CAT Chapter 34: Second Law of Thermodynamics (3)

After a brief period of downtime, everyone returned to their tasks.

Su Ting rested for three days and also met with Lin Si.

Regarding the virus leak incident, they went over all the clues based on the timeline, but still found no answers.

Lin Si could confirm that there was no improper operation in the lab on that day, but he could also confirm that Yetheline was the first person to get infected.

However, Ye Selin hadn’t gone anywhere that could have exposed her to the virus—except for the Wilkins Lab. Unless someone deliberately released the virus onto Yetheline, there was no other explanation for what happened.

And  Ye Selin had only come into contact with Lin Si that day, which is why the woman from Zone Nine was so adamant in believing Lin Si was the mastermind behind it.

“Is there any other possibility?” Su Ting furrowed her brow. “Could it really have been an accident in the lab?”

—This was the only explanation. Somewhere in the lab, the virus leaked and was carried by  Ye Selin to the Voyager.

“If that’s the case, it could only mean that someone else in the lab precisely released the virus onto Ye Selin without my knowledge,” Lin Si narrowed his eyes, “because I wasn’t infected.”

“According to the woman from Zone 9, you’ve already mastered how to deal with the third-generation virus, so you wouldn’t have gotten infected,” Su Ting wrote and drew on a piece of paper, organizing her thoughts. “So, Lin Si, you see, all possibilities point to one conclusion—you’re the one orchestrating everything behind the scenes.”

Lin Si,”Mm.”

“If we speculate with malice, there are two possibilities. One is that someone is targeting you personally, but you’re still standing here fine. The other is that someone in the lab wants to get on the ship, has planned everything, and framed you for it.”

“All the lab members eventually chose to enter cryogenic sleep, and Adelaide has done psychological assessments for them, confirming they experienced extreme emotional trauma,” Lin Si shared his view on the speculation. “It’s rare for anyone to deceive Adelaide. I don’t think anyone in the lab has the potential to be a conspirator.”

“That’s true,” Su Ting nodded, her brows tightly knitted. “And if there was another person who did this, they would first need to know you could cure the virus in a very short time—at least within the time before everyone on the Voyager died. Who would have such confidence?”

They were stuck in a dead end, unable to make sense of any of the explanations.

The virus appeared like a ghost, with no trace or warning.

“Wait, Lin Si, there must be another direction—” Su Ting took several deep breaths, tugging at her hair, a small habit of hers when thinking deeply.

Lin Si watched her, also trying to recall.

What else could have gone wrong?

They were silent for a long, long time.

Suddenly, at some point, their eyes met.

“Lin Si…” Su Ting looked at him and saw the coldness in his eyes, as if they were covered in frost.

Lin Si stared back at her, seeing the growing fear in her eyes.

“I think of something,” Su Ting murmured.

“I do too,” Lin Si said. “Since  Ye Selin boarded the ship with you, why weren’t you infected?”

“In other words, Ye Selin got infected after I was frozen.” Su Ting froze for a moment, slowly surveying her surroundings as if the ghost were lurking nearby.

The mechanical walls were silver-white and cold, adorned with regular gray patterns. In the empty room, there was an eerie echo that sounded like the murmurs of a sorcerer.

“So the person who released the virus was already on this ship,” Lin Si said.

“Who was it?”

“Anyone still alive could be a suspect.”

“But what’s their motive?” Su Ting grabbed her hair. “What could their motive be?  Ye Selin has no enemies—none at all.”

“In the five years since I woke up, there have been several suspected human-caused accidents on the ship. The Marshal insists that there are one or more terrorists on the ship, people who hate the Voyager and are trying to destroy it,” Lin Si said nonchalantly. “Of course, he thinks it’s most likely me.”

Su Ting shook her head helplessly. “Lin Si, you really carry a lot of blame.”

“He’s too focused on me. Sometimes I even think it’s intentional,” Lin Si stood up and adjusted his clothes. “He might be hinting to the whole ship that he highly suspects me, hoping to relax the person’s vigilance so that they will slip up. It’s not impossible.”

“But the fact that this person has carried out so many actions without leaving a trace shows that they are not careless. This kind of strategy is too naive. So no matter what, I still think the Marshal has a problem with his mind.”

Since Lin Si wasn’t infected with the virus, he had no suspicion, and Su Ting finally relaxed, letting out a soft breath. “So, that person has been continuously targeting the Voyager and using you as a cover… Let’s wait for their next move.”

Lin Si nodded. Although he knew the chances were slim—there hadn’t been any incidents on the ship for three years, and with all the tight monitoring in place, it was nearly impossible for anyone to harm the ship.

After this incident, Su Ting’s condition improved a lot, and she began working on projects with Lin Si in Zone 5. The exoskeleton training hall was right next door, where Ling Yi was training—so the three of them often spent their break times together, sometimes with Zheng Shu and the Colonel.

Though it was called break time, it was really just—switching gears mentally.

Ling Yi, with an expression of complete indifference, was writing problems on Fourier transforms, while Lin Si read literature, Zheng Shu drew circuit diagrams, and Su Ting gently taught Ling Yi how to solve the problems.

The only one who seemed out of place was the Colonel, who was still playing Snake.

Zheng Shu couldn’t watch it anymore and pulled out an old single-player game disc he had prepared when he was raising Tang Ning, but since Tang Ning had no interest in these things, he had set it aside. He gave it to the Colonel.

The Colonel discovered a new world and finally stopped eating his snake’s tail every day, becoming obsessed with Assassin’s Creed—everyone else also gathered around to watch his gameplay—it was quite entertaining.

Ling Yi wanted to play too, but Lin Si wouldn’t let him.

