Can Ci Pin - - - Chapter 190

Chapter 190 – The Only Chance

The First Galaxy.

The former ringleader of the galaxy, the First Galaxy Border Patrol Fleet, got onto the same small mech as the Union Troops and split up into teams towards their assigned communication post base.

Lu Bixing watched them sail off through the mech’s military camera and said: “The main fleets of the AI troops are not here, and the former First Galaxy guards all know their way around the area. There shouldn’t be any problems dealing with the communication base even if they split up; everyone else follow our original plan and prepare to make our way towards our assigned areas…..let’s meet again in seven days.”

The First Galaxy was still under lockdown, where the fearsome main body of the AI still hadn’t taken over the universe.

The Human Alliance still had power to fight back.

The generals saluted him within the communication channel and took off. Within one Woltorian calendar day, there were only a handful of escorting mechs and a portion of the Third Galaxy Central Militia fleet around Lu Bixing.

The young man let out a long breath of air.

Every chess piece had been placed; he ruminated on if there was anything he had missed. He soon discovered that once his busy brain was given time to breathe, he would start to daydream about anything and everything.

A sudden thought appeared: what if the Great Swords that had stayed in the Eighth Galaxy didn’t take his bait to sail back to the First Galaxy?

Could Lin Jingheng and the Eighth Galaxy forces withstand that long?

This dangerous thought spread through him like a powerful parasite, unwilling to remove itself from his mind the moment it came up. Lu Bixing suddenly felt his heart rate going haywire, a thin layer of cold sweat starting to form on his palm. When he got up to grab himself a cup of water, the cup slipped through his shaking hands and fell onto the ground.

Lu Bixing pulled his senses back to reality, shocked to find that he had almost fallen into a dangerous hallucination from anxiety. He pressed on all the joints on his hand to calm himself down and suppressed his worrisome thoughts–there was no way to turn back now. All of his worries were useless; no matter what, he had no choice but to trudge down this path.

To stop himself from overthinking, Lu Bixing forced himself to sit down, closed his eyes, and readjusted his breathing. Then, he looked around for something to do.

He opened up Commander Lin Ge’er’s notebook and began reading while referring to a general history of the Union. The Union’s official records had credited the late commander as a one-in-a-million philosopher and war strategist in human history, one of the greatest military leaders of civilization. Lu Bixing picked up the notebook like a child who never studied on a regular basis, hoping to cram in some last-minute studying right before a big exam off the notes of the ace student in class.

The details in the notebook regarding some of the most famous battles all matched up, but aside from war, the notebook also chronicled the late commander’s personal life.

He wrote that the bookworm Doctor Hardin had an attention disorder when he was young and often had trouble holding long conversations with others. The young man would often go off to talk about unrealistic dreams and aspirations. He also wrote about Woolf; the young man who grew more and more reserved as he aged.

Whenever the commander mentioned his lover, the text would often be followed by a warm and soft doodle on the side. The artwork leaned more on the abstract side with no way to make out the features of his models, yet even a simple silhouette was filled with longing and adoration in every stroke.

“I’ve watched Hubert (Woolf) grow up since he was young. He was an orphan, without family and grew overly dependent on me, which perhaps led him astray to interpret my kindness as something else. I am regretful that I was not able to notice and correct his misguided emotions, so I’ve been very careful with how I use my words and act around him these years. I don’t want to give him any more wrong ideas or hints for his own sake; thankfully he is a docile and humble young man, so I believe he will be able to walk out of his troubles after a few years.”

Lu Bixing clicked his tongue and drew a line with his finger across the words “docile and humble” like he almost forgot what the phrase meant. He skipped the every day ramblings and turned to the last few pages that documented the last battle with AI King Hertz.

“King Hertz is impenetrable like a horrible ghost that looms above all stars; just why would anyone create such a monster like this?

“Steven (Hardin) once again shared an unrealistic idea. He said that if we have enough time and technology, we should create a more free and powerful AI; a beast can only be defeated by a more fearsome beast.

