As evening approaches, we finally land in Minoaoa Village. It's a cute-looking, hilly town with several blocks of resorts and some nice scenery. Some of the smaller buildings, though… how to describe it? They look like they've exploded, then suddenly froze before the pieces could properly scatter. "Weird architecture," I mutter. "Or is that what's in nowadays…?"
Vernicia shoves a brochure in my face. "Says here that the explodey parts are made of solid glass. There's a whole history behind it," she explains. Is this one new? How does she pick these up so fast?
"I didn't know you could make glass into shapes that big," Rurin says.
"Well, this place got a huge shipment of sand a few decades ago, due to a typo in the contract," Verni reads. "So they had the sand converted into glass, then used it to decorate some of the buildings here."
"But… how did they do it?" I scratch my head. We've walked by a couple of these bizarre structures already.
"It doesn't say. Which probably means it was done by mages," Vernicia deduces.
"Mages, huh." Diantha activates her iceblade, gazing at its pale, shimmering edge. "I wonder how many are out there."
"Who knows?" Vernicia shrugs. "Seems like you don't need a pointy hat to be one, though. Kind of a bummer."
"Well, you can still wear one if you want," Rurin says.
"Verni could easily rock the look," I nod. "Dia, though… hmm, it might clash with your ensemble actually. Unless mage hats also come in white."
"I was thinking pink or grey, actually," Diantha replies. "Who knows; maybe a full wardrobe change would be in order."
Something suddenly occurs to me. "Hey, you think Master Lee will teach us magic? She's already doing it with Hal and Jetta," I wonder. "It would really help if we could level the playing field with those armored execs."
"Oh! We should get Marc in on it too," Verni suggests. "Like, imagine if we had an AE of our own! He's halfway there already."
"Erm… I feel like he won't be on board," I mutter. "He's a science-technology devout."
"We should go to the station." Diantha points down the main road. "We've kept the landlubbers waiting long enough."
Minoaoa Village's station is bigger than Sectary City's, but nowhere near Ridgeside Station's size. If I had to rate this one, I'd say it's a five. And for comparison, Ridgeside is a… twelve, maybe. And Sectary's is a two.
Soon we find Marc and Hal sitting in an outdoor booth at the station's café.
"Hmm… it isn't possible, but if it isn't possible, how are you guys here? Science always finds a way." Marc appears to be deliberating something. "I've seen the files, you know. There were decades of work put into biotool development. From what I could read, it was extremely research-heavy, with only a little trial and error."
"From what you could read? Maybe it wasn't everything," Hal replies.
"It's a corrupt organization! Of course half of the words were blacked out."
"In essence, you only got half of the story."
Marc crosses his arms. "You're not wrong there. Even still, I wonder…"
"Yoohoo," Vernicia waves.
"Hi, aeronauts," Hal says. "We were just discussing the ramifications behind a biotool's potentially supernatural properties."
"Dude's a lot smarter than he looks," Marc mutters.
I slam my hands on the table. "Did you see that man or any of his lackeys at all?"
"What would they even look like?" Marc shakes his head. "Never mind, we didn't encounter any."
"Now that we're together, let's post up somewhere," Vernicia excitedly proposes. "There are tons highly-rated resorts here."
"Uhm…" I twirl a ponytail. "What do you recommend?"
Verni's grin turns dangerous. "Big mistake!"
On today's Minoaoa Village mega feature: Every inn and resort in the area!
Now you might be thinking, 'Minoaoa isn't that big so it won't take long–'
WRONG, IDIOT! Minoaoa Village earns its reputation as the top tourist trap destination in Steralin for a reason. Make that forty eight reasons! This is the number of five-star hotel-resorts in Minoaoa Village, the most of any city in Aridovia and the second-most in the world! Buckle up, bozos!!
An hour passes. I suddenly snap awake.
"Now then." Vernicia closes the last brochure. "Shall we vote?"
"I'll be honest," Hal states, "most of those sounded the same."
Vernicia rolls her eyes. "Pleb."
