Chapter 4: Factory Tours

Chapter 4:
Factory Tours

 

“SO BASICALLY, you act like you hate me, but you’re actually head over heels in love with me?!”

“N-no, that’s not it! I-I swear!” Elma insisted.

“Elma, please,” Mimi said. “It’s not nice to cover up your embarrassment with violence.” She stuck her tongue out, mocking Elma.

“Mimi gets it,” I said.

“Uuuurgh!” Elma hastily covered her red ears again.

“Really, though. How does that work?” I asked. “I’m amazed that humans and elves can breed to begin with. How do the chromosomes and genes work?” Despite having similar bodies, elves and humans had evolved on completely different planets.

“Elves can, um…m-m-make babies with someone they accept as a… Uuurgh!” Elma put her head down on the table to hide her face.

Okay, I guess I get it. Space elves instinctively change to be able to breed with other species, basically. That sounds like it came right out of a porno.

As soon as that thought struck me, my mind went crazy over the possibilities. What if elves could breed with other races as a survival tactic? Maybe they lived on planets overrun with orcs, goblins, and tentacle monsters and the only way to survive was to mate with them. Would later generations retain their elf traits? It sounded insane.

“Well, I think I get the gist of it,” I said. “Space elves are awesome, huh?”

Elma frowned. “I-I’m seriously worried about what’s going on in your head right now.”

“For now, let’s just say, ‘Aww, Elma wuvs me,’”

“Gah!” Elma groaned, her hands trembling. “Ooough!”

Now she sounds like a siren.

“Master Hiro, it’s not nice to tease her,” Mimi said.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, Elma.” Mimi might have been the youngest, but she made a good point.

“I-It’s fine. I went a little too crazy anyway,” Elma said.

“I appreciate it, though. It’s great that you feel that way about me. I love you too. You’re reliable, you’ve got an adorable personality, and most of all, I can relax around you. I feel more comfortable near you than when we’re apart, honestly.”

“R-r-really?”

“Yeah, for sure. I mean it.”

“Huh. W-well, I guess I might feel the same way?” Elma uncovered her ears, staring at her fiddling fingers. Absolutely adorable.

“Good!” Mimi declared. “Have we kissed and made up now?”

“Yeah, we’ve made up,” I said.

“S-sure… Yeah,” Elma said.

Mimi beamed. “Great! Then I made an itinerary for us today. First, we will visit the Cierra Corporation’s artificial meat plant.”

“Ooh, artificial meat,” I said. “I’m definitely interested in how they make that stuff.”

While the artificial meat felt real enough, it was actually a mystery product composed of white meat instead of red. No matter how you cooked it. or how much it might taste and feel like beef or pork, cutting into it always revealed white meat inside.

It was definitely strange, but it tasted amazing and oozed with grease and fat. I couldn’t wait to see what kind of crazy process produced it.

“I’ve never seen an artificial meat plant,” Elma said.

“Exciting, isn’t it?!” Mimi said. “After that, the plan is to go to an aquaculture farm and the attached food processing plant.”

“An aquaculture farm, huh?” I said. “What do they actually farm in a place like that?”

“Isn’t it just the algae they use for food cartridges?” Elma said.

“If that’s all, it doesn’t sound like much fun…” I muttered. “But hey, if they offer tours, then it can’t be that boring. Right?”

“Hmm. I suppose you’re right,” Elma said.

“We’ll eat lunch at the food processing plant,” Mimi continued. “They say that you can eat just-processed foods there.”

“That is kind of horrifying.” I shuddered at the thought.

“It’s okay; it’s not what you think. I already researched it,” Mimi said, her eyes momentarily glazing over.

“That’s just fantastic. Should we get going soon?” I said.

“Hmm… Taking travel time into consideration, then yes.”

“Cool. Everyone, get dressed,” I said. “We’ll meet back here in the cafeteria when you’re ready.”