At that moment, Lin Si sat leisurely between the Colonel and Ling Yi, guiding the Colonel on how to better complete the tasks. Clearly, it wasn’t the first time he’d encountered this game.

Ling Yi was very annoyed and almost wanted to bite him.

“Wait until you’re a bit older,” Su Ting said softly as she brought a cup of water, gently comforting him. “Parents are always like this. If  Ye Selin and Mr. Ling were here, they’d also be managing you.”

Ling Yi asked, “How long will I have to wait?”

“Until you’re an adult,” Lin Si quipped, “Then my guardianship will expire.”

Guardianship will expire! What does this mean?

Ling Yi became alert.

He immediately stopped worrying about not being allowed to play games and furrowed his brows. “So, you won’t take care of me anymore?”

“Mm… let me think,” Lin Si said slowly. “When I was 15, I started taking care of myself.”

“LingLing, I’ll get you a status, let’s go back to Zone 3, and not stay with him,” the Colonel added, eagerly stirring the pot.

“Then I can’t stay with you anymore?” Ling Yi looked at Lin Si.

“When you turn 18, you can apply for your own room. Technically, you wouldn’t have to live with me,” Lin Si crossed his arms and smirked. “But you’d still have the right to choose any room you want.”

“I don’t want to apply then.” Ling Yi thought for a moment.

“You still need to apply for one,” Lin Si said. “Otherwise, when you’re angry with me, are you going to sleep in the hallway?”

“Then I’ll sleep…” Ling Yi quickly thought about who he could share a room with. The Colonel wouldn’t work—he was too big. Tang Ning wouldn’t work either, he apparently types on his keyboard until dawn. Svenya or Su Ting? But it seemed he couldn’t sleep with girls.

He realized he didn’t actually have anywhere to go.

Lin Si chuckled and lifted his face.

Ling Yi had spent three years with him, but when counted carefully, it hadn’t been that long. After the base was established, most of the people from Zone 3 moved to the surface. The two hundred people from “Limitless” were among them, so sometimes Ling Yi would return only once every two or three months.

Every time he came back, at first everything was fine, but later, he’d become increasingly childish. Then he would leave, grow up a little, return…

Of course, every time he left, it was always unwillingly.

Time passed quickly, and just like that, three years had already gone by.

“You’ve grown up,” Lin Si said softly, “…Baobei.”

Ling Yi’s heart skipped a beat.

Many people called him “baobei,” but Lin Si rarely did.

However, every time Lin Si said it, his reaction was always particularly strong.

It was the kind of feeling where he wanted to be cherished and kept in his heart forever, never growing up.

He rubbed against Lin Si’s hand.

Lin Si said softly, “I won’t take care of you anymore, but do you still want to be with me?”

“I do,” Ling Yi lowered his eyes. “Do you want to continue being with me?”

Lin Si bumped his forehead against Ling Yi’s. “Then you can stay with me… hmm, just stay for now.”

“What if you bully me?”

“So apply for a room in Zone 3. If I bully you, just run back and wait for me to come comfort you,” Lin Si said.

Ling Yi blinked. “What if I bully you?”

“You?” Lin Si looked him over. “Do you think that’s possible?”

Ling Yi snorted.

Not now, but maybe when he grew up a little more, he could do it!

So he boldly said, “What if?”

Lin Si made an X with his arms. “Dissect.”

— Ling Yi’s confidence was instantly deflated.

They joked for a while longer before their break time ended, and Ling Yi separated from Lin Si.

Lin Si crossed his arms and watched Ling Yi’s figure.

Children grow up and gradually start leaving to live their own lives. He had known this for a long time, and logically, he should have accepted it by now.

But strangely, when faced with it, he still wished he could have one more day.

The busy days passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, another twenty days had gone by.

With Su Ting now on the team, the progress of the chip project had accelerated. When Lin Si sent a progress report to the Marshal, he was unexpectedly met with a reply, “Come to me.”

— On a spaceship where 3D video communication is always possible, unless it’s something especially important, face-to-face meetings are rarely chosen.

Lin Si thought for a moment and figured it was probably related to the issue Madam Chen had mentioned, so he went to Zone Three.

The Marshal still exuded the same imposing demeanor. To judge someone by appearance was at least somewhat effective. Anyone who saw his strong, muscular build, iron-gray beard, tough hair, and stern expression would immediately think of words like “tough,” “authoritative,” “stubborn,” and so on.

“I need to inform you of something,” the Marshal said bluntly.

“Please, go ahead.” Lin Si responded.

“I need you to add a function to the chip project’s final product.”

This was different from what Lin Si had expected.

“I’ve seen the exoskeletal effects, they’re very useful. With weapons equipped, the individual’s capabilities are comparable to a top-tier battle ship. Your modifications are impressive as well.”

Lin Si narrowed his eyes—The Marshal had never complimented him before.

Then the Marshal’s tone shifted. “But at the same time, their danger levels are very high. Zone 3 must implement corresponding measures to prevent them from abusing their enhanced strength.”

“What do you plan to do?” Lin Si asked.

The Marshal stared directly into Lin Si’s eyes. “I know that to prevent accidents, you’ve embedded a forced self-destruction system in those advanced AI programs. So, I plan to have the chip also include this function. Once someone shows dangerous intent, the chip will activate that function—such as releasing a high voltage or using other methods to quickly kill the person.”

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, Lin Si replied coldly, “Impossible.”

“I know you can do it.” The Marshal’s gaze was sharp and cold, exuding a strong sense of pressure. “This is just a small function.”

“We can do it, but I will never implement it.” Lin Si’s face was expressionless as he looked straight at Marshal Sius’. “They are enhanced bodies, yes, but they are first and foremost humans.”