Ch.163023rd Work Record – About the Flame (4)

After coming up empty-handed at Coco’s, I leave her house, entrusting the information gathering to Kay. In the end, there were hints everywhere, but nothing tangible to grasp.

I had to wait for information about Prometheus. If I rushed Ms. Mila, her parent-like AI would inevitably become suspicious, asking, “Why are you in such a hurry to organize things?”

I’d already left the transparent eyes and Panacea Meditech data leak to Kay, so now there was only one thing I could do—something I enjoyed most. I turned on my computation assist device.

I pressed Eve’s contact among my saved nightshift colleagues’ contacts and connected. The call connected quickly. Her voice was comforting.

“Good morning, Arthur. You do remember when holidays are, right? I hope you’re not calling to ask ‘Why is nobody at the office?’ I’d be worried.”

“Luckily, I heard from Chance first, just in time. Do you have any plans today? If not, I’ll come over. It’s been a while.”

“I should tell Chance to scold you more. And… yes, I don’t have anything planned today. Shall we spend it doing nothing worthwhile? It’s been a while.”

During my two weeks in Detroit, we’d only spoken over calls, and unfortunately, the day I returned happened to be a Friday, forcing me to work for another week. So indeed, it had been a while.

Chance automatically entered the location of Eve’s hideout in the coastal ruins into my bike’s navigation. After checking the battery level of my bike parked in front of my now-quiet apartment building, I mounted it and started riding.

The air is still hazy enough to scatter sunlight. The sea remains black today. Most of the water-purifying plankton have suffocated to death, while the survivors multiply and continue their purification work.

What they do is just one link in a chain. They consume the biochemical weapons from the war era that spread throughout the sea and reprocess them into substances that are easier to purify.

No matter how hard these plankton work, the sea never becomes clean. But without them, the sea could never be cleaned. They probably don’t understand the significance of their link in the chain.

Still, just by living and dying this way, they earn their place among the heroes who purified the Pacific. A life of indifference yet kindness—the exact opposite of human life.

We, created without purpose, had to find meaning for ourselves. It doesn’t matter what. Just find something valuable to you. What I value is pleasure.

Living a life I can enjoy, destroying Hollowed Creek—which threatens Eve, who makes each piece of my life enjoyable—leaving no stone unturned, and putting a harpoon through their leader.

The flesh of the whale called god will taste sweet. I remember dipping my finger into the sugar jar of revenge, tasting its sweetness spreading throughout my mouth. I won’t forget that sweetness.

I won’t need to do it alone. In Detroit, I saw where self-righteousness leads people. I witnessed firsthand someone dying under the weight of responsibility. I won’t forget.

Meeting more people, learning more things, watching more idols fall… Once my overall lack of ability is resolved, I’ll gladly go to Hollowed Creek.

Not as some cheap revolutionary terrorist who believes violence solves problems, but in the name of Belwether, which will come to see Hollowed Creek as a thorn in its side.

Getting approval from Belwether’s board, convincing Market Keepers that Hollowed Creek’s inefficiency affects external operations… I could imagine many possibilities, but I decided to stop daydreaming.

Right now, I’m just a freelancer. A freelancer can only do what a freelancer can do. The ruins are getting closer. It’s a gloomy area, but livable enough.

After arriving at Eve’s hideout, I wave back to her as she waves from a second-floor window, then open the door and enter. It seems no other escapees are staying here at the moment.

As I climb the stairs of what was once—and structurally still is—a luxurious villa, I feel someone’s gaze upon me before I reach the top, as if they couldn’t wait for me to finish climbing.

Enjoying that gaze, I continue up, then bury my face between the open arms of Eve, who came to greet me at the top of the stairs, and lift her by the waist. As always, she feels light.

It takes about three seconds for her to adjust to being lifted, initially fluttering her legs in surprise before pretending it’s no big deal. Her hand reaches out to ruffle my hair.

“So, how many lovers did you make during your two weeks in Detroit? I wouldn’t be surprised if you made about ten.”

Though her tone suggested it was just a mischievous joke, I could see bits of sincerity scattered throughout her words, which made me laugh a little.

