important?!” Makia stood up and started scolding her. “What are you going to do from now on? Do you just want to play around on the job with that weirdo girl forever? You can’t! It’s about time you started taking this seriously! You do know how everyone feels about that, right?!”

“W-wait, I–”

“No, I’m not  going to wait. This isn’t something you need me to wait for, and you know it, don’t you? This is about you ! Damn it! I give up!”

“Makia...”

She didn’t turn around, even as Terra tried to apologize to her. Makia called out to someone else and left the room. It was worse than the experience with the fisherman. Terra couldn’t gracefully accept her coworker’s goodwill, and couldn’t express her own different ideas. She was still indecisive, a person with vague expectations and a lingering feeling nothing would go well. There was no way she could  think about anything important for the future.

Tears began to fall. She couldn’t hold them back anymore. Her own peculiarities, her muddled dreams of something that didn’t exist at FBB, caused friction with others. It made it so that both parties could hardly stand to be around each other. It was too much. She kept making herself see the things that made her suffer, even though she didn’t want to think about any of them. If only I didn’t have this power...

The world rocked, and suddenly Terra came back to her senses.

“Terra-san...!”

The tiniest crack opened above her. Dark blue eyes peeked through. Which meant the zuijin who had pinned Diode’s arms to her back—Chūya—had found an opening to toss her this way.

“Die-san!”

The crack closed. Terra could hear the sounds of a struggle, so the others must have caught up to her. It had been enough for Terra to reorient herself, though.

So  this is the Tamatebako! It was a device that searched its subjects’ memories for certain vulnerable moments—coercion, double binds, neglect, and so on—and made the subjects blame themselves. Now that she had snapped out of it, she could tell it was odd. She wasn’t particularly close with Makia, but she wasn’t the kind of person to say anything that cruel. Conversely, the young man from the marriage trial had been way  colder.

Besides, while she’d been through a number of painful experiences, none of them were because of decomping. Decomping had never once been a source of suffering for Terra, rather, it was what allowed her to breathe—her lifeline, the source of her blossoming. And, that girl was who made her realize it was an Essential Element.

“Die-san...!”

Her hands could touch the drawer’s ceiling now. She desperately tried to push her way out with her palms, but she could feel resistance from the outside—the zuijin must have been using their muscle to shove her back in.

“...You!!”

Her hands couldn’t find traction on the smooth ceiling, so there wasn’t much power from her pushing. There were five or six people clinging to the outside and pushing back, too. She pushed her hardest, just in case it was a battle of strength, but no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn’t budge—

She noticed the ceiling slowly drifting closer.

“Woah.”

For a moment, she was terrified. It looked like one of the ceiling traps used to crush intruders she often saw action Content, but it was something else. She tried to feel around behind her and noticed the space growing wider. The ceiling wasn’t moving towards her, she was moving towards the ceiling. She was being pressed against it with a steady force, almost like she was being pulled up with a crane she couldn’t see— No, that’s still not what it is!

Her body started sliding headfirst, and the bed rolled the same direction at the same time . The zuijin pushing from the outside couldn’t keep their hold on it and slowly fell away.

Falling...?   Right, I’m falling! —Everyone in the room came to the same conclusion almost simultaneously. Gravity had started being generated at some point.

Fuyō ’s rotation constantly generated centrifugally-simulated gravity. But the Axis Chamber, near the center of rotation, shouldn’t have felt it at all. Its design incorporated the fact that it was on the rotational axis. The people here had indeed been floating, and there had been no gravity inside.

Which meant the gravity being generated now was an abnormality. Terra and her bed, near the upper corner of the cylindrical room, slid and started to fall towards the chamber’s ceiling. The drawers to the left and right of her rattled and spilled open, tossing out the people inside.

Strangely, though, none of the beds on the other side of the room did the same. A couple of people had crawled out, but they had forced their way out. As soon as they let go, their beds slid back into the shelf.

Terra put her feet on the ceiling and looked up. Far overhead, the people and beds located in the lower sections fell to the floor one-by-one around the door she and Diode had come in through. It was as if the direction of gravity had switched from the floor to the ceiling. People who didn’t seem to be decompers were falling to the floor along with the fishers’ wives, where zuijin waited to round them up. It all happened on the floor above; to Terra, up and down seemed to be reversed.

No one was dead, as far as she could tell, but the situation was quickly getting out of hand.

Terra looked at a point on the floor above and shouted, “Nice work, Eda-san!”

Eda had made her grand move—using the Great Chief Command to adjust the center of rotation. Fuyō , that giant flower spinning on its north-south axis, first had its rotation zeroed out by the reverse thrusters on its outer circumference. The disappearance of gravity would cause a commotion in the urban districts, but the risk of it being noticed in the zero- g  axial section was low.

Terra had sent the signal to Eda to stop the rotation just after the first conflict between Nurude and the fishers first broke out, making it even less risky. The deafening noise of the giant base ship’s thrusters was masked under the din of the fighting. However, the braking generated a small amount of tangential acceleration, which was why everyone and everything had piled up against the wall.

By the time Terra and Diode made their grand entrance through the huge door, the whole of Fuyō , not just the Axis Chamber, was approaching zero- g . Nurude, the Clan Chief, should have been inundated in calls because of the situation, but since he seemed unaware, it meant Eda had also been successful in cutting their communication system.

Her final move was changing the rotational axis. Fuyō  was now rotating on an east-west axis—with reference to the Tamatebako, the cylindrical room no longer spun like a rolling pin, but pivoted around the middle rows of shelving like a propeller.

Once the rotation accelerated, it had pushed her bed out of its drawer, and the new artificial gravity kept her feet planted on the ceiling. Terra suspected it wouldn’t have been as easy to get out if she’d been on the opposite side of the room. It was simply a lucky win that she’d been on the side of the room that made it easier to get out of bed.

She wished the same could be said about the fact that she was standing on the ceiling.

“Hang on, Die-san...!”

The room was maybe 20 meters tall. It seemed Diode, who had been there only a moment before, had been returned to the floor right away. She was down there with the fishers’ wives, upside down, kicking and biting. However, nearly all of their clay weapons had been confiscated, so the fighting didn’t seem to be going in their favor—it wasn’t in their favor, but it was clear the brawl around the shrine at the Tamatebako’s core would be decisive to the outcome.

Terra couldn’t help them, so all she did was look up and cheer for them. Four of the zuijin who had been keeping her drawer closed stood beside her, but all they could do was look up and cheer too. It was a strange state of coexistence; a fight here would have no impact on the larger group. Since they seemed to share that understanding, neither Terra nor the zuijin messed with one another for the time being.

