26. Nocturne Artemis
Leaving the Scrap Nest behind, we set off toward the starport where the cargo ship awaited. Looking back, I saw the tourists visiting the Scrap Nest buzzing with excitement.
Everyone seemed astonished at the sight of us emerging from such a remote place, driving a gleaming, brand-new lunar rover. Some even pulled out their smartphones, recording videos to broadcast toward Mars.
"Looks like we're getting pretty famous on Mars," Kana said cheerfully, peering at her wireless terminal, but I couldn't muster any interest.
I just kept driving.
The unpaved, uneven surface of the vacuum deep sea rushed beneath us as if showcasing the rover's prowess. We climbed the crater's edge, pushing through lunar rover wreckage. Zero Strike was sturdy enough to easily traverse the debris, sometimes bouncing it aside, moving powerfully and smoothly at high speed.
No navigation, radar, or LIDAR was needed. The cargo ship's starport was clearly visible, and all we had to do was head straight toward Earth.
I gripped the steering wheel loosely, subtly adjusting the accelerator to match the terrain's bumps. Our average speed was over seven times faster than when Kana and I had sprinted at full speed.
Even with a relaxed mindset, we moved astonishingly fast and effortlessly.
The scenery flowing by was rich with variety, perfect for Kana, who hated monotony. The lunar wilderness stretching before us, scattered wreckage, and the distant glow of Earth all heightened the pure joy of the drive.
Kana gazed out the window, occasionally letting out small gasps of awe, clearly savoring the landscape.
As we passed through the Sea of Tranquility, the scenery shifted dramatically, as if crossing a border.
A sign reading "Sea of Tranquility: End" stood there, and like a marathon runner breaking the finish tape, I raised both hands in a victory pose while driving Zero Strike.
But the moment I looked around, the desolate lunar wilderness vanished, replaced by a holographic cityscape of a bustling night.
At the city's entrance, where the highway began, a neon-lit billboard greeted us three machines:
"Welcome to Nocturne Artemis."
The name stirred my memory.
The city of eternal night—the last city humans supposedly built on the Moon. No matter how much sunlight it bathed in, it swallowed light like a black hole, reversing day and night with artificial brilliance, filled with maddeningly vibrant chaos.
A city populated entirely by humanoid robots, said to have the highest population density on the Moon. That was all I knew about Nocturne Artemis.
"Nocturne Artemis, huh…" Kana murmured thoughtfully.
"I used to live here before moving to the Silver Forest."
"Really?" I said, surprised. "You moved?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"It's so noisy here. Even though it's called Nocturne."
Indeed, the name "Nocturne" evoked a quiet lullaby, but the city before us was like a bustling nightlife district.
Not a cacophony of sound, but a calculated chaos that overstimulated the senses—sight, touch, everything—mixing them like a shaken cocktail, forcibly igniting exhilaration.
"Whoa," Zero Strike piped up. "My tires suddenly feel lighter."
Looking down, the uneven lunar surface had given way to smooth asphalt.
After relying on dampers and stabilizers in the rugged terrain, Zero Strike slowed by about 5 kilometers per hour as it touched the polished, flat road, as if tickled.
I hadn't eased off the accelerator, but I had no complaints about the judgment. Instead, I shifted into tourist mode, taking in the city's scenery with leisure.
The vibrant, colorful city was a feast for the eyes. I let go of the steering wheel, entrusting Zero Strike with autonomous driving, and let myself be captivated by the city's glow. Kana murmured softly, "It hasn't changed."
Her voice carried a hint of loneliness.
Unable to respond to a city I was visiting for the first time, I glanced at her cheek. Her profile, bathed in neon light, seemed to blend seamlessly with the city.
Why had she left this place?
"So, is the cargo ship's starport in this city?" I cut to the chase.
The noisy atmosphere threatened to overwhelm me, and I needed a topic to stay focused.
"Yeah, it's here," Kana answered promptly. "But I don't know the exact location. I heard it's somewhere on the city's outskirts."
"I see. You've never been there?"
"Nope. That area's off-limits to humanoid robots."
"Huh," I tilted my head. "That's odd. A cargo ship that transports humanoid robots to Earth, but humanoid robots aren't allowed?"
"More precisely, it's off-limits to humanoid robots who haven't been sold to humans."
"Hmm…"
A whiff of irony made me want to pinch my nose.
"Sounds kinda discriminatory, doesn't it? Dividing robots into sold and unsold."
"But treating unsold robots the same as sold ones could also be seen as discrimination, right?"
"Yeah, maybe."
What's the square of irony?
Math isn't my strong suit, so I gave up thinking about it and shifted focus to what lay ahead.
"So, any humanoid robots or sources in this city who might know the starport's location? Kana, don't you have any friends or acquaintances here?"
"I did, but it's been a while. They might've all been sold and sent to Earth by now," Kana said with a self-deprecating tone.
I tapped her cheek 3.5 times, like sending a Morse code signal, forcing a smile onto her face before making a suggestion. "There might still be some unsold robots like us. Why don't we visit your old acquaintances? We need information."
"Even if we meet them, it might not help," Kana replied reluctantly. "The people in this city don't know the starport's location. The mayor prohibits that knowledge. Unless you're sold to a human, you can't normally find out the starport's address."
"So, most of the city's residents don't know where it is?"
"Yeah," Kana nodded. "They're not interested either. They care about humans, not the starport itself. It's just a tool for humans."
"But the tool itself is interesting."
Kana tapped my cheek lightly in return. "That kind of weird thinking is probably unique to you on the Moon, Neo-kun."
"Well, I'm human, after all."
For a split second, a sharp pain gripped my chest, as if my CPU had a seizure, but it vanished in 0.0001 seconds.
A small price for the lie, it seemed.
As if deliberately building immunity, I layered lie upon lie.
Seizure upon seizure.
"Humans and humanoid robots have completely different thought circuits. Understanding each other is tough."
"What? So I'll never understand you, Neo-kun? I don't want that!" Kana's eyes looked ready to spill tears, but I quickly realized it was exaggerated acting. So, I countered with an operatic, theatrical expression.
"It's because we can't understand each other that we're drawn together."
Zero Strike, driving ahead, turned its head and chimed in. "Can you cut the chatter? What's the plan from here?"
Its voice carried a hint of irritation.
"Without a set destination, I'm getting out of sync. I feel like I'm gonna discharge. Pick a place already."
"Oh, sorry, sorry. Let's head to the city's information center."
"Where's that?"
"Probably near the busiest station, right? Just look around. You've got search functions, don't you?"
"Of course," Zero Strike said with a touch of pride. "Kana built me, after all."
It dove into its search world, falling silent for a moment.
Three seconds later, it responded. "Found it. Heading to the information center."
"Cool, thanks."
Blending into the deep night, unknowingly growing excited, we set off toward the information center to learn the starport's location.