It only took us an hour to throw on clothes, venture out into the colony, and arrive at our first stop on our foodie tour.

“Whew… That train was kinda comfortable,” I commented.

“It would have been nice if they accelerated a little more gently…” Mimi said.

“That’s nothing compared to a ship, Mimi,” Elma replied. “Though apparently, some people get sick on trains.”

We’d hopped on one of the trains in the underground freight transport system to traverse this massive colony. It was cheap and fast, but that came at the price of cramped conditions. Each car had a maximum occupancy of six, and the three of us had gotten one to ourselves, but even that felt claustrophobic. There was no window and no view of any scenery, just a speedy, bumpy roller coaster of a train ride.

“So is this the artificial meat plant?” Elma asked, then suddenly froze.

“Hm? What’s up?” I followed Elma’s gaze, but the sign before us looked ordinary enough to me.

“Cierra Corporation Cultured Meat Plant,” I read aloud. What bothers her about that?

“I just remembered I have to do some stuff,” Elma muttered. “Have fun without me.”

“Hooold up.” I grabbed Elma by the shoulder before she could flee.

“Cultured meat? That’s not the same as artificial meat, is it?” Mimi cocked her head.

“Elma?”

“I don’t really wanna go in there,” Elma confessed.

“But we made a reservation,” Mimi said. “It’s almost time.”

“Hmm,” I said. “Ah, forget it. Let’s drag her in.”

“No, no, no, no, no…”

We dragged a reluctant Elma into the plant, where a slim man with a pale complexion offered a weird toothy grin from behind the reception desk. That’s really scary.

“Welcome! Is this Hiro’s party?” the man asked us.

“Y-yes, sir,” I replied.

“Thank you for choosing our plant’s tour service. Gosh, how long has it been since someone wanted a tour? We’ll bring the whole staff to make it a big merry party!”

“W-wow, crazy,” I said.

His eyes glittered, as if he were a cat sizing up its prey. A huge smile was still stretched across his face. I was beginning to have second thoughts about this.

“Well, don’t be strangers!” he said. “The visitors’ path is right this way. Follow the navigation and enjoy!” He indicated a door that slid open automatically with a click. It’s nothing to get worked up over; automatic doors are normal. Why is that door so thick, though? What is that, a safe?

“Master Hiro, let’s go!” Mimi tugged on my hand, unflappable in her excitement.

Elma shrank back. “I-I think I’ll pass, after all…”

“Oh, no,” I said. “You aren’t slipping away that easy.”

“H-hey, you’re too forceful! Stop pulling meee!” Elma yelled.

We made a chain, Mimi tugging me along while I dragged Elma behind me. I needed to keep a hold on both of them so Mimi wouldn’t dash off alone and so Elma wouldn’t flee. We die together, girls!

The moment we passed the automatic door, it shut and locked behind us. A mechanical voice addressed us: “In order to maintain plant hygiene standards, you shall be disinfected. Afterward, you may proceed.” White smoke hissed into the room. “Disinfection complete. Please move to the next room.”

A door opened, allowing us into a smaller chamber without any windows or doors.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Hmm… I don’t see any doors.” Mimi tilted her head to one side.

Elma heaved an exasperated sigh. “We’re gonna regret this.” The moment she said it, the door shut and locked behind us. Then the whole floor began to sway.

“Is the room moving?” I asked.

A voice greeted us from the ceiling. “Thank you for coming to participate in Cierra Corporation’s Cultured Meat Plant tour. Think of this room as a sort of gondola from which you can view the plant.”

“It’s like the whole room itself is a vehicle,” Mimi marveled. How was she the only one not freaked out by this?

“Shame it doesn’t have any chairs,” I said. My hand strayed to the laser on my hip.

“Customers have loved our meat for more than 300 years. We’re a cut above artificial meats, and that’s why an astonishing 93% of our customers come back for more. On this tour, you’ll see the starting cultures for our meat, the entire manufacturing process, and even the shipping department. Please relax and enjoy!”

