Origin (25)
"... You're saying we're going to the robot production facility?"
"Yes."
"But... there's no way it's intact, right?"
Assuming communications were a pureblood supremacist trap and that they'd seized control of the refinery, I didn't think there was any chance the robot production facility would be undamaged.
Even though the refinery is now compromised, what do you think allowed it to hold out until now? It's because there was a robot production facility nearby.
I—no, not just me, but all of us—had ridden the shuttle, skirting the sky above the area so as not to be seen, and witnessed with our own eyes the graveyard of battered security robots.
That scene, where countless security robots had been brutally destroyed, strongly, very strongly, suggested a certain possibility.
That the robot production facility had been utterly wrecked. More specifically, that the pureblood supremacists would have sabotaged the production facility before attacking the refinery itself.
If the facility was fine, robots would have kept coming, and there would still be ongoing clashes with the pureblood supremacists. But what was the situation now? Forget about backup security robots—even Chen, one of the engineers supposedly stationed at the refinery, had requested help.
And that request nearly entrapped us, becoming a noose ready to yank tight around our necks.
Just as Licorice was thinking along those lines, Celestia spoke up first. Licorice shot a sharp glance at Celestia for stealing her timing.
"Hyun-woo is right. The production facility isn't intact. It's in worse shape than the refinery."
Celestia Myosotis. It occurred to me that this town was activated under Myosotis' authority. Secretly, I hoped there might be some other forgotten facility.
I love the idea of hidden areas or special gimmicks that only activate in dire emergencies. Maybe she sensed my gaze; Celestia laughed awkwardly.
"Just to be clear, there's no secret second production facility or anything."
"Oh."
"Don't be too disappointed."
My look must have given away my disappointment, despite my words. I cleared my throat and shifted the subject, asking what reason we had to go to the production facility, then.
"The answer's simple. If it's broken, we'll fix it."
"... Fix it? Not that it's wrong, but is that really within our capacity? I mean, I've never been, but from what I glimpsed last time, that facility was enormous."
"It's possible. Theoretically."
Licorice cut in quickly to answer my question. She explained that the robot production facility was run by a select few engineers who had been vetted and re-vetted by SSTC.
The only other place on Titan operated almost entirely by machines had been the waste management sector, where I'd previously encountered an incomplete Blue Eye mutant. Even then, there had been a few workers—so it wasn't completely unmanned.
"What's important here is that there are only a few administrators. And they're of supervisor rank—so high that calling them advanced workers would be an understatement. Hyun-woo, you know this. Even among supervisors, there's a hierarchy."
She was right. Even within the same category, seniority and responsibility divided people into superiors and subordinates. That's why the engineers in Heaven made more than those in the residential area.
"Okay, pop quiz. Who's this?"
Licorice pointed at Celestia. There was only one answer, wasn't there? What did she take me for?
"Celestia, Myosotis."
"And me?"
Licorice tapped her own upper chest with her finger. Again, an easy answer.
"A human who only trusts robots, distrusts people."
"What? Hey, I don't only trust robots—ugh... not that! Something else."
"The person who stole the precious bed of a hardworking individual and slept like a log."
Before I could answer, Nadia shot her hand up and shouted the answer.
"You too, Woof-woof...! Do you two have a death wish?"
That was the wrong answer.
"Someone who pretends to be cool, but actually holds things deep inside and then suddenly acts out, catching people off guard."
"... Lee Hyun-woo."
Licorice's expression as she quietly called my name was no joke. I sensed that one more word would get me into real trouble, and Nadia was frantically motioning for me to stop. So I hurriedly changed the subject.
"Someone who handles Titan like her own backyard... My lifesaver? A fellow passenger on the same ship?"
"Huu..."
Even the attempts I gingerly added, trying to save face, weren't the answers she wanted, but they were close enough that she let it slide. Still suppressing her anger, Licorice called up a hologram window.
From her tightly pressed lips, she seemed to mouth, "See you later"... and I regretted teasing her right away. Nadia tapped my hand with her tail as if saying she wouldn't take responsibility for what happened next, then slipped away.
Nadia had teased her too, yet why did it feel like I alone was taking the fall? Even though I'd ribbed her twice.
I moved to retaliate against the teasing tail, but Nadia-nimbly flicked only the very tip out of reach.
A small war unfolded under the table as the hologram expanded, revealing the robot production facility's layout.
"Just because a facility takes heavy damage doesn't mean it's unusable—especially one that makes base models for security robots, not ordinary home units."
