Chapter 57 third chapter

Detective Story: The Long Farewell As soon as he walked into the office, I knew this case was unusual.He is so beautiful.I don't mean he's feminine, or effeminate like those supermodels on holograms, just...beautiful. He is not tall, about the same size as me, and I was born and raised in Lusus's 1.3 times gravity field.With a single glance, I could tell that this visitor wasn't from Luthers—his muscular figure was perfectly proportioned by Ring standards, and he looked not only fit but also lean.His face had a resolute lip-line—beautiful in profile, but a little stubborn.There is also a pair of big hazel eyes.He looked to be in his mid-twenties.

Of course, I didn't think much of it when he first walked in.My first reaction was, is he a client?The second reaction became: God, this guy is so beautiful. "Ms. Lamia?" "Ok." "Ms. Braun Lamia from the Internet Investigation Center?" "right." He looked around, seemingly in disbelief.I understand how he feels.My office is located on the twenty-third floor of an old industrial hive, in the old mines section of the Luthers Iron Hog ​​district.Three large windows faced the No. 9 maintenance ditch, which was always dark.Because of the large filter in the upper hive that keeps leaking, it always feels like rain to me.Most of the windows outside are abandoned autoloading docks, or rusted steel frames.

No matter how bad it looks, it's always a cheap place to be.My customers also call a lot, but there are only a small number of people who visit me. "May I sit down?" he asked, clearly satisfied that a real investigative agency could operate in such a slum. "Of course," I said, gesturing to the chair next to him, "You are..." "Johnny," he replied. He doesn't seem like the kind of character to be intimate with.He smelled of money, not because of the clothes he was wearing—the clothes were ordinary black and gray casual clothes, although the texture of the fabric was more refined—I just felt that this person came from the upper class.His accent is a bit peculiar.I'm good at distinguishing dialects, which is a professional requirement, but I can't confirm the origin of this guy, he probably isn't a local.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Johnny?" I held out my bottle of Scotch, which I was putting aside when he entered. The young man named Johnny shook his head.Maybe he thought I wanted him to drink straight from the bottle.Hell, I'm not such an uneducated person.There is a thick paper cup next to the cold water dendrobium. "Ms. Lamia," he began, his urbane accent still elusive to me, "I need a detective." "I am." He hesitated.Very wary.Many clients are hesitant when they talk to me about a case.No wonder, ninety-five percent of the cases I take on are divorce or family matters.I wait for him to make up his mind.

"This matter is quite confidential," he said at last. "Well, first of all... Ah Johnny, most of my cases are confidential matters. I have an agreement with Ring that all matters involving customers are handled under the Privacy Act. Everything is confidential, Including this one where we're meeting now. Even if you're not going to hire me, the laws of secrecy still apply." I'm basically bragging that the authorities can look at my papers at any time, but I feel like I'm going to let this People relax a little.God, he is so beautiful. "Okay," he replied, taking another look around, then leaning towards me, "Ms. Lamia, I want you to investigate a murder."

My concentration is back on.My feet were idly resting on the table; now I sat up and leaned forward. "Murder?! Are you sure it's murder? Have you called the police?" "It has nothing to do with the police." "Impossible," I said with a feeling of frustration again, thinking that this person is not a customer, but a complete lunatic. "It's a crime to hide a murder from the authorities." What I was really thinking was: Johnny, are you the murderer? He smiled and shook his head again. "This case is not." "what do you mean?"

"I mean, Ms. Lamia, this murder happened, but neither the local nor the overlord police knew about it, and they had no jurisdiction over it." "Impossible," I said again.Outside the window, the sparks from the industrial welding machine cascaded into the trench, and another rain of rust fell together. "Tell me." "This murder took place outside the Ring. Outside the Shelter. There is no ruler there." It sounds so reasonable.But as far as my own experience is concerned, I still can't imagine what he said.Even in remote settlements and the colonial world, there was a police presence.Could it be on some spaceship?No, no, there is a galaxy transport authority there, and they are in charge of that place.

"Got it," I said.I haven't had a case for weeks, "Okay, let's get into the details." "If you hadn't taken the case, would the conversation have been completely confidential?" "Absolutely confidential." "So, if you accept, will you only report to me?" "of course." My prospective client hesitates, fingers rubbing his chin.His hands also look elegant. "Okay." He finally made up his mind. "Start at the beginning," I said, "who was murdered?" Johnny sat up straight, like a schoolboy listening carefully.There is no doubt that his attitude is quite sincere.He said, "Me."