“Are artificial and cultured meats different?” I asked.

“I suppose so?” Mimi tapped her lips as she thought.

Elma slouched over in a corner of the room, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes. What’s her deal? I’m getting a worse and worse feeling about this.

“First, let us take a look at the initial cultures,” the voice overhead said.

The walls around us went transparent, revealing a factory floor. Conveyor belts moved translucent containers to various stations, where machines squirted liquid into them. Their final destination seemed to be some kind of incubator.

“What do you think that box is?” Mimi asked me, pointing at the incubator.

“I have no idea.”

As the room moved on, more incubators appeared. These contained products that had clearly stewed for longer.

“Eugh…” I groaned.

“Wh-what in the world?” Mimi said.

The closer we got, the better we could see into the transparent containers. They held what appeared to be wriggling earthworms but—horrifically—were actually stringy meat.

“I super do not like this,” I muttered.

“C-could cultured meat be…?” Mimi craned her neck to keep analyzing the containers as the room moved on.

“This is why I didn’t want to come,” Elma grumbled, her words hanging in the air.

 

***

 

“Thank you again for visiting today. We hope you’ll try out our high-quality cultured meat in the near future.” I didn’t dare turn to look at the creepy receptionist again as we exited the plant. I could picture his smile all too vividly.

“Ulp.” I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from blowing chunks.

“I-I don’t think I’ll be able to eat meat for some time,” Mimi said.

“This is why I didn’t want to come!” Elma yelled.

The things we witnessed in there… I don’t even want to think about it.

There had been pools of meat-colored tentacle things, some the size of trains. They’d slice the tentacles open and… Ugh, I can’t describe it any further. According to the voiceover in the gondola, those tentacles were actual animals like cows or pigs, just genetically modified to improve edibility. The result was, well, whatever horrors lurked in that factory. They grew quickly into high-quality meat, though, and they supposedly weren’t sentient. I just wished all that genetic engineering could have made them less…disgusting.

I shook my head. “I still don’t get the point of that place.”

“It certainly didn’t stimulate my appetite,” Mimi remarked quietly.

“Once again…” Elma said. “Well, we’re going to some aquaculture place next, right? I hope it’s better.”

Mentally exhausted, we took heavy steps toward our next tour.

I hope it’s better too. A lot better.

 

***

 

“This is the, um…Maika Corporation,” Mimi said.

I balked. “That’s it?”

“Oh no.”

Elma and I both gaped in horror. The building before us could have been a clone of Cierra Corporation. Maybe it was just because they were both factories, but my stomach tied itself in knots at the sight.

“A-anyway, shall we head in?” Mimi proposed.

I let out a groan. “Ugh, I guess.”

Elma was equally apprehensive. “Sure…”

We stepped inside, resigned to our fate.

“The inside is different,” I said, a note of hope creeping into my voice.

“Indeed,” Elma said.

A bright, clean reception area awaited us. The woman behind the counter addressed us in a calm, businesslike manner. “Welcome. Reservation for Hiro, I presume?” Her neatly pressed uniform complemented her pleasant demeanor—nothing at all like that creepy guy at the meat plant.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

“Thank you for choosing us for your farm tour service. Goodness, how long has it been since someone wanted a tour? We’ll have the entire staff… Hm? What’s the matter?”

I winced at the déjà vu her words elicited. The receptionist cocked her head in confusion.

“Well, uh, we just took a tour of the Cierra Corporation’s cultured meat plant,” I said.

The receptionist gasped. “Oh, dear! Those awful people put you through that weird tour, didn’t they? Sorry, it may be rude to speak badly of other companies, but they really are terrible. They even use the same kind of building as us, which does nothing for our reputation.” She then offered a wry grin. “Worry not. Our tour is much less objectionable. At the very least, we won’t make you queasy.” Her smile melted away my misgivings.

“I’m holding you to that,” I said.

