Chapter 91: Breakfast?

The more I examined the reactor, the more I realized how much I’d learned while making it. I understood almost everything about its construction now. I knew why the outer casing had this shape, why the internal components were placed where they were and how the energy moved through the reactor.

Glowium was still the problem. I remembered everything that had happened while the Research Assistant created it, but some of the material science behind it was still difficult to properly understand.

I asked, “How much more do I need to learn before I could do that part myself?” The Research Assistant answered, “The host’s understanding of engineering and reactor construction is sufficient. Advanced material science remains the primary weakness. Studying higher-level material-science texts should allow the host to understand the remaining processes.”

I turned Blueberry over in my hand. “Enough that I could eventually explain how to make Glowium to somebody else instead of only being able to make it myself?” The Research Assistant replied, “Yes. With sufficient study, the host should eventually be capable of teaching the process without assistance from this unit.”

That made studying it much more useful. If I actually understood the science instead of only relying on the Skill, I could eventually teach Emily or someone else. There was a big difference between being able to create something myself and being able to explain it well enough that another scientist could reproduce it.

“Add advanced material-science books to everything I need to study,” I said. The Research Assistant answered, “Recorded, Lord. Suitable material can be organized once available.”

I looked at Blueberry again and realized there was another problem. Walking upstairs while holding a brightly glowing Arc Reactor wasn’t exactly subtle. I used Perfect Copy and Manufacture to make a small holder designed specifically around it, then created a thick piece of cloth and wrapped the whole thing.

It helped, but blue light still escaped through the cloth. I held the wrapped reactor up and watched several faint blue lines appear through it. “Blueberry isn’t very good at hiding.” The Research Assistant answered, “A covering designed specifically to block the emitted light would be more effective.”

“I’ll make one later. This is enough until then.” I secured the reactor and started heading upstairs. Before leaving the basement, another thought came to me. “How much would it cost to make the large reactor for the underground facility?”

The Research Assistant answered, “Depending on the final size and desired output, a large-scale version of the perfected Arc Reactor is estimated to require between five hundred million and eight hundred million Magicules.” I stopped near the stairs and thought about the underground facility. That wasn’t nearly as much as I’d expected.

I asked, “What kind of power are we getting for that?” The Research Assistant replied, “At the proposed scale, approximately one hour of continuous operation would produce enough energy to supply roughly half of New York City’s current daily electricity requirement, assuming efficient storage and distribution.”

I stayed near the stairs for a moment. “So one hour from the big reactor could power half the city for an entire day?” The Research Assistant answered, “Approximately, Lord. Actual usable output would depend on transmission losses, storage efficiency and final reactor configuration.”

Even with those limitations, that was ridiculous. Spending five hundred to eight hundred million Magicules suddenly didn’t sound expensive when my body regenerated one hundred million every hour. I could recover the entire manufacturing cost in less than a day.

“Don’t make it yet,” I said as I continued upstairs. “Sara and Emily are coming today. I’ll show them this first, and then we can decide exactly where the big reactor should go.” The Research Assistant answered, “Understood, Lord. Large-scale manufacturing will remain on hold.”

By the time I reached the kitchen, the excitement from making Blueberry was slowly being replaced by hunger. Nobody else seemed to be awake yet, and I didn’t feel like waking Helen, Gwen or White just because I wanted breakfast.

I opened the refrigerator and looked through what we had. After staring at the ingredients for a moment, another idea came to me. “Research Assistant, can you create a cooking Skill?”

She answered, “Perfect Copy and Manufacture can create prepared food directly once the required structure and composition are understood.” I took a carton of eggs from the refrigerator and shook my head. “I know, but I don’t want breakfast to just appear. I actually want to make it.”

The Research Assistant was silent briefly before answering, “A culinary Skill can be created for approximately fifteen million Magicules. It would provide knowledge and practical ability involving ingredient preparation, knife techniques, heat control, seasoning, baking, frying, roasting, sauces and other common cooking methods.”

Fifteen million barely sounded like money anymore after spending nine billion on Perfect Copy and Manufacture and another one hundred and fifty million on Blueberry. I put the eggs on the counter and said, “Create it.”

The Research Assistant answered, “Confirmed, Lord. Culinary Skill creation complete.” The change wasn’t as overwhelming as when I’d received Perfect Copy and Manufacture, but I noticed it the moment I picked up a knife.

I hadn’t suddenly forgotten that I’d barely cooked before. I knew that. My hands simply didn’t agree anymore. The way I held the knife felt natural, and when I started cutting vegetables, every piece came out almost exactly the same size.

I knew how much heat the pan needed before putting anything into it. I knew when to lower the temperature without checking and how much seasoning would be enough before tasting anything. None of it felt like someone was controlling my hands either. It simply felt like I’d been doing this for years and had somehow forgotten until now.

I started with a normal breakfast. Eggs, bread and a few simple sides were enough, but while waiting for one pan to finish, I noticed some meat in the refrigerator and decided I might as well prepare that too.

While working on the meat, I noticed vegetables that could be used with it. Then some fruit caught my attention, and I remembered I could make dessert. One dessert became two because the second one used different fruit, and after that I found ingredients for something else.

At some point, breakfast stopped being breakfast. I didn’t really notice how much I was making because there was always something else to do. One dish would be cooking while I prepared another, something would be baking while I made a sauce, and whenever there was a free space on the counter, I somehow found something else to put there.

The Culinary Skill made managing everything much easier than it should’ve been. I could keep track of several pans, the oven and all the ingredients without getting confused. Every time I tasted something, I immediately knew what it needed.

Eventually, I reached into the refrigerator for something else and found almost nothing. I stared inside for several seconds before slowly closing the door and turning around. The kitchen looked completely different from when I’d entered.

Food covered almost the entire dining table, and I’d started using the kitchen counters after running out of room. There were dishes I hadn’t even planned to make when I started, ranging from breakfast food and rice dishes to roasted meat, spicy dishes, breads, sauces and fried food.

The desserts had somehow ended up with their own section. I counted them and found around ten different kinds. The savory dishes were much worse, with more than thirty spread around the kitchen and dining room.

I stood there holding a spoon and looked at everything I’d made. “I think I got a little carried away.” The Research Assistant answered, “Approximately ninety-four percent of the food previously stored within the refrigerator has been used, Lord.”

I looked back at the refrigerator before looking around the kitchen again. “That wasn’t really the part I was worried about.” The Research Assistant replied, “Understood, Lord.”

I was still deciding what exactly I was supposed to do with enough food to feed far more people than were currently living in the house when I heard footsteps coming from the stairs. Helen entered the kitchen a few moments later, still looking like she’d only recently woken up. She took two steps inside before stopping completely.

Her eyes moved from me to the dining table, then toward the counters. She looked at the desserts, the pans, the trays and the ridiculous amount of food covering almost every available surface before slowly looking back at me. I was still holding the spoon. Helen stared at me for another few seconds before asking, “Chris… what happened to the kitchen?”

I looked around once more, then toward the almost empty refrigerator behind me. There really wasn’t a good explanation that didn’t sound ridiculous. “I made breakfast.” Helen slowly looked back at the table. “For who?” I opened my mouth, looked at the amount of food again and decided there wasn’t any answer that would make this look normal. After looking around the kitchen one more time, I finally answered, “Everyone?”