Chapter Text
Gen closed the door safely behind them, checking the lock.
"Hm? Gen, what are you doing there?"
He spared a smile for the visitor in his pleasant clay-walled suite. Regional adjustment had been tricky to figure out, with the majority of skilled resources going to the international scientific development team's work. Most communities used housing from around four, five centuries before the petrification.
"Just ensuring our privacy. Can I get you any tea? Coffee? Juice?" he offered.
"Coffee, please! Mm, the stuff here is good."
"I must say, it's one reason for my engthy-lay stay."
Gliding past the visitor, Gen knelt by the portable stove, a thick stoneware tray beneath a thinner dish lined with sand, and struck a few sparks into the tinderbox. It was second nature by now. The angle of the flint, the force of grip he needed to keep the stone from knocking it right out of his hand, it was all as practised as riding a bike.
The fire caught after a few tries. Blowing on it caught the oil-soaked wood chips, which caught the charcoal, which smouldered away merrily in the small compartment.
"What are they using for construction, here?" his guest wondered aloud. Not sparing a thought for the owner, he was staring and tapping at the walls like he was looking for a wired bug.
Gen laughed. "My dear Chrome! I'm flattered that you think I would have it figured out better than you."
He filled the coffee urn with some not-so-old water, then nestled it in the heated sand and added a spoonful of grounds. That would simmer up into a delightfully tasty brew once the fire got going.
"I don't know, you've lived here!"
Leaving his inspection behind, Chrome ambled over to the stove. In spite of the heat it served as the centrepiece to the room. What could Gen say! He liked to entertain, and he wasn't clumsy enough that he'd stumble over it on a midnight outhouse run.
"All I can tell you is that it's clay-based," he answered. "The storms that can come through would destroy anything that was only wood, and besides, we don't want anything catching fire."
Chrome stared somewhere over his shoulder, lost in thought. "If I had to guess, it's clay brick with a wood frame. But this inside wall…has to be a clay-straw composite. I wonder how they fired it?"
"I'm sure you could ask," said Gen. "The first developers in all of the regions are all too een-kay to talk with their counterparts, if you ask me."
Chrome beamed. "Thanks, Gen! I absolutely will."
The mind of a scientist was something you had to cultivate. Gen rarely worried about the given things in life, even in the second Stone Age. If something was within your capabilities, it was, as simple as that. If it wasn't? Well, that was someone else's problem. It wasn't like watching people. Gen never itched with the urge to straighten out a crooked beam like he did to smooth over a conversation.
Still, that didn't mean he didn't respect scientists. On the contrary, Gen's lack of understanding made craftspeople and researchers more amazing than just scientists. Kaseki's hands, the same hands he had, could weave glass at temperatures that would melt your face off. And Chrome here could take a glance at this building and spent the rest of the day thinking about where each part of it could have come from, and what would have been a better use of the materials.
Speaking of—the coffee was now bubbling as Gen shifted the pot around the sand, and Chrome was still figuring it out, holding his hands at different angles along the small gap between the trays to feel the airflow over the coals. It was up to Gen to keep the exchange of information going.
"So, what brings you here? The Gold Coast is rich in minerals, certainly, but I didn't expect it to be just you," he said lightly.
"Huh?" Chrome tuned back in. "Oh, I wanted to see you!"
Smiling self-consciously, Gen shifted the coffee back and forth over the sand. Each time the thick liquid inside bubbled up and fell, boiled and settled.
"Chrome, dearest, you flatter me. Nobody comes all this way just to visit."
"Eh, we lived together! That's important too, isn't it?" Chrome asked.
"If that was all, I'd be in Japan now warming my feet under a kotatsu," he said, not without regret. "You got me. I am enuinely-gay urious-cay."
Chrome settled down on the floor. He looked about as smug as ever since becoming one of the Generals, so there couldn't be anything wrong. It was just…unusual to have one of the original science team out here.
"I'm gathering materials. This region was called the Gold Coast, you know?" he gushed. "There's mineral oil, metals, rubber, all sorts of plants!"
"Mmm, I do remember." The recurring headache of work nudged at Gen's temples. History curricula needed drafting, after about ten billion other lists and procedures. "Well, you're welcome to my home as long as you want. I can't say I have all that much room."
Then remembered he was talking to a man who grew up in a one-room hut. Goodness!
