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"More importantly, Hachiman, did you not come here to have fun? This is my home base; therefore I will be your guide. Is there anything you want to do?" Zaimokuza was really summoning up the energy as if here he was in his element.
I couldn't exactly play any of the fighting games. I didn't know the controls for anything other than Super Smash Bros and that was barely a fighting game. Besides my reflexes were shot due to my psychosis. I'd be no good even at that.
Considering how I could more or less see where everything was just from looking around, it was impressive how useless his guidance would be, however.
"Oh, I want to try out the photo booth." Totsuka, who was looking around the interior just like I was doing, pointed towards the far left where the photo booth corner was situated. "Hachiman, would you take a photo with me?"
"Come on… it's pretty much got 'girls/couples‐only zone' written all over it." The photo booth corner was forbidden to boys. It looked like you could only enter if you were a girl or you had a girlfriend. What blatant discrimination. It was a modern apartheid. The United Nations ought to hurry up and deal with this. Our group consisted of three guys. We did not satisfy any of the conditions.
"I‐I guess, yeah… no good, huh?"
"I wouldn't say it's no good, exactly…" Seriously, when he asked for things the way he did, it was much tougher to say no to him.
"Ohohohoho, worry not. Hachiman, I told you this was my home base. They'd given me a free pass for being a regular."
"Wow, you can do it? That's awesome. Must be super handy being able to rely on free passes." So it wasn't just false advertising. It was kind of awesome how employees and regulars both got benefits. That was Zaimokuza‐san for you.
"Leave it to me. Follow my lead," Zaimokuza declared as he led the way into the photo booth corner.
His majestic appearance was overflowing with self‐confidence, not betraying a hint of unease. His mannerisms were fit for a king. That was Zaimokuza‐san for you. With that, he approached the counter in front of the photo booth corner. "Excuse me, sir, what are you doing? It doesn't look good for only boys to enter."
"Er, um, uh, s‐sorry..." Nine times out of ten, all it took to stop him in his tracks was an employee's nonchalant comment. That was Zaimokuza‐san for you. Seeing how this was all well within expectations, Totsuka and I looked at each other without any particular surprise.
"Just as I thought…" I muttered. "…ahaha, that's the way it goes." But the next moment, a miracle happened. "'scuse me, you're in the way. Move outside, thanks." As the employee's brother nonchalantly drove Zaimokuza right out of the corner, he cleared the way for us. Zaimokuza was getting carried off without any show of resistance, like a cat being dragged by the scruff of its neck.
"…wh‐what was that?" The reason why Totsuka blinked his eyes wide in surprise was undoubtedly written across his face.
"…who knows? Whatever, he cleared the way for us so let's go."
"Y‐yeah…" Totsuka followed me, his expression less than fully satisfied.
Inside the corner, there was every kind of machine imaginable. Honestly, the way the lights blinked and sparkled oh so radiantly and beautifully gave off an air like Kabukicho in Shinjuku. And holy crap, look at those sample images. Shots of people who looked like models were printed on the curtain and the cubicle and everywhere in‐between. It was so creepy how they all had the same face. Why do these chicks all look the same way? You could only distinguish them by their hairstyle and clothing. Did they use a template or something?
"Whoa… how slutty…" Compared to the likes of Yuigahama and that Miura chick, I got a neat and clean vibe from it. So these were the people who 'belonged to another world,' huh? It gave me the creeps.
"Okay, here'll do," said Totsuka. "Hachiman, you're okay with it?"
"…yeah, I'm good." Honestly, it couldn't be more messed up. Totsuka entered the cubicle and started reading the instructions diligently.
"So, let's see. Choose the background and… okay, this looks good," he said, holding my arm and dragging me several steps down.
"H‐huh? What, is it starting? Whatcha s'pposed to do?! It's blinding me!" The flash blinked suddenly. Wait, wasn't Solar Flare the only ability Tien Shinhan could use? Could Goku use the photo booth as well?
"Let's do one more~"
After the synthetic voice filled the cubicle, the flash blinked a number of times. Lend me your power, Tien Shinhan! "And that's that! Don't forget to add your own touches when you leave!"