“No problem, sir. It will be all right. Now, you’ll need to be disinfected at the start of the tour. Please proceed through that door.”

This part, at least, proved the same as the start of the Cierra Corporation tour. Does this smoke do the disinfecting? Is it okay to breathe it in? It’s not gonna affect my body, is it? Maybe I don’t have to worry, given how advanced the technology is here…

The similarities ended there. We didn’t enter a weird gondola this time, but rather a glass hallway. This time, we could move at our own pace instead of being shuttled around.

“Wooow, it’s so bright!” Mimi said.

“That it is,” I said. “It’s like real sunlight.”

“They’ve got a description here,” Elma noted. “Mm, it says they use light at a wavelength specialized for growth.”

“Huh. Like a sun lamp, then?” I said.

I’d definitely played a game that had a similar item, allowing players to grow crops regardless of the season. It was a real electricity hog, but that likely wasn’t an issue in this universe. In fact, the Krishna itself contained a generator with more than enough output to power something like that.

“What could they be growing?” Mimi wondered aloud.

“Hmm, I dunno. Watercress, maybe?” I was imagining the kind of watercress that went with steak.

“It says here it’s a high-nutrient vegetable,” Elma said. “Apparently, it’s pretty salty. Guess this is what goes in the food cartridges.” Hmm, I see. I heard algae and krill were the main ingredients, but I guess they put this in too.

Everything inside this factory was automated. Drones zipped through the air. Robotic arms helped slide the watercress (or whatever it was) around the farm.

We wandered on until we hit an area full of pools.

“Green pools… Is it algae?” I asked.

“It seems so, yes,” Mimi replied.

Here, the robotic arms cast nets to collect up algae and sprinkled brown powder over the pools.

“What’s that brown powder? Is it manure?”

“Umm…” Elma read the description, then groaned. “Eww.”

That didn’t sound good. “What’s the matter?”

“That’s everyday waste collected from ships,” she said.

“Everyday waste…” Mimi parroted.

“Oh.” Oh, no. That brown stuff was ship waste. Not just feces, but also food scraps, bath water, you name it—all the junk a ship had to get rid of. So that was where ours went after the Port Authority collected them. “Well, that’s one way to recycle. It’s the same as manure, in a way.”

“True, I guess…” Elma said reluctantly.

“It still feels rather strange,” Mimi said.

“So you say, but back on my Earth, agricultural manure normally contained certain kinds of feces,” I told her. “I think they used livestock droppings along with plant seeds. They even used human feces a long time ago.”

Of course, I’d never had to actually witness a manure pit back on Earth. Did anyone still use them? Maybe just smaller farmers. I wasn’t sure.

“Wow,” Elma said. “Yeah, that sounds like an undeveloped planet to me.”

“Stop saying that,” I said. “It makes me feel really weird even if I can’t begin to comprehend this universe’s technology.”

I tried to put it behind me as we stepped up to a different pool. “Is this one a krill cultivation pool?”

“This one’s for animal plankton,” Elma said. “Like the others, it uses everyday waste as the feed.”

“By the way, I believe they said something similar at the cultured meat plant,” Mimi added.

“I didn’t have it in me to listen to the explanations there.” Those pools of fleshy tentacles flashed through my mind. I could vividly recall the workers hacking pieces off of train-sized tentacle monsters. Ugh, I’d go mad if I kept thinking about it.

Thankfully, the next area looked much more like an ordinary factory.

“Ooh. So this is where they make the food cartridges, right?” I asked.

“Looks like messy work,” Elma commented.

“They’re tossing all of the ingredients into a processor,” Mimi said.

She was right. I watched as ingredients bumped along on a conveyor belt and into a processing machine. They popped out the other side as a familiar paste.

“It’s that stuff,” I muttered.

“Yup, looks like it.”

Elma raised an eyebrow. “What’s the ‘stuff’?”

“Arein Tertius’s specialty…”

“Yeah.”

