Can Ci Pin - - - Chapter 58

Chapter 58 – Fate No Longer Gives You A Choice

Lu Bixing stared at the calendar in a daze. There hadn’t been any markings before he left to deliver supplies to Saturday, so someone must’ve added that while he was gone.

He turned his head towards the other side of the mech dock; the executive building was just right ahead past a short alleyway, and the light inside Lin Jingheng’s room was on.

Ever since Zhanlu had accidentally outed him the last time, Lu Bixing hadn’t spoken to Lin Jingheng in private for a while.

The first few days after the incident, Lu Bixing’s dreams were haunted by Lin’s shocking expression replaying endlessly in his mind. The level of awkwardness was definitely high enough to be ranked within the top 10 most awkward experiences Lu Bixing ever had, making him restless around Lin Jingheng for a short while. Thankfully, shame was still a developing concept to the youthful headmaster Lu, and he was ready to have an intellectual discussion on social relations in theory and practice with Lin Jingheng after a few days.

That was when he found out that Lin started actively avoiding him.

Lu Bixing suspected that Lin Jingheng had some sort of secret invisibility powers; the commander somehow managed to make the Model 3 completely disappear from sight when he wasn’tdrilling the armed forces. Not even radar could track that monstrous ship when it disappeared. Lu Bixing finally learned why Lin was indifferent about the anti-detection system in the beginning; if everyone in the Silver Ten could just appear and disappear at will, there really was no point to go out of their way to set up another line of security.

Yet right at this moment, the lights in Lin’s room were on…and judging from the brightness, it wasn’t just a desk lamp for work.

This usually meant that he’s expecting a guest.

Lin was waiting for him

Yet Lu Bixing circled around the alleyway between the dock and the building pondering his dilemma and hesitated.

When they first arrived, Lu Bixing’s goal wasn’t that ambitious. He simply wanted to do his best to lower casualties in the war as much as possible; in the best case scenario this station managed to survive, and in the worst it was just misfortune out of his control. He even restrained himself from messing with Lin’s plan and wanted to create a balance between the two conflicting sides of interest.

Unfortunately, he was just an inexperienced daydreamer without the ability to detach his personal feelings from reality.

In the three months he spent on the station, Lu Bixing watched these weeds of life on the station struggle and grow with his own eyes. They rebuilt this dumpster of a station together to what it was today; the names and faces of everyone living here were engraved into Lu Bixing’s mind; he couldeven remember their individual stories. However, both his father and Lin Jingheng knew very well the unspoken rules of this pace and never bothered to learn the names of everyone they saw. They were aware that attachment and bonds would hold them back, and the more attached you grew the harder it would be to sever the links.

Lu Bixing had faced many adversities and challenges since he was little, but also received a lot of love and compassion. These were the unbreakable source of power gifted to him in the beginning of life, carrying him into the future that allowed him to become the optimist he was today. Even with the tragedy of his family and home, he was able to move forward and believe that good things will await in the future.

But…maybe he was wrong.

Night fell at the station, less than three hours away from the promised day. Foucault and Weasel had both only learned how to hide in the anti-detection system, and Saturday planned on disbanding the Self-Defense Squad. They had worked their hearts out to protect their homes but were still not able to make it in time.

Everything had come to an end, and Lu Bixing no longer had any way to satisfy both sides.

He wasn’t sure if he should go up and beg Lin Jingheng once more.

Three months was the absolute maximum time Lin Jingheng could give. This was based off of a famous study of war strategy proposed by Commander Lu Xin called the “Hundred-Day Hypothesis”. It stated that in a hypothetical situation where the galaxies entered a state of total war where communication networks become obsolete, the first to fall would be the people that relied too heavily on communication. Due to the complex environment of outer space, unless you were a complete psychopath like the Cayley pirates, most people would choose to act more conservatively on the battlefield. Each side would begin to expand their political holdings and authorities surrounding their command headquarters, and the number of armed confrontations would also drastically decrease. Usually it would take around three to four months before a new structure of the war arose, and due to the changes in the war situation it would become much harder to survive if any side remained under hiding at that point.

Lu Bixing didn’t want to test if Lin would make another concession for him due to personal feelings. Logically, he knew he shouldn’t hold the commander back anymore…but what about the people on the station?

Saturday, Holiday, Ms. Foucault, Weasel, Ms. Plump, old cinema lady…do they really all deserve to be swallowed up by this damned time of war?