What changed things was the appearance of a certain person in the midst of the fray.

“Father, stop it! Stop the fighting!”

Everyone looked towards the source of the voice. A girl wearing a fletched kimono and hakama stood on top of the shrine. Nurude shouted.

“Meika! What are you doing?!”

“I said to stop this goddamn shit-ass useless fucking fight!”

“What kind of language is that? I thought you were a devoted daughter. Are you now turning your back on me? On the new future the Gendō are striving for?”

“My old man’s just an annoying old masked pervert!”

“Old–”

Nurude was speechless. Meika, her face pale, smiled and looked at Diode.

“Kanna-san! I never thought you would have come! I thought you had left the Gendō who had put you through all those terrible things behind and gone off somewhere.”

“Well, that’s the plan, anyway.”

“Yes, I know that you did not do this for my sake.” She looked around, frowned a little when she noticed the woman who resembled a lighthouse was nowhere in sight, then quickly looked back to Diode. “But even so, you still came! Even that is enough to satisfy me.”

“You’re welcome, but what are we going to do now?”

“We’re going to destroy it all, obviously! And then, maybe we can–”

Maybe we can push back against the unfair destiny that, until now, we had to surrender to and come to terms with —Meika didn’t say it, but Diode nodded. She seemed to be the only one who understood. Or, more precisely, there were two women who understood Meika.

Diode quickly accepted Meika as a turncoat, but then she suddenly looked down at Meika’s feet in confusion.

“And how are you going to do that?”

Meika blinked, looked down at the small hutch she was standing on, and with a foot clad only in a white tabi, kicked it with all her might.

“Ow, dammit !”

It didn’t do a thing. The hutch seemed old, but it was scarily sturdy. It seemed to be made with a dense metal that had been painted over.

The air returned to the room—whatever tension had been there was gone. The zuijin closed on her, with only one person, Chūya, remaining below at her feet. He guarded her back, but was clearly outnumbered. Just as they started to believe they were about to once again get swallowed by the turbulent current of previous events—

“Meika-saaaaaan!” the scream came crashing down from above.

Meika’s electric pink ribbon swayed as she looked up. Twenty meters above her, a woman stood upside down, hurled a thin, pale pink pole towards her as hard as she could.

“Use this!”

The pole drew a spiral as it passed through the center of the room. Meika instinctively raised her arm and the pole coiled around it. Their eyes met once more, and the Endeavour decomper nodded. Meika was sure she must have heard the shouting earlier. She wrapped both hands around the AMC clay. It wasn’t a standard decomp, but she got inspiration from the help of her temporary ally and the setting she was in.

— Squeeze out the old to let in the new.

“M-Meika, wait!”

Nurude threw off his wooden mask and witnessed a sight he had never seen before. His daughter smiling, sadly.

“You’re despicable.” Her hand dropped, and the alien lifeform eagerly took on the shape her imagination had given it. The thin, stretched clay coiled around the shrine again and again, then shattered it like an eggshell.

Five seconds later, Fuyō ’s boating system detected the Gendō base ship’s abnormal rotation and started its powerful braking so that it could repoint the flower’s style towards their star, a position it had maintained for 300 years.

“Look out!”

The many beds that had fallen from their shelves began to float again and drift in a different direction. Fragments of weapons broken in the conflict pelted faces and bodies. The base ship was decelerating and changing orientation, but for those inside, it was like being sucked into a tornado without wind. Since the direction of gravity, weak as it was, constantly changed, everything flew around the room in an unpredictable way, striking people from their blind spots.

“Die-san!”

Terra aimed for the floor and jumped off the ceiling of the twenty-meter tall room. The moment she did, though, something collided with her back and sent her tumbling sideways. When she turned around, she saw it had been a zuijin, but he had collided with a bed and was now drifting away.

She tried to spot Diode again but couldn’t find her. More than fifty people squirmed as they floated among the debris. “Die-saaaan...!”

Suddenly, her search was interrupted by a miniature woman in a lab coat appearing on the back of her hand.

“Terra-kun, there’s a little something I need to tell you.”

“Eda-san? I’m kinda busy right now!”

“Yeah, I know. So just listen while you do your thing. Anyway, the Tamatebako system was killed safely, and I tried to hand control back to the boating system. Buuut it seems that’s not a function I can hand back.”

“What?! What do you mean?”

“Fuyō’s boating system, which is to say the reason this base ship keeps rolling end over end, can’t handle the ship properly. It is  300 years old, created when Fuyō  was just a cargo ship. So now, the little guy is freaking out and if this keeps up, there’s a chance it’s going to disintegrate in orbit.”

“Disintegrate in orbit?! That’s really serious, isn’t it?!”

“Yup! So, I think I’ll try flying manually instead of leaving it to the boating system. This is happening because I stopped the rotation. You good with that?”

“You’re going to fly instead of the boating system...?” She tried taking a moment to think about it, but a ceramic panel or something popped off the wall and whizzed past her face. “Y-Yeah! Please do something!”

“Okay, well that’s that.”

Knowing the situation was that dire made Terra even more concerned for Diode. She had carelessly replied to Eda and started moving forward again under pressure. Then, after a few moments, she thought of something.

“Eda-san, but what about the Insomnia ?” There was no response. Terra had a faint feeling of understanding. “Then–”

“Terra-san, look out!”

Unexpectedly, Terra heard a voice behind her. Before she could turn around, she was sent tumbling by something striking her shoulder, then immediately heard a bang. When she turned around, she saw a bed drift by and a small, spinning figure splayed out backwards.

“Huh?” For a moment, Terra felt relief and sympathy that it had been a stranger who had gotten in an accident.

Then the illusion faded, leaving her in the cold, tight grip of reality. Terra screamed over and over as she struggled to swim through the air.  

Epilogue

“Ah, so her life isn’t in danger?”

Pri, calling in from Table of Johor on the VUI screen, was visibly relieved. Terra returned the smile.

“Yeah. I was worried earlier, but she’s already standing up and talking normally.”

“That’s a relief. I mean it, I really do. By the way, we’re discussing how to handle your situation here, so just relax and focus on her recovery.”

“You mean like, cancelling our debt? Or covering her medical expenses?”

“Ah, no, I meant an extension of your no-interest period and your housewarming once you return to Johor , that kind of thing!”

Pri cheerfully offered Terra services that wouldn’t break the bank. I’m sure she thinks she’s being totally helpful, but she’s a Trades through and through , Terra thought.

Once they finished chatting, Terra got out of the empty control pit and disembarked from the pillar boat. Inboard and outboard workers were hard at work restoring one of the heavily damaged sections of the pier. She made her way through, attracting so much attention that she hardly could have attracted any more by singing out loud. The official monitoring the exits at entry/departure control didn’t just stare at her, but tried peeking past her shoulder.

