SOTOPIA: Artificial Pseudo-God

Tollin really realized that he had a crush on Kay, who was a year or two older, after Steven left the FBI; he found that Maynard was not alone as he had imagined in the past, before restarting the investigation of the Silver Castle incident.

Even before leaving the office area after get off work, the serious and low-key boss never seems to have received any private calls, let alone actively dialed out.The ordinary staff who do not go out to work in the special office often take advantage of the lunch break to chat, and the inevitable topic is to ridicule his extremely lack of private life.Before passing the probationary inspection, Torin, who often stayed in the office to familiarize himself with the work, spent more time with the internal staff, and therefore heard a lot of innocuous rumors—of course, more of them were positive.For example, the excellent grades during the Maynard College period, the somewhat withdrawn but not paranoid temperament, and the teacher who left the National Academy for some reason.

Due to his relatively young age and cheerful temperament, Tollin often takes the initiative to buy lunch for his colleagues, and it is normal for him to walk into the building with stacks of fast food boxes and drink cups at the same time.Maynard, who is accustomed to eating at nearby restaurants, has never participated in such a social office event.However, he often entrusts Kay to buy some desserts with enough calories for his colleagues, just like the subtle encouragement and spurs in the department's daily meetings, which prevents subordinates from resisting and resisting his slightly indifferent attitude. It gave a feeling of "he is just not sociable, but his personality is actually mild".

For Tollin, these trivialities are actually passable-although dangerous, they correspond to excellent qualifications and a considerable salary level.Unfortunately, whenever he wanted to ask Kay out alone (he always thought he was far from the word "date"), there were always more urgent tasks ahead of him.From National Day to now, it is not easy to wait for a proper opportunity.

"Okay, where are we going?"

When he heard Kay's quick promise, Torin fell into a short-circuit state of confusion.When he heard himself say "Let's go to the natural history museum" like a socially disabled middle school student, he wanted to punch himself with regret.

But this unexpectedly hit Kay's interest—she even seemed happy, saying that she hadn't seen an exhibition with a friend since college, and Torrin suddenly felt that she was actually a lucky one.

These conversations take place just before the department's daily meetings wrap up and it's time to pack up and leave the office area.With such an uncontrollable excitement, Tollin walked out of the Los Angeles branch and walked to the nearest subway station.

Not far away, he saw his boss.

Maynard had his own car, a plain black Chevrolet, and everyone in the office knew that.But he has been commuting alone, and there has never been a second person in the car. His private life is as clean as a blank sheet of paper. There have even been rumors that "Maynard Russell is an asexual".But this time, Tollin unexpectedly saw another side of Maynard's work.

An indifferent black-haired man was standing next to a black Porsche that did not belong to him, and the owner of the car, who was half-leaning on the car door and talking to him, was a strange blond man that Torin had never seen before.

Thorin only saw this scene from a distance, but then he shrugged his shoulders with a face of nothing to do with himself, and still walked towards his destination. "No superfluous interest" and "digging every detail" are unwritten creeds that they must abide by in this profession.

Theodore Lax was tall and strong, evidently well-exercised.The blond hair is trimmed very short, matching the sharp-edged facial features. Apart from his appearance, he is not full of personality, but the overall look and feel is very close to the stereotype of "individualistic heroes", just like the hard-core male protagonists in Hollywood blockbusters at the end of the last century.

Although he himself is not.

When Maynard looked at him, he couldn't tell whether it was a tense or steady expression, but there was a slight loosening of his expression, but what replaced it was not a relaxed smile or the joy of reunion after a long absence, but a subtle sense of distance.

"When did you come back?" He took out a cigarette, and Theodore handed over a lighter.The heavy metal shape and retro style are in line with the aesthetic taste that men of this age should have.

Theodore did not answer the question.

He just opened the door and made an inviting gesture. "We can have a few drinks," he said. "I remember I stored a few bottles of great red wine at your house."

After a few seconds of silence, Maynard extinguished the cigarette in his hand and sat in, closing the car door by himself.

"You haven't called me 'sir' for many years, Maynard." After the car door closed, Theodore's laughter was a bit dull.

Maynard just folded his arms to observe the traffic on the street and the crowd on the street, his eyes were calm and gloomy: "That's because you are no longer a faculty member of the FBI National Academy, Theodore; and I am not your student either."

Back in Los Angeles from Texas, it was business as usual.It didn't take long for Caroline to return to school, Moskevich had seamlessly integrated into normal city life, and Steven also started intensive work.

When Moskevich piled up a large pile of sample booklets sent by his friends in front of him, there was hardly any expression of guilt on his face. "Modern Urban Theory", "Chicago and the Chicago School in the Twentieth Century", "Falling and Falling - Talking about Social and Cultural Stigma"...and so on.The printed matter also smelled of "words" hoarded in cardboard boxes.

Moskevich, who was busy confirming the purchase list and expenditure accounts, froze for a moment, and soon showed a restrained and sharp smile: "I understand what you mean."

"You must be good at this," Steven said confidently.