"Well… Red Rock Resort, I liked the sound of that," Angelina suggests.
"That one boasts… um, the best view in town, right? I guess that's fine," Diantha says.
"Yes, the hostess, she seems popular," Angie nods.
"Who, the diving instructor?" Marc scratches his head. "Or was that from the other place?"
"Uhh… which other place?" Rurin sounds like his brain is fried.
"Grand Wuthers," Hal calmly answers. "Their gimmick is meh, though. I also vote Red Rock."
Vernicia is still leafing through her pile of brochures. "I kind of wish we'd come here in the spring. A bunch of the hotels host a baking competition around that time."
"Baking, huh… I've always wanted to throw a pie at someone," I murmur, still feeling dazed.
"Well, let's get moving. It's getting late," Vernicia declares. "Red Rock Resort is just down that way and up the hill."
"Let's race. I'm in a running mood," Hal says as we get up.
"Sure," I nod. It might help clear my head a bit.
Once we arrive at Red Rock, I slow to a stop, taking in the sight. The main building has terraces flaring out from either side, and behind it are two much taller buildings with narrow bridges connecting them. I've noticed that most of the resorts on this strip of the town expand way far out behind the main building, so there's probably more I can't see from here. And there are forty-seven more places like this one… I shake my head and continue towards the entrance.
Marc finally catches up, wheezing and bent over. "I've never… actually… raced you guys… before," he huffs.
Hal is with him, noticeably not winded. "Yeah, 'small' seems to be their only flaw," he says.
Marc looks at him, disappointed. "Why're you fine? I thought we were struggle buddies."
Hal shrugs. "I'm a biotool too."
"Bah…"
The concierge up front are all maids wearing fluffy dresses, despite the rock-and-stone architecture. What would happen if a man tried to work here?
After we reserve our grand suite, Vernicia looks over the brochure she snagged. Her pack has to be full by now just from those, right?
"Scenic terraces north and south, eight rock towers, two cliff diving pools, four racetracks, two gyms, a lazy river, twelve zip lines, a shooting range…" Hal hands the brochure back. "This place is a sportsmaster's paradise. Not bad."
"I saw some cool-looking places down the main road, too," Vernicia says. "You think we have time to hit 'em all?"
"Knock yourselves out." I hold up a keycard. "I'll be in our place."
"It is pretty late," Marc mutters.
"What're you on about? The sun's barely set! That's prime time, guys," Vernicia insists.
I stretch my arms. "I dunno. I just don't feel like sifting through all this… tourist junk."
"I resent that. Come on, Dia. Hal, you too." Vernicia spins on her heel to leave.
"Hey! I wanna go too," Rurin says, following them out.
Our grand suite is in the main building, overlooking the north terrace. The floor is cushy – softer than the submarine mansion's floor, but not as soft as my bed in the Seaburgs. That probably means the actual beds here are softer. I shouldn't take that risk.
Marc, however, harbors no such reservations and flops onto a bed. "Yeah, that's nice," he sighs. Whatever, I've got better things to do than relax.
Running diagnostics. Current altitude, approximately ten meters. Note: correction is possible when the sea level difference is less than 500 meters. Note: If Jim is still here, something big might be happening somewhere. Note: that suspicious man's face also changed when this place was brought up. Worth investigating, then. I have to get out of here!
Marc shifts as I rise into the air as a ghost. He looks at my body, then around the room. "You're… doing that thing, aren't you?" He sounds worried.
(Just a spot of scouting,) I reply. (Actually, can you even hear me?)
"Y-yeah…" Marc is hugging his blanket around himself.
I drift closer to him. (Hee hee… boo! I can haunt you.)
"Y-you wouldn't actually do that, though, right?"
(Maaaybe,) I slowly whisper. Sure enough, Marc starts to shiver.
"Shut up! Go do your scouting," he insists. "I don't wanna get nightmares!"
(Hehe… okay, fine.) I flyff through the ceiling, entering the suite above. It's empty, though, so I keep going.
