Soured Hymn

“So this is the Ministry of Agriculture,” said Himeko, staring upwards at the tall and opulent curved building that sat in a plaza alongside the city’s town hall. It was stately, with golden accents and a gold, domed roof. Like a tree topper, a rotating cornucopia sat on the very tip of its roof. A similar one was in front of it, though it was part of a fountain and spat water into it. Glittering coins sparkled in the water, some modern and others remnants of civilizations that fell long before Urania’s construction. “It's impressive.”

“Yeah, it really is. If you feed the whole country, you get a whole ‘bunch’ of income.” Laughed Kōrō, marching up the grandiose stairs that led to the Ministry.

Himeko gave him a deadpan stare once she’d climbed the stairs. “That was awful.”

“Eh, I think it was pretty good~”

Himeko shook her head in fond exasperation as two silicone-tipped robots held open the doors for them. “I think you need to get your head checked.”

Sunlight reflected off the golden tapestries that greeted them inside the Ministry. A robot clad in white vestiges stopped in front of Kōrō. It wore soft light jewelry and had small dots on its pale gray face. Himeko hid the ones on her own face with her palms.

“Mr. Asaumi,” it murmured with a bow, its voice melodic and a gentle tenor as it opened its eyes. They were bright and looked over Himeko inquisitively. She hid behind Kōrō as the robot continued to speak. “The Minister is waiting for you. Shall I lead you and Miss Zaiyabōto there?”

Himeko felt herself relax a little. Kōrō nodded and the robot motioned for them to follow it. “Then follow me, young master Asaumi.”

“I told you before, Angel: you don’t need to call me that.”

“But it is the respect due to your family, young master, for all you have done for Olyhymna.”

Kōrō sighed. “Alright then.”

As the robot, Angel, led them through the Ministry, Himeko leaned in close to her human companion. “So… ‘young master,’ huh?”

“Not you too,” whined Kōrō.

“I'm only teasing~ Soooo…what's the story behind that? Why are you ‘young master Asaumi?”

“My entire family are hard light architects, and they built Olyhymna in the era after your…death. That’s why they call me that. My family and I only moved to New Urania a few months ago for my father's job.”

“Interesting,” Himeko murmured as Angel stopped before a door and bowed, hiding her true thoughts. She recognized that name, Asaumi, but from where, she didn't know. It made her feel warm, though, as she looked at its present bearer. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“It's not a big deal at all,” said Kōrō, entering the room behind Angel.

A man in a dazzling white suit drew on holograms. With a modern and sleek version of a hard light stylus in hand, every stroke made fantastical diagrams with one hand and the other scrolled through endless pages of more data. A projection of numerous farming techniques and machinery separated him from Kōrō and Himeko. Stress clung to his expressions, but he brightened upon seeing Kōrō.

“Asaumi!” he said, putting away the projections with a wave of his gloved hand. “Just the young man I wanted to see. Do you have the documents ready?”

“Yes, Mr. Demeter, and a fully rendered prototype.” Said Kōrō.

He left Himeko behind as he walked forward, pulling his stylus from behind his ear and pressing a small button bellow its nib. Immediately, a small, fully 3D hologram of what looked like an intricate shelving system projected from a changed nib. (It was modded to work with holograms? Had he done it himself?)

The suited Mr. Demeter used his stylus to drag the projection to the center of the room, where three large projectors descended from the ceiling. The room darkened until the projection provided the only light. They flicked on and like magic, the prototype transferred from the stylus to the projectors, now significantly enlarged. Himeko’s eyes widened from her shadow of the room.

Mr. Demeter murmured to himself as he investigated the prototype. He looked sharply at Kōrō from behind his glasses. “Can you populate it so I can understand its layout more?”

“Yes, Mr. Demeter, of course.” Kōrō opened the small panel from the projector on his wrist, tapping quickly a few times before the projection changed. Vegetation filled out its crooks and crannies, and simulated water pumped from pores within the surface and through the entirety of the shelf. There were small, whorl-like pockets between each “plot.”

“With this design, each plant would receive ample sunlight and nutrients, since there's unrestricted movement between the different tiles. And, since it would be programmable, the whorls can be used to synthesize growth hormones and necessary nutrients, leading to a high yield with minimal input or cost. As long as the right amino acids are programmed into one, then they should, theoretically, replicate endlessly in the other whorls until reprogrammed and supplied.”