"So we really can fix it?"
"There's a security protocol that activates only during war, or comparable situations."
Titan, a huge deposit of Blue Crystal. The military presence for protecting this critical resource was no joke.
Back when Blue Crystal was first becoming a hot new energy source, various factions maneuvered to privatize the deposits.
There were countless cases where ships carrying refined Blue Crystal were pirated. To stop that, military bases were set up all over Titan, and all over the residential area and Heaven, there were security robots everywhere.
Though now, all those were neutralized by pureblood supremacist terrorists, and then destroyed by various mutant organisms, but only people were lost, not the entire facilities.
"If we activate the security protocol with an supervisor's authority or higher, all the facility controls fall to us. It's separate from Heaven's systems—the robot production facility is classified as a military installation."
"There were original administrators there, right...? Didn't they activate the protocol and produce all those robots?"
"That's definitely not what happened. Like I said: the protocol only triggers during war or similar emergencies."
Normally, direct communication with SSTC command is needed, or an orbital satellite must provide the authorization code—unless the satellite is destroyed, the protocol won't activate.
Since this activation only happens in the deadliest of situations, the full force could flip all of Titan on end. In other words, SSTC feared a repeat of previous town uprisings.
Ordinarily, even more complicated procedures would be needed, but since the people authenticating authority were herself and Celestia Myosotis, they could skip that.
If the personnel at the robot production facility had gone ahead and activated the protocol themselves, our job would be easier—but what can you do? Complaining about people who're likely dead doesn't change anything.
"The moment authority passes to us, the system will recognize the crisis and play its hidden hand. The damaged lines will be forced back online, and robot production will resume immediately."
Though the supremacists had destroyed part of the deeper facility, unless they destroyed it all, the place would still function. Seeing how they wrecked the communications room, Licorice was certain they had no technical knowledge of the facility.
"And you'll use that to push the supremacists out?"
"That would be nice, but I doubt we'll have enough firepower. For now, I'm thinking mainly as a distraction."
"Why? Isn't it going to mass-produce robots? Just from the description, it sounds like you could raise an army."
"What's produced is just the basic empty shell—the frame. If we had more time for additional processes, we could outfit them with armor or emitters. But we don't. Even though the supremacists are crazy, it's not like they have no eyes and ears."
Repairs to the production lines will be underway, too, but there won't be enough time to restore full processes. So we're stuck using the basic early models that can roll off the line as soon as they're assembled.
And when the supremacists catch on, they won't stand by and watch. These early-type security robots, lacking any additional parts, are—well, calling them security robots is generous; more like scarecrows.
"Besides, after entering the refinery, those shells won't last long. We've run out of material for dimension coating on the circuitry. To be precise, the supremacists likely confiscated it. Any substance that helps robots resist the resonance of Blue Crystal would be dangerous to them, too."
Licorice said the supremacists probably smashed every visible core in the facility, and all that could be attached to the shells would be short-life batteries, shrugging as she said it.
"That's a lot of problems."
I sighed. When I'd first heard about the protocol, I thought things would go smoothly, but as more details emerged, the more hopeless it all seemed.
But then, I suddenly remembered a container we'd fetched from the warehouse—the one containing essential material for dimension coating, something-something composite nano-whatever. I never did hear what the last part was.
"Hey, about that coating—we have some of that stuff we brought last time, right? Can't we feed it into the production line?"
"We need that for ourselves. We're short even as is, so it would be a waste to use it for disposable shells. They're just empty cans. Don't expect Alpha-level performance from them. You know each one cost millions of credits, right? There's no comparison to what comes off the factory line."
"Alright. So, what's the plan? We're definitely going to the production facility, but how are we getting there, how many people, when do we move on the refinery? Can we have more details?"
Licorice spoke.
"This time, we can't make a scene like last time. We have to infiltrate the facility quietly and activate the protocol without the supremacists noticing. Survival above all else."
"If it's infiltration, then stealth is important, isn't it?"
"Yeah, if it wasn't a Blue Crystal site. We're not all decked out in optical camouflage gear—can't make it right now, either."
We'd have to move stealthily, but above all survive any supremacist encounters. Die along the way, and the whole mission falls apart.
"No shuttles this time. Well, actually, the shuttles are for another operation; you guys can go by hover bike. There were some inside that container. Not the latest model, but they're brand new, so they'll do."
"Oh."