“You’re alone? Where’s your husband?”

“I’m by myself. Uh, I mentioned that when I was let in, didn’t I?”

“This is a harbor, so it’s not unusual for a party’s size to change between entering and exiting. So, what brings you here again?”

“I also said that when I... Never mind. I had an interclan communication. I couldn’t connect when I tried using my minicell in town.”

“Well, yes. Why did you think it would...?” The officer, a woman, looked up at her in confusion.

Terra was about to respond but held her tongue. The woman’s confusion made perfect sense to her.

Ships belonging to other clans came and went, disembarking rescue teams, logistics workers, administrators, and the like onto the pier, which had barely begun reconstruction. More than 500 staffers had entered Fuyō  since the Tamatebako Incident ten days earlier. The beginning of the influx from outside clans seemed almost instantaneous after a long period of relative isolation.

As Terra looked out at the scene through the window of a zero-gravity corridor, she had a sudden thought— Will this really be what sets the Gendō on the path to becoming more open? Okay, no, it doesn’t work like that. Things don’t go that smoothly. Besides, in the first place, others being allowed in won’t necessarily make the people here  any happier. People usually prefer the places they live to get nicer while still having a place to themselves. I’m sure this sight will be a one-off deal...  She kept thinking about it as she left the pedicel port behind.

⠀

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

⠀

The Tamatebako Incident, as it came to be known, had shaken every Circ, not just the Gendō clan. It was ended by a group of fishers associated with the Bow Awow. The 15 fishers and their wives, led by the ranking fishers of the D&D and Keelung clans, had first curried favor with the Gendō by making a big catch via climb fishing for koi under their supervision, then skillfully infiltrated the base ship’s core. After a tenacious fight, they subdued Clan Chief Nurude and the faction carrying out his lunatic scheme.

During the incident, a young man—a zuijin who previously followed absurd orders—turned against the Clan Chief for the greater good of the clan. Powerful outsiders had also picked up on the outcome of the conflict and quickly intervened to rescue Fuyō .

However, it was a formerly renowned man who stood out the most in the incident. He had given up his privileged position, and in his unwavering opposition to Nurude, devised an unconventional and effective plan to overthrow the Clan Chief who had barricaded himself away with hostages. He struck at the climax of the incident by manipulating Fuyō’s  center of rotation, guiding the fishers to victory.

The downside of manipulating the center of rotation was that several buildings in town had collapsed and injured people. However, he rallied Gendō across social lines, and with the collaboration of the fishers, managed to contain the short-lived chaos in Fuyō . The influential and pragmatically-minded Ungaku family, which later supplanted Nurude’s Keiwaku family, set about bringing the situation under control. That man—Ozuno Ishidōrō Gendō—handed command over to the Ungaku without hesitation and declared he was returning to his research.

While it didn’t gather him any support as a candidate for the next Clan Chief, many were of the opinion that his actions were the decisive factor in the incident’s outcome.

⠀

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

⠀

“...Or at least, this explainer published by the QOT went something like that. What are you playing at?” Diode, sitting in pajamafoam in her hospital bed, pointed at the minicell projection at the center of the room and demanded an explanation from Ozuno, who sat in a chair beside her. He shrugged with his hands.

“That’s a strange question. I have no say in what other clans decide to write and publish. Ask the writer or their AI.”

“I’m asking my wily, bickering father why he decided now  was the time to stand out, play an active role, and get the hero treatment!”

“How would I know? I’m not some hero. I never once planned on becoming one. That article doesn’t reflect reality, for starters.”

“...Doesn’t reflect reality?”

“That’s right.” Ozuno gave her a slight smile and continued, “Once I was detained, I was asleep inside the box. I had nothing to do with manipulating the center of rotation. And even after I got tossed out, I only confirmed the obvious in a brief discussion with the fishers.”

“But I believe they used your confirmation to avoid having the situation drag out endlessly,” Terra cut in. “Because I don’t think either side would have ended this on their own if other Gendō families had barged in or the fishers recovered their pillar boats and started fighting. They also would have ignored the casualties in town.”

“You’re overestimating me. I’m sure someone else would have stepped in if things ended up that way.” Ozuno shook his head.

Before she grumpily fell quiet, Diode hummed and said, “...So that’s how it is, huh?”

It made Terra anxious, so she forced a smile to bear with it.

They were in a hospital located in the Typhoon Palace. Diode had been carried into the hospital after taking a blow to the head during the Tamatebako Incident. While she wanted to be discharged since she’d regained consciousness relatively quickly, neither the human nor machine doctors allowed it. The doctors remained unconvinced by her exam results, and even though they’d performed three full body scans in ten days, they had come to the conclusion this morning that there was an equipment malfunction.

That annoyed Diode to no end, but Terra thought her ongoing hospitalization wasn’t all bad—in the ten days of chaos that followed, Diode needed to remain hidden anyway. Terra was grateful to be in here with Ozuno’s assistance.

Ozuno had his hands full managing the mess for three full days while his daughter was hospitalized, and not being able to look after her seemed to be eating away at him. So by the time he visited on day four, he was extremely worried. Diode still couldn’t move, and his overthinking was reaching the point of him becoming a nuisance. But on the fifth day, when he realized that Terra was handling caretaking duties, he stepped back and simply observed. Today marked day ten of Diode’s hospitalization.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Ozuno said, before leaning in front of a visibly annoyed Diode. He squinted when he noticed there were no bloodstains on the wound pads covering the left side of her forehead. “Looks like all’s good now.”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“I was horrified when I first saw that injury.”

“I was just bleeding. Forehead wounds tend to be especially bloody. Not that I remember anything.”

That moment of brief calm between a daughter nodding to her smiling father quickly passed.

“I’m relieved, though. If you’d ended up with a major injury because I called you back, I couldn’t bear to show my face in public anymore.”

“I didn’t come because you called me, though.”

“But you did  see that Stone State Storage I gave you, no?” Ozuno asked calmly, then looked at the two with fading confidence. “Wait. You didn’t?”

“No, I saw it...” Diode grudgingly admitted. “Then, was our coming back your goal when you gave it to us?”

“It wasn’t necessarily my goal . If anything, I wanted to make sure you understood what you were getting into, and if you two came back, all the better. But it would have been preferable for you to come back because of the Stone State Storage and not because you got dragged into all this nonsense, you know?”

