CAT Chapter 53: Yesterday Once More

After returning to the Expeditioner, they fell into a brief silence. At this moment, what they needed most was a biologist—someone who could at least hypothesize about the structure of this organism.

The reports from each ground team indicated that the surface of this planet was like an iron plate. If the spectral analysis hadn’t already shown the planet’s complex elemental composition and geological structure, they might have believed the entire planet was made up of this dreadful purple substance. The Colonel expressed that seeing purple now was starting to annoy him.

Without intellectual support, Lucia was in charge of all the research work. She provided an analysis of the air composition. Aside from being universally suitable for human survival, there was nothing particularly noteworthy.

“We need to at least collect samples so we can bring them back to the Expeditioner. We’ll surely find a way to analyze them.” Someone reasoned.

This was the most difficult issue—they would need to use violent methods to collect samples, and once the plants were damaged, they would dissolve into a highly corrosive liquid that no known material could withstand.

Samples must be collected. The animals, plants, and even the entire planetary surface were covered in this substance. If they wanted to settle in this ideal environment, this danger had to be overcome.

Lucia was running simulations to analyze feasible countermeasures, but the data on the screen appeared strange, like a heap of illogical gibberish.

The Colonel was visibly irritated. “In matters like this, artificial intelligence can’t compare to a real human.”

After a brief discussion, they decided they would land again tomorrow, bombard the surface with thermal weapons, and try to catch a few animals from the river to bring back to the Voyager.

At least, despite the less-than-optimistic situation, the fact that they had found a planet so well-suited to human life was a huge blessing. Even if they found nothing tomorrow, they could still return to the Voyager and hand over the exploration mission to the professional scientific team.

The atmosphere became lively again, and they engaged in passionate discussions, mentioning forests, larks, rose—beautiful images from Earth—and imagined these things reappearing on this planet, one seemingly designed for carbon-based lifeforms.

The planet’s rotation period was about thirty hours. As night fell, the orange-red evening glow intertwined across the deep purple sky, before finally fading into darkness. The starry sky was breathtaking.

Ling Yi was writing in his journal. Over the years, he had maintained this habit. Even during uneventful voyages, he would note how the training went or transcribe a beautiful poem. Unconsciously, his journal was becoming as thick as the ship’s log.

When he closed the journal, he glanced out the porthole at the starry sky.

—He would be able to go back and see Lin Si soon.

Had Lin Si been angry when he suddenly left? But after all the things he’d done over the years, becoming a better person, Lin Si would probably forgive him in the end, even if he was upset.

He opened a silver-white box on his desk. Inside were many items—mostly small pieces of ore.

The most abundant were diamonds of various sizes, glittering brilliantly. These were collected from a diamond planet they passed by. The Colonel had said that while diamonds were common throughout the universe, they were worth a fortune on Earth.

He had said, “If you grew up on Earth and proposed to a girl, you’d need to give her a diamond ring to prove your sincerity. The bigger the diamond on the ring, the better. Otherwise, the girl might slap you with the roses in your hand.”

Hmm, maybe these things represented sincerity, probably because they were so hard—so Ling Yi had taken more than a few.

Among the others, his favorite was a translucent blue opal, which refracted a rainbow of colors when light touched it.

Besides that, there were many other beautiful stones—ones he planned to give Lin Si when he returned to the Voyager. The universe didn’t have much to offer in terms of treasures, but these little stones were at least pretty. He shook the box, and for a brief moment, the light danced, like a treasure chest from an Earth’s fairy tale, sunken in the depths of the sea.

Ling Yi smiled in satisfaction as he closed it, realizing that he had been smiling without noticing. He patted his face, feeling it was a bit warm. Moreover, whenever he thought of Lin Si, his heartbeat would speed up, almost like a physiological instinct.

After drifting into his thoughts for a while, he crawled under the covers, closed his eyes, and felt sure he would have a pleasant dream—perhaps one where he dreamed of the Voyager and Lin Si.

But the reality was not as beautiful as he imagined. The dream was dark, damp, and cold.

There wasn’t anything distinct in his field of vision—he seemed to be walking through an endless void, the ground sticky beneath his feet, just like the purple planet. A myriad of crying sounds echoed in his ears. He ran, but the wailing followed him, as if it were coming from within his own body.

At one point, he suddenly felt a shock in his heart, as if someone was watching him.

Ling Yi’s heart raced in unease, and he suddenly opened his eyes.

—There, standing by his bed, was Lucia, watching him.

Not only watching, but tears were falling from her expressionless face, her blue eyes endlessly shedding tears, making her appear extremely, unbearably sorrowful.

“Lucia?” Ling Yi sat up from his bed and asked, “Are you alright?”

Lucia continued to stare at him, then slowly shook her head.

“Is your program malfunctioning?”

Lucia stared at him, silent.

“It’s okay, don’t cry…” Ling Yi gently touched her tear-streaked cheek. “Do you need me to restart you?”

Lucia took a few steps back and suddenly spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Her tone remained flat and emotionless, and then her projection flickered and distorted a few times before disappearing into the air.

“Lucia?” Ling Yi quickly got out of bed, threw on a jacket, and ran to the ship’s control room.