“Hubert said that if an unlimited framework AI could be created, no matter how good the intention was when it was created, no matter how friendly it is programmed to be toward humans, it will inevitably become our enemy in the end–even if its script was coded entirely in love.”

“That’s right, what’s the difference between a new species and a free-willed AI? We fear creatures that are not human, it’s something written in our genes as mankind. This is the ultimate lesson left behind by countless conflicts and bloodshed by different species fighting for survival. Once the relationship between two species grows cold after its initial honeymoon phase, humans will begin to suspect each other even if AIs still remained friendly. And once this first crack appears, it can no longer be healed; we will then perish under the hands of our own creations.

“Thank goodness for King Hertz’ own bias; the access control he left for his son was perhaps the last ray of hope used to save the world.”

These were merely some thoughts written by the owner of the notebook without any real use for the situation on the battlefield right now. Lu Bixing originally scanned the pages quickly, but then, as if he suddenly realized something, he flipped the page back to reread this section and wondered: “Was this a mistake?”

Did Commander Lin Ge’er switch up Hardin and Woolf’s names?

But….it was clear from the notes that the late commander was a very careful man with a keen eye to detail. Even in writing, he rarely made any mistakes even with punctuation; indeed, wrote that it was Doctor Hardin who “once again shared an unrealistic idea,” which matched up with his description of the doctor in the earlier pages.

Questions began to arise within Lu Bixing’s mind–a twenty-something-year-old Woolf had known that a free-will AI would eventually go down the wrong path to become an enemy of humanity, so why did he become more senile and foolish as he aged three centuries later?

Was it for power? Did he develop the ambition to control the Union for eternity?

This made no logical sense. An AI could only copy his personality and was not a house for the ‘soul’ of human Woolf. Even if this Super AI managed to control the entirety of humanity, what did it have anything to do with his human creator? Woolf’s corpse had long been annihilated into stardust along with the Parliament building on Wolto.

Then…was it because he finally embraced cursing humanity due to his hatred for being enslaved to the Union all his life?

Even if he was simply anti-humanity and wanted to turn this world into a deathly machine empire, why did he set the AI to prioritize annihilating biochip humans first? For super AIs of a machine empire, all carbon lifeforms were nothing but slaves or pets. Regardless if you were a normal human, biochip human, or even a cat or dog–were any of them any different in the eyes of these cold machines?

Suddenly, the pilot on the mech reminded him: “Minister Lu, General Nagus would like to speak with you in private.”

Lu Bixing’s mind was pulled back to reality and he answered: “Sure.”

Nagus’ 3D projection appeared before him. Now that the wormhole restabilized, the signal didn’t seem as choppy as before . As long as he didn’t reach out and touch it, the projection of the old general looked almost real, as if the two were sitting facing each other for a chat.

“Commander Lin Ge’er’s notebook?” Nagus asked, “Isn’t that one of the things Woolf gave you back then?”

Lu Bixing made a small sound in acknowledgement and said: “Looks like the late commander was a very influential figure in Woolf’s life.”

“Oh the rumors,” Nagus said openly, “I’ve heard about them. They said that back when General Lin Wei was born, some gossipers questioned if the general’s genes were really from the late commander and his wife, which meant….uh, yeah, you know.”

Lu Bixing: “That would never happen.”

Nagus: “What?”

“I don’t think Woolf would do something like that; he may be sly and calculating, sometimes even low-handed in his methods, but I don’t think he’s someone with low morals that would do something like that,” Lu Bixing said. “Besides, if General Lin Wei carried his genes, Jingheng and his sister would also be his offspring. Why didn’t he personally adopt them then, if that’s the case?”

Nagus asked: “Why?”