“After seeing it, I wouldn’t have felt like coming back either way!” Diode’s voice rose again. “We wanted to know things about the Galactive Interactive, like which star systems would have good job prospects and be easy to live in, or planets with nice scenery, or fun stations with delicious delicacies! We didn’t want to read the specifics of that travesty of an exile plan our ancestors were put through while we were in a good mood!”

“Everyone has moments when they don’t want to do things like read through horrific documents. That’s normal. So, Kanna, you should at least be happy that you read it when you were in a state you could deal with it! Hahaha!”

“Stuff it...!”

Diode only threw a pillow at Ozuno’s face when he laughed, so Terra didn’t bother stepping in. The pillow gently rolled down to reveal a considerable curve to the boyish man’s neck. He grumbled in pain as he stretched his neck, which seemed to do the trick. Terra relaxed and picked up the pillow.

“To be honest, it does bother me a bit.”

“What does, Terra-san?”

“Knowing what we do now about the Galactive Interactive, I’m not sure if we can expect much from it anymore. Here, Die-san.” She handed the pillow back and looked at Ozuno. “Is it really that awful over there? We were told decompers are persecuted and that the clay is going wild...”

“Hrm. You still want to go, even now?”

“I mean–”

Terra casually locked eyes with Diode and nodded. Ozuno folded his arms and looked up at the ceiling.

“I’m aware I’m asking in vain, but... Kanna, Terra-san, would you be interested in having kids and raising them here in Fuyō ?”

“Hah?” Diode’s mouth opened like she was ready to bite.

Intimidated, Ozuno immediately continued. “No, you see, the Ungaku family is a lot more broad-minded than what we had, so I believe things will become more permissive! You saw the news yourselves just now, beginning today access to other clans is unlocked. Is that an option?”

“We. Are. NOT. Doing. That!” Diode made sure he felt the full force of each word.

Terra agreed with her from the sidelines, but more calmly. “No, we won’t. I wouldn’t exactly call it permissive, either...”

“You think so? Have a look at this, then.”

Ozuno readily conceded and booted up his minicell to project a text and image structure into the space over Diode’s bed. It was yet another document of some kind.

“What’s that?”

“A classified document Nurude was keeping to himself. He received it from the Dàxúnniǎo when it last visited, and us researchers finally got our hands on the reason he ended up like he did. It’s very  interesting.”

“...Oh?”

Both were at full attention, and for the first time today were hearing something genuinely interesting.

“According to this document, it appears the Zugspitze star system really is being damaged by the clay. They’re having difficulty managing it, so they requested we try fishing there. There aren’t any indications they’re attempting to defraud, coerce, or discriminate against us.”

“...You’re giving us good news, right...?”

“That’s not all, either. They also put in writing that if the experimental fishing was successful, they would consider ending the Circs’ exile and allow us to come and go freely. Well? Very good, isn’t it?”

“It is! It’s so good that it’s making me anxious. You want us to take that offer?” Terra asked, although she agreed it was good.

“No, wait, before that–” Diode interrupted. “If this has nothing but upsides, then why did Nurude hide it? Couldn’t he have avoided a confrontation altogether if he’d gone public with the original document?”

“Maybe. But don’t you think keeping it a secret was so he could claim it as a fait accompli?”

“Yeah...”

“Nurude’s the type of man to place so much value in the Gendō having ancient, noble origins that it’s pathetic. He wanted our clan to lead at all costs, even if it made his own plans more difficult.”

“Good thing this all got squashed, then.”

The father and his daughter both nodded with looks of total disinterest.

“Anyway, the other interesting part was this.” Ozuno pulled up a different document. “We were actually sent two  documents.”

“Two?”

“Yes. The Fángjūn sent the first one. The second one was sent by people calling themselves the Yǔnshāmén.”

“Who are they?”

“No clue.” Ozuno’s expression hovered between curiosity and anxiety. “Yǔn-shā-mén (<隕・沙・門) uses the same ancient characters as Gendō, but they’re read differently. It’s the standard reading on every planet, it seems. Apparently it’s a civilian organization, and it means... a group of micrometeorites...? I guess? I wonder what kind of people they really are.”

“And what did their letter say? It didn’thave any indications they were trying to defraud, coerce, or discriminate against us, either?”

“You can’t read it, Kanna? Oh right, you never were good with desk learning.”

“Knock it off and just read it already, oh unpleasant and annoying father!”

“I don’t think there is,” Terra said, intruding on their bickering. She had received the file on her own minicell and quickly skimmed through it. “The most likely of those options is a scam, but it doesn’t have the careless spelling or phrasing of one, and it’s not lacking for design or polish... if you want my opinion.”

“You can tell?” Diode asked, then nodded slightly to herself. “Right, you are good at that kind of thing...”

“It’s less that I’m able to determine its veracity, and more that I have a skill for identifying which era it belongs to.” Terra smiled back at her.

“Hmm...” Ozuno looked at the two, then asked, “So which of the two will you contact?”

“We have a third option—neither of them! Because, you see, we have a ship!” Diode replied, looking composed.

Terra nodded. “We want to collect more information, and if that means we have to go there to learn more first, then we want to go.”

“Seriously, you two...” Ozuno stood. “Do whatever you want.”

He left, and as Terra began picking up the small items around the bed, she asked, “Die-san, why do you  think your father came today?”

“To be his usual annoying self, obviously.”

“That’s not why. He probably came to say a few final words.”

Diode blinked. She looked up at the ceiling, laid back, hummed, then slowly nodded.

⠀

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

⠀

Many people saw Terra and Diode during the climax of the Tamatebako Incident. The two had gone into hiding at the hospital, but it wasn’t possible to remain completely off the radar—after nearly three days, the D&D and Keelung fishers came to visit. They wanted to know the pair’s intentions.

“We just wanted to put a stop to Nurude-san’s brazen behavior. We only disguised ourselves because we thought a pair of women showing up would confuse everyone, that’s all. We didn’t intend to trick anyone or humiliate them. We have no intention of claiming to be the ones who took Nurude down, either.”

Diode was still unconscious, so Terra handled the talking on her own. The fishers hesitantly accepted credit for the pair’s achievements, but more as a favor to her. Terra was glad they did, but there was still another question left to settle.

“But what about that new fishing method, koi climbing? You’re not attaching your name to it?”

“I think you should just treat it as the real Salinzone-san’s idea...”

“His idea? What really happened, then? Did he come up with it and you two just put it into action?”

This was an appropriately weighty question, so Terra wasn’t sure of how to answer for a little while. Salinzone had nothing to do with it, and she really  wanted to revel in her own feat by proudly saying she and her partner had accomplished it together.