Hover bikes had proven pretty useful back in the residential area. I could still vividly recall the sense of speed. Truth be told, I was so nervous back then that I hardly remembered actually driving.
Still, for transport rather than an escape, it should be fine.
This was Licorice's plan.
We couldn't take a shuttle openly, or we'd be detected before infiltration, so we'd sneak in through the gaps on hover bikes.
Personnel-wise, it would be me, Nadia, and Carry—plus one more, either a person or a robot. Hover bikes only had so much space; more than that was impossible.
'Probably Eric or Alpha.'
Other than those two, no one else was suited for outside work. They hadn't even adapted yet. Just like with Domestica, it was easier on me if the same people handled it.
"No matter how we time it, you guys might get spotted at the oddest moment. So you need this."
"What is it?"
I looked at the small cube Licorice put down. It looked important, almost like a core component.
"A comms jammer. Cobbling it together means it's not perpetual, but you can trust the performance—I made it myself."
There's no rule that only the enemy can use comms jamming, Licorice said, raising a fierce corner of her mouth.
"So, how about it, can you do it? You leave tomorrow. We'll be as ready as we can."
"Might as well give it a try."
There was nothing to agonize over. If I had to go, I had no choice but to go.
If things went wrong and the supremacists messed with the solar furnace and blew Titan to bits, I couldn't trust anyone else to handle it, and I was too anxious to just sit around. Better to act than worry.
It seemed like the discussion was over, but for some reason, Celestia was hesitating, stealing glances at us. Licorice, who had done most of the talking, seemed to know something, folding her arms and waiting. She even gave Celestia a look, prodding her to speak.
Eventually, eyes tightly shut, Celestia opened them and quietly spoke.
"Thank you for making a tough decision, Hyun-woo. It makes me feel a little better. I'm going with you this time."
"... What? Wait, no, I take back what I said."
I furrowed my brow, not immediately processing what Celestia had just said, but as her meaning dawned on me, my eyes went wide and I desperately tried to change my answer. But spilled water can't be gathered up.
"You're personally coming, Celestia? Not supporting from the town? Do you realize—"
I broke off mid-sentence. She above anyone knows what that means. She's the head of Myosotis, after all. No way she doesn't know her own value.
Nadia also started to say something but stopped. She leaned back, as if deferring to me.
People say there's no hierarchy of jobs, or of people.
But we all knew that wasn't true. Some jobs are worth more. So are some people.
Sometimes a menial job is done by a precious person. Sometimes someone with an important job is a lowlife. Sometimes, it's both.
Right now, that was Celestia Myosotis. Everyone in town was pinning their hopes on the name Myosotis.
She was a symbol. If a rescue call broke through the comms blockade, the forces of Myosotis, receiving the signal, would descend to save the people of Titan.
That's why Celestia Myosotis needed to be somewhere safe. For their sake and for ours.
So I tried to object, but then Celestia gave me a desperate look.
"Hyun-woo..."
I suddenly felt breathless. I immediately sensed why she was so stubborn.
"Is this because of that?"
"... Yes."
"..."
I silently sighed. Finding her brother—Celestia's one and only reason for coming down to Titan. This wasn't something I could just talk her out of.
Just as we all have lines we can't retreat from, for Celestia, that was finding her brother.
Even if I said no, she'd probably come anyway, or sneak off alone. Locking her up so she couldn't go anywhere was never an option, and would only start an argument.
After moving my lips for a while, I finally let out a deep sigh and reluctantly nodded. Celestia brightened immediately.
She'd looked more and more strained since she started "looking into something," but now, just a bit of color returned to her face.
"Thank you for allowing it."
"You know I'm not really in a position to allow or disallow it."
Celestia didn't need my permission—or even my agreement. She was above that. If she told me what needed to be done, I'd have no choice but to listen.
But the fact that she even asked—I had no idea how to feel about that. I didn't even know why my chest felt so tight.
I was the selfish one, not Celestia. Even now, a part of me worried that if something happened to her, our escape would be at risk. Still, I said I'd help, so I should.
Other feelings and emotions also welled up, but I couldn't quite identify them.
All I could do was try not to show how complicated I felt as I left my seat.
"Nadia, come on. Let's help with the prep."
"Huh? Uh, O-okay...!"
Nadia nudged Carry awake and got up to follow me. Licorice and Celestia stayed behind, as if they still had things to discuss.
After an unsettled, lingering meeting, we each went off to do what needed to be done.
-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Prep time!
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】