“Even though we have the rich asteroid belt and the Oort Cloud, the vast amount of resources of a trinary system cannot be underestimated. Alpha Centauri could surpass Sol in the future.”
-Hilary Diaz, 2202, Annual Martian Development Speech.
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I would never grow used to gravitation fields. Distinct from gravity fields, because those exist everywhere, gravitation in the sense of artificial, man-made. Depending on the section of the axis you traveled, gravity could change substantially in a single step. The worst part was that there was near to no feedback. It was wholly unnatural. You could be in two gravitation fields at the same time and not be torn to shreds. Of course not, you just were accelerating at different angles, which is also possible in a single gravity field, but it did confuse the life out of me.
“You sure you will have enough money for lunch?” Makoto turned back to talk to me. I could see a hint of regret in her eyes, she felt bad for making me buy that yukata.
“I will.” I smiled at her. “Unless Mérida decides to eat the whole locale,” I added a bit of comedy at the end to defuse the atmosphere.
“Hey!” She hissed at me.
“What?” I shrugged. “You are the one who eats the most here.”
“And also the only one that exercises!” She said with her fist raised up. It looked like she wanted to hit me but thought about it twice as I was the one going to pay for the meal.
Truth was, Makoto and I weren’t paragons of a healthy lifestyle. Makoto was lanky and almost in her bones; she didn’t enjoy eating much. Prior to my evolution, I had been so tired and needed of time that I sometimes ‘forgot’ it. Unfortunately, our caretakers forced us to eat. Or fortunately, I guess. It wasn’t like I avoided eating.
Mérida was the exception. Whilst I wouldn’t say she had a killer body; she had a toned body and was quite tall for a woman. Even now, after my higher-tiered evolution, I was only a couple of fingers taller than her. I would dare to say she would take the biological evolutions just because she liked to take care of her body, I couldn’t be sure.
Soon enough, we arrived at the hyped restaurant.
The standardized display in front of the store showed the ‘Precision Delicacies’ title.
There was another person in the restaurant eating alone at a corner table, enjoying themselves with a glass of some liquid.
“Welcome to my humble restaurant.” A disembodied voice talked to us. It was masculine, but not by much. “Please take a seat wherever you like.”
The omnidirectional voice and the name of the restaurant already clued me in on what type of human the owner was.
Virtualized.
I didn’t hate them, but I couldn’t say I imagined myself as one. Completely removing one’s body – a thing that not even synthetics did – abhorred me. Sure, humans were only their minds, but… it wasn’t right.
I followed the girls to a table as I was too distracted to choose one by myself. The moment we sat; my interface shone with the red light of a notification. I had been sent the menu of the restaurant. Well, it’s not stored on cache so that’s good. Like a good, non-autistic engineer, I focused on the digital properties of the menu before actually reading it. It was a browser pop-up and it didn’t leave data on the local interface.
“Holy…” I closed my mouth shut once I saw the prices of the meals. “Okay, girls. One rule. Only one meal.”
The range of prices was height, but a quick calculus told me the median was around 10k computes per meal, and 5k per dessert. And knowing them, they would want dessert. I had more than enough, but I rather have some money before I received my first salary. I heard the Tycoon had some early expenses to gatekeep a bit of the progress, and I preferred if I could skip them.
“Alright.” Makoto accepted easily as she was aware beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Fine…” Mérida pouted but accepted the terms.
“Anyways, what is this place?”
“This establishment specialized in molecular cuisine.” The owner responded. I saw the cameras of the restaurant pointing at us. “Though as you can tell from the prices, I pride myself on atomic cuisine. A far more arduous and intensive endeavor.”
“You cook atom by atom?” I frowned at… the restaurant? Talking to incorporeal humans was weird. Most of my life had been around fellow students, and the humans that I did manage to see were biologicals.
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“Not entirely correct.” The voice denied. “That process would take far too long for an establishment of this caliber.” Yeah, I would think so. “The ingredients are methodically prepared and lab-grown atom by atom, but the cooking process itself is due in a lesser – or I should say greater – scope. Therefore, molecular cuisine.”
“I see.” I honestly didn’t understand the hype.
Sure, cooking at this scale was sure to bring surprising results, but I wasn’t exactly gourmand myself. Looking at the lost gazes of the girls, they were focused on their menus, intending to make the most out of their meals.
“What does the house recommend?” I asked the owner.
“That depends on many factors, I’m afraid.” He responded. “I can basically cook anything, I am not limited to the menu, that is just to state my specialties.”
“How about something with meat?” I asked. My body was way bigger than before, and honestly, my teeth felt like razor blades. I needed something strong. “Something tough. But whatever’s the best dish with meat you can make.”
“Understood.” The chef stated. “How about you, students? Are you ready to order?”
“I… I think I’ll have one of these fugu ramen?” Makoto responded.
