Warren Field was a man much thinner than we imagined. When he died a natural death, he was a centenarian, his body shriveled almost beyond recognition. This elderly starship commander sat quietly on the only chair in the small storage room, covered with a layer of frost; his hair and beard were completely white, his face deeply wrinkled, and his skin was dark, resembling an old farr who had labored in the fields for many years. The only thing that still attested to his military identity was the impeccably straight officer’s uniform on his body: it fit him a little loosely but still looked majestic.
The old man’s hands were rigidly frozen over his chest, under the frost was a small data terminal clutched tightly by him.
Sandora stepped forward but hesitated when she reached for the data terminal, then she carefully placed her fingers on the terminal’s casing and used an extraordinarily precise space transmission to teleport the palm-sized device directly out: I could see this was to protect that fragile body. Even though the environnt in the small storage room kept Warren Field’s remains vivid to this day, he was not immortally preserved like the ancestors, perhaps even a slight touch would turn the remains to dust.
"It still works." Sandora checked the working state of the data terminal and nodded slightly. After completing the initialization authentication, the device, which had been shut down for tens of thousands of years, lit up once again. She found the special code used to awaken the ship’s onboard mainfra and activated it, then waited quietly. About a minute passed, and we seed to hear so faint noises from the depths of the spaceship, followed by the hum of various devices activating and high-power lines coming back online from all directions. The ship’s onboard mainfra was rebooting, and the long-dormant redundant equipnt and radar devices were beginning to activate. We suddenly received reports from the fleets outside: "Your Majesty! The ghost ship is stirring, its external equipnt seems to have awakened!"
"I know, Sandora is activating the ship," I answered casually, "Just keep it suppressed, its engines aren’t off yet. Also, notify the follow-up personnel to co in fifteen minutes later, the spaceship is safe now."
I ended the communication, and Sandora looked around the empty cabin and suddenly said, "Mainfra, can you hear the sound here?"
"Mainfra responding," a gentle electronic female voice echoed from all directions, "Full system self-check completed, mainfra functioning normally, spaceship damage exceeds ninety percent, full system in standby mode."
"We can talk about these reports later," Sandora waved her hand, "Do you know who we are? Is your permission authentication system still functional?"
The gentle voice sounded again: "Authentication normal, Sandora Kaelvi Yurasis, Your Majesty, emperor permissions, unrecorded individual, emperor permissions, others are unidentifiable unrecorded individuals, including one Divine Race."
Dingdang was poking her head out of my pocket, looking around. Even such a tiny creature was recognized, it seems the ship’s onboard mainfra is in pretty good working order, as it can identify Sandora and my permission levels, everything should be manageable.
"What’s the situation with this ship?" Sandora asked while glancing at Warren Field’s remains, "And what’s with this awakened human? Which Sky Zone do you co from?"
"This ship does not belong to any independent Sky Zone, it was a non-formal unit arranged by so special authority individual in the last era, the mission of this ship was to escape the collapsing Empire, and keep wandering in the Void, searching for possible new fire seeds according to the predictive route, i.e., other survivors escaping the Imperial District. Warren Field’s awakening was due to an accident, irresistible force, the ship was damaged during the escape, and could only execute the awakening program."
The situation matched what was ntioned in Warren’s diary and what we speculated: This exile ship was intercepted by the crazy Imperial Army soon after its departure, and although it was in a highly silent state, appearing like a dead ship, the judgnt-lost Imperial Army severely damaged it, causing the hibernation facilities to malfunction, and most of the ship’s functions ca to a halt, leading the unfortunate starship commander to begin his decades-long solitary voyage. Sandora pondered for a mont, as if suddenly realizing sothing was amiss: "Mainfra, why didn’t it put this human back into hibernation? Is the ship’s hibernation system really completely jamd, even you can’t unlock it?"
I was curious about it too: Warren Field’s decades of solitary life could actually be ended by just one thing, returning to the hibernation chamber. But Warren ntioned in his diaries that the hibernation system refused him back into the chamber, and he explained it was due to a complete malfunction of the hibernation system, a hard logic error, causing the chamber to refuse to reopen, but the existence of the ship’s onboard mainfra seed to make this explanation unconvincing: the ship’s onboard mainfra is a semi-personified AI with rational thinking capabilities, except for not having a conventional physical body, you can essentially consider any onboard mainfra on an Imperial Starship as a special Xyrin Apostle, though these mainfras are limited by their responsibilities and have weaker personalities, they at least have the ability to correct logical bugs of other equipnt and even proactively avoid self-logic loopholes.
In other words: this ship’s onboard mainfra isn’t dumb, she should be able to recognize Warren Field’s awakening as a mistake instantly, and even she admits the human’s awakening was due to an accident, so she is definitely capable of unlocking the deadlock of the hibernation system actively, as the highest authority control center on the ship, the onboard mainfra has such fault-checking capabilities and responsibilities—but she didn’t do it.
