SOTOPIA: Artificial Pseudo-God

Before leaving, after some deliberation, Moskevich still called the number Frank had reserved in his mobile phone.

"Ms. Belikova of the Wilkas Psychological Clinic"—that's what the notes said, and Moskevich even confirmed the existence of the clinic in the city's Yellow Pages.It was indeed a woman who answered the phone, but her English seemed to have some Russian accents, and her accent was too strong and a bit blunt.

"I'm going to go to Texas, with Steven," he said bluntly. "Do you want to follow or escort?"

There were footsteps on the other end of the phone, and there was a brief silence; Moskevich held the phone, waiting for the other party's reply.Dozens of seconds later, it seemed that she had received an order from her boss, and Belikova responded: "No problem, you can move freely, and we will not intervene."

——This seems to be asking someone for permission to live. For the current self, it is simply ironic.

Moskevich laughed at himself and hung up the phone.When he looked up, he saw Steven standing at the door watching him.Steven clearly understands the need to negotiate with Sotopia, even though neither of them are willing to do so.

Looking at life after Moskevich's arrival, Steven has a different idea.

The younger tenant was not world-weary.To be precise, Moskevich had put those self-destructive impulses on hold after determining that "new possibilities" existed.Before getting the new identity from Sotopia, he had even begun to actively learn various so-called skills to survive in society-of course, this was not because he was so ignorant of the world in the past, in Steven's view, it was more like A micro-experiment that constructs a theoretical system in reality, and I am the one who sets the variables.

In the past 26 or [-] years, Moskevich was once at the center of knowledge and information flow, but he has never been able to have any real interaction with the outside world; now, he has been freed from imprisonment, but he still maintains a subtle onlooker posture.Steven noticed that Moskevich actually had a strong interest in social media, and even started playing XBOX under Caroline's recommendation, but the technology was poor.But in the face of all kinds of heated discussions on the Internet platform, even the topics he is most concerned about, he seems to just observe silently-no speech, no comment, just simple scrutiny, Steven can't even read from his expression Take even the slightest cues like tendencies and emotions.

Steven guessed that this was either because Moskevich was unwilling to use himself as an information processing tool as he did in Sotopia's laboratory in the past, or he was still cautious about the status quo and tried to Avoid exposing your true core that you have finally disguised in too much contact.

He let Moskevich live in a guest room that had been vacant in the past.Beds, wardrobes, cardboard boxes filled with sundries, the not-so-spacious room is actually a bit cramped, but Moskevich did not show any resistance or disgust, and Steven can also judge from his own experience that his "acceptance" is not The result of masquerading.At the same time, he returned the dagger that almost became a murder weapon to Moskevich—although it was not strictly their property, Moskevich laughed when he took it.

"You made me an accomplice in possession of evidence, Steven," Moskevich said.

Steven has an expression of pretending to be a good citizen after entering the play: "What are you talking about, isn't this your thing?"

On the first night after the "cohabitation", Steven was almost taken aback by Moskevich: he was absolutely sure that it was past one o'clock in the morning, he had already gone to bed, and the whole apartment was only lit at the junction of the living room and the hallway A small orange light.Moskevich just pushed open the door of the room without a sound, and sat directly on the chair beside his bed.Steven's sleep has always been very light. When he heard the movement around him, he reached for the bedside table containing his personal guns with one hand, and turned on the lamp on the cabinet with the other hand, but saw Moskevich sitting quietly in front of him, with his body still on his back. Wearing the shirt pajamas I lent him.

The light from the desk lamp shone on him from the side, casting more thick shadows than bright areas, so Steven couldn't see his expression clearly.Steven decided to wait for him to speak first, the hand that was about to reach for the gun stopped in mid-air, and then retracted.

Moskevich was quick to show why.But it must be admitted that his words are more like bitter sarcasm than black humor.

"You might not believe it if you tell me." He raised his head, his gray hair and pale skin seemed to be colored under the yellowish light. "I suddenly found that I couldn't fall asleep in this environment. Yes, I couldn't get used to the feeling of not being observed all the time. This is by no means over-reliance, let alone the kind of childlike coquettishness, it's just— It's just that this is so different from the past, and I don't know how to deal with this situation." Moskevich smiled wryly, which made Steven's heart sink again.

