As it turned out, the car really was broken.
It wasn't because of the pedals. The engine was completely shot and wouldn't start.
They might have to take it apart to find out exactly why, but they clearly didn't have the means to do that now.
Seeing the disappointed looks on the others' faces, Herta couldn't help saying:
"I research cutting-edge science and frontier theories, not how to repair antique engines. That's an antique restorer's job! What's with those looks? Especially you, Stelle!"
"All right, all right!" As the team leader, Kafka gave their exasperated strategist a tug and said, "Sitting around here won't help. Let's see if we can get out of the desert while it's still cool."
Herta nodded.
The group gathered their belongings-though there really wasn't much to take-and set off.
The terrain was relatively gentle in the direction the wind was blowing.
They saw no plants along the way, much like in the Sand Sea.
But the Sand Sea was riddled with sinkholes, and there were none here.
That ruled out Sand Sea Planet first.
By noon, they were exhausted and thirsty. Unfortunately, they had less than two bottles of water left, and barely any food.
March 7th had lost her earlier enthusiasm. Once Herta herself had entered, her theory that this was a feel-good game had shattered. Now it had become a feel-bad game.
After climbing over another dune, they actually spotted a town.
It stood on a stretch of stony desert, its buildings extremely rough-hewn. Shipping containers, battered spaceship wreckage, and even a few sheets of metal formed the distinctive houses lining its streets.
"This dump reminds me of Talia," Silver Wolf said.
"Where's Talia?" Stelle asked.
"Talia, the Bandit Principality," Herta said flatly. "I remember the Simulated Universe having relics from that place.