He'd been spending so much time with the depetrified now that Ishigami village seemed a sort of dream. Well, dream or not, Gen had two largeish rooms and a spare straw pallet. It would be fun to entertain for a while. Chrome was an easy houseguest. He'd appreciate the flowers Gen had piled in vases around the place and he'd probably shore up the rickety set of shelves while he was staying.
"What? Oh, you'll be fine! My equipment's all on the ship."
During the time Gen had lived with him and Senku, he'd never shown the same restless activity that sometimes tipped Gen over the edge into asking for earplugs. The only problem he had was a tendency to eavesdrop. He didn't have a mean bone in his body, that Chrome, but he did tend to think that he could help with everything if only people let him. Gen might need to explain a few of the broader points of regional context if he wanted to hang around during work hours.
"Ery-vay good! I bid you welcome to the Warless Nation, if the dockmaster didn't already."
He grabbed the coffee with a pair of heat-hardened wooden tongs and poured two short ceramic mugs of thick Turkish coffee. It was the simplest to make in a short time.
Chrome took it in both hands and breathed in so deeply Gen thought he might faint. "She did. Thank you!"
"Make sure you add plenty of sugar. It's ocking-shay if you're not used to it," he warned.
"Hah! We drink lots of coffee," Chrome said. "All the scientists we gathered put it down as their first request. And Senku thought they'd want better computer storage!"
With that he blew on his cup with a noise like someone humming with a pop bottle. Gen couldn't begin to understand how he managed that with ceramic.
Now, why had Chrome come? The story about materials…Gen was quite certain he was circumnavigating on one of their sturdier ships. Any of the old Kingdom of Science would let him know if they were passing near him, or so he hoped.
The informal global order had been formed when not all regions were sharing technology freely. The alliance between Senku and Xeno, Japan and America, had formed the informal government of the depetrified world. No, not a government, something else. Communications technology determined the direction of the world. Gen's mission, as a matter of fact, was to ensure all independent regional networks of drum posts, mail couriers, radio, or even some telegraph cables in copper-rich areas were somehow linked up to the global Science Team. For now. There was no news on when his eternal mission of coordination would end.
"Dear Senku really should have guessed. He may be able to pull an all-nighter without stimulants, but we humans are fragile creatures," said Gen.
"Caffeine is bad stuff," Chrome agreed.
The coffee should be about the right temperature now. Gen blew into it for a test. Yes, a little hot, but not bad. That and the slight breeze through the glassless window made for a refreshing start to the afternoon.
"You wound me, I thought it was rather ood-gay," Gen teased.
"Mmf—" Chrome choked on his mouthful. "That's not what I meant!"
"Hush, hush, I know. Please don't choke yourself on my account."
All that was to say, the Science Team kept in constant communication with him. There should have been some forewarning of a visit, come by trade caravan if nothing else. Chrome was an important figure on the global stage. To drop by so casually, either this was secret from Senku—an intriguing thought, that Chrome was pursuing his own agenda—or it was impulse. Given that Chrome had to be on a ship with full nautical and scientific crew, the only way a detour would be accepted was through persuasive negotiation. That was something he still wouldn't give Chrome just yet.
Gen liked to think that a crew from the old Kingdom would willingly come by. If that was so, why didn't more drop in? Chrome shouldn't have hidden this visit if it was official. Gen was sure that more than a few of the crew would want to see their old comrade, even if they had just gotten together at the wedding.
"Ah, Gen, this is really good," said Chrome.
"I'm eased-play you like it!"
That left a few options. The most likely: Chrome's planned expedition would have to put into the main Warless port. That coincided with Gen's current assignment. Gen was uninvolved in the nitty-gritty of strategy, so there was no need to contact him to arrange it. Chrome must have realized that the closest port to their desired location was also the closest to him, and used his political clout to make contact. The rest of the crew would be travelling overland to their actual scouted resources while Chrome stayed here. There might not be time for everyone to come hang out, or Chrome was here to whisk him off.
Now, why would a man so curious give up the chance to explore one of the world's richest, oldest landscapes just to drink coffee with little old him? Gen prided himself on his conversational skills, but he knew Chrome.
"We've got some at the lab, but I haven't tasted it in months," Chrome went on. "That hits the spot!"
"I should hope so. Did you know, the east part of this continent is the place the first coffee was grown?"
"Yes! I totally did. Wait. Well, actually, no," Chrome caught himself. "I didn't know which side. But I knew they're from the African landmass!"