Elma gazed at us with a mixture of pity and horror. I’ll never forget the way Mimi’s eyes clouded over when she saw that green paste. No doubt I looked about the same right now. The mere memory of the taste of those nutritional shakes made my blood run cold.

“So that paste ends up in food cartridges?” Elma said.

“Seems to be the case,” I said. “Then it goes through an automatic cooker and into our bellies.”

“I don’t believe they make high-class cartridges here,” Mimi said. Apparently, this plant only produced normal cartridges. The classy stuff cost five times what this would, but they weren’t actually five times tastier.

“I’d love to see high-class cartridge production,” I said, “but I guess it needs more ingredients or something.”

Elma shrugged. “I doubt they’re that different, actually.”

Next, we reached the cafeteria, where a sign greeted us: “Enjoy freshly made food cartridges! We’re chock-full of automatic cookers manufactured by our partners! Give them a test run. If you find something you love, cartridges and cookers are available for purchase.”

I scanned the cafeteria. Lots of automatic cookers from lots of manufacturers, but no Steel Chef in sight.

“Hey, that’s an impressive system.”

“Is this how they make a profit with so few guests?” Mimi said.

“Who comes on these tours except for rich people, right? Automatic cookers are expensive, so selling just a few each month probably puts them at a profit,” Elma said.

“Fair point,” I admitted.

The display also had an array of buttons, one of which was labeled “Press Here for Food Cartridge.” I gave it a try. A holographic display appeared before me showing a freshly made food cartridge delivered hot off the assembly line. Ambient music accompanied the video. In the end, my food cartridge appeared from within the wall. The whole thing was kind of hilarious.

Mimi and Elma tried it and got totally different videos and music.

“This is fun!” Mimi said, delighted.

“Some kid would totally press it over and over,” Elma added.

“Which one should we try?” Mimi asked when we took our cartridges to the array of cookers.

“Do they differ that much between manufacturers?” Elma said.

“Why don’t we try ordering the same thing on three different machines to compare them?” I suggested.

“Good idea. Let’s go for it,” Mimi said.

We split up to order omurice from three different cookers, and they all finished at the same time. We pooled our spoils, dividing the meals up evenly between everyone.

“Hmm… Wow. They are different,” I said.

“Yeah, right?” Elma agreed. “The flavoring and textures are surprisingly varied.”

“Would it be up to personal taste, then?” Mimi said. “I happen to prefer the Circe Company’s.”

“It’s the Murakumo one for me,” I said.

“I gotta go with the Circe Company too,” Elma said.

The third one, Cimaz Company’s, wasn’t bad either, but it didn’t make the top of anyone’s list.

“Betcha different manufacturers have different specialties.”

“That is possible…” Mimi said.

“We’re not gonna try them all, are we?” Elma said.

Maybe one had better curry over rice, while another had better Japanese-style food. Our Steel Chef was good at everything, it seemed. Not that that came as a surprise—we’d certainly paid for quality with that purchase.

We selected pudding for our dessert, and here Cimaz Company finally shone, lending credence to the theory that different cookers simply had different specialties.

“Do you think richer families might get a few cookers so they can have the best version every time?” I asked the girls.

“As long as they have the space for it, I could see them splurging on a luxury like this,” Elma replied.

“Rather than buying several cookers, wouldn’t buying one high-performance Steel Chef be more economical?” Mimi said.

“Maybe so,” I said. Having so many cookers would require a ton of space, after all, and space came at a premium in this universe. Getting any kind of private residence was a huge cost already.

We lingered a bit longer at the aquaculture farm, enjoying some tea before heading out.

“Al-co-hol! Al-co-hol!” Elma bounced toward our final tour destination: a brewery.

“I hope this one’s normal too,” I said.

“Agreed. I think we’ll be fine, but…” Mimi and I exchanged smiles as Elma skipped ahead of us.