"Yes, I'm very good at it, but that doesn't mean I have to do what you say." Moskevich shot back without hesitation.

Steven put on a heartbroken expression, and even a highly myopic person could understand the banter behind this exaggerated expression: "We have already agreed, you don't seem like someone who will go back on his word."

Moskevich sighed helplessly—but he didn't show weakness directly. "Okay, I will write. But there is one question: Shouldn't the reviews and analysis of these writings be done by professionals with certain status and qualifications - the point is not qualifications, but status. Although this is not a popular work , but academic stuff.”

Steven, who had already packed up his things and was about to go out, shrugged and responded: "The friend who gave me this job, his original words are as follows-the 'public' who care most about the name of the commenter, I am afraid they will not choose such obscure Boring words that are difficult to understand and can’t show that they are politically correct or love life. What’s more, they are not a magazine for the general public, and the articles probably only occupy a small area of ​​inconspicuousness.”

It is not difficult to chew on this self-deprecating sentence, but Moskevich chose to continue to defend his reputation: "Leaving aside status and reputation, my qualifications are first-rate." The humanoid product of science stubbornly insisted on this point.

A few steps away, Steven had already tucked his pistol under his coat—though it wasn't strictly necessary for the job at hand, he chose to keep both hands ready. "Your arrogance is as charming as your wit," he responded flirtatiously.

When he was about to leave, Moskevich stopped him.

"Steven," he said with a smile. "You are a terrible person."

The person who was directly criticized had no psychological burden at all, and even looked satisfied: "In the future, you will gradually realize how bad I can be." When he closed the door backwards, Steven even hummed a little tune, pretending not to Seeing Moskevich deliberately pushing the book aside, he reached out and took the remote control brazenly.

——Anyway, within a week, he will still write the manuscript on time.

Higgins' workplace is much like any other firm.It is not a spacious but clean and tidy reception space. Two rows of overcrowded bookshelves are full of legal documents or other heavy books that are not easy to arouse reading interest, as well as phones, computers and some documents on the desk.Steven noticed that Higgins was alone here—no assistants, no bosses, he was running everything on his own.

"Why is there no sign outside, I have confirmed the address several times." Steven pointed to the door.

Higgins, who sat across from him, looked quite young, but he obviously already possessed a stable enough temperament. The appearance commensurate with his age was just another element to reconcile with this maturity.He unwraps a box of treats—cookies that look sweet—and pushes it toward Steven, beckoning his guests to share. "Because it is no longer open for business, it is basically a private 'work base' for meeting regular customers."

Steven looked around, looked at the nine-light candlestick on the table by the wall, and frowned quickly: "My informant told me that you are from Germany."

"Yes. German-Jewish children to be precise—well, this symbolic union sounds romantic, doesn't it?" Higgins smiled veiledly.

Steven, who has always been indifferent to issues of religion and race, did not pursue further questions, but turned the topic to something he was more interested in: "He also told me that you have a job here. But to be honest, you don't look like you The type of dealing with dangerous people - for the record, I don't mean to be age biased against you."

"Although I have a legitimate law degree, it's just 'side money' to provide them with some professional help. My main income still comes from rent." Higgins said. "I did it because someone needed it. And it's a lot of fun."

If I have to say it, thanks to other people's foil, in Steven's opinion, Higgins, who wants to be a charterer more than a lawyer, is not necessarily a weirdo. "Sometimes I really don't understand the hobbies of you rich people." He smiled helplessly.

Higgins smiled shortly: "The salary of the FBI is not low, but you still choose to go through this muddy water." Seeing the other party's subtle expression, he walked to the desk and took out an envelope from the drawer And a key, and handed it to Steven: "Don't worry, I won't dig out the secrets behind you, just like you won't dig into me. However, I have a habit of first Confirm whether it is safe and reliable."

"What a coincidence, me too."

"So before formally contacting those dangerous people, I hope you can complete this personal commission from me."

Steven opened the envelope and found that it contained information materials from the same person. "—Elias Blowy?" He looked at the name on the material. "You want me to investigate him?"

Higgins nodded: "This is my new tenant. For safety reasons, I hope to confirm the authenticity of these materials and assess his danger by the way."

"You're making me wonder if your tenants are law-abiding citizens after all."

"Mostly yes," Higgins' blunt answer made Steven frown. "A small part needs to be verified urgently."

Steven sighed, secretly considering whether the deal was reasonable or credible.It's a bad experience to be misled by the proud intuition and judgment; when he gets involved in any trouble, he is not alone.

As if seeing through the other party's hesitation, Higgins added: "In the past, I have done these things by myself, and the process has been very smooth-after all, most people don't need to take risks, and I am also a law-abiding citizen who has no reason (say By this time, Steven even wanted to laugh.) This time because of other important matters. In short, I trust my own judgment, and I trust your ability, ex-agent."

"Okay, I'll take over the job." After resigning from the FBI, Steven finally accepted this troublesome job of dealing with intelligence. "Just in case, I'll ask again: Is this supposed to be safe?"

"Safety depends on your actions." Higgins gave an ambiguous answer.