“Perhaps it’s grief.” Lu Bixing pondered for a bit and then said, “Commander Lin Ge’er was the beautiful memory of his youth, like the moonlight shining above him. Woolf used the genes of the couple to breed and raise a General Lin Wei–the given name ‘Wei’ was something that the old commander and his partner had decided on while they were still alive–it was written in the notebook. It was a unisex character that could be used regardless of the gender of the child. I’d like to think that Woolf used this name knowing that Commander Lin didn’t belong to him. If General Lin Wei were to live peacefully for the rest of his life, perhaps he would have enjoyed an end without regrets. Perhaps Woolf’s grief came from the fact that the Union government was being led astray further and further from their ideals by the Eden Committee, which led to the treachery of Doctor Hardin and the death of his adopted son whom he raised and loved for decades. Jingheng’s eyes looked too much like his mother Laura Gordon, so I could understand if he felt repulsed by those eyes.”

Nagus let out a sigh: “I remember that Woolf was actually ready to retire back then. At that time, Commander…your father and his friend were two unmatched heroes of their generation. One was a student that Woolf taught personally, another was the son he raised, and some boring gossipers used to call them the Twin Fortress of Wolto. General Lin Wei was rather cold and didn’t like to engage in social interactions nor stay under the spotlight. Our Commander was the complete opposite, though the two had quite a good relationship with each other in private and complemented each other in personality. Woolf ended up choosing our boss and began delegating a lot more work to his hands. To be honest, Commander Lu had the capacity to shoulder the burden of the new Chief Commander, the only thing missing was an official transfer of power, but alas…”

The Eden Committee decided to strike at the time for their political gains. Lin Wei faced an end filled with nothing but regrets, Lu Xin shouldered the false slander of a traitor, and the galactic pirates were starting to quiet down. It almost seemed as if nobody could stand in the way of the Committee anymore as the great unification of the Interstellar Union housed all of humanity under their umbrella. The seemingly useless and weakened Military Council was pushed to the corners of the Union Parliament while their power was virtually stripped away from them; with no choice, the half-retired old Chief was forced to be put back on the throne. But it was all too late; Eden was ubiquitous throughout the galaxies, and even as the founder of the Union, this old man no longer had the power to even save a little girl that had been held hostage by the Committee.

“I have a strange feeling, uncle Nagus,” Lu Bixing said.

“What is it?”

Lu Bixing shook his head: “I can’t really explain it right now.”

If there was no AI Woolf, then the Union Troops and Central Militia would likely have been already kicked off the stage by Lin Jingshu.

They had to admit that if it wasn’t for Woolf’s “necromancy” deus ex machina at that time, the Human Alliance would likely be forced to kneel before their future queen.

Looking back now, Woolf had completely isolated the First Galaxy like he was given a cheat code in this game. Lin Jingshu’s only choice to survive the endless pursuit of the AI was to flee to the Eighth Galaxy. At that point, no matter what the Eighth Galaxy decided to do, they would not be able to escape the fate of being pulled into this mess. Vaccuocerebrals also coincidentally became the antithesis of biochip humans, and the sandwiching of forces trapped Lin Jingshu in the Heart of the Rose, ensuring that it became her gravesite.

After dealing with the biochip humans, the AIs could have chosen to shake hands with mankind and create a peaceful facade for the next few decades. As the Central Militia sailed back to other galaxies in the Union to clean up the unrest and rebuild the transfer portals, the AIs could have taken the opportunity as mankind relaxed to build more hardware in secret to plant seeds of their ambitions.

But they instead chose a time like this to run into a programming bug and once again raised the flags of war.

Lu Bixing’s gaze fell back onto the notebook at the line that read: “even if its script was coded entirely in love.”

“We’re physically within great danger, like walking on a blade,” Lu Bixing said. “But if we think about it in depth, waging wars is the most disadvantageous thing for AIs to do right now–which is also our only chance to win.”

Nagus: “Are you saying that machine wants to be a savior of the world? Then it should’ve just self-destructed after it beat up the Freedom Corps, what’s the point of stirring shit up again now!?”