Still, the fishers found it easier to accept a feat by a man they were already acquainted with than something Terra and Diode had done. If, as a temporary solution, Terra confirmed it was his idea, it would embarrass him and his wife later on since there was no way he’d be able to reproduce it. But even then, giving him credit was likely the right choice. She’d hand over the victory crown without a fuss, then quietly watch and laugh from the shadows. She was leaving anyway, so it wasn’t her problem.

And so, with that in mind, Terra replied, “...No, that was a technique my partner Diode-san and I developed! We did get a hint from the Trades’ laboratory, but it was our idea beyond any shadow of a doubt!”

If Diode was here...

That was definitely what she would have made Terra say, so she proudly puffed out her ample chest and said it exactly how Diode would have said it.

The fishers looked astonished. Making things worse, the second-ranked Endeavour fishers were also present. To the Endeavours, Terra was a criminal ship jumper. They reminded her that she was wanted by the clan, and even told her they were prepared to take her into custody on the spot.

What spared her was the timely arrival of Stanley, a high-ranking Bow Awow inspector. Once he learned of the immense chaos the Tamatebako Incident had inflicted on Fuyō, he felt it was beyond his subordinate Pri’s ability to handle and he departed alone from Table of Johor  on the second day. He had arrived at port not long before, and when he learned of the fishers’ whereabouts, he managed to involve himself in their discussion.

After learning of Terra and Diode’s circumstances, he intervened by disclosing the request he had made to them, which for better or worse, instantly settled the matter.

And so, with the fishers’ feat being reported through the QOT clan’s explainer article, the two were able to remain in a gray area for a few more days.

⠀

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

⠀

After about half an hour, Terra finished packing two bags. She was dressed in local garb she could obtain with relative ease from the Typhoon Palace—meaning, a fletched kimono and hakama. She shook Diode, who was nodding off in bed.

“Die-san, wake up.”

“Mghya.”

“We’ve gotta go, now.”

“...Got it.”

After Diode got up, Terra tore off the foam pajamas that patients used and slipped her into a kimono that matched the one she wore. Her selection criteria appeared to have hit the mark.

“Have you grabbed everything? Is your injury bothering you? Need to use the bathroom?”

“All systems go. What about you, Terra-san? You’re okay leaving like this?”

“What? What do you mean?” She frowned, then thought about it. “Oh, do you mean the debt I owe to the Trades? I think we’re gonna have to skip out on paying the tab.”

“You didn’t strike me as the type.”

“I don’t want  to, but we kinda have to, right?”

“Well, the debt’s whatever, but...” Diode restlessly worked to finish dressing herself and tie her obi. “Did you reply to that girl? The one who messaged you?”

“...Ahh, Kaly.”

The mail she had received a few days ago was text only, so it took her a while to remember the person behind the name Kalyana. The girl, the daughter of the Clan Chief’s wife Pohi, had sent a message to Terra asking if she was safe and what would happen to her, even though she had no clue as to Terra’s whereabouts. Hearing the news around Terra and Diode’s previous escape from Fuyō  had prompted Kaly to message her. Kalyana imagined the worst after hearing Terra’s name mentioned in the news about the accidental explosion and couldn’t cope with the worry.

“I’m happy she messaged me, but... I don’t know...”

“What’s wrong?”

“Given our situation, I’m not sure I should be talking to a younger girl.”

“Even though you had the courage to act so smug about managing to fish with older men?”

“That’s a lot different, isn’t it? This is more like protecting a weaker friend in a fight against a stronger opponent.”

“Thinking about it that way’s questionable too, though.” Diode said, then got off the bed and started straightening her sleeves and collar. “What if you thought about it as saving a girl, then?”

“You, you mean?”

“I’m not talking about me.”

“Then...?”

Terra brought her face close to Diode’s, but the girl turned around for some reason.

“Well, whatever. If you want to tell her about how you’re doing without feeling self-satisfied, then wouldn’t ‘I’m okay, I hope you’re well too’ work just fine?”

“Really? I see.”

Terra quickly set a message to be sent with a day’s delay on her minicell, and while she was at it, cued up similarly short messages to her aunt and uncle.

“Okay, done.”

“Shall we get going, then?”

“Yeah.”

The two took one last look at the room from the door. One one side of the room, a window boldly faced into their star in accordance with Fuyō’s  standard design. Since only a few days had passed, it was a hospital room neither of them had any attachment to. But, at least it was  a Circ room.

When they went out into the corridor, they bumped into a human nurse.

“Oh, you’re leaving? Did you get permission from the hospital system’s doctor?”

“I didn’t get permission for anything,” Diode said, flashing a smile at her. “But we’re leaving. Thank you.”

“Wait, you can’t–”

“Giddyup!”

Diode slapped Terra’s butt and took off running. Terra shrieked and jumped, then started running, too. As she did, she bowed her head and apologized to the dumbfounded nurse.

“I’m sorryyyyy! I promise this’ll be the last time we ever cause trouble for you!”

The two fled through the Typhoon Palace’s main street and towards the central lift.

⠀

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

⠀

Of course, while the timing of Stanley’s appearance had been impeccable, he wasn’t there to rescue Terra. His main objective was offering relief for Fuyō  to prevent it from falling into a state of anarchy. Thankfully, Ozuno’s coordination with the Ungaku family prevented the situation from disintegrating into total chaos, but the Gendō couldn’t fully settle the situation internally—there was the question of how to handle Nurude.

Fuyō’ s Council of Elders claimed Nurude Shikiriyōni’s status as Clan Chief had been revoked after his terrorist act of causing a fleet-wide power outage. Their records had been modified to say so, but in the end, whether they were lying or not wasn’t Stanley’s concern. His main business was, using the authority vested in him by the Bow Awow, to capture the main offender, bring him to justice, and settle the current incident with a view towards preventing its recurrence. Since he was following up on an already unimaginable occurrence—a group of Bow Awow fishers forcing its way into Fuyō —the Gendō clan could be held in check. It gave them the ability to outright take Nurude back with them in a day or two, without the need for any hasty decisions.

On another day, meaning once the Ungaku family and Stanley had finished making adjustments, Nurude was brought into the Circ courtroom again. His position was that up until he was deposed, he had been acting under the supervision of the Ungaku family, carefully concealed by a balance of Fuyō ’s social codes and historical traditions.

His daughter, Meika, remained conspicuously free. Before attention fell on her, it was her zuijin Chūya who was in the spotlight. He was a young, skilled twister who, although having carried out the Clan Chief’s absurd orders, turned against him for the sake of his clan and suppressed the mayhem while it was still unfolding. That act alone was enough to massively boost his reputation, but information later leaked from some source or another made it widely known he had even secretly saved the Clan Chief’s daughter. Additionally, this leak—still unconfirmed—stated that at the height of the fighting with the Bow Awow fishers, it was the Clan Chief’s daughter who had destroyed the Tamatebako’s core. While there was debate over whether or not this story was mere rumor, the two grew even more popular.