A thoughtful look overtook Mr. Demeter’s face as he rotated the diagram. “Was this developed in conjunction with Nakamura Labs? Or Blue Moon?”

“No, just readily available materials.”

“True genius. I knew I was right to trust your father’s recommendation. If it succeeds, Olyhymna will be able to feed everyone – even those on the frontier.” Mr. Demeter sighed, turning away from Kōrō before mumbling to himself. “The frontier cities…this may not be enough to save them without their own HCIPs.”

He looked back at Kōrō. “I’d like to test your design alongside my fellow researchers, Mr. Asaumi, but first we must add this to the wondrous mind that runs our city. Miss Zaiyabōto, you're invited to come along.”

Himeko blinked in surprise. She nodded, catching up with Kōrō as a door opened in the far back of the room and Mr. Demeter began walking towards it.

“Congrats,” she whispered.

Shifting on his feet uncomfortably, Kōrō didn't meet her eyes. “…Thanks.”

Angel strode past them, but when they didn't follow, it lingered in the doorway, its eyes blinking an uncanny yellow that cut through the darkness. “Young master Asaumi, Miss Zaiyabōto; are you not coming with?”

“We are.” Mumbled Kōrō. He joined the robot across the room, and although Himeko followed, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone or something other than the robot was watching them.

The two of them followed Angel down a long and dark corridor of black panels. Himeko’s hands glided across them. They responded to her touch with ripples of light, their reflections dancing on Angel’s body. The further they walked, the stronger the the scents of salt water and jasmine became, until they reached the end and the scents were so strong it was if someone had soaked the floors in perfume. It made Himeko feel faint.

“My apologies,” said Mr. Demeter, sliding a door open. “He only cooperates if we spray that.”

Before she could ask what he meant, Himeko got her answer. A HCIP cube, as dark as the sea at sunset, sat on a platform suspended in midair. Flowers she’d never seen and hadn't existed in her time grew intertwined with the cube and its platform, leaving the only clear space for a tablet-like screen. A name plate was next to it, reading Asaumi Yoshita in two languages: Universe Script, and Japanese.

Himeko froze.

She knew that name. She knew its owner. She remembered the excitement on his face at the first successful use of hard light – a simple box that would become a core foundation of the future. They'd worked together, developed the Protocol together, and maybe, had she not died, become more than just friends.

He was one more person Himeko had left behind. And when she looked at his descendant, equally brilliant, gentle, and handsome with the same round azure eyes and same curl to hs his hair around his ears, she thought she might be sick.

How had Himeko managed to forget? She felt monstrous, as if forgetting Asaumi Yoshita was the final nail in the coffin that she, whoever this iteration of 'Zaiyabōto Himeko’ might be, wasn't human after all. Would the Himeko in the Cube have forgot? She didn't know if she wanted the answer, but a sickly feeling curled up in her artificial stomach when she thought about what it would be.

“Miss Zaiyabōto,” Angel murmured, its fingers smooth as they held her shoulder just a touch too tight. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered back. Her eyes met Kōrō’s, and she looked away a second later, wordlessly.

Mr. Demeter and the cube worked in silence for a few minutes, the only thing breaking it was the low whirling hum of the cube’s internals. He called Kōrō over a few times and he would insert something or adjust another thing as needed, and Himeko felt herself possessed when she walked up to the cube. She touched it, shivering from its freezing cold surface, and frowned when lights appeared in the shape of her hand as she removed it.

She looked at Mr. Demeter. “May I?”

He nodded, moving out of the way, and Himeko slotted into his place. Her hands ghosted the screen. She felt wrong touching ‘his body’ with these hands. These awful, inhuman hands. Himeko would sully him, just as she would surely sully Kōrō –

Himeko, text appeared on the screen in Asaumi Yoshita’s handwriting, the letters dotted with little cats like she’d always liked. Is that you?

Before she could respond, a clawed hand wrapped around her wrist and she froze.

Mr. Demeter stepped into view wearing a pearly grin. “Miss Zaiyabōto, meet Miss Shusoin – our manager of the HCIP and Takamagahara Protocol here in Olyhymna.”