The starship’s main computer seed to hesitate for half a second before responding to Sandora’s question, "The hibernation chamber is destroyed."
We were all stunned, even Little Crow couldn’t help but caw. Although this bird wasn’t very smart, its surprise was enough to show how unexpected the main computer’s statent was.
"What do you an by ’destroyed the hibernation chamber’?" I snapped back from my shock and asked loudly.
"The first wave of attacks destroyed the ship’s external defense periter. The second wave hit the ship’s secondary energy node, and the resulting ghost energy surge backfired into the core compartnts, destroying the hibernation area. By the ti the ship escaped pursuit, all hibernation areas had been severely damaged, ghost energy perated and polluted all facilities, killing almost all crew mbers. Warren Field was the only survivor, but he himself was unaware of this."
Sandora’s gaze fell on the remains in the center of the room: "So... he wasn’t naturally awakened?"
"Indeed," the main computer replied in its usual calm tone, "After discovering the hibernation area was contaminated by high concentrations of ghost energy, the ship deployed its remaining autonomous machines to search for injured crew mbers, eventually finding only one survivor. Warren Field was taken to the dical room for rescue, and the ship completely locked down the hibernation area to prevent the spread of contamination to the last clean compartnts."
"And then you tricked him into believing that he was prematurely awakened due to a hibernation facility malfunction, and prohibited him from approaching that compartnt using the excuse of a hibernation system lock-up," I sorted out the facts and found that the truth was almost worlds apart from what was ntioned in Warren’s diary, "In reality, there’s nothing behind the isolation door, is there? You were afraid he might collapse?"
"The ship made the above decision based on the Haicona psychological template input before departure. Based on logical analysis, the ship believed Warren Field needed psychological support and a relatively mild accident explanation to have a chance to survive, and continue to work with a normal mindset. The psychological support was that the hibernation area’s fellow crew mbers were still alive, while the mild accident explanation was a system malfunction. This logical judgnt showed shortcomings later, as Warren Field still fell into years-long chaos, but overall, it achieved its intended effect."
Things beca clear now: Why couldn’t the high-authority and self-correcting ship’s main computer deal with a small hibernation system bug; why did the main computer completely shut down the hibernation area, even we couldn’t find that compartnt; why when Warren Field tried to awaken other hibernating crew for companionship, the main computer would stop him with a la excuse like "insufficient ship supplies" — this reason is entirely unfounded because we know how powerful the Empire’s information-to-matter conversion equipnt is; if it can provide food and air for one person, it can supply a thousand humans instead.
The true reason the ship’s main computer prohibited Warren from accessing the hibernation compartnt was simply one: it was long gone.
Perhaps credit should be given to the Old Empire’s alienation and disregard for the servant army. Warren Field was unfamiliar with the technical details of this ship. Based on what he ntioned in his diary, we can clearly judge he was unfamiliar with most Empire equipnt, knowing only usage rather than principles and specific power. This common feature marked the servant army of the Old Empire at that ti; the Imperial Army practicing iron-fisted policies required only those cannon-fodder races to know how to pull the trigger, which was enough. If it were the New Empire’s servant army, the situation would not be the sa.
Through those fragnted diaries, we can indirectly understand Warren Field’s psychological state. It is evident from start to finish those "lying bastards" in the hibernation compartnt held imnse weight in this starship commander’s mind. He envied them, was jealous of them, missed them, and even resented them, deliberately hypnotizing himself to ignore them — no matter which psychological state, "crew mbers in the hibernation area" remained the hardest thing for this old captain to let go of during his lifeti. Precisely because there were still people on the ship, he could maintain basic working motivation. If he knew from the start he was helming an empty ship, he might have collapsed imdiately.
"The situation is largely understood now," Sandora looked at the data terminal in her hand, "You did the right thing. Though not entirely correct, you did the right thing."
"Wait a minute!" At this mont, Lilina suddenly jumped out, "Hold on, I still have questions!"
"The starship’s main computer needs to confirm your query authority."
"She has the authority to have you answer all questions." I patted Lilina on the head and said to the ship’s mainfra. The mainfra was isolated from the New Empire’s authority network, so it didn’t recognize Lilina. Even my identification was like Gaia back then, a "stranger with authority equivalent to the Fifteenth Day Zone Emperor," so I needed to explain.
"Ship’s mainfra understands, please proceed with the questions."
"So, according to you, all the people in the ship’s hibernation zone are dead, right?" Lilina pulled Dingdang out of my pocket and placed it on her head. "In other words, there should be no life at all on this ship, but both the Lady Goddess and I feel there should be life here. What’s going on? Is there another living person on the ship?"
"This ship possesses barrier-type interference; you shouldn’t be able to perceive these situations."
"Forget about the reason," Lilina waved her hand, "is there another living person on this ship or not?"
