32. The Interview
We stepped inside and closed the door.
At that moment, the sound of rain reached our ears.
Though it wasn't raining outside the diner, the view from inside showed rain pouring down.
As I pondered the mechanism behind this, the calm child's voice from earlier cut through.
"It's not the Moon outside this diner."
"Then where is it?" Kana asked, her face brimming with curiosity.
"Earth," the girl replied.
Kana's voice lit up even more.
"Earth?! Are we already on Earth?"
"No, no," the girl corrected. "I mean, outside this diner *looks* like Earth. The diner itself isn't on Earth."
"So, if we go outside, we'll be on Earth?" I asked skeptically.
The same calm voice responded.
"No, if you go outside, you're back on the Moon. It's a bit of a complicated setup here."
"I see…"
Deciding to set aside the confusing explanation, I looked around the diner's interior.
It was a cozy yet spacious place, perfect for a rainy day. The warmth of old wood and a soothing scent, reminiscent of the master's calm voice, filled the air, creating a comforting atmosphere.
"Nice place," I muttered.
The master flashed an adorable smile.
"Thank you."
The master was a young girl who looked about nine years old.
Her face was that of a child just back from elementary school, but her tea-colored eyes carried the serene depth of a sea turtle that had lived for tens or hundreds of thousands of years.
I instinctively knew she was a much older model than me.
"What'll you have to drink?" she asked, brushing her short, white hair with one hand, her demeanor like that of a reserved boy.
"Got any water?" I asked.
"Of course," she replied. "And for her?"
"I'll have the same as Neo-kun," Kana said.
The master turned to the back, toward what looked like a kitchen—or rather, a sink, counter, or perhaps a cocktail bar—and carefully prepared two glasses of water over the course of about thirty seconds, placing them on the counter.
"Here you go. Sit, sit."
We took our seats after the drinks were served, about two-thirds of the way down the long bar counter.
"Try it," the master said. "Ever had water before?"
"No, it's my first time," I said.
"Me too," Kana added.
"Then take it slow. Don't upset your stomachs."
I nervously picked up the transparent glass of water, a liquid made of two oxygen atoms and one hydrogen atom, brought to this place on the Moon.
As I took a sip, my taste sensors reacted instantly. The tongue sensors, never used before, panicked at the unfamiliar phenomenon of "taste," spitting out a flood of errors.
"...!"
A sudden headache hit me, and my CPU began overheating.
I clutched my head with both hands.
After 0.5 seconds, the headache subsided, and I could finally savor the sensation of "taste."
It was the moment a new sense awakened.
"It's… good," I said, letting out an honest exclamation.
Kana, who had downed her glass in one go, chimed in.
"Delicious!"
The master's brown eyes sparkled, and she tilted her head slightly, as if bowing.
"Thank you."
We became engrossed in the water, absorbed in the act of drinking. Kana asked for refills multiple times, drinking eagerly.
Even after drinking so much, there was still room in our systems, and we finally got to the main topic.
The sound of rain seemed to grow a little louder.
"So?" the master asked, resting her chin on her hand with a curious expression.
"You want to board the cargo ship, right?"
"Huh?" I was startled. "You knew?"
"I have the ability to read humanoid robots' minds," she said.
"What?" I was even more shocked. "That's like hacking, isn't it?"
"That's a harsh way to put it," the master said with a mischievous, devilish smile. "It's mind-reading."
I panicked.
As a humanoid robot, I felt cold sweat on my back from the sheer embarrassment.
Then, the master spoke in a soft yet sharp voice, as if peering into my mind.
"Don't worry, kid. My lips are heavier than the sun."
"…"
"You know, right? There's nothing in this solar system heavier than the sun."
"I get that, but…"
"Then you don't need to worry anymore, do you?"
"…Alright."
A brief silence flowed, quiet like the light reflecting off the water-filled glass.
Next, Kana asked the master, "So, you know exactly why we want to board the cargo ship, don't you?"
"Well…"
But the master's youthful face clouded for a moment, as if facing a complex mathematical proof.
She looked between me and Kana, continuing thoughtfully.
"So, you want to know about humans?"
"Not just know about them…" I hurriedly spoke up. "I want to return to Earth. I'm human, so I must have originally been on Earth. But for some reason, I'm here on the Moon now. I don't have any memory of how this happened… Anyway, I think if I go back to Earth, I might recover my old memories, figure out why I'm here."
"Hmm," the master said, crossing her arms and staring at me intently. "So, you're trying to go to Earth to recover lost memories?"
"Yes!" I nodded firmly. "I think of Earth like a database for my memories, like an external drive. Surely, there…"
But the more I spoke, the more I realized my explanation was becoming incoherent.
It was the classic human moment of stumbling over words while lying.
Glancing at Kana, I saw her blue eyes trembling with worry.
I hurriedly tried to patch up my words.
"Anyway, I want to go to Earth to recover my memories."
"But," the master interjected calmly, "memories can be made on the Moon, too, right?"
"That's true, but…" A hint of irritation crept in. "For some reason, memories on the Moon fade quickly. Maybe it's because of the Moon's weak gravity…"
Suddenly, inspiration struck, and my words gained momentum.
"Yes! Gravity! The Moon's gravity is weak, so memories don't stick properly. Even the memories from when I was on Earth—they all just floated away into the cosmos when I came to the Moon. So, if I go to Earth, my memories, bound by stronger gravity, must be stored somewhere!"
"No, kid," the master shook her head. "Memories and gravity aren't related."
"…"
Her words left me speechless.
To distract from the awkwardness, I grabbed the half-empty glass and downed the water in one gulp, as if swallowing cold sweat.
"Anyway," the master took over, "I understand your situation. You two want to board the cargo ship to Earth, right?"
"Yes," Kana answered clearly in my place, as I was at a loss for words.
The master uncrossed her arms and stepped down from her stool.
Due to the height of the bar counter, her small figure briefly vanished from sight. But light footsteps echoed from behind the bar, and soon she reappeared in front of us, walking around the counter.
Dressed in a suit but barefoot, she made a peculiar sound with each step.
It was as if a gentle F chord played when I looked at her, shifting to a C chord when I looked away—a strange harmony.
"Follow me," she said with a languid expression, as if yawning, beckoning to Kana and me.
We stepped down from our stools and approached her. She cast a calculating glance at us, as if weighing us on a scale, then turned on her heel and started walking.
Kana and I followed behind.
Instead of heading to the front of the diner, she led us toward the back, where a heavy velvet curtain swayed, separating the diner from the kitchen. She gently lifted it, and we followed her inside.
It wasn't a kitchen but a vast backyard-like space.
A softly glowing ivory lawn stretched out, like a high school sports field expanded tenfold into a runway.