——Should I say I understand it well?No, this is not accurate, and I can't say that I empathize with it, at most it is a strong empathy.But never "sympathy," he must not have liked that term.Having said that, his confession may not be expecting the response of others, but looking for the answer from himself.

As usual, Steven thinks a lot, and sometimes even exceeds the scope of the other party's consideration, but the response he gives is often the most direct.For example, the solution.

"——How about this. I can watch from the side when you fall asleep." After speaking, Steven naturally sensed something was wrong, but he could only follow the trend. "You might try to imagine that you're still in the environment you're used to, and even convince yourself of it. Just in sleep, of course."

This is obviously not the best way to deal with it, and it can even be said to be bad. "Getting rid of the past" must be thorough and complete, especially on the psychological level.Steven thought so, but in fact, he could only proceed step by step.

Steven lifted the covers and got out of bed.He stood up, put his hand on Moskevich's shoulder naturally, and pulled his arm lightly.The young man's body is flexible and warm, and he can't help but have an extremely subtle throbbing, as comfortable as when he fell asleep lying on his back in the sun on a Texas farm when he was a teenager. "Let's go. Do you want me to pour you a cup of hot milk in the middle of the night, young master?" He teased.

Moskevich nodded lightly, and the light from the desk lamp cast the shadow of his slightly shaking hair on the wall.He followed Steven back to his room.As said before, Steven sat on the edge of his bed yawning and waiting.This gave Moskevich a subtle feeling: he is already 27 years old, but he outside the laboratory seems more like a blank slate because of the lack of experience corresponding to these times.This made him feel inexplicably ashamed.

"...You'd better go back. I always find it strange." Before falling asleep, he heard himself say this to Steven.

The former agent smiled lowly.Moskevich heard vaguely the sound of him getting up and carefully removing the chair.

"Good night, Moskevich."

Steven patted Moskevich, whose back was turned to him, reassuringly, and left the guest room.The latter clenched his wrist reflexively.

Getting from Los Angeles to Lubbock in Northwest Texas is no easy feat.Naturally, Steven was responsible for determining the route and preparing the luggage. Moskevich suddenly had the illusion that he was doing nothing—during this period, he even read all the old newspapers in Steven’s house. The next target Maybe it's the adult magazines he's tucked away at the bottom of the cabinet.

It was precisely because of this idea that Steven brought Moskevich and Caroline, who was keen to compare prices against the shopping list, when he went shopping in the supermarket before leaving.

The day before his trip to Texas, Steven went to Chinatown and spent two hours chatting with his informant there about the underground struggles surrounding several blocks and trying to make sense of it. "You can go to the lawyer named Higgins, he has some personal connections with the police and gangs." The informant said.

When he stubbed out the cigarette in his hand and walked towards the car parked outside, Steven saw an acquaintance: Kay, who came out of the coffee shop opposite, still had that capable appearance, holding a cup of iced coffee in his hand.

"Hey, Kay." Steven greeted her proactively.

The handsome junior who stayed in the FBI came over.From Kay's expression and attire, it is not difficult to see that she has official duties, and Steven doesn't intend to disturb her for too long.

Kay trotted a few steps across the road and walked up to him: "Is everything okay, Steven?"

Steven gave her a "figure it out" look.Kai smiled knowingly, but said nothing.

Steven knew that now he couldn't ask any questions about the work of the FBI-of course, he decided not to do so in the first place.Looking at the younger generation who sneaked in to chat with him, he just asked some irrelevant things: "Is Maynard not affected?"

Kaye knew he was referring to the Roberts Greert thing. "No. It's just that we've been busy again recently," she replied.

Steven laughed twice: "Let's stop here. I won't ask, and you can't tell."

Kai nodded with a wry smile.

Recently, Maynard began to reopen the investigation of the Silver Castle incident six years ago.She speculates that this should be Maynard's compromise in order to bypass Roberts' "tainted area" and re-exercise the special office's investigative powers.But it must be admitted that this method is very effective.It's just that Steven, who has left the FBI, can no longer participate in it-of course, Kaye thinks that Steven may be grateful for this.

"I'm leaving." She waved goodbye to Steven, and suddenly realized that they hadn't actually spoken a few words.

"See you later." Steven said, watching Kay go back to the other side of the road.The tied red hair was shaking, reminding him of the sunset in his hometown.