“Professor Lu?” Lu Bixing heard someone call his name from behind and turned around; it was Ms. Plump.

Ms. Plump was dressed very casually, with slippers still on her feet and a towel still on her head, while carrying two large bags. She asked him curiously: “I saw someone walking back and forth from my place so I took a peek outside and found that it was you. What are you doing out here so late?”

Lu Bixing gave an awkward smile: “And what brings you here?”

“Ugh, it’s those old folks again.” Ms. Plump said. “They’re always out there messing with something. They said it’s New Year’s today and wanted to celebrate, so they made me bring them some cake by midnight. Seriously, these old folks don’t have teeth anymore and still want holiday cake? Don’t they know that one year passed is one less year they can live?”

Lu Bixing became speechless and quickly turned his gaze back to the calendar on the dock; he had paid so much attention to the deadline that he forgot that today was the last day of the year.

No wonder Saturday insisted on staying the night before he returned to the station.

Ms. Plump continued to rant on her own as she scrambled through her bags to pull out a small box. She handed the box to Lu Bixing, who immediately knew that it was a lunch box cake. A lunch box cake was a type of dessert that originated from ancient Earth that became widely popular during the New Galactic Age of Exploration; the cake itself didn’t have a fixed shape and was usually hand made, which usually included multiple layers of varying sweets combinations. It was convenient and easy to eat without having to pull up a table during long expeditions.

There was even a chocolate writing on the top layer that said “Happy New Year”.

“Did you eat yet? Here, have this for supper.” Ms. Plump shoved the box into Lu Bixing’s hand and gave him a firm slap on the back. “You’re still growing, young man, better eat this up. When my son was your age, he was way bigger than you, at least 230 kilos.”

Lu Bixing laughed dryly: “230 kilos is a little big of a stretch, I’m fine staying on the thinner side. Thanks.”

Ms. Plump waved at him and went off towards the residential area.

She was single and unmarried, but rumors had it that she’d had a baby boy in the past who passed before he could reach 10 years old. In her mind, the little boy that couldn’t make it probably grew up to be a large and strong man and was perhaps waiting for her to come back home to celebrate the eve with family.

Lu Bixing took a deep breath as he looked at the wriggly writing on the cake and made his way towards the executive building.

I really shouldn’t have learned all their stories, he thought.

Ten sailing days away, the Self-Defense Squad’s mechs were all gathered up to celebrate the quiet new year. These folks had taken their naps in the day and were all unusually energetic as they all sat around to chat.

Holiday took a bite off his condensed meal while holding his rabbit ashes and exclaimed: “Mine’s tuna flavored this time, I heard it’s good luck to have fish for new year’s!”

“Where did you hear that from, huh? What kind of tradition is that, you’re just making things up again right?”

“It’s a tradition from ancient Earth,” Holiday answered like a buzzing bee. “My mom told me about it.”

A sea of laughter flooded the communication network as he finished, and Holiday angrily tried to defend his statement as the others started throwing out dirty comments and mockery.

Saturday didn’t join in the chat with them. He was laying on the control panel of his mech with his eyes closed, looking far off into space through the mental network. The network was still collecting random signals and energy waves from the vast universe and making marks on the signal reports.

The noisy channel suddenly quieted down, and Saturday heard someone call his name.

“Huh?” Saturday responded. “What were you guys saying?”

“Are you really going to disband the Self-Defense Squad?” A member asked. “I don’t think we’re any worse than the others, to be honest. Foucault has more people, and Weasel…we’re at least stronger than Weasel, right? None of them are in a hurry to disband, why do we have to be the first?”

“I never even dreamed that I could pilot a mech into space one day, or even participate in patrols and drills.” Another member added, “Wouldn’t it all be a waste if we just disbanded now?”

“We didn’t have our physical training today so I didn’t get to exercise, and it feels really weird.”

“Hey boss, what are we gonna do after we disband?”

Saturday turned away in frustration without a word. Then, after a moment of silence he said, with his back still facing the camera: “Do whatever you want, you can join other teams so at least it wouldn’t feel like your training was a waste.”

Holiday declared: “But we only want to follow you!”

Saturday felt a loud thump in his chest, and could almost feel his eyes watering. He held it in by staring hard at the energy graph on his mech and didn’t respond.

But nobody else seemed to know how to keep quiet; after Holiday’s proclamation, the rest of the Self-Defense Squad started adding in their own comments.