That was an improvement. Chrome's slight flaws weren't anything Gen needed to work on for group harmony, but knowing when to rein yourself in was important for anyone working with dangerous substances. Overconfidence was a killer that Gen wasn't keen on seeing again.
Whatever his plan was here, Chrome wouldn't ignore any questions Gen had. He did have a plan, he was sure of it. Nothing else explained why Ishigami's brightest spark would leave his own mission just to chitchat.
"They originally grew in the highlands of the central eastern plateau, but in the ancient world they were spread to almost every area that could grow the crop," Gen explained between sips.
"Oh, I've got it! It's because the seeds are hard, so they ocean can carry them long distances."
Chrome must be here to ask Gen to help on something behind Senku's back. Just—what? What could possibly need this much subterfuge? A surprise party was one thing, but this…and in the middle of such a precarious period as well.
"Not quite," said Gen. "People in the ancient world loved coffee so much that rich people, like Ryusui, would pay any amount of money for it. Farmers like Taiju's family would plant as much coffee as they could to sell."
"That's baaaad business! They must have made a lot of money," said Chrome. "You people love this stuff."
Gen pondered over the question. What was something that he could help with that Senku couldn't? It had to be important. Chrome wouldn't have diverted himself otherwise. He needed his advice on an interpersonal matter. No, but he already had his future with Ruri and the time machine figured out.
He reached for the lever on the side of the stove and pulled with a cloth-wrapped hand. As it turned, the upper tray closed down on the lower. Each was designed with a toothed border that would interlock when the stove was shut down, smothering the fire and saving the coals for another use.
"You see, farmers in those days had about the same level of communication that we do. They didn't know how much people in other parts of the world wanted to pay for coffee, so they had to rely on the coffee buyers who lived close by. Except those coffee buyers depended on coffee roasters to buy their coffee. Can you guess what happened?"
"Oh," Chrome groaned. "It's not exploitation again, is it?"
"You have it there, dear Chrome! The coffee buyers lied, the coffee roasters lied, and the farmers got none of the money that people paid for their work. Now, would you do me a favour?"
Gen brought his arms together in his usual pose to put the room at ease. Eyes: glancing out the deep-set window opposite the door. Grin: frozen. Hand: moving away from coffee mug to gesture helplessly. Chrome was already giving him all he needed, and he didn't even know it.
"Of course! Do you need anything fixed? More cards? I can make you some mica-laminate cards! We found a great deposit back on the Subcontinent," he babbled.
"No." Gen put on his best beatific smile. "Chrome, darling, I'd like you to tell me why you're here."
Bingo. Was it just the heat of a coffee on a fine tropical day, or was Chrome sweating more now? He'd realized what he was doing with the hand at least. Instead of trying for a natural pose, he'd now frozen with it on the back of his neck.
"Me? What?" he said unconvincingly. "I already said, I'm looking for materials!"
"Yes, yes, you are," Gen agreed. "I was just wondering why you came to visit little old me! Stay as long as you like—" he turned up the wicked grin, "—but I'm going to make you tell me."
Hook, line, and sinker. Chrome couldn't hide the shudder that Gen's words sent through him. He surely didn't think a world-renowned mentalist would let him get away with that! Did the scientists really have such a low opinion of Gen now that he was on their side, thinking he'd forget his old skills?
He hid his smile with another sip of coffee. The bright flavour was only heightened by the sweet taste of victory.
Wait.
"Aha!"
What was Chrome doing?
"I get it!"
Their bombastic little researcher set down his coffee and practically leapt into seiza. Gen watched in mild confusion as he slapped his hands down on his thighs, bowed his head, then stared straight at him with that mad glint in his eye that came before a breakthrough.
"I wasn't lying. But I wasn't being truthful to you either. I am here to gather materials. The material…" Chrome shaped the starts of several words before choosing the simplest option. "…is you!"
The word echoed off the clay walls tastefully inscribed with geometric patterns. They must have passed through the thatched leaf roof. The chance that they were bouncing around the entire civic complex wasn't negligible. They were definitely bouncing around Gen's skull.
Well.
Laughing right now would take the not inconsiderable wind out of Chrome's sails, which is why Gen didn't. Instead, he held the gaze of the man vibrating front of him and snorted the coffee right down into his lungs.
Oops.
