SOTOPIA: Artificial Pseudo-God

"When questioning the witness, the other party explained to me the whole process of the escape." Steven flipped through the notebook in his hand and said.

——During the emergency transfer of the laboratory, the rest of the researchers and I took the penultimate van, and the last one was loaded with armed personnel. I don’t know whether they were left behind to process the data or were intercepted, and we never followed .

Earlier, when Moskevich narrated his personal experience, Steven had been carefully observing his expression to confirm whether there were some fake flaws hidden in it.

——At that time, the storm had already arrived, and the speed of the car could not be increased. We pulled a certain distance from the car in front.There were no other vehicles on the road.Before entering the bend, it seemed to hit a peg board or something, hit the curb, and two or three armed thugs immediately smashed the rear door with a battering hammer.It was too dark, and I couldn't see the opponent's situation at all, but they had obviously received military training, so it was not difficult to judge.Although I am just a pure layman.The two guards accompanying the vehicle immediately fired back, but only one of them was knocked down.

--and then?

——I sat in the front row and was blocked by the guard at the beginning.At first, the other party just threatened with a gun, but did not shoot. The researcher sitting next to me took advantage of the chaos and directly covered me with a white coat, probably to temporarily confuse my identity; then, he pushed me to the front seat, and the driver He easily pushed me out the window.I was running into the bushes by the side of the road when I heard the gunshots.Speaking of which, there were originally two ID cards of the original owner in that dress, but I was worried that these things would become hidden dangers, so I threw them away on the way.Afterwards, I ran down the road into the tunnel, and the rest is as you know.

Looking at Moskevich's calm expression of nervousness and his subconsciously clenched fists, Steven could roughly imagine the complicated mood of the other party.Even so, he still chose to ask ruthlessly: "Did you not plan to go back to confirm their lives and deaths? Under this kind of firepower, maybe they all escaped. Ah, if you consider yourself a victim of Sotopia, then Forget what I just said."

As if expecting the agent to ask such a question, Moskevich replied with a wry smile: "In that case, since they choose to let me escape, it means that I have the important value of living; if the attacker's target It's me, 'don't let them succeed', it is also a more reasonable decision, otherwise things will probably get worse."

Back to Steven's call with Maynard.

Steven recounted Moskevich's self-reported experience to his superiors with a serious expression, and asked questions: "Before this, I have not received any reports related to carjackings and shootings from any department in this area. Therefore, I apply for Use this incident as an extended pivot and a breakthrough in the Sotopia investigation."

There was a suspicious silence on the other end of the phone.

After more than ten seconds, Maynard responded: "This part is not in the scope of your responsibility. The headquarters will send another investigation team to follow up. You should also return to Los Angeles, and you have a new job."

Steven, who was vaguely aware of the strangeness, clenched the phone tightly, and lowered his voice subconsciously: "From the very beginning, I felt that something was wrong. Although this sudden situation does require urgent investigation, is the higher-ups too eager? And, obviously urgent Trying to control the relevant people, but the security of the hospital is loose as usual, I wonder if I am waiting for Sotopia's attack; there is no sensitivity to the investigation of the testimony-I should send the recording back in the afternoon Yes, but so far we have not received any feedback from the peripheral investigation, which is not as efficient as we should be. Maynard, according to the meaning above, what exactly should we find?"

Through the phone, he could almost hear Maynard's involuntary sigh: "Seeking the truth is an excellent instinct, but not everyone has the qualifications and ability to bear the truth. Your responsibilities and obligations are not directed at witnesses , but to the FBI."

"……I understand."

Maynard added a reminder: "Don't mess around."

Like a momentary auditory hallucination, in the reappearance of gunshots on a rainy night in his mind, Steven seemed to have returned to the Middle East battlefield nearly ten years ago.At that time, he was young enough and emotional enough that the cries of war orphans that could attract artillery fire at any time and the cold female corpses around young children would keep him awake at night in the camp.Before returning home, he deliberately visited the temporary cemetery in a corner of the town.The pool of blood had already condensed into black spots, but in the barren, rainless land, flesh and blood did not always grow flowers and trees.

Whether it is in a place where wars are burning or in a country where disputes are temporarily covered by relative peace, not everyone can easily and happily decide the course of their lives, and even the hope of spending the rest of their lives in peace may only be in the candlelight on Christmas Eve phantom.

"Elena!" Seeing the rare familiar face, the boy with naturally gray hair jumped excitedly in front of the glass wall of the laboratory, his pupils that were close to lead gray sparkled with joy.He is about eight years old, but he has to be accompanied by a large number of books that are not commensurate with his age. On the contrary, he has very little time for normal conversations with people, let alone playmates of the same age and ordinary teachers and friends.

"Good morning, my child." The woman dressed as a researcher did not wear a mask like her colleagues.She looked about 30 years old, and the corners of her eyes behind the glasses were prematurely creased.Except for the identity badge of Sotopia's chief researcher assistant and the white coat that is standard in the research institute and experimental base, she looks exactly like any ordinary mother outside the laboratory.

"Irina, you haven't seen me for a long time." As soon as Irina entered the laboratory, the boy ran to her side, with joy and coquettish complaints written on his small face at the same time.

Elena smiled and touched his head, the hair was as soft as a well-cared for cub. "I'm sorry, I will be very busy in the next period of time. But I will always pay attention to you, don't worry, my child."

At that time, Subject No. 71 hadn't learned to hide his inner fluctuations, and everything was written on his face, just like stacks of scientific textbooks beside him that clearly showed the process and results.

After confirming the boy's reading status and knowledge reserves through an hour-long question and answer session, Elena put the densely packed recording papers in the folder and put them aside, watching the little boy sitting on the opposite chair with a kind, almost sad smile. .He swayed his legs lightly, as if he was completely ignorant of the cruel facts behind the experiment, like any lively and noisy kid of the same age outside the laboratory.

"Isn't it a bit superficial to say 'freedom' now... Do you want to go outside? It's something you can read in books but not here." Considering how much the other party can understand, Elaine Na asked cautiously.

"I don't want to." The boy's answer was a bit surprising.On the contrary, he asked with an inexplicable expression: "Since I know it from the book, wouldn't it take more time to read it again, and it doesn't feel fresh at all. Besides, I won't go out..."

Elena smiled helplessly.She reached out and gently stroked the top of the boy's head, like a young mother singing a lullaby to a newborn child. "It's not like that," she said softly. "There's an irreconcilable gap between the two."

The boy tilted his head in doubt, and murmured: "I don't quite understand..."

"I'll bring you some literature next time, and a primer on social science for your age."

"Is it fairy tales and historical stories again?"

"Don't look bored. It's not a good thing to expose all the thoughts in your heart." Irina held the boy's soft cheeks in both hands. The touch of the child's skin is not difficult to remind people of the throbbing life itself. "Son, let me teach you one more thing: Although people need to abide by the creed of honesty, it is okay to choose to pretend when necessary. This is a kind of self-protection."

"But wouldn't that be a lie?"

"'Telling lies' is just one of the inferior methods. In addition, 'don't tell' or 'only say a part', 'only say what the other party wants to know', 'show a willingness to cooperate', these It's all possible."

This is not an easy thing to understand.The eight-year-old boy seemed to understand half-understood, but he firmly nodded his head to apply what he had learned.

"I'm sure you'll do well...my boy."

Nearly 20 years later, in the summer of 2009, the 27-year-old Moskevich sat on the hospital bed, waiting for the ambulance to be transferred, the government staff contacted, and the once distant and strange world to him.

"Elena," he said softly, looking at the still heavy clouds outside the window. "I'm finally 'outside'."