At this mont, Sandora and I couldn’t help but perk up our ears; Lilina’s question really piqued our curiosity. The ship’s mainfra paused for a noticeably long ti, a second or two, before it replied: "Please prepare for transmission, the ship will guide you to the ecological zone."
A flash of light appeared before our eyes, and we found ourselves in a place we hadn’t discovered before. It seed to be another large chamber at the core of the ship.
This place was as vast as the activity hall, but there were fewer furnishings in the space. We couldn’t see any equipnt, instrunts, or control seats related to ship navigation around. The ceiling above the hall seed to have been modified, with so piping and nozzles hanging in a manner that appeared sowhat disorganized to . But these weren’t the things that caught one’s attention. The truly striking aspect lay on the ground in the center of the hall:
There was actually a nursery!
Indeed, a lush green field in the center of the hall!
"Long ti no see, it seems the automated system left at the ti took good care of this place, and now it’s harvest season again."
The voice of the ship’s mainfra ca from all directions, and for so reason, I detected a hint of nostalgia and reminiscence in what should have been an emotionless synthetic voice.
"Is this... the vegetable garden ntioned in Warren Field’s journal?" I imdiately connected the dots to the journals I had seen before. In the latter half of Warren Field’s life, he practically relied on tending to a vegetable garden to maintain his focus. If I’m not mistaken, this thod of relaxation was suggested by the ship’s mainfra—it was astonishing that this vegetable garden was preserved till now!
"Exactly so. The ship comprehensively analyzed the Haicona people’s psychological templates and compared them with Warren Field’s ntal state, ultimately finding a way to keep him ntally stable over the long term."
"After that human’s death, was it the automated system taking care of this vegetable garden?" Sandora suddenly asked, "Was it his dying wish or your own arrangent?"
"The decision was made by this ship, unrelated to Warren Field."
"You shouldn’t have this logic at all, including your psychological analysis and various ’treatnt plans’ for carbon-based life. All of this should be beyond your preset database, you learned them on your own?"
"Indeed, this ship’s initial mission was to safely escort the exiled out of the Imperial District. After the accident, Warren Field beca the only individual under this ship’s guardianship. This ship adjusted the work priority, listing the protection of the Haicona individual as the top project. The ship tracked and studied Warren Field’s behavioral patterns and tried to analyze his psychological changes, ultimately establishing a supervisory toolkit more comprehensive than the preset database."
"Looks like the life signals instinctively sensed were from this vegetable garden," Lilina murmured next to , "maintaining this ecosystem unchanged for tens of thousands of years, even an automated system is astounding."
I gazed quietly at the square vegetable plot, at most a dozen ters on each side. Haicona seed to be a planet extrely similar to Earth. Although these plants had strange forms, they were lush and vibrant, strikingly similar to Earth’s green vegetation. They were thriving now, seeming as if they had been watered recently. The bright little droplets could still be seen sparkling at the edges of so leaves. I imagined how, tens of thousands of years ago, a lonely Starship Commander tilled, harvested, docunted here, unknowingly facing the fact that he was the only living being on the ship, dedicating his life to a now-illusory mission. His only companion was this not-so-intelligent ship’s mainfra...
Now that commander was gone, but the vegetable garden he left behind had been tended by the automated system until now, still preserved in its original form after tens of thousands of years.
This automated system for tending the vegetable garden wasn’t necessary in fact. If it were a ship’s mainfra freshly off the production line, it certainly wouldn’t waste the ship’s energy on sothing so insignificant to the mission. At least a normal, Old Empire’s ship’s mainfra wouldn’t do that. However, the mainfra of the Xyrin No. 6 did just that.
The mainfra attributed everything to logic, but I felt it was not just about logic.
I looked at Lilina, who was exchanging glances with Dingdang; finally, they both showed a look of regret and shook their heads at : not all life can be resurrected; a mortal entering an Immortal State like the ancestors was just an exception. Warren Field could not co back.
"At least he ca to peace in the end, and you stayed with him till the last," Sandora must have been thinking the sa as I was, so she unprecedently comforted a ship’s control system, then she ntioned the initial mission of this ship, "Mainfra, you should have the mission details of this ship and the final intelligence of the affiliated Sky Zone, upload them to ."
"Mainfra understands. The ship’s initial mission logs and ssages sent to other survivors will be uploaded to your data terminal, along with information about the ship’s construction. Please prepare to receive."
Sandora confird she received the data, but she didn’t rush to view it; instead, she continued speaking to the ship’s mainfra: "Can it rejoin the fleet?"
The ship’s mainfra remained silent for a while; Sandora patiently waited. We heard a series of low sounds coming from deep within the ship as if so new large-scale equipnt was coming online. Then the lights in the hall dimd once before the calm electronic synthesized voice sounded again:
"Xyrin No. 6 Ship, mainfra N-CCER-06 fully operational, core ready, this ship is on standby." (To be continued. If you like this work, please go to Qidian (qidian) to vote for recomndations and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation. Mobile users, please go to m.qidian for reading.)
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