The story took ten minutes to tell.After listening to it, I no longer think he is a lunatic.But I myself, if I take this case, I'm afraid I will go crazy. Johnny's real name and surname are actually a long string of numbers, letters, and code sets, written down even longer than my arm.He is an intelligent biocontroller-cyber. I've heard of cyborgs.Who hasn't heard of it?I also accused my ex-husband of being one of them.But I never thought I'd actually be face to face with them, and a damn handsome cyborg. Jonny is artificial intelligence.His consciousness, or something like ego, floats somewhere in the data plane of the technical core Wanfang Data Network.Except probably the current CEO of the House of Representatives or the artificial intelligence garbage collector, no one knows what the core of technology is, and neither do I.AIs peacefully escaped human control three centuries ago, before I was born; they continue to serve the Overlord as allies, providing global advisory services, monitoring data networks, and occasionally using their predictive powers to help We avoid catastrophic mistakes or natural disasters, while the technical cores go about their own private business, which is hard to decipher and obviously has nothing to do with humans.

It also sounds fairer to me. Generally speaking, artificial intelligence interacts with humans and their machines through data networks.If necessary, they can also create interactive holograms - I remember that during the Maui combination, the messenger sent by the technology core when signing the covenant looked a lot like the pre-biscuit holographic star Dicheng Baswaite . The Cyborgs are another matter entirely.Custom-made from the human gene pool, they are very human-like in appearance and behave more humanly than robots.But the agreement between the technological core and the Overlord allows only a handful of Cybermen to exist.

I stare at Johnny.From an AI standpoint, this handsome body and charming personality sitting across the table is just as small as the thousands of sensors, consoles, robotics, or other remote-controlled objects he manipulates throughout the day. It may be a little more complicated, but it is not much more important than them.Throwing away a thing called "Johnny" is probably as harmless to other artificial intelligences as cutting off a piece of my fingernail. What a waste, I thought. "So you're a Cyberman." "Yes, I have a license, and a World Net user pass." "Well," I said to him, "that is, someone... murdered your cyborg form, and you want me to find him?" "No," said the young man.He has curly brown hair, which I can't understand as much as the accent, it's a bit of an old-fashioned hairstyle, but I feel deja vu, "It wasn't just this body that was murdered. The attacker murdered me, too." "you?" "right." "Your... ah... artificial intelligence... was murdered too?" "exactly." I could not understand.AI is impossible to die.At least as far as Ring Network knows, there is no precedent. "I don't understand," I said. Johnny nodded. "I think this...according to most people's thinking...it is different from the death of human beings. When a person dies, his personality will also be destroyed. But the individual consciousness of artificial intelligence will not end. However, because of being attacked, I... was interrupted. Although I had... uh... maybe a duplicate record of something like memory, personality, etc., I suffered a loss. Some data was destroyed in the attack. In that sense, indeed Murder together." "Understood," this is not true, I took a deep breath, "Since this kind of thing happened, why not go to the artificial intelligence authorities...or the overlord's cyber police? Aren't they in charge of these things?" "Because of some personal reasons," I looked at this attractive young man, trying to identify him as a Cyberman, "I can't turn to these institutions. This is very important and necessary." I raised my eyebrows.It sounds like he's a regular customer of mine. "I assure you," he continued, "there's nothing illegal about it. It's not about morality either. It's just . . . I find it hard to say." I folded my hands across my chest. "Look, Johnny. This story is wishful thinking. You say you're a cyborg, but you might as well be a storyteller." He seemed taken aback. "That didn't occur to me at all. How do you want me to identify myself?" I said without hesitation: "Transfer one million marks to my checking account on the Supernet." Johnny smiled.At this moment, my phone rang, and a figure with a vicissitudes of life appeared, with the code logo of the supernet floating behind him. "Excuse me, Ms. Lamia, we want to ask... well, now that you have such a huge amount in your account, would you like to invest in our long-term savings options or market trust funds?" "Wait." I replied. The bank manager nodded and disappeared. "It's clearly not a simulation," I said. Jonny's smile puts people in a good mood. "Yes, but even that is not a satisfactory proof, is it?" "Not quite." He shrugged. "Assuming I am who I say I am, would you take the case?" "Well," I sighed, "but there is one more thing. I don't get paid a million marks. Five hundred a day plus other expenses." The Cyberman in front of him nodded. "That means you agree to take over?" I stood up, put on my hat, and took an old coat from the hanger by the window.He bent down and touched the pistol in the bottom drawer of the desk, and stuffed it into his coat pocket smoothly.It was my father's pistol. "Let's go," I said. "I want to know where you were murdered."