Episode 9: The First Meal (10g)
“Not exactly a refreshing wake-up…”
After nightfall, she had decided to sleep early. Perhaps due to accumulated mental fatigue, drowsiness hit her hard. Upon waking, she drank the water Ringo had prepared for her. It was cold and served in a metal cup, possibly made during the night.
“Good morning, Commander Ma’am. Regarding food…”
“Alright… I’ll listen.”
She’d considered postponing the report, but seeing Ringo’s unusually happy expression prompted her to hear it out.
“Yes, Commander Ma’am. Scientific tests found no issues with the shellfish, fish, and seaweed collected yesterday. Salt from the purified water plant can also be used, so we can try preparing a meal.”
Honestly, she was quite hungry. However, eating a large amount immediately wasn’t an option; she’d likely only be able to eat a small portion. With a slight sense of disappointment, she got out of bed.
“Let’s have the automated cooker handle the preparation. Can you take care of it?”
“Yes, Commander Ma’am. I’ll start with a 10-gram serving of fish muscle for protein.”
Nodding, she went to the bathroom to relieve herself. Though she’d only had water, expelling any excess fluid was necessary. It was uncomfortable, but unavoidable.
After finishing in the bathroom, she returned to the command room, determined to allocate some resources to improving her living conditions.
(At the very least, I need to do something about toilet paper!)
The bidet helped with cleanliness, but without anything to dry off with, it was time-consuming. Thankfully, there was a warm air feature.
(And I need towels. A shower requires towels. I’d also appreciate a change of clothes, at least by tomorrow.)
While The Tree’s climate control kept the environment comfortable, making sweating rare, that didn’t mean her clothes stayed clean. Not to mention, her own cleanliness.
“Hey, Ringo, can we make towels and a change of clothes?”
“Yes, production is possible, Ma’am.”
She exhaled in relief at the answer.
“Then please make a few of each. I can’t keep going …”
“Roger. I’ll adjust task priorities. Note that they’ll be synthetic fibers, not natural.”
“That’s fine… I assume the raw material is petroleum?”
Glancing at the composition chart on the integrated console, she saw the synthetic fibers would be made from nylon, sewn using the multi-printer. It looked like the items could be ready in a few minutes.
“I should’ve done this yesterday instead of holding back… my mistake.”
“Yes, I apologize, Commander Ma’am. I should have suggested it yesterday.”
“…No, that’s not on you, Ringo. It was my oversight, not a failure on your part.”
Sensing Ringo’s slight dejection, she reassured it, then took a deep breath to plan for the day. She remembered that maintenance on the solar-powered Swift reconnaissance plane should be complete, so she’d confirm its takeoff and calculate its operational range. Then, she’d try the prepared fish and monitor her condition.
(Taste-testing for myself… Well, no choice. I’ll eat, then stay in the medical pod for a while. I can work from there.)
The medical pod would allow immediate treatment for any toxic reaction, including gastric flushing and emergency surgery if needed. If worse came to worst, they could perform a blood transfusion. Though thorough tests had been conducted, unknown toxins remained a high risk. Yet, without trying, she’d risk starvation. The medical pod’s settings were adjusted to prioritize brain preservation. As long as her brain survived, options remained.
(I’d prefer not to become a fully mechanized body with only my brain remaining…)
Recreating her body through cultivation was likely possible. In her original world, this technology was strictly controlled, but here, there was no governing body to monitor it. She had confirmed relevant information in the library and considered it a last-resort insurance.
“Ma’am, your meal is ready.”
“Thank you. Can you bring it to the medical bay? I’ll head there now.”
The preliminary tests had shown no major concerns. She’d eat and observe her reaction for about eight hours; if everything seemed fine, she’d consider it safe. By gradually trying new foods, she could diversify her diet over the next few days. As sample variety increased, testing accuracy would improve. Someday, she’d be able to eat without worry.
“Ma’am, here you go.”
The robotic server controlled by Ringo offered her a plate with a small portion of white fish sautéed with salt.
She speared the piece, about the size of her fingertip, with a fork and placed it in her mouth. She chewed slowly, taking in the flavor before swallowing.
“It’s hard to tell with such a small amount… but it’s not bad.”
The salt was just right, though the fish’s natural taste was hard to discern. Still, it wasn’t unpleasant.
“Thank you, Ma’am. If there are no issues, I’ll serve half a fillet this evening.”
After eating, her stomach seemed to rumble with intensified hunger. But she held back. By evening, she’d get a small portion, and if no issues arose overnight, she could finally eat her fill.
“By the way, this fish species is available regularly, correct?”
“Yes, Commander Ma’am. Some have already been kept alive in a makeshift holding tank. Also, our surveys indicate they are abundant around these reefs.”
“Good to hear. After all the effort, it’d be a shame if they became scarce…”
Then again, she’d specifically requested harvesting species likely to be sustainable.
“Tomorrow, we’ll conduct an edibility test on the seaweed, Ma’am. With both fish and seaweed, we should be able to avert the risk of starvation for the time being.”
“Right. As long as I’m getting protein and minerals, I should survive.”
She returned the plate to the automated machine and lay down in the medical pod.
“Vitals check… all readings normal. Monitoring will continue.”
“Blood glucose levels are low, so I’ll administer a nutrient IV.”
As the pod’s robotic arms efficiently handled her care, she glanced over at the information window.
“Now then. Swift solar-powered reconnaissance planes are… ready for takeoff. Let’s launch them.”
“Roger. Swift 1 and Swift 2 will take off.”
On the short runway extending through The Tree fortress, two planes awaited. Designed for high-altitude, long-duration flights, they could ascend to 20 kilometers and stay aloft for over 500 hours. With two operating at all times, they’d monitor a broad area. In a few days, new aircraft would be rolled out, with a long-term plan to maintain surveillance within a 1,000-kilometer radius.
Today, monitoring these planes would be her main task.
She’d also keep an eye on the underwater drones’ exploration, as whatever they collected would eventually become her meals—a priority in its own right.