SOTOPIA: Artificial Pseudo-God

Moskevich had questioned one thing: how Steven would introduce himself to Caroline.Fortunately, the answer to this question did not exceed my own predictions.

"This is a friend of mine. He just came to Los Angeles and has no relatives around him. He will live with us for a long time in the future." Steven said to Caroline.The latter had just returned from a friend's house, and his clothes still smelled of apple pie.Steven also gave Moskevich a wink, signaling him to "just follow this character set and the script."

Since he had no experience in dealing with children, the young man didn't know whether his expression and tone after his efforts were friendly enough: "My name is Moskevich," he squatted halfway, smiling and reaching out to the little blond girl. "Then I will be your and Steven's tenants."

Caroline nodded, the gesture of shaking hands with Moskevich and the smile without haze were both lively and unaffected.From this point of view, although the girl lost her biological parents prematurely, Steven's education made up for this loss well.

It only took a few minutes to confirm the positioning of the three of them, but it took two days to really close the distance between Moskevich and Caroline.Without telling Caroline, Steven took Moskevich to a pet store a few blocks away and picked out a juvenile Beagle harrier for her birthday.Steven was responsible for buying the dog, and Moskevich used the money Frank gave him to match the puppy with an exquisite dog tag and collar, which should be regarded as a late meeting gift.

"Thank you, Steven!" The girl who received the gift brightened her eyes, hugging the soft-fur puppy and didn't want to let go.The small metal dog tag is engraved with "Rayman" and a number -- that's the pup's name and date of birth.Caroline picked it up, ran to Moskevich who was standing aside, raised her head and thanked him with a smile: "Thank you, Moss!"

At first, Moskevich just wanted to witness the warm scene as an outsider, but unexpectedly got the girl's thanks.Hearing the unfamiliar name of "Moss", he subconsciously repeated the mouth shape that pronounced the syllable, and looked at Steven with some doubts. "Is that a nickname?" he asked Steven softly.

The 32-year-old unemployed man smiled: "Who told you to give yourself a bad name."

Moskevich, a skeptic of scientism, even feels that the current life is actually a bit of destiny-the eight-year-old Caroline in front of him, such an unfortunate and lucky little girl who is also related to Sotopia, seems to be using His inadvertently revealed temperament, words and deeds complemented for him the "should" life picture that he lacked in his childhood.

— she is very happy.

Moskevich saw Steven mouth that to himself, and he couldn't help smiling in response.

The documents prepared by Sotopia for Moskevich were the same as the tape No. 3 at that time. They were all sealed in humble brown kraft paper bags and placed directly at the door of Steven's house.

It was Moskevich who heard the doorbell and brought it in.He glanced at the contents of the bag, and subconsciously glanced at Steven who was sitting on the sofa with Caroline watching TV.Steven had a stack of newspapers and magazines and pencils in hand—he was thinking about this, and so was Moskevich.

Steven caught his gaze.

Moskevich slightly raised his head in the direction opposite to the living room, and then walked into the kitchen with a paper bag. Steven immediately put down the pen and paper knowingly and followed.

The kitchen space is a little cramped, with a narrow aisle between the marble counters and dining cabinets on both sides.The two stood facing each other, each leaning on something behind them.Moskevich took out the things packed in the file bag from the paper bag, flipping through the thin papers with his pale and slender fingers, while Steven was verifying the authenticity of the other documents——Moskevich noticed , The photo above was taken when he was in the laboratory.In short, such a number of printed materials and files that have been written into the system mean that Moskevich has changed from a "artificial false god" in a laboratory to an unknown second-generation immigrant with a forged identity background such as his Ordinary as you wish.

Steven is about the same height as Moskevich, with the former being a bit more stocky.He put the certificate in his hand aside and stared at Moskevich who was still confirming the information. The 27-year-old youth lowered his head slightly, his eyes focused.Under the incandescent lamp in the kitchen, from his angle, the light-colored eyelashes seemed to glow.It was also at this moment that Steven discovered that the other party's eyes were not pure lead gray, but also had a hint of cool blue in them.

"It's all the most basic personally identifiable information. Although it's not rich, it's enough." Steven commented. "They don't prepare you for an educational experience or anything like that, though."

Moskevich put the documents back in his bag, looked up at Steven, and slightly adjusted his standing posture leaning on the table.His expression was very relaxed, and his tone became lighter: "There are too many institutions involved, and it is easier to have flaws in the proof. And I don't think I need these."

Steven tilted his head—Moskevich felt that this was probably not approval—but did not question the other party's statement.On the contrary, he seemed to talk about another unrelated topic very casually: "Just now, I probably thought of a relatively ideal new job."

— Well, maybe not entirely irrelevant.

Moskevich thought so, crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows with interest, waiting for Steven to continue.

Steven touched his pocket and found that his cigarette case hadn't been taken, so he gave up.The smokeless fingers had no choice but to turn Moskevich's social security card. "There are so many options—of course, if you keep working as a freelancer, there is no contradiction between these types of jobs, and you can even earn more."

"Oh?"

"One," Steven raised his index finger, "I have a few friends who work in dangerous areas—well, they're informants," he corrected Moskevich in a cowardly manner wording. "Something like 'finisher' was mentioned."

"I understand your desire for excitement. But it's too dangerous, think about Caroline." Moskevich interrupted Steven. "And it's against order."

——You see, this person is so eager to get rid of the control of Sotopia, the order machine, but in essence, he still unconsciously takes order as the center of his ideas.

Steven thought so, but he didn't say these words, and he will never mention them in the future.He shook his head and added: "I didn't say I was going to do this, I was just inspired - think about it, they actually want to play around the edges of the law than crime; and we are all too familiar with the gray area between black and white , well aware of their needs and obstacles. Taking a step back, some of these people also want to maintain the status quo. They often have a higher status and want to maintain checks and balances. At this time, they will need support in knowledge and ability. "

This unspoken rule belonging to the category of urban sociology is obviously in the blind spot of Moskevich's knowledge.He thought quickly for a moment, then frowned and asked Steven: "A middleman in charge of mediation?"

Steven nodded and further clarified the scope: "It's not entirely dangerous—I don't plan to touch things that cross the border and dangerous people, at most it's for the police to prevent some small-scale disputes in advance. Easy to get out of."

Moskevich did not explicitly express his support or opposition, but simply said "what about the second one".

"This is much easier. You also know my educational background. A classmate who is working in a magazine recommended me a freelance writing job. The specific scope can be negotiated separately. I think you are more interested in this. Travel literature , battlefield memories, or analysis of historical issues, which one do you prefer?"

"Are you planning for me?" Moskevich couldn't help laughing. "You, a former agent, have a confidentiality agreement, so I'm afraid you can't write much to catch people's attention."

Steven's eyes were meaningful: "I'm not keen on exposing my dark experience to others."

Moskevich reminded him: "In the hospital in Clovis, you once complained to me and expressed dissatisfaction with your superiors."

"Honestly, I have a lot of sympathy for him right now."

The hour chime came from the TV.Steven poked his head out and glanced at Caroline who had turned off the TV, and turned to Moskevich and said, "Let's talk about this after our family trip to Texas is over."

Moskevich put away the documents neatly, and his mannerisms were somewhat rigorous and serious.He confirmed to Steven: "Go by car?" It seemed that he couldn't understand the romantic feelings of this road movie.

"Yes, just drive my new Sonata, and the destination is my hometown in the southeast."