What Are They Delaying?

"How did it go, Gaia? Any progress in the negotiations?"

Zoe lay sprawled on a padded bench. She looked up at Gaia, who had just returned, and asked lazily.

She wore only a few simple close-fitting garments. Beside her, a mechanical construct slightly taller than an ordinary person busily worked away.

Its head was a somewhat crude cylinder, with no torso beneath it—only long, jointed mechanical arms.

Five or six of those arms were currently busy on Zoe's back, some lightly tapping, others slowly kneading. It was actually giving her a massage.

Gaia glanced at her companion, who let out a comfortable sigh, but her expression was far from pleasant.

"Their overall attitude is actually fine. They're willing to give up the technology, but they just seem unreliable when it comes to getting things done. They keep nitpicking over every little detail."

"Isn't that a good thing? At least we can achieve our goal. Arguing over details is still better than making no progress at all, right?"

"The problem is, they're dragging it out way too much." Gaia threw herself gloomily onto the sofa. She was already rather short, and the cushions were exceptionally soft, so she nearly sank entirely into them.

"I've spent three whole days discussing technical details with them, and it's all been useless stuff. Methods for applying holy oil, pronunciation rules for prayers... Oh, and the thirty-six massage modes for your massage robot."

"Wouldn't that be—ah, a little more to the left. Yes, right there—wouldn't that be great? This massage robot really is amazing."

"It is pretty great, but you can't take it back with you." Gaia sneered. "This robot is also a holy relic of the Mechanical Cathedral. We can only trade for the method of using it—so when the time comes, you can take