"You—want—me—to—come," Gen hacked between coughs, "—with—you? I'm all right! I'm all right!"
The latter was addressed when Chrome scrambled over to his side and wound up was what sure to be a hell of a backslap. Gen hadn't spent his youth in showbiz school to not know how to control a spittake on set. He patted Chrome lightly on the arm while he got himself under control.
"I'm awfully orry-say to say, dear Chrome, that I can't go with you for the time being. I'm working," he explained.
Senku or Ryusui would have sent a message in advance if it really were important, anyway, Gen didn't say. He put down the finished coffee and stood up, brushing off the dust and bits of straw that kept clinging to his robe while Chrome jerked this way and that trying to figure out whether he should help him up or not.
"Mentalist, there's something—"
"Why don't we take a stroll?" interrupted Gen. "You can give me your rationale, then I can tell you why I'm not exactly leaving any time oon-say. I just took time off for the wedding, remember?"
He extended a hand for Chrome to escort him out of the room. Chrome shook it instead and stood to attention by his side.
"I'm listening, but just you wait! I've spent years talking with you ancient people. My arguments are a lot better," he said.
"Oh? I'm ad-glay to hear it," Gen teased. "Don't forget that I'm the shallowest person in the world. Your reasoning means nothing without rhetoric."
Pulling the wooden key from one of his pockets, Gen unlocked the door and relocked it carefully once they stepped on through. The apartments of the Warless civic centre (formerly the labour barracks) were all connected by leaf-thatched corridors that kept out the worst of the sun. It wasn't great to be out in the heat of the day, but Gen knew all the shadiest spots in the surrounding agricultural forest. The straw hat strapped to his back helped.
"Wooden locks? That won't hold if someone tries to break down the door," said Chrome helpfully.
"Nope! I suspect even I could snap the bolt if I got enough tries," said Gen.
"So the point is—the door will be broken! You'll know that someone got in."
The hallway opened on to a nice shrub-shaded patio done in the same clay mosaic as the rooms. A few wicker chairs were arranged around a central firepit that they sometimes used on a colder night.
Gen led them on to the packed path that connected the different parts of the complex, down a small slope into the low forest that the first wakers had cultivated to get through the years of isolation. That was another thing that made him reluctant to leave. The success or failure of the first depetrifications really did depend on climate. Their explorations to Northern Europe and Canada found one or two dead settlements of modern humans who had forgotten exactly why they developed technologies like fibre crafts and flint knapping.
"Ding ding ding! Ten billion points to you, darling Chrome. It also means that any rospective-pay robbers are going to have to be loud." Gen snickered. "With so many rooms in one place, most likely there'll be witnesses."
The West African deltas, rich in resources, plants, and people, was the ideal place for a person to wake up. The first few survivors here had formed a sizeable community in a world some regions had never even had a person depetrify. Surviving in the stone world changed a person's perspective. Bigger than the united Kingdoms of Corn and Science, the Warless Nation was already a few hundred strong when they picked up a message from the nearest Perseid.
Across the world, each new cradle of humanity sought to shape the way that modern people folded back into society. Most looked for a more peaceful, egalitarian world than the one they had left. Tsukasa, Senku, Ruri, they all shared more or less the same ideals. If the old world's ruling classes were planning to rise up, like what happened with the Petrification Kingdom, the Science Team's de facto government would need backup from the other nations to put them back down.
"Hah, that's bad. Why do you need to lock it now, though?" asked Chrome innocently. "You're not even there, and it's not like you have any valuables. Except your brain."
Ouch! Gen privately congratulated Chrome on the burn. It was amazing how easy it was to fall into the same patterns as when they lived together. He supposed that engagement to dear Ruri could only change a man so much.
Now that they were safely under the trees and away from eavesdropping, Gen relaxed his shoulders. People might get the wrong idea if the Science Team's representative was taking mysterious housecalls. The agricultural forest was a nice place for a walk, as well. Cacao and cola trees shaded them nicely, kept in fine shape with a drip irrigation system.
"So, dear Chrome," he started. "Tell me more about this mission of yours. What use could you have for little old me in your new scientific world? Apart from what I'm already doing, of course."
Chrome's face fell sharply under the dappled light. Drat. That was worse than he'd expected. Chrome was always serious, yes, but never dour.
"I need you to talk to Senku," he said evenly. "We had one bad breakthrough in our science project."