Fugu… Hmm, that word sounds familiar.
“I’ll take the Blanquette de Veau, thank you,” Mérida replied with a solid French pronunciation. I obviously had no idea what that dish was all about.
“Your orders are now being processed.” The chef responded with such a robotic tone that I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “What drinks will you have?”
“How about wine?” Mérida suggested.
I sighed. “I knew you were gonna try to leave me dry.” She grinned at me. “One bottle of red wine, please.”
“Marching.” As soon as the incorporeal voice announced, an automaton with the shape of a pole appeared from an automatic door, carrying a tray with a bottle on top. Mérida eagerly grabbed the bottle and uncorked it, taking a sniff out of it before grabbing the glasses on the tray.
“This red wine has been manufactured artificially from zero through fungi colonies that recreate a mead similar to many alcohols and then repurposed with atomic cuisine.” The chef announced.
I was okay with not having ‘real’ food, but the whole fungi thing of the explanation took the appetite from me. That didn’t stop the girls from acting like experienced sommeliers.
In the end, we had to wait for around half an hour before we got our meals, and that was taking into account that we were the only clients. Sure, that woman still lingered on the corner drinking, but she hadn’t asked for anything all this time. I guess I valued my time more than any good food because neither of the girls had any problem.
“So you still don’t have access to your Tycoons?” It was one of the subjects that popped up whilst we waited for the food to arrive.
“No…” Mérida said as she slumped on the table like a pool of ooze.
“They gave us some manuals to instruct ourselves whilst we waited, but they said only humans can access the Project Tycoon.” Makoto elaborated for me.
“A shame,” I added. “Depending on your luck and type of ascension, you could be waiting as far as a month before you get access to it.” And by that time, I will already be gone from the space station. I left that unsaid.
“Is there any chance that we can convince you to wait for us before accessing your Tycoon?” Mérida questioned with teary eyes.
“No.” I gave a rotund negation.
“Really?” The auburn woman moved her hand to her tunic, slowly displacing it so her cleavage was more visible.
“I am going to take your wine away, Mérida,” I stated neutrally.
“No, please!” She begged, raising her head from the table. “I’ll be good!”
“Hehe.” Makoto snickered at Mérida’s pathetic outburst.
Our meals then arrived at the same time. Makoto and Mérida’s plates were like soup. Or at least looked like it. I could see thick noodles on Makoto’s, but Mérida’s was just a bowl of white mess. Mine didn’t fare better in that aspect, it just looked like a slab of stake that a pigeon had shat on with that white and green splotch of sauce on the top. Someone should remove my culinary rights.
I waited for the girls to start eating. It wasn’t paranoia, I knew the food wasn’t poisoned, even if I did think about it. My mind was too imaginative for its sake. No, I just wanted to register their first impressions in my mind.
I wasn’t the type of person to be or get happy eating, but it certainly filled my heart with joy seeing people who did enjoy the food. Makoto and Mérida’s expressions were tender. One almost analyzed her meal with her serious yet smiling visage, whilst the other was in an unadulterated bliss.
They ignored my gaze and focused on their food, the time for talking had ended. Once I had enough blackmailing material, I started with my food.
There was a primal desire to just grab the steak and shove it into my face, slashing it with my canines. And I would have done just that if I were alone. We evolved hands and teeth for a reason. But I could read the room, so I grabbed a knife and cut it. Even though the knife was sharp enough to make me bleed with a suggestion alone, I found resistance in the meat. It seems my petition for tough meat has been respected.
I picked a sliced piece and let it bleed on the plate, the blood mixing with the sauce, before guiding it to my mouth.
“Hmm.” I groaned in surprise.
It was good. The meat was chewy and salty, but unfortunately, that was all I could say. I was probably the polar opposite of a gourmand. There was a reason why I never ate alone, and if I did, it was just supplements. I faked my enjoyment so I wouldn’t interrupt the girl’s. It wasn’t that I had some kind of sickness or lacked taste buds, I just didn’t enjoy food. Nor drink.
My life was grey, and the only spice I had was in the shape of an immovable volcano and an unstoppable tsunami.
I was the first to finish as I didn’t degust my food much. I gave a look to a camera and the owner sent me the transaction petition on my interface.
27.560 computes
The number flared before my eyes. This restaurant wasn’t meant for students. That was two years of allowance. Two years in one plate. I doubted humans could afford this if they didn’t find success on their Tycoon or were Influential and above.
I slapped the table and stood up.
“I feel unwell, I’ll take my leave now,” I stated dryly.
“What about the dessert?” Mérida talked with her mouth still full.
“I’ll have my transaction window open, feel free to ask for one.” I eyed the camera. “One.” The lens of the circular ceiling camera heaved up and down. “Farewell, we will see us at a later date.”
I rushed out of the locale before I acted unwisely.