"Our own touches, huh…?" said Totsuka. "I wonder how I should do mine."
We pulled the curtain aside and moved to a separate booth for editing photos. On the screen there was a countdown showing how much time you had to edit. "So you check the photo and… wh‐whoa! There's a ghost in it?!" As soon as he opened the screen, Totsuka clung way too tightly onto my arm in shock.
Whoa, th‐that gave me a shock! As I kept my quickened heartbeat under control, I looked at the ghost photo or whatever it was and saw for myself that a boy with a scowling face was indeed half‐visible. And his name was Zaimokuza. When I opened the curtains in search for him, he was squatting on the floor.
"Oh, I get it now," Totsuka said. "So it was Zaimokuza‐kun, huh…? Thank goodness for that."
"What are you doing here…?" I asked Zaimokuza.
"Oho, I crawled in here so that I would not be discovered. So then I thought, seeing as you were having an intimate moment with Sir Totsuka, that I would ruin it for you by appearing in the photo myself! Have at you! Your memories have been tainted through my hand!"
"Doesn't it make you sad to say that about yourself?"
"…hmph, I overcame that level of misery during the photo sales after the school trip. To wit, the girls were crying simply because I was in the photo with them." Whoa, so this guy had his scars too…
"Ohh. Um, how do I say it? S‐sorry to hear that, Zaimokuza."
.Zaimokuza made an indignant sound. "Fret not over me," he said as he furtively wiped the tears sprouting in the corner of his eyes.
Zaimokuza wasn't a bad guy, though. The photo sales were the real evil here. "But you know, that photo sale system is full of BS and they ought to put a stop to it. When you secretly buy a photo of the girl you like and everyone around you finds out and makes fun of you, it sucks. That's how it works."
"…i‐indeed, something similar happened to me."
"H‐Hachiman… let's make lots of memories from now on." Totsuka comforted me with all of his might.
"I'll be with you whenever I can." That would be just weird… although I suppose it would be common sense if he were a middle schooler.
As we were mucking around, doing this and that, the editing time elapsed and the photos were printed.
"My skin's so white…" said Totsuka.
"That's some serious augmentation…" I remarked.
"Indeed," Zaimokuza said with a cough. "And yet seeing Hachiman sparkling sends a shiver down my spine… he's sparkling yet his eyes remain rotten…"
Well, it went without saying that an overexposed photo was the result of the flash being turned on so high. The whitening effect was plainly visible on Zaimokuza. As for Totsuka, it exhibited his pretty girl qualities to such a degree that it wouldn't be a stretch to call him a bishojo.
"Right, here. This is yours, Hachiman." Totsuka handed me one of three photos he had cut out neatly from the pile. "And this is for you, Zaimokuza‐kun."
"O‐oh? I may procure one as well?"
"Huh? Yeah," Totsuka said with a smile more radiant than any augment a photo booth could produce.
Zaimokuza perked in response. "Oh, good. Th‐then I accept." He took it, handling it like treasure, and he gazed at it with a dazed sort of happiness. I cast my eyes onto the photos in my hand the same way he did. Since there wasn't much time in the editing cubicle, only three of my photos had any writing on them. On one photo, 'Gymbros' was written in Totsuka's somewhat cursive handwriting. I liked that nickname, it was cute… Another photo had the word 'nakayoshi' ‐ buddies. Zaimokuza snorted. "Hachiman and I are not buddies."
"Pretty much. We're not buddies."
"You think so? I think you get along just fine." Totsuka shook his head mysteriously.
"Nah, I'm more of a Ribon fan than a Nakayoshi fan."
"Indeed," said Zaimokuza. "Kodocha was quite good…"
"I know right? I followed the manga right up to the end."
"Oh, really? The anime version was better." Zaimokuza and I turned away from each other with a huff.
I growled. He growled. As the sparks crackled and the two of us prepared for all‐out war, Totsuka broke out into a giggle. "You two really are buddies."
"Huh? What part…?" Zaimokuza grunted.
"Seriously."