 

***

 

Ten minutes of dancing through the streets later, we arrived at the brewery.

“It’s the Koryu Beverages factory!” Elma exclaimed. “They’re the biggest brewery in the whole empire! They’ll make any drink in the universe, but their beer is famous for being smooth and rich!”

She might as well be the tour guide at this point. Elma was practically sparkling with excitement.

“Hey, Mimi. Is it just me or is Elma glowing?”

“She is. Is this elf magic?”

“Huh, is that a thing? I haven’t heard of it.”

“I don’t know the details, but it seems so, yes.”

For real? I thought she was just a sad little space elf without an ounce of magic, but she knew magic all along?! I shook my head to conceal my shock.

“C’mon, let’s go in! Go, go, hurry up!” Elma charged ahead, her hype at max. I’d never seen her so excited for anything. Mimi and I looked at each other, chuckled, and followed Elma into the plant.

As with the other tours, a receptionist greeted us and showed us to a disinfection room. This time, however, we weren’t the only people on the tour. Most of the others were human (which made sense—humans were the most common species in the Grakkan Empire), but Elma was the only elf. Were elves that rare?

In any case, the other tourists included lizardmen, some amphibious or maybe fishlike race of creatures, sea anemone things, and humanlike beings with animal ears and tails. Do those anemone things even comprehend speech?

“Hiro, stop standing around and hurry!” Elma shouted. “We gotta check out the taste-testing station!”

“Hold on, Elma,” I said. “Let them do the tour. If you just wanna drink, then we can do that on the ship.”

“B-but it’s different when it’s freshly made!”

“Just stop rushing, okay? We don’t have any other plans, so we don’t have to hurry.”

“Ugh…” Elma puffed out her cheeks as her ears drooped. She was like a disappointed little kid.

“Are they making ale?” I asked.

“It’s beer,” our tour guide said.

“Oh, beer. Okay.” I always thought of carbonated alcohol as beer and non-carbonated as ale, but that was as deep as my knowledge went. This universe had a distinct lack of carbonation everywhere I looked, though. It was like they were just out to spite me.

“There’s not much to be seen in beer brewing,” I told Elma. “The machines work quickly and precisely, though, so maybe people who are into machinery would find it interesting.”

“Are there people like that?” Elma asked, her expression dubious.

“I rather like it,” Mimi said. “There’s something satisfying about it.”

“I don’t really get it.”

Elma shrugged it off, but I agreed with Mimi. There was something soothing in watching the machines do their methodical work.

Still, we headed off to the next area: the fruit wines. I’d expected large vats full of people stomping on grapes, but the truth was so much weirder.

“Is this an orchard?” I wondered aloud.

A vineyard filled the vast room. Drones and robotic arms buzzed around like busy bees, not dissimilar from the aquaculture farm earlier, in fact.

“Yep,” Elma said. “Here they grow alcoholic fruits. This one must be wine fruit.”

“Wine fruit?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s eat some!” Elma said. “Koryu Beverages makes great wine too.” Through our tablets, we could pay a couple Ener and try out this wine fruit ourselves.

“I’ve never had wine before, so this is kind of exciting,” Mimi said.

While I hesitated, Elma pressed her terminal against a vending machine and received a paper cup containing a single dark-purple fruit the size of a Kyoho grape. She popped the whole thing right in her mouth.

“Mmm,” she moaned. “Wine is good, but the wine fruits are even better. Mimi, try one.”

“Are you sure? Thank you.” Goaded on, Mimi tossed one into her own mouth. “Mmph… It’s not as sour as you’d expect, is it? It’s not acidic at all.”

“When they turn it into wine, they crush the skin and the seeds with it,” Elma told her. “When you eat the fruit, you don’t bother to chew through them completely, right? That’s why you don’t taste the acidity.”

“Wow, how interesting,” Mimi said. “It still smells and tastes like it, though. I like it, but I think I would get drunk if I ate too much.”

