act47side

A most remarkable speech, Mr. Vice President.

People were moved to tears, even in the Rhine lounge.

I didn't think I would move the most eccentric, most maverick scientists of Columbia.

But I've received enough flowers, banners, strongly worded letters of support, and soldier figures painted in my likeness over the last few hours.

Not from Rhine.

...For the better, I suppose. Let's get back to the topic at hand.

How should we define that 'tree' floating in the sky, from a scientific perspective?

If you really want to know the scientific principles behind it, I could spend the whole afternoon explaining how its roots will spread across the land, and its branches and leaves across the sky.

From a scientific perspective, however, all you need to know is that when it is fully grown, it will be able to collect energy and information from across Columbia and process it centrally.

You mean... an energy well like the S.H.A.F.T., but on a national scale?

And a server, too. Bidirectional, to boot.

The roots and branches go both ways—not only from the ground to the sky, but also from the sky to the ground.

Haha.

No need to force yourself to understand these things. You can zone out the way you did when you visited our Trimounts headquarters.

It was your words that saved the tree when dozens of guns from the Department of Defense and hundreds of cameras from Maylander media were pointed at it.

Miss Wilson's words truly tugged at the heartstrings. Even an old man like me couldn't help but think back to the wild days of youth.

I see.

And there I was, thinking that it was because you didn't want to give away the chance to define this tree to Maylander or the Department of Defense.

An exhibition, a speech, Sky Fever and patriotism have made you the overwhelming darling of public opinion over the other candidates, in the span of just a few hours.

But have you thought about the future you would need to paint, in order to not let your supporters down?

Or was it always your plan to improvise your speech?

You know about the understanding between Kristen and the Department of Defense. Kristen would build Arc-01, and it was none of Rhine's business who the DOD used it against.

Since I already have the authority to define this tree, I don't suppose it would have broken through the Starpod before everyone's eyes, if I didn't discuss with Rhine when defining it?

Of course you don't have to discuss with anyone, be it Nasti, myself, the generals, the lawmakers, or that plushie on your shoulder.

...Hehe.

I take back what I said about you when I was chatting with my secretary.

What do you mean?

You're easier to deal with than Kristen.

State your demands.

Lift the lockdown on Propeller Paradise and allow the escaped plate to return to the capital's route for repairs. As to those involved in the incident...

'Escaped'? That's not how D.C. will define what has happened.

Researchers who stand on the front lines of Columbian science would never flee in the face of foreign sabotage, would they?

What else?

Lift the lockdown on Rhine Lab... you know what I'm talking about.

You and I should hold an official meeting as soon as possible. You can't ask the government to undo something we haven't done. We've only ever been curious...

What can Rhine Lab do?

Seriously, is no one sleeping tonight? I should have held some night wilderness tours.

Heh. You just wouldn't stay still, would you, even when the plate's broken down.

I could say the same about you. You look like a clerk gazing blankly at the sky outside after coming back from vacation.

Well... I was scared, but also excited, when we started fighting the Maylander people.

You almost scared ME when you tried to bite that agent's finger off.

I'm not really an emotional guy. The last time I was so excited was when I got approved for that Sky Loan.

The loan shark was showing off levitating devices at the entrance to the local bar. There were so many people watching that they broke the fence.

In the end, it wasn't education or economic circumstances that decided who got the loan, but who could fly a drone the highest and furthest.

Which was how you ended up being the sucker who got scammed into it.

That night, I stupidly bragged to my wife, showing off the finger I used to move the control stick and win a chance for the future...

It was only a few days later that you realized there was no battery in the controller at all.

Yeah, I should never trust myself when blood gets into my head.

But you still charged the blockade with us without a second thought, didn't you?

Yeah. Now we're like cystybeasts to the slaughter in the wilderness, waiting for the government to decide our future...

I feel like an onion thrown into a washing machine, getting layers after layers peeled off in these tides of fevers...

Do you want to escape the washing machine, or do you want to be more than a powerless onion?

Hm...

A few years ago, I had an idea while going into the Bleached Wasteland for the third time.

If I sneaked inside with a truckload of pure gold ore, and took it through the border checkpoint in broad daylight...

Columbians would forget all the terrifying legends in the blink of an eye and begin another Great Expansion, and it wouldn't be much different from what we're going through.

Even if it began with a bored tour guide rather than a scientist who split the sky; even if it was a hoax rather than a milestone.

We always try to see new possibilities inside the door marked 'impossible', to escape the laws of common sense that seem to have no end, to go somewhere else and live a different life.

You, me, the hundreds of Propeller Paradise testers, even that Rhine researcher assistant, Sky... we're all the same.

The onion can't get out of the washing machine...

But we can remember why we chose to go inside.

If the government doesn't hang us all for treason tonight, I want to stay on Propeller Paradise, run Lucky Cystybeast, and pay my debts.

Can you deliver a letter to my wife? I don't really trust regular Messengers.

Would you like to join Ferne's Tours? I could deliver YOU.

I don't believe it. There can't be a single scientist on Terra like you.

(Sound of hammering)

How did you meet Gustave? Did you know about his and Maylander's plan?

(Sound of metal being polished)

Shame I never actually got to teach him a lesson. The old fox ran off with Maylander's people after the levitation layer fell.

He was taken away in handcuffs.

Handcuffs? Ha! He wanted me to take the fall for Propeller Paradise, but he's the one who ends up going down!

(Sound of metal clanging)

Good.

You've been sitting here the whole day with those pliers and hammers... what are you studying?

I'm preparing for a journey.

The Kuranta gestures to the bottom of his 'shoes'. Only then does Gordon realize that the sound that the Kuranta makes when walking does not come from shoes.

A piece of crescent-shaped metal... nailed to your feet? Doesn't it hurt?

No. Feet are more trustworthy than shoes in treacherous terrain, such as the swamps of Sargon, the icefields of Sami, and the barrenlands of Columbia.

So you don't plan on hiding your identity from me.

My role is insignificant in this entire event.

I simply came to help a friend, and made a new friend along the way.

I do so hate free spirits.

You have enough experience to be my travel companion. But you won't do it.

ATAO's gonna be purged after this accident. Why should I not go back when the old fox no longer has any influence?

Besides, you recognized everything in my collection room. I'll always be inferior to you if I traveled with you.

I'll make good use of all ATAO resources available to me. You won't recognize Five-Four the next time you see it.

I look forward to it.

Is there any place you haven't been? Like beyond the Starpod, I guess?

There are many paths that no one has trodden before.

If there indeed comes a day when humanity stands among the clouds, I will continue to cast my gaze to the land.

I saw you coming this time, Mercia.

It's rare to see you not burying your head in work. Are you waiting for someone?

What about you? Your colleagues already pulled out of Propeller Paradise, before the sun had set.

Another rule of secretaries? You have to be the last one to leave?

Just ran into a bit of trouble when packing.

(Speaks in Sarkaz) Hover.

Oh, thank you. I was wondering how I would get them down there.

Yet you chose the most scenic route, one that would take you around the tree.

I wanted to see the final resting place of Væla... your mother.

Her epitaph is the leaves that grow upon it.