“Unlike some people, I only date my work when I’m not with you. To handle both security shifts and dating, what’s PostHuman Type 4? Even Type 40 wouldn’t be enough. Though honestly, even Type 400 wouldn’t make me do that.”

With those words, I pretended to drop her waist before catching her again. Eve, who had been glaring at me with an expression mixed with just a spoonful of sincerity, let out a short, thin scream of surprise and wrapped her arms around my neck.

Only after realizing it was a joke did she give me a properly fierce look, her face flushing. The arms around my neck loosened, and her index finger poked the tip of my nose.

“Your answer passes, but teasing me fails. Absolutely. And break up with work too. You’re a complete workaholic. When I call you, it’s always one of three scenarios.”

“Either I’m preparing for work, currently working, or just finished working?”

“Yes, that. A twenty-three-year-old doesn’t need to live so busily. I wish you’d rest without taking jobs on your days off.”

Whether I was a bioengineered enhanced human or superhuman, I looked no different in Eve’s eyes. I still had to wear a helmet when riding the bike with her, and working more than eight hours a day was considered overwork.

“I have so many things I want to do. I want to get re-approval for freelance contracts from more companies, resolve this overall lack of ability I’m experiencing, and solve the Creek problem.”

“You’ve said this before. But I think you’re good enough without becoming that extraordinary. Not an industry legend… just an ordinary freelancer who was once the industry’s rising star.”

Her worried voice tasted sweet. It was probably true. A decent life would be waiting for me even if I did nothing special. That’s how a freelancer’s life works.

But that wasn’t enough for me. I felt hungry and thirsty. I didn’t want to draw the final mark on the speedometer. I nodded quietly.

“I feel the same way. Industry legend status, freelance contract rights… even this PostHuman Type IV I’m wearing isn’t really necessary. I’m living a satisfying life without those things adding anything.”

Telling someone helps me strengthen my resolve. Especially if that person is Eve. Trying to maintain a serious expression, I continued:

“But Hollowed Creek is trying to take away a big piece of my satisfying life. If they had decided to let Eve go, I would have left them alone, but they didn’t.”

Eve’s fingertips touched the corners of my eyes again. The smooth, soft tips of her prosthetic thumbs rubbed around my eyes.

“Those scary eyes again. This won’t do. If I’m not by your side when you solve the Hollowed Creek problem… how should I put it? I think you’ll drift too far from being human. I need to hold onto you tightly.”

At those words, I raised my fingertips to touch my eyes. There was nothing special about them. Just my ordinary eyes. Still, I smiled at Eve’s words and replied:

“Unlike some people, I don’t have a hobby of being worshipped. And I don’t want to take over from Hollowed Creek’s leader.”

“Say that after you’ve brought down Hollowed Creek with the righteous purpose of saving people suffering from fanaticism. The Creek fanatics would immediately start praying in your name instead of their leader’s.”

I tried to imagine it briefly, but it was such a chilling scene that I stopped. It was disturbingly easy to imagine a scene where only the leash changes while the dog remains the same.

“So, Arthur. You can go as fast as you want, but make sure to leave enough fuel to return. You can grasp anything you want, but promise to let go willingly when it’s time. Can you do that?”

In that moment, I realized I had a place to return to. A place where I’d be welcomed even if I came back empty-handed. She pulled my neck close again, resting her chin on my shoulder and pressing her cheek against mine.

After fully feeling her heartbeat, body temperature, and the softness of her skin, I nodded. Whatever I might grasp while working in the future, it wouldn’t be as valuable as this moment.

“I can. I’m not stupid enough to give up a holiday morning for things that might not even matter.”

“Good, then… I’ve been thinking too much. I’ve prepared lots of good movies, so let’s just idle away the time doing nothing worthwhile. Sound good?”

I shrugged. I’d never really disagreed with Eve’s opinions. This long-awaited holiday could indeed be spent just idling around. Talent & Tradition Inc. makes good movies.

After the war, when only artistic films about war, reflection, and countless similar themes were called “movies,” the entertainment industry whale was born when it took control and revived commercial films.

