28. Spaceport

By the time the five officials dispatched from various departments of the Japanese Government had grown accustomed to the seventh-floor office space.

The seventh-floor office had begun as a vast, open floor plan, with only six desks—Including Ichijō’s—arranged in a row. The sheer expanse of the space made it feel like a lone island floating in an endless sea, and Ichijō had complained about the lack of comfort. So, we installed partitions to create a sense of enclosure. Aside from the cluster of desks, the only other features on the seventh floor were a simple Dining Hall, a rest area, and a restroom—so Ichijō’s complaints were not entirely unreasonable.

At first, we’d considered recruiting someone from a trading company to fill the gap, which is why the space had seemed unnecessarily large. But now that the current staff is managing well, we’ve made no concrete moves toward expanding the team. If it becomes necessary, Ichijō will likely be the one to bring it up.

"Senior. What should I call you from now on? Still 'Representative Yamada,' I suppose?"

"Outside, yes. Here, you can call me whatever you like. But that doesn't mean you can shout 'Hey, Keiichi!'"

"That sounds fun, but I’ll stick with 'Senior,' just like before."

Because of that exchange, Ichijō continued to call me Senior, as she always had.

Now, in the Office on the eighth floor.

"Senior, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Ichijō, sitting beside me, had spoken up. I nodded.

"About earlier—when the junior staff were chatting, they all said they wanted to see inside Agirakana."

"Wanting to see inside… you mean they want to go there?"

"Yes, they said they want to ride on that spaceship floating in the sky. I do too."

"Hmm? Wait—do you all actually think that ship is Agirakana?"

"Well, it's a spacefaring nation, isn't it? Isn’t that wrong?"

“That’s big, but it’s just a spaceship. Are you telling me everyone down below really thinks that’s Agirakana?”

Ichijō nodded.

Right—back at the beginning, they’d used AA-0001 as a backdrop for a televised appearance. Everyone’s been misinterpreting it all along. If even the Japanese Government’s assigned personnel are thinking the same thing, then the Government’s perception and the public’s perception probably align.

Still, after a single landing vessel caused global panic, there’s no way they’re going to unveil the full picture of Agirakana now.

“Speaking of which, everyone on your crew calls Ain-san ‘captain’ rather than ‘representative.’ Why’s that?”

Ah, that’s true too—

“Agirakana is, as you said, a spacecraft. And I’m its captain—the captain of a warship, not just a ship. That’s why it’s ‘captain’ rather than ‘representative.’ The vessel currently floating above us is an assault landing ship, a military vessel. Agirakana is, by comparison, vastly larger—considerably so.”

He looks as though he doesn’t quite believe even this explanation. Saying Agirakana is bigger than Earth is simply not something one can say with a straight face.

“Captain. Since introducing Agirakana to Earth’s people is clearly having no positive effect beyond intimidation, how about we simply let them refer to it as AA-0001 for the time being?”

“Agreed.”

“We can’t exactly bring civilians aboard a warship during active operations. And their interest in Agirakana is probably just idle curiosity. So why not construct some suitable facility to satisfy that curiosity?”

The officials in the Office gathered, and the discussion began.

“What kind of facility are we talking about, exactly?”

“How about an amusement park—something the people of Japan would enjoy?”

“Sounds interesting, but that’d be a hassle, and we’ve got no experience with that sort of thing.”

“Then how about a simple lodging facility on the Moon? Just gazing at Earth from up there would probably delight them. We could repurpose an old spacecraft like the one used here at the Embassy—no need for anything fancy. It’d be easy, and since it’s peaceful lunar use, nobody’d have a complaint.”

“That actually sounds promising. So we’ll need a spaceport—or maybe call it a launch hub—for the Moon tours. The surrounding area will probably develop too.”

“Senpai… are we actually going to the Moon?”

"Yeah, we’re getting close. It’s a bit cheeky to the company across the sea planning Moon tours, but we’ll beat them to it. Someone from the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, and Transport probably got assigned to Ichijō’s team. Ichijō asked that person to handle the coordination with the Japanese Government, saying we want to build a spaceport and start Moon tours."

After that, a back-and-forth discussion—whether debate or idle chatter, it was hard to tell—began, with Ichijō right in the middle. Ichijō was quick to blend in with everyone else.

As I listened to the group, I mulled over my own thoughts:

The exact location of the spaceport will depend on the Japanese Government’s preferences. But personally, I’d say Narita might work well—transportation from the Kanto region isn’t ideal, but it’s not terrible either, especially if you’re flying in. Plus, the existing airport infrastructure could be repurposed, and there seems to be enough land available. Might be worth considering.

If we build a spacecraft without wings, we could just use the existing airport, couldn’t we? Taxi it to a spot where passengers won’t get in the way, then take off straight up. That way, we wouldn’t have to stick to Narita—we could pick any international airport capable of handling passport control.

“How about something like this…?”

Everyone agreed it was simple enough and could be implemented right away.

“Ichijō, arrange to relay this proposal to the Japanese Government.

Once the Japanese Government gives approval, the Ain group will handle the construction of wingless passenger spacecraft and the accommodation facilities on the Moon.”