It was what left Meika Shikiriyōni Keiwaku in a position where she could walk around in public. She was busy handling the Keiwaku family’s internal and external business in place of her father, who was under house arrest, and her mother, who fully dedicated herself to housekeeping work.

The Keiwaku had lost their power, however, and it was almost as if it had never had it in the first place. Even the Gendō formerly delegated to residences in other base ships had been at their service, but the Keiwaku could no longer expect that. Nearly all of the zuijin employed by the Bureau of Protocol, who were treated as personal servants, had disappeared. Not observable from the outside were the foreign residents (most of whom freeloaded off of other Gendō families) who had written letters to Meika, expressing interest in her as a potential wife. Those letters no longer arrived, their feelings having completely flipped.

The sentiments that rained down on Meika’s black hair, especially those of the Gendō clan’s families, were that even if she were to marry her zuijin of lower standing, their child would certainly return the Keiwaku family to prominence.

⠀

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

⠀

The fishbone cargo ship that looked halfway to the scrapyard had been moved to a corner of the huge pressurized storage facility tucked away in a corner of the pedicel port on Fuyō ’s south face.

A voice called out to two figures—one big and one small—who were attempting to open the door to its airlock.

“Where are you going, Kanna-san and Terra-san?”

The two turned around and saw a girl loosen her midnight black hair and start slowly floating towards them.

“None of your business.”

“Oh? Perhaps you should reconsider the way you’re speaking to me.”

“I know you’re the one behind this, aren’t you?” Diode pointed at a lump of clay glued tightly to the Insomnia ’s outer hatch lock. “We can’t get in unless it’s taken off, and if we take it off it’ll alert you. You locked it with a stupid piece of awful clay.”

“Indeed, you are correct, but it doesn’t need to be removed. I am notified if anyone even approaches.”

“You poison blender bitch !”

“I missed your insults. They have not changed one bit... but now, I have nothing.” Meika whispered the same thing she told Diode on arrival, but this time with a much more bittersweet tone. “The Ungaku, in their gentleness, have stripped me of everything. The zuijin who used to be at my beck and call have scattered, and now I am even subject to a fishing restriction... the only thing left to me is the sight of you.”

She extended a hand, as if pleading. “Won’t you please tell me what it is you are doing?”

It made Diode frown, but still, she looked at Terra, who nodded to her.

“She’s pretty much already got it figured out, anyway.”

“...We’re going to Zugspitze, Meika,” Diode whispered. “There’s a Guāngguànhuán Drive.”

“I knew it.” Meika wore a faint smile. “I thought the outside of this ship was a clay imitation hiding an old, fast ship inside—stop this, won’t you?”

“No way, this idea of having kids we don’t want together gives me the willies.”

“But what if I said it was for the sake of our opposing this stupid, primitive system in solidarity, then?”

Diode, who was unwillingly conversing, and Terra, who was merely listening, both had their eyes shoot wide open.

Meika looked towards the plain, inconspicuous Insomnia , then around the huge base ship’s storage facility.

“Women cast nets and bear children, so even when we develop a fishing method, it goes unrecognized—and men who cast nets have to hide in shame. Would you destroy this antiquated world— this ship —at my side, Kanna-san?”

“Meika...”

“And you as well, Terra-san.” She gently floated over and placed a hand on Terra’s shoulder. “You are our ally, are you not? Won’t you lend us a hand? You seem so dependable...”

“No, I... uh...”

Meika’s proposal was bold and direct. Terra couldn’t give her a straight answer, so she averted her eyes and responded with a question of her own.

“What if it was the other way around instead... and you left together with us?”

“Terra-san?!”

“My, my, are you inviting me along?” Despite Diode’s surprise, Meika shook her head. “That is a wonderful proposal, but... are you aware of the substance of yesterday’s Bow Awow transmission, Terra-san? They were discussing the question posed by former Clan Chief Nurude. What do you believe it is that most interests the clans?”

“Bow Awow transmission? No, I didn’t really listen–”

“It was whether another Tamatebako exists. It has become a matter of urgency to determine whether a device that can be used to coerce other clans exists or not, and to that end, they are carrying out a maximum priority investigation. They are ostensibly working to reduce danger, but their true motives are plain as day—they believe there will be trouble if others have it, so they are hoping they have one, too.” Meika giggled, as if she found it all amusing, then took a breath and continued. “Is it true that we Circs are exiles? What about the nearby star system under attack by clay lifeforms? Do we have any interstellar spaceships? And more importantly, just what is  decomping? Not a siiiiingle person said a word on those topics! None of those chickens have an iota of courage in addressing matters of actual importance. The Bow Awow is simply a bunch of old fogeys who believe they can solve a crisis by shoving their heads in the sand like an ostrich! Hilarious, really!”

“All but two.”

“What?”

“There were two,” Diode corrected. “Two Elders mentioned those things. A Trades and a Nuer, I think...? They suggested raising the question with the next Dàxúnniǎo,  but they were simply brushed off.”

“So you did listen,” Meika’s tone softened, aware she had been caught in a lie. “But still, that means they are not very interested—Terra-san, you understand that, do you not? It is very easy to say you are going to leave, but it means bringing a bunch of foot-draggers along with you. You are aware of that, right? It would be easier to–”

“Um, sorry, but...” Terra interrupted her, even though she felt bad doing it. “That’s not what’s happening here.”

“What?”

“We’re not doing this for other people’s sake, or to act as scouts for the Circs. What we’re doing—Die-san and I—is throwing everything away and running off.”

Terra remembered Ozuno’s tone in their earlier conversation sounded somewhat like he was entrusting them to act as some sort of fact-finding team, but that wasn’t their focus—reflecting on it made her feel like kicking herself, so she did.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but... we’re really just setting out on an irresponsible journey.”

“What...? But, it’s not like you are setting out to die?” Meika asked, shaken. “Are you not going to inform your clan when you return?”

“Let me put it this way instead... what makes you think we’re coming back? Because where we’re headed—” Her next words came with no pause. “We have no idea whether it’s a good or bad place. There’s no guarantee that we’ll be welcomed by humans. Not just that, we don’t know if oxygen or water will be available. We’re taking this ship on a one-way journey into the unknown.”

“Now you’ve gone and said it...” Diode sighed.

“I sure did.” Terra smiled at her bitterly.

“You two...? A one-way trip? That’s...” Meika looked at them in disbelief.