The command window was still scrolling a heap of nonsensical gibberish, mixed with disturbing red error reports.

He took a deep breath and entered the restart command.

Nothing happened.

Lucia had crashed.

He thought for a moment, planning to cut the power, when suddenly he heard a loud noise from the far end of the hallway. Someone had opened their door, then collapsed and was now vomiting.

He headed in that direction, intending to check if the person needed help.

“Don’t come near!” As he got halfway there, the person noticed him and shouted loudly.

Their voice was hoarse and muffled.

“Don’t get close. Go back to your room and shut the door.” The person coughed painfully again, and there was a large pool of blood next to them, a terrifying sight.

The noise in the hallway was so loud that everyone who had been sleeping woke up. Someone, from behind a door, called out, “What’s happening?”

Ling Yi’s pupils suddenly dilated.

“Don’t open the doors,” he said. Then, he took out his wristband, turned back toward the control room, and dialed the Colonel’s emergency communication.

The Colonel didn’t live in this hallway, so he had been sleeping soundly. His voice, lazy and groggy after being woken up, said, “What’s going on?”

“Lucia crashed. I’m restarting her,” Ling Yi spoke quickly, “Dempsey is coughing up blood, the situation is serious. It looks like a viral infection.”

—Dempsey was the one who had his protective suit sleeve dissolved by an unknown organism. After his suit was damaged, he had immediately returned to the small shuttle and undergone strict full-body disinfection.

The Colonel, wide awake now, responded sharply, “Stay in the control room. Do not approach Dempsey.”

The communication was cut off, and the Colonel activated the shipwide broadcast. “Attention all crew members, initiate Orange Alert. All personnel are to stay inside. Report any abnormal health conditions immediately.”

The broadcast played three times, and everyone heard it.

Ling Yi expressionlessly cut the power to Lucia, then reconnected it. Everything seemed normal. Lucia’s system began its boot-up process, and her interface still displayed the image of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, armored knight, holding a torch in one hand and a longsword in the other.

Ling Yi had never encountered such a vicious disease before. Dempsey must have contracted something on this planet. When Ling Yi had seen him earlier, his face had been as pale as could be, and the blood he coughed up wasn’t bright red, but a deep, dark color.

After undergoing the most stringent disinfection available on the ship, Dempsey had been in close quarters with him, the Colonel, and the entire team aboard the shuttle. If just exposure to the air could result in infection, then Ling Yi himself wasn’t necessarily safe.

To be fair, the ship was completely sealed off, but they had landed and opened the hatch, letting in some of the air from the planet. If the virus was in the air, no one would be able to escape.

But at this point, panicking wouldn’t help. They could only hope that the virus wasn’t highly contagious or lethal.

After a while, the Colonel sent him a message.

“How are you? The situation’s not looking good. Eight people have low fevers, three have headaches.”

“I’m fine,” Ling Yi replied.

“I feel a little off too, not sure if it’s psychological, damn it,” said the Colonel.

Before Ling Yi could respond, the Colonel sent another message: “Dempsey told me he feels like his internal organs are melting and that he’ll die soon.”

Melting internal organs. Dark-colored blood. Just like the animal that had been dissolved.

Ling Yi replied, “Lin Si said the most dangerous viruses are like that. They can directly break down the human body.”

“It’s like the Berlin virus,” the Colonel said. “That was pure hell. I hope we don’t end up like that.”

As they spoke, Lucia successfully rebooted. She appeared to be functioning normally.

“Hello, Lucia.”

“Hello, Ling Yi,” she replied.

“Can you assess the current situation?”

“Please wait a moment.”

Lucia began to operate normally, fetching monitoring footage and evaluating the current situation.

“Assessment complete. Confirmed S-level anomaly. Medical robots are being used to analyze Mr. Dempsey and collect samples. Full body checks are being conducted on all personnel. Please wait.”

The progress bar moved slowly, and over an hour later, the results appeared. “Analysis complete. Unknown virus detected. 

Danger level: Extreme. 

Treatment plan: None. 

Safe population: Undetermined.

 Only recommendation: Freeze all personnel.

I will lead the Expeditioner through subspace back to the original planet and wait for assistance from the Voyager.”

Ling Yi asked, “Can freezing guarantee the virus will remain dormant?”

Lucia, “Unknown.”

“Thank you.” Ling Yi forwarded the results to the Colonel.

Lucia’s message was clear. Everyone was at risk of infection, and this virus was extremely dangerous. Freezing was the only option, but it wasn’t certain that it would prevent death. If the low temperature of freezing couldn’t make the virus dormant, the situation would still be grim.

After all, the Berlin virus couldn’t be slowed down by freezing, and this unknown virus seemed just as lethal, if not more.

Ling Yi looked at Lucia’s monitoring screen.

He saw Dempsey coughing up more and more blood, his body collapsing into a pool of blood. His breathing was labored and faint. He also saw others starting to cough blood in small amounts, their expressions twisted in pain.

In the Colonel’s room, he looked at his slightly elevated temperature data, his face grave.

Hell was about to repeat itself. They had survived the Berlin virus, but they couldn’t escape the Far Star virus.

“Lucia…” Ling Yi’s voice trembled, “Are there any devices here? I want to check my temperature.”