"Well, you know how it is. In deference to Totsuka's super cute smile, I'll forgive you. I'll bring the manga over on Monday and you better read it and write me an essay on it."
"Hmph. Then I, too, shall bring the DVDs and you'd better prepare a full report on it." Zaimokuza whipped his gaze away and shoved the photos in his hand into his wallet. "Honestly, Hachiman, had you not been causing a ruckus, I would have obtained the augmented photos. I only managed to get two of them. As punishment, you must choose volleyball for gym class next month. Should you fail in doing that, I will be alone."
"Yeah, I planned to pick volleyball from the start since I didn't wanna run. Wait. Did you say two photos?" Really now? I thought, and was about to check this for certain when I felt something tug against my sleeve. I turned around to see Totsuka putting a finger against his lips, shushing me. I kept the photo in my palm and opened it furtively, only to find myself kind of embarrassed by what was written on the remaining augmented photo: "HACHIMAN SAIKA" I mean, holy crap. I was definitely blushing.
"Ah, it's already gotten so late," Totsuka said. "I have to get going…"
"Oh, tennis school." Oh, right. Totsuka had come here to pass the time before tennis school. I felt kind of bad for not sparing a moment to think about giving Totsuka a good time.
"Okay, I'm going now. Looks like you've cheered up too, Hachiman."
"Huh?"
"You seemed kinda down lately. So I thought you needed a change of pace." Now that he mentioned it, I got the feeling Komachi said something like that this morning too. I hadn't really cared then since my sister is a total nutjob and all, but if a man of common sense like Totsuka was saying the same thing, then it really was concerning. "I don't really know if something's happened to you, but… I like you best when you act yourself, Hachiman," Totsuka said. Then, checking the time on his phone, he uttered a "Right, let's hang out again sometime!" and broke out into a sprint. Just before he was out of sight, he turned around and let out a hearty wave.
In answer, I raised my hand high, too. Zaimokuza grunted. "Sir Totsuka sure is kind‐hearted. Not that there is any worth in being kind to you, Hachiman…"
"Huh? What? You're still here? And you know what, you're one to talk."
"Oho, it's just what you'd expect from my friend, Sir Totsuka. What a splendid warrior."
"…you're planning on becoming Totsuka's friend?"
"Er, a‐am I not his friend…?"
"Don't ask me. Stop shaking so obviously." Wasn't this guy's character getting shafted lately? Was he okay?
"Oh, hey, what are you doing? You're not allowed to come in here, yo." The nonchalant voice of the store employee interrupted the moment.
"Oh, crap," said Zaimokuza. "It is here we part ways! Farewell!"
"This isn't an all‐you‐can‐eat restaurant…" With that unintelligent exchange, the two of us fled from the scene. I could see Zaimokuza getting surrounded by employees through the corner of my eye. It was best to act totally as if nothing was wrong. Only changing my attitude when something happened was the kind of hypocrisy I wouldn't stand for. Before I got on my bicycle, I secretly put the booth photos I was holding into my wallet. Now to go buy a frame or something and hang it up.
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Talkative aliens.
How would aliens talk to you? You have nothing in common with them except math and science and that's a hard maybe on that math and science. Math just might be really sophisticated group think, see Godel's incompleteness theorem.
So how do you talk to aliens?
Well you could build laser and sophisticated radio waves and emit the first ten thousand digits of pi followed by the first ten thousand prime numbers, followed by the first ten thousand perfect squares and after that even the most hardened skeptic will say for sure, 'yep this is aliens.' So you have SETI, the search for extraterrestrial intelligence and you have METI, messaging extraterrestrial intelligence. Some people like the late Stephen Hawking thought it was unwise to be messaging aliens but the truth is as soon as you broadcast your first radio signal the cat is out of the bag.
Of course we've only grown quieter with our radio signals as radio technology has gotten more sophisticated. But still. Random noise doesn't look anywhere close to the same as an intentional broadcast. So what did I make of the Great Silence?