Past that is a well-maintained attic space. A maid is alone by a pile of different-colored boxes, shadowboxing in the candlelight. Her aggressive actions fit her dainty-looking attire even less than the other maids I saw. What an odd uniform.
I continue floating upwards, emerging at the roof. It's wide and lined with pools and sun chairs, but no patrons are here on account of the cold and lack of sun.
I'm about to wander somewhere else, but someone off to the side catches my eye. She's wearing a floral-patterned dress with flared sleeves.
(Hum. the arms seem a bit much. Too easy to catch on stuff,) I evaluate. (Maybe it's a… couture thing? I think that's what Verni called it.)
Somehow, though, she doesn't strike me as a patron. I drift closer, now curious.
Now that I look at her face, I recall the photo on the brochure that Verni had passed around – if I'm not mistaken, she's the hostess and owner of Red Rock Resort.
The hostess walks to the edge of the roof, looking like she's about to jump off. Then she turns back with a sigh. "I won't do it after all."
"Aw, what? Boo," I hear a familiar voice say. Then Travis gets up from one of the sun chairs.
Travis!? What's he doing here? With this important lady! And is that a new helmet?
"My apologies. I don't want to… ruin the dress." The hostess looks regretful. "This type of cloth is expensive to repair, you see."
"Some excuse," Travis scoffs. "You're the protonaut, aren't you? The first and strongest!"
"First success, maybe… but strongest? Quite the opposite, I'm afraid," she sighs, hands on her hips. "There's a reason they never bothered to kill me. I'm a non-factor. I'm not as fast as you, nor am I as tough. My scales aren't even bulletproof."
"You're retired, not dead. That's big in our world," Travis says. "I bet you're still stronger than the average human."
"I… suppose you have a point." The hostess shakes her head, then starts to walk away. "I'll give it some thought. Please pardon me, White Knight."
(Heh! White knight,) I silently scoff. Then Travis launches into the air.
I still have time, so I follow him as he flies over Minoaoa Village. Soon he lands behind a resort near the edge of town and approaches a familiar-looking vehicle. Marc's Tetrider? No, he locked it up at the station. This one looks… sleeker and smaller. A new model, maybe.
Kisha is sitting in the driver's seat of this not-Tetrider, tapping her finger to an unheard beat. After Travis gets in, they drive east, leaving Minoaoa Village and disappearing into the moonlit lowlands.
(East of this town, huh,) I say to myself. (Jim came here, Trav is here, Kisha is here… There really is something going on!)
WHFF!
"…dies? Because she – oh, look. She returned." Hal shifts on his bed to look at me.
Marc silently exhales, but doesn't say anything.
I sit up. "Where's the laptop? I need to check something."
"In Roy's bag. I haven't cracked everything, just so you know," Marc replies, going back to lay down.
"Yeah, I'll grab you if I need to." I open the laptop. More files clutter the desktop than before.
First things first… verify that hostess's identity. I pick up the brochure from a side table. Sure enough, there's her face. And her name – Selphia Wills.
Then I run a document search. One file turns up: 172Set_CANDIDATES.
172-AAA #### #### – terminated, notes recorded
172-ZZZ ###### #### – terminated
172-XXX Selphia Wills – inactive
That's it? Why are the other names blacked out? There are only three people listed instead of four… does that mean her generation had three aeronauts? What happened to the others?
Considering Selphia's age, the aeronaut project was probably set in motion long before we came into being. And if that's true, that means those protoforms I saw… huh, they'd be super old, wouldn't they? They didn't look old. What even is their species?
A few minutes later, I lay back down, laptop on my lap. Nothing else had turned up, not even when I searched protonaut.
I hadn't noticed at first, but Red Rock Resort is the highest point in Minoaoa Village. I bet when this place was built, Selphia got to choose its location. Birds of a feather, right? It's all starting to make sense.
And Jim… well, I don't know anything about his plans. Maybe he crashed that engagement already? I haven't seen him since we arrived.
I rub my eyes and move the laptop aside, laying back on the carpet. I was hoping for more answers, not more questions…