Diode quietly cleared her throat, and pointing at Terra, told Meika, “Well, I guess you could call it that.”

“...Gh!” Meika grit her teeth, raised her hand slightly, and—

“Kanna-sama, Terra-san, run...!”

Chūya came rushing out of a corridor and pointed above Terra and Diode. Ranju had come along with him.

“Meika-sama, you mustn’t!”

Hearing him, the two looked up to see the huge crane for moving ships had already been positioned above the Insomnia  and was opening its claws. Terra hastily remolded the clay blocking the outer hatch to remove it, then threw Diode and their luggage into the airlock.

“Wait! Wait, please...!”

Despite her shouting, they weren’t worried about her jumping in behind them. They waved goodbye to Meika and closed the hatch.

“...Is this ship a model with a control pit?” Diode asked.

“No, it’s an old model operated by a crew. I did secretly stow our two pits inside, though.” Terra replied, then stepped through the open interior hatch. “Eda-san, are you here?”

As she called for Eda, she climbed up to the bridge, where the radial arrangement of seats was located. They were empty. The lights of the boating system display were on, but she received no reply from it, nor from her minicell.

“Looks like she’s not here,” Diode said, following behind her.

“Your seat’s over there, Die-san.” Terra pointed to the captain’s seat in the middle, then sat down at the first-mate’s navigation seat. “I guess Eda-san is giving it her all with Fuyō .”

“Meaning, what you told me about her manually flying in place of the ship’s boating system? Was she the type to do that?”

“Yeah.” Terra felt her chest tighten thinking of the original Eda’s job 300 years ago. “And just when she’d gotten another chance, too...”

“Should we wait on her?”

Just as Diode asked that, they heard a chime. A single sentence appeared on the display.

“...A data connection to Fuyō ’s fishing officer?”

Displayed were the indispensable official departure request for Insomnia , their departure permit, and a notification they were approaching the medium-sized boating airlock. Terra laughed.

“It’s like she’s telling us to get going.”

“And we can do it without blowing shit up thanks to her.”

The two saw Meika was attempting to slip away from Chūya and Ranju, who had her arms pinned behind her back, through the external cameras as they entered the airlock. Diode’s eyes restlessly scanned over control systems she was seeing for the very first time as she made adjustments to thrusters by quadrant and pulsed them gently to get a handle on their idiosyncrasies. As she practiced, the base ship seemed to have finished sucking the air back in and released the external door. The remaining air vented out into the vacuum of space alongside them.

They changed course with the low-velocity jets, passed by the uncouth port cannon, and headed beyond the anti-debris hull. The whirls of Fat Beach Ball hung over their left, while the fixed star Mother Beach Ball glowed faintly in jet black space to their right.

“How is it, Die-san? Do you think you can handle this ship?”

“Well, it’s not bad for a 300-year-old junk heap. Can you handle navigating to our destination and the procedure to activate the Guāngguànhuán drive?”

“I’ve already taken care of navigation, but apparently we just have to press a button. It is  an escape ship, so...”

“I see.”

Terra floated from her seat and groaned as she gracefully stretched her tall figure. Diode, seeing that, began rolling her shoulders.

“So this is finally happening...”

“Yeah, we’ve gotten this far!”

Terra jumped towards the captain’s seat and snuggled her golden head into the silver hair, which even now had that faint, bittersweet scent. The girl wrapped her slender arms around Terra’s neck and immediately pulled herself close, then looked at the navigation details before turning to the sea of clouds they had known all their lives.

“Now, let’s make our choice. You decide—do we stay here where it somehow all might work out if we try our damndest to put up with it, or do we risk atomizing ourselves the moment we make the jump to a place we don’t know a damn thing about?”

Terra pointed at the planet’s horizon. “I thought the fried shrimp-like back at Johor was kinda tasty...”

“So off we go, then.”

“Noooo! I was kidding!”

The two pressed the absurdly conspicuous red button.

The Guāngguànhuán interstellar travel drive activated. Four protruding blades on the stern, marking the diameter of a ring, opened a hole in space and maintained it. They could only observe the hole when it passed in front of background objects, and once the gravitational potential between their present location and destination equalized, the two scenes were layered on top of one another.

The Insomnia turned into a small particle of light and disappeared into a whirling hole. Indeed, a payment of sorts was to be made when their mass ejected at their destination in two weeks’ time, but by then that payment would be beyond human sensation. When people spent a part of themselves they weren’t even aware of to navigate, they had no hesitation in doing so.

Swallowing light, the sphere’s contours glowed faintly before extinguishing completely.

Translator Notes

The setting of Twinstar Cyclone Runaway contains a number of terms derived from Mandarin Chinese and English. Where the Chinese terms are used, we used the Hanyu Pinyin transliteration rather than the provided katakana reading to help preserve those words' sense of foreignness within the setting. English terms, like Galactive Interactive, were adopted from the provided romaji readings.

On The Harvesting Ship

1.1

Minicell

The reading given to 小型通信端末 (こがたつうしんたんまつ, kogata tsūshin tanmatsu), or “miniature telecommunication terminal.”

Pemmican

The reading given to 宇宙食缶 (うちゅうしょくかん, uchū shokukan), or “canned space food.”

Wǎngláiquān Fángjūn

The reading given to 往来圏防軍 (おうらいけんぼうぐん, ōraiken bōgun), or “traffic defense guard.” Often simply called Fángjūn, they are the space force responsible for maintaining peace within the territory of the Galactive Interactive (汎銀河往来圏). The kanji rendering of Galactive Interactive is read as Fànyínhé Wǎngláiquān in Chinese, and Hanginga Ōraiken in Japanese. It translates to “Pan-Galactic Traffic Sphere.”

1.2

Midnight Blue and Electric Pink

Meika’s hair is described as being 深宙色 (しんちゅういろ, shinchū iro) or “deep space color”, which was also given a reading of sky black (スカイブラック, sukai burakku). Her ribbon is described as 電桜色 (denzakura iro), meaning “light electric pink”, which was given the reading of plasma pink (プラズマピンク)

Decompers and Twisters

A detail lost in translation is that Gendō characters have their own terms for decompers and twister. The reading デコンパ (decompa) is assigned to 網打ち (あみうち, amiuchi), meaning “to cast [fishing] nets”. The reading ツイスタ (tsuisuta) is assigned to 舵取り (かじとり, kajitori), meaning “helmsman.” This appears to largely be a Gendō thing, as there is a single instance of Pohi using 網打ち in 1.3, and Terra and Diode using them once with the decomper and twister readings in Volume 3.