“We only joined the Self-Defense Squad because we wanted to follow you. If you weren’t our boss, nobody could make me get up at 6am every morning to run and jump.”

“I don’t like Weasel, and Foucault has too many people over there. Even if I join it’d just be following a crowd of dead fishes, not fun.”

“Boss, is this even a question?”

“Hey Saturday, I must say…”

Saturday felt like his vision was getting blurrier by the second, as if the graph in front of him was also starting to wobble. He turned his head down and wiped the tears away- then he saw it, the energy graph really was moving.

The complex lines on the graph were rippling like ocean waves, indicating that the outermost layer had the largest degree of fluctuation. Then, the screen above automatically listed lines after lines of calculations that he couldn’t understand. Saturday stood dumbfounded at the screen and thought: “What was this thing supposed to mean again?”

Within the next instant, he jumped up and opened up his personal device to search for the manual for dummies that Lu Bixing made for them. He pulled it up and compared it side by side with the graph monitor, until he found the exact graph from the manual to reference from. Saturday’s eyes shifted towards the caption on the manual that read “Unidentified mech (armed fleet) is closing in.”

“Everyone keep quiet!” Saturday yelled in alarm into the chat as he quickly pulled up the monitoring function of the anti-detection system. On the very outskirts of the system, he saw the forbidding shadows of a few mechs moving towards their direction. “Send a message to the station, there are unidentified mechs closing in…at least ten…no, more than that! Everyone, check your shields and armory, quick!”

Inside the station, Lin Jingheng opened his room door to an expected guest.

Lu Bixing instinctively pulled his hand out for a greeting, but then remembered the cake he brought and said: “Today is New Year’s Eve, so I….uh, thought I’d share this cake with you.”

He then suddenly remembered something and peeked inside Lin’s room: “Also, um…”

“Zhanlu’s not here, don’t worry.” Lin Jingheng stepped aside to let Lu Bixing in and said, “I left him inside the Model 3.”

Lu Bixing, the same AI maniac that used to be head over heels for Zhanlu, let out a big sigh of relief in his mind. He was starting to feel like he was becoming more anti-technology by the day.

There was a 3D navigation map opened on Lin Jingheng’s desk that extended from the top of the table all the way up to the ceiling; the commander closed the map and pulled up a chair for Lu Bixing by the table. He thoughtfully poured a cup of coffee for him and went straight to the point: “I’m assuming you saw the calendar already. You came here because you wanted to talk to me, have you decided what you’re gonna say yet?”

Lu Bixing froze up for a second before his shoulders relaxed in defeat: “…No. I just got back from sending off supplies to Saturday and haven’t eaten yet, let me fill my stomach first.”

Lin Jingheng wanted to offer him something to eat until he opened up his fridge and saw an entire shelf full of neatly stacked nutrition bars. Even the tiny lunch box looked more appetizing at this point, so he gave up and closed the fridge.

“Don’t just watch me eat,” Lu Bixing handed him an extra spoon and nudged Lin with his feet under the table. “Here, have a taste.”

Lin Jingheng didn’t move.

Lu Bixing sighed, scooped up a small piece with the spoon and shoved it right to Lin’s face: “Come on, just one bite.”

Lin Jingheng first moved away on instinct, then finally let out a long sigh before admitting defeat and took a bite off Lu Bixing’s hand as if he were taking an off-putting medicine.

Lu Bixing’s gaze slipped from the spoon to Lin’s lips before he forced himself to look away. He turned to the clock on the edge of the desk; it was two hours and ten minutes away from midnight.

“We still have a bit more time, so let’s talk about something else first.” Lu Bixing suddenly spoke. “I’ve been looking for you these past few days…ahem.”

Lu Bixing cleared his throat and sat up straight like he was going into a job interview: “Last time I went to look for you……the time I locked you in the medical chamber actually, I did a full body scan on myself while you were asleep.”

Lin Lingheng: “…”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to this strange ice breaker.

Lu Bixing also noticed how much it sounded like a final will from a terminally ill patient to his friends and family and rubbed his nose awkwardly before he continued: “……I found out that my hormone levels were abnormal at the time.”

He quickly shot a glance at Lin Jingheng before mustering up the courage to look directly into the pair of grey eyes before him. His words were starting to scramble up but continued: “I don’t…I don’t have too much experience, but according to theory, my conclusion is that…”

Just then, his personal device started flashing an alarm in red.