“How about you, Hiro?” Elma said. “You might not be a drinker, but you can at least have a bite, right?”

“Probably…”

“There you go. Open up.”

“Aah.” I obediently opened my mouth and Elma tossed in a fruit. The moment I bit down, the flavor of alcohol exploded in my mouth. The juice really was actual wine. “Is the fruit itself alcoholic? Is that even possible?”

“I guess your universe didn’t have these, huh?” Elma said.

“The wine I know is made by taking grapes—kinda like these wine fruits—and crushing, fermenting, compressing, and finally aging them.”

“That’s a pretty traditional—er, primitive—way of making it. I heard they did that up until about two thousand years ago. Nowadays, they just make it from wine fruit.”

“So it’s the result of selective breeding or genetic engineering, huh? That’s crazy.” My body warmed as I swallowed down the fruit. Already, a flush had crept onto my face. I really was the easiest drunk.

Mimi gasped. “Master Hiro, you’re all red!”

“Pfft! Aww, how cute.”

“Shut up! My face gets red when I drink, okay? Just one can of beer is enough to get me wasted.”

Mimi smirked at me while Elma giggled and popped another wine fruit in her mouth. I covered my face with my hands, but it only made their smiles widen.

I tried to change topics instead. “Let’s go to the next area, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get to the next one, widdle baby boy.”

“Hee hee!” Mimi giggled. “Widdle baby.”

I left without waiting to see if they followed. Damn. This might really be my Achilles’ heel.

The next stop on the tour was supposed to be the fermented liquors section. Except…

“Is it just a forest?” I said.

“They’re spirit trees,” Elma informed me.

“Spirit trees?” I echoed.

“Yep. The natural whiskey that comes out of those trees is top-shelf. Its flavors are a step above the synthetic stuff.”

“Synthetic whiskey, huh?” Nothing makes sense anymore. What the hell is natural whiskey?! “Uh, how do they make this stuff?”

“That’s what we’re here to learn! Come on. They have a description over there.” Elma pointed at a holographic video display.

According to the video, the very sap of those spirit trees was natural whiskey, almost like how some maple trees made maple syrup. It was weird to say the least.

The brewery also dabbled in synthetic whiskey as a less costly product offering. Adding flavoring to alcohol produced a credible whiskey flavor. Not as popular as the natural stuff, but a lot more cost-effective.

“Mmm!” Elma smiled big and wide as she downed a shot glass of the good stuff. “Natural really is best!”

“That so?”

“Hrk!” Mimi choked, blinking in surprise. “I-It’s a little too strong for me.”

I patted her on the back while Elma bought a second glass. That elf was going to black out on us if she kept going ham. By the time we finished the tour, Elma was well and truly drunk; even Mimi was wavering a bit.

“Eh heh heh heh… Hirooo…”

“I-I’m sorry, Master Hiro…”

I caught Elma as she tried to cling to me and supported Mimi before she could fall. Incredibly, we shuffled all the way back to the Krishna.

Later, once Elma recovered, she examined her terminal and went pale. Apparently, she’d splurged on some high-quality stuff to the tune of a whopping 100,000 Ener.

“Some nerve you have, paying 100,000 Ener for booze when you haven’t even started paying me back,” I said.

“Ah ha ha… Ha ha ha ha. Forgive meee…” Elma clapped her hands and bowed her head adorably. Ha ha ha! You little rascal.

“One week, no alcohol,” I said. “If you sneak any… Heh heh, remember what I did the other day? You’re gonna get that again. Slowly, carefully, and for a while. According to Dr. Shouko, people who get used to it get addicted.”

“Eep! I-I won’t drink…” Elma shook her head, tears in her eyes.

I figured I’d been pretty gentle, taking it slow the way I had. No complaints, got it?

So went our three days of rest and recuperation. I figured we were doing pretty all right for ourselves. Little did I know the trouble that would arise from our little excursions.

But you know what they say: hindsight is 20/20.