1.3

Trawling Troll

The reading given to 網引きデカ鬼 (あみひきデカおに、amihiki deka-oni), meaning “giant net-casting demon” although here, “demon” is used in reference to Terra’s fishing skills.

Fuyō

2.1

Graveyard Grip

From the reading グレイブ・グラップル (grave grapple) assigned to 墓場腕 (はかぼうで、hakabōde), or “graveyard arm/strength.”

Lux Standard

From the reading ルクスポリシー (lux policy) assigned to 公用照度値 (こうようしょうどち、kōyō shōdochi), or “official illuminance value.”

Table of Johor

The Jack-of-All-Trades’ base ship refers to the state of Johor in Malaysia, located on the southern tip of the Malay Peninsula. It is unclear what the “table” part refers to, but it might be a bit of wordplay regarding its capital city of Johor Bahru -> Johor Tebaru -> Table of Johor. Johor Bahru sits across the Straits of Johor from Singapore, which is generally less than one kilometer wide. The city is a special economic zone with close ties to Singapore’s economy, which may also explain the Trades’ views on capitalism.

Xīnxīng Clan / Zéjīn

The name Xīnxīng is typically written in katakana (シンチン, shinchin), but it was used with kanji in Volume 1 with Linia Xīnxīng. There, the kanji are given as 新星, which means “nova.” Zéjīn is also provided in katakana (ツァイジン, tzaijin), but here we have no kanji to guide us with the translation. A setting notes document Ogawa provided at a launch event for Volume 4 doesn’t contain any clues. We also checked the CN fan translation to see if a native speaker figured it out, but their notes suggest the translator assigned the kanji 澤金 (roughly, “the luster of gold”) purely on sound association. Taking cues from this translation, we transliterated the base ship’s name as Zéjīn.

Radenvijaya Clan / Mandala

A possible source for the Radenvijaya clan’s name is the Javanese prince Raden Wijaya, who founded the Majapahit Empire on Java after defeating the armies of Kublai Khan’s Yuan Dynasty army in the 1290s. By the time of his death in 1309, the empire had grown to control most of Sumatra, the southern tip of the Malay Peninsula, southern Borneo, and much of Sulawesi. The Majapahit Empire was largely Hindu-Buddhist, which ties into the Radenvijaya clan’s ship name, Mandala.

Fishbone-type Cargo Ship

The reading given to 竜骨吊下げ型貨物船 (りゅうこつつりさげがたかもつせん, ryūkotsu tsurisage-gata kamotsusen), or “suspension keel-type cargo ship.”

Great Chief Code

The reading given to 船団長命令権 (せんだんちょうめいれいけん, sendan-chō meirei ken), meaning “fleet captain command authority.”

Nishikigoi

The Japanese name for the colored carp (錦鯉). While Terra describes “nishiki” as a word derived from ‘vivid aurora’, in reality it comes from the general term for fabrics with many different colors of thread and intricate patterning. In turn, the term is often used in a figurative sense to convey that something is beautiful. So, Diode’s later explanation of the word is somewhat closer to the truth.

Duct Suit

From the reading ダクトドレス (duct dress) assigned to given to 風管正装 (ふうかんせいそう, fūkan seisō), or “uniform for air ducts”.

Bact-ingineer

From the reading バクジニア (bacgineer) assigned to菌工師 (きんこうし、 kin kōshi), meaning “germ engineer.”

2.2

"Are you weaving a net?"

The verb used for “weaving” is 績紡ぐ (うみつむぐ, umitsumugu), an uncommon word meaning “to spin thread from fiber (e.g. cocoons or cotton).”

Koi Fishing

3.1

Umbral Hammering

From the term 影内ハンマリング (えいないハンマリング, einai hanmaringu), which roughly translates to “hammering within shadows”. This term likely refers to auroral substorms, which are brief bursts of intense auroral activity that last a few minutes. These are associated with sudden reconnections of a planet’s magnetic field lines along shorter pathways when a large amount of electrical charge builds up within the magnetosphere. This channels some of the charged particle cloud directly towards the poles, much like plugging a cord into a socket. Ogawa used a 2021 Juno discovery of “dawn storms” on Jupiter as a model for the koi fishing; there, volcanic gas from its rocky moon Io provides a charge source. While Fat Beach Ball lacks rocky moons, a similar auroral process has been observed on Saturn related to ice and gas geysers on its moon Enceladus.

3.2

Charge Alert

The reading assigned to 電荷上昇警報 (でんかじょうしょうけいほう, denka jōshō keihō), meaning “elevated electric charge warning.”

Table of Johor

4.1

Tōryūmon (Gateway to Success)

From the expression 登竜門 (とうりゅうもん, tōryūmon), originating from a Chinese legend that carp formerly lived in the mountainous upper reaches of the Yellow River. After a powerful flood carried them away from their homes, and with the current too strong to return, they appealed to the Jade Emperor. The Jade Emperor promised that he would transform any carp that could leap over the Dragon Gate (Lóngmén), a legendary waterfall, would become a mighty dragon. Afterwards, every year the carp competed to leap up the falls. This legend is tied to the annual migration of silver carp along the Yellow River. The modern-day location of the Dragon Gate is commonly placed at Mount Lóngmén, where the Yellow River flows through a water gap along the southern edge of the mountainous Loess Plateau and onto the Guanzhong Plain.

Bed Dress

The reading assigned to 寝台盛装 (しんだいせいそう, shindai seisō), meaning “fine clothing for bed.”

4.2

Commodore Helm

The reading assigned to 船団指揮権 (せんだんしきけん, sendan shikiken), meaning “authority to command the fleet.”

4.4

Galactive Active Interrupt

The reading assigned to 汎銀河往来圏防衛軍 (はんぎんがおうらいけん ぼうえいぐん, hanginga ōraiken bōeigun), meaning “Pan-Galactic Traffic Sphere Defense Force.”

Compression

5.1

Galactive Keegoin

The reading assigned to 銀河周縁圏 (ぎんがしゅうえんけん, ginga shūenken), meaning “the outskirts of the galaxy”. While the explanation for this term is not given until the third volume, it derives from the phrase 一度行った ら行きっぱなし (ichido ittara, ikippanashi), translating to “once gone, you keep going.”

5.5

“The beds assigned to Kanna and Ozuno”

This is a mistake present in the original, where instead of Meika’s name (瞑華), Diode’s name was written.

Manpresser

The reading assigned to 精神増圧機 (せいしんぞうあつき, seishin zouatsuki), meaning “(mind) compression machine” and may also be alternatively translated as “compressor”. It is not intended to have a gendered connotation.

Credits

Translated by FBB Translations - https://fatbeachball.neocities.org/

Epub created by Umeboshi