Lu Bixing almost choked on his own words. Just as he was about to turn off his device, he saw the red signal that indicates a connection request from the main contact station.

The next moment, as if the entire mech dock woke up from slumber, all the alarm systems went off at the same time. The loud alarm pierced the quiet night of the space station and lit up numerous residential lights. Lu Bixing quickly turned his head towards Lin Jingheng.

“I haven’t sent out the signal yet.” Lin Jingheng stood up and opened up the window. “Even if I did, it would still require the Ninth Squadron to accept the connection before we could set up a communication terminal. I’m thinking we just ran into a small scouting squad from Cayley’s fleet…head over to the contact station immediately.”

Lu Bixing ran off before he could finish.

On the table, the New Year’s cake was left mostly uneaten with only a small scoop in the corner.

The patrolling route was way beyond the signal range of the station’s internal communication network, so Saturday and his squad had to use the transfer portals to send in a fixed point signal to the main contact station.

“What’s the situation right now?” Lu Bixing asked from the contact station.

Saturday’s voice was tensed up as he answered choppily: “Your anti-detection system just detected that a fleet of mechs were approaching, but we can’t really see…it could be pirates…not sure how many…What did you just say, Holiday? Oh, right! They’re sending out some sort of scouting signal…let me check, these kinds of signals…”

“Electromagnetic rays,” Lin Jingheng finished his line. “Also known as the minesweeper. It’s one of Prince Cayley’s favorite tools.”

Saturday audibly gasped.

“Don’t worry,” Lu Bixing followed up quickly. “The problem with the energy siphon was solved last time; the electromagnetic waves can’t detect you guys. We don’t have the station’s outer network opened, it’s highly likely that they are only here by coincidence…”

“Right, a coincidence. They won’t detect anything, so they will either retreat or continue forward.” Lin Jingheng interrupted. “The Primal Alien’s fleet was completely demolished, Prince Cayley must be walking on his toes right now. He has reason to suspect that there is a powerful fleet hiding along the edge of the Eighth Galaxy. He’s going to be more careful now that he lost a subordinate, which is why I’m guessing he is sending out small teams of scouting squads right now. It shouldn’t be more than 15 mechs total, don’t worry, check again.”

Fifteen mech were like 15 little flies to commander Lin, but it wasn’t enough to give Saturday reassurance. The Self-Defense Squad only had 30 total mechs, and their opponents were experienced space pirates that wouldn’t show mercy on the battlefield; they stood no chance against the pirates.

Saturday stuttered: “They…they’re still closing in, w-what should we do?”

“If you want, you can continue hiding.” Lin Jingheng said, “But I suggest you cut off communication right now.”

Saturday: “Huh? W-what did you say?”

“If they continue forward, it’s possible they’ll pass the anti-detection system by chance.” Lu Bixing explained, “And if that happens, your fixed point communication right now will be located.”

“Or you beat them up before that happens.” Lin Jingheng added coldly and commanded, “Zhanlu, send the locating signal to the Ninth Squadron.”

The next instant, the Model 3 slowly lit up in silver light. A powerful energy wave followed through the numerous transfer portals like a giant interstellar ripple caused by a station-sized torpedo dropping into the sea of stars.

At that moment, Saturday saw that the squad of pirates suddenly stopped and switched their formation. They carefully raised their nightmarish flag of Cayley fleet as they moved forward in caution. Saturday could feel himself breaking down: “C-commander Lin, you said to beat up who?? Ahh! Shit, they’re opening up with a damn missile!”

“Congratulations, fate no longer gives you a choice.” Lin Jingheng turned around and pressed Lu Bixing’s shoulders firmly. He pulled out a pair of plain white gloves from his pocket and slowly put them on as he walked off, “This is a ‘sacrifice’ made by a small squad of scouting pirates. Call up your other two wimpy fleets…those losers don’t know how to make emergency transfers, so we’ll need to go through portals right? That’ll take us about three hours to get there, which should be enough time…how fast can you gather them up?”

Lu Bixing took a deep breath and said: “Maybe around 20 minutes.”

“Okay.” Commander Lin experienced a moment of cultural shock at this number and slowly nodded helplessly: “Twenty minutes; tell your elderly tour squad friends to put on their broken dentures, shave their armpits clean, and follow me when they’re ready.”

Book 3 – Tide of the Raging Waves