Well, all the aliens could be hiding. But again, there was little point. Especially with the construction of Dyson Spheres around their native systems. Or Dyson Swarms rather. Freedman Dyson never really meant for them to be a solid structure. More of a cloud but that's what stuck in the common lexicon and now we have to differentiate the two.
Dyson Swarms wrapped around their star soaking up all that sunlight was the obvious path any civilization limited by thermodynamics and fusion would take. You'd after all only construct one if you needed the power and if there was no artificial means of powering a civilization better than a star. Or at least vastly superior to a star's output.
These structures would still emit the same amount of light as before, except only as infrared waste heat. Which meant that the supervoids between galaxies were not hidden civilizations. They were just empty spaces. Vast ones.
I sat back and tapped a pen to my lips as I stared at my laptop. We'd expect most if not all civilizations to go the Dyson route unless there was some means of jumping between universes and you could colonize infinite uninhabited Earths. Even then that would only seem to slow down the construction of a dyson swarm. If not speed it up since you had all the resources of those infinite planets to use and spend. And you'd never run out of alternate Earths since you double your universes much faster than you could colonize them. Infinite boxes. Or nearly infinite. So big it made our observable universe appear microscopic. The multiverse was enormous. Truly, mind bendingly, enormous. Of course that's merely one interpretation of quantum mechanics but I thought it was intuitively true. I was in a box.
A really big box.
But a box nonetheless.
I looked out as people passed my house on the stree through the little window in my room and I felt suddenly sickened by the enormity of it all. Then I promptly blended into the enormity of it all. I felt myself end and begin. I felt the edges of myself blur into the universe. I felt my identity fade in its entirety. Who was Hachiman? An ant. Less than an ant. I saw the gibbering god at the center of it all and I shuddered. I could still feel my body that much at least. It was a devil and I knew that it knew that I was looking right at it. I could feel uncountable eyes on me. More eyes than there were atoms in the universe and still only a fraction of a fraction of the total processing power of the great mind before me. I felt it all. The focus. The attention. The blackmail.
'You fathoming?' The mad god whispered. 'You fucking perceiving over there? Comprehending? Beholding even?' And I was. I was fathoming and perceiving and comprehending. There were no Dyson Swarms in our galaxy. What did that imply? And surely a Kardashev two civilization would make use of every star. There was no expanding wave of darkness taking over the Milkyway or any of our neighboring galaxies. And Andromeda was close enough that if a civilization had popped up there within our light cone then there would be others within our galaxy. We appeared to be alone out here. Our galaxy was empty and devoid of life. Our whole supercluster might be empty. Dead. What did that imply?
Well, it was how the programmers or engineers of our reality wanted things set up. Azathoth wanted it this way. Or it would have set things up another way. We really were alone out here and with a hard limit on the speed of light that's probably how things were bound to stay. What a terrifying and relieving thought. Could you imagine an in-galaxy colonization war between two civilizations approaching Karashev three? How many billions of lives would be snuffed out. The arms of the Milkyway appeared empty and dead. Was that the state of things forever or just until we mustered the strength to colonize the stars. Were we the first? Or just the first in a local sense? Could it be that disaster eventually befalls all those who try and colonize the distant reaches of space? And we were probably hard limited to our local supercluster of galaxies by the speed of light and the expansion of the universe. Eventually all distant galaxies will fall over the cosmological event horizon caused by the accelerating expansion of the universe. And all the galaxies in the local group will merge into one. Andromeda and the Milkyway were serious cannibals and they are on a collision path. And then eventually all things would end with the heat death. All life will cease. Maybe civilizations could keep going around blackholes when the last stars die. Eating the trickle of Hawking radiation. Of course, Hawking radiation remained only speculative. But how could you keep going on so little power for countless eternities? Especially if proton decay was on the table and I strongly suspected that it was.
Protons decayed after 10^{40} years. Blackholes lasted 10^{60} years. Especially some of the bigger ones. And they gave off less power as radiation as they got bigger. Some, so little, it would make the power output of a light bulb look like a star. How can civilization keep going after the last stars die? It seemed unlikely. Azathoth would win and the universe would be dead forever.
You always slam into entropy. Always.
I shuddered again at the thought.
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-WG