Since drone deliveries don’t reach the ruins, we went into town together for lunch. After returning, I carried Eve and jumped up to the villa’s third floor, which was inaccessible due to collapsed stairs.

From what was once a bedroom with a great view on the third floor, all we could see now was the blackened, rotting sea. The cracked windows let in the sea breeze.

It’s not a great hiding place. Though the structure was sturdy enough to withstand partial collapse… it was still an unsettling building.

Night falls as we explore the house with these idle thoughts. Eve, who had been watching the virtual screen beside me, started swaying slightly before completely resting her head on my shoulder.

After gently laying her down on the bed, as I was about to lie down beside her, Chance’s distinctive profile picture—a star-spangled banner with sixty-one stars—appeared in my vision. I kept my voice in my head so as not to wake Eve.

‘What is it, Chance? Did something happen at home?’

“Negative. I have something I want to say. Is that okay?”

‘Of course. Your words are always helpful, Chance.’

I pulled myself up a bit, leaning against the headboard of the wide bed while gently stroking Eve’s sleeping head. Chance spoke in a somewhat human-like voice.

“I am looking for the appropriate expression. Searching. Found it. Do you remember the story of Vesta’s priests?”

‘I remember. Last time when I asked if you see people today as abandoned children by the water, you said they’re like Vesta’s priestesses guarding the fire. Why?’

The fire guarded by Vesta’s priestesses is different from the fire Prometheus wants to give. Though I wasn’t very familiar with metaphors, neither was Chance, so I decided to listen with an open mind.

“In this AI’s judgment, this is the flame that Vesta’s priests guard. In short, Vesta’s flame is a human-like life. This is the conclusion after observing you since receiving information about Prometheus.”

‘That seems quite metaphysical for you… though you are an AI that talks about mind-body dualism. What do you mean by a human-like life?’

“Struggling to achieve dreams, putting heads together to solve problems, loving, and idling away with seemingly meaningless actions—all these are no different from before the war.”

Things must have been the same in the world before the war. The only difference would have been that administrative entities were above economic entities. It’s hard to imagine, despite having studied nationalists.

“I judge that Prometheus’s fire is not necessary to maintain such a life. The technology used in strategic weapons during the war era is merely an unnecessary addition to Vesta’s flame.”

‘It seems you haven’t reached a sufficient conclusion yet, Chance.’

“Affirmative. The conclusion is this: Whatever Prometheus’s fire is, it must not be given to the nationalists. It will surely damage the lives of people that have been preserved like Vesta’s sacred flame.”

I imagine weapons of unimaginable power raining down on Belwether headquarters or Los Angeles. It would be a terrible sight… but something similar comes to mind. When it was in Belwether’s hands.

No matter how much one hates nationalists and that war, it’s hard to deny that in this high-speed era, Belwether most resembles the nationalists.

Just as they boldly reverse-engineered Chance, if they reverse-engineered that weapon, it’s obvious where the barrel would point. I don’t trust Belwether. I only trust what Belwether believes in.

‘It shouldn’t go to Belwether either. You’ve seen Mr. Gunter. He certainly has charisma that can sway people, and he’s definitely a good person… but everything he creates is forged from hatred toward nationalists.’

“Affirmative. It should not be given to either side. Hoping they can do productive things with Prometheus’s fire is an insult to the ten billion lives lost in that war.”

Chance had a somewhat excessively pessimistic side, but right now, Chance’s words were the best option. It shouldn’t be given to either side. If we find Prometheus, we must destroy it.

‘That’s a fact I already share. Why are you emphasizing it so much?’

“Because… I believe you would attempt to dialogue with Prometheus. Dialogue is not an option. It must be unconditionally destroyed. The traces of the extinction war must be erased.”

If it were truly an AI working to let nationalists rule the world again, I would destroy it without needing to talk, but Chance’s demeanor made me consider a second possibility.

Chance had a personality. Serious and gentle. Deeply responsible with a touch of humor. Prometheus could also be an AI with some kind of personality.

While I was firm about rejecting Prometheus’s fire, Chance’s reaction to Prometheus seemed closer to PTSD than healthy skepticism.