“They won’t self-destruct, but how do they define ‘defeated the Freedom Corps’? Killing the boss? Then it would have disappeared the first time Lin Jingshu faked her death before us.” Lu Bixing shook his head. “Besides, a digital drug like opium will never be able to completely remove itself from human society within a few centuries once it’s introduced. Even assuming that the AIs will self-destruct after the drug is completely eradicated, how do you think the relationship between mankind and AIs will develop over these few hundreds years? An unlimited framework AI has self-repairing programs coded into their system; do you really think that a small self-destruction code will be a problem hundreds of years into the future?”

Nagus’ heart sank deeper with every word spoken.

“A digital drug that can never be fully eradicated even hundreds of years into the future,” he mumbled. “Can my Third Galaxy even wait until my return?”

Meanwhile, the Third Galaxy.

A ghostship-like broken mech carefully avoided all routes that could potentially put them on the radar of the biochip humans. A handful of exhausted soldiers took turns resting up in the corner; all of the uniforms on them were different, signifying the different places they came from. Some of them came from the Security Department on land while others were soldiers from the Central Militia left behind to guard the galaxy.

This broken puzzle of a team floated aimlessly in space with an important mission on their shoulders–they must escort a biotechnical scientist to a safe refuge.

To combat the biochip humans, the rebelling forces built a temporary lab for biochip research within a secret location in the Third Galaxy. They managed to gather a few dozen biotechnical experts into the base, and just as their research was about to grasp a direction, the location of the lab was exposed. Two weeks ago, the lab had been completely annihilated by the biochip humans; all research was lost.

Only one young scientist had managed to escape that catastrophe and was saved by the rebellion troops that had given their lives to protect them. Now, the scientist was resting inside the medical capsule to withstand the long and harsh interstellar journey.

The medical capsule exposed a pale but youthful face of the young woman inside. Even in a hibernation state, the cloud of fear and anxiety still loomed over her features. The soldier going off shift gave the piloting permission to his comrade and walked over to her, then turned up the temperature inside the medical capsule.

“What are you doing?” the comrade asked.

“I hope this warms her up a little, I feel like she’s having nightmares,” the exhausted soldier whispered through his lips. “How much of the lost data can she recover?”

The comrade also fell silent, then gave the soldier a nutrient syringe and said, “I heard that all of the temporary labs were all annihilated by those biochip humans.”

“This means that they’re scared,” the soldier said. “They can only rely on the chip inside their body to fight; they don’t have an organization, no laws, and without a chip it’s likely they can’t even pilot a mech properly. These people are nothing compared to us; as long as we have the technology to fight their chips, we’ll be the winners in the end.”

“But how much longer do we have to wait until ‘the end’?” the comrade asked, clearly burnt out. “Perhaps ‘the end’ is when we’re all dead…it’s not just us, I’ve heard that it’s also getting worse around the other galaxies. The rebellion troops lost over 80% of their temporary bases already, and some of our allies from the Fourth Galaxy fled over here two days ago in hopes of finding refuge. It sounded like the Fourth Galaxy had completely fallen already. The ally that contacts me quite regularly from the Second Galaxy also hasn’t contacted me in over two weeks, I don’t even know if he’s still alive or not….did you know? Before I lost contact with him, I heard something from him.”

“What is it?”

“All of the transfer portals leading out of the First Galaxy have been destroyed. So even if we received backup, it will not come for at least six more years. They won’t be coming for us.”

Inside the dark void of the universe, the only two young soldiers that were still somewhat awake swallowed this pill of despair and found themselves speechless.

Momentarily after, the soldier turned his head to the young woman inside the medical capsule as if he was desperately searching for any rays of hope for a dose of courage: “Don’t think about this, we’re about to…”

Before he could finish, a siren rang out inside the broken mech.

“Watch out!”

Every resting soul inside the mech woke up instantly.

“Turn back, make an emergency warp!”

“Wha-….”

“Hurry! Our base has been attacked!”

There were 96 total bases for the rebel forces in the Third Galaxy. This was the 87th base to be blown up.

The whole world was like a ship that had crashed into a giant iceberg on the ocean, the storm still attacking the damaged cruise ship, slowly consuming it into darkness.