Chapter 52: The Spherical Chicken in a Vacuum

“Spherical chicken in a vacuum?” Shen Jiang brushed the hair from the nape of her neck as the MEG-BCI system scanner slowly ascended. She rubbed her eyes hard. “Most of the plans we come up with are like that. They’ll tell you a certain condition only appears under the most ideal circumstances. If you ask what the ideal situation is, well, you have to wait until the chicken has pecked the last grain, the dog has licked the dough clean, the lamp has burned through the chain, and a Boltzmann brain spontaneously forms in the fish tank—only then do the ideal conditions exist.”

Shang Lu held a tablet and glanced at the time. “All the training exercises for today are complete, Supervisor. Shall we go for dinner?”

“Are you paying or am I?”

“You pay,” Shang Lu answered decisively.

“Where did you come from, you termite always gnawing at the foundations of socialism?” Shen Jiang frowned and pulled a chocolate bar from her pocket, tossing it to Shang Lu.

He unwrapped it. “It’s been in the pocket too long—it’s all soft and not tasty.”

“Eat it or give it back!” Shen Jiang turned to snatch the chocolate from his hand, but was too slow. Shang Lu had already bitten into it.

He offered the remaining half. “Give it back?”

The girl’s face went pale.

“Supervisor, one day soon, I’m going to screw you over.”

Inside Base 151, the tunnels twisted and branched endlessly. Shang Lu could never remember where the dark passages led, but Shen Jiang had a keen memory. From the electromagnetic shielding room to the base cafeteria, she could find seven different routes in seven days. Today, she was taking a new path, leading Shang Lu up a narrow vertical shaft, spiraling up the stairs.

Step by step, Shen Jiang climbed, Shang Lu following closely behind, his stature about a shoulder shorter. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the stairwell. The route was so remote that no one was coming or going. Looking up, the stairs piled layer upon layer, number unknown; looking down, the same endless tiers. Only dim incandescent lights fixed to the walls cast flickering shadows.

Their conversation was scattered and playful, as always.

“Up here is the 661 guiding tunnel. The exit is halfway up the mountain,” Shen Jiang said. “The MEG system has an upper limit. I’ve been sensing it over these many days.”

“Yes, the limit you perceive is the Rabin-Shang Wall,” Shang Lu nodded.

“Do you really have a way to break through it?”

“In my concept, it’s very difficult for a single brain to overcome the Rabin-Shang number wall,” Shang Lu explained. “It takes two brains.”

“Where do you find a pilot with two heads?”

“Supervisor, do you know what RCBI stands for? It’s the Research Center for Brain-like Intelligence. We have solid technical reserves in brain-inspired neural generation algorithms. To put it simply, we’re creating a tailor-made system—essentially, a cybernetic Shen Jiang. All its algorithms would adapt to your thought processes, and it would think the way you do. Then, Red Lotus would effectively have two brains.” Shang Lu added, “This level of integration surpasses even what cloning can achieve. Although our current technology is far from realizing this, it remains the ultimate goal for the MEG-BCI system’s development path.”

“That sounds like science fiction—not something achievable in 2016,” Shen Jiang replied. “Give you ten more years, and you might still fail. Another me? How about asking around? I’m the strongest computational pilot in the entire giant mech squadron, always ranked first overall.”

“Back in 2006, no one would have believed we could produce Red Lotus now,” Shang Lu said.

Shen Jiang paused, turning to look at Shang Lu with a strange expression.

“Supervisor,” Shang Lu confessed, “to be honest, I still can’t believe we actually made Red Lotus.”

Shang Lu’s foot paused on the stair. For half a second, both were silent. Then Shang Lu continued:

“When pushed to the edge… what can’t a desperate person achieve?”

Shen Jiang had always harbored concerns about the future of the MEG system, which was understandable. After all, MEG was a weapon that had to be reliable on the battlefield. In her view, the existing iEEG system was already mature enough. But Shang Lu’s mindset was broader—as a researcher, he looked further ahead. What would the future hold for the iEEG system as a technological path?

“What kind of future?” Shen Jiang asked.

“The iEEG will evolve to become deeper, more efficient, more integrated, and less human-like,” Shang Lu said. “The ultimate end of this path is to deeply deconstruct the various functional regions of the human brain—to remove the brain and install it as a component inside the giant mech’s body, forming a semi-biological, semi-electronic control core. This is called the ‘ex-vivo brain embedded operating system.’”

“Disgusting,” Shen Jiang said.

“You wouldn’t believe it, but this direction has many fans. A lot of people find this tech pretty thrilling,” Shang Lu said. “I get it—places like Science City… are full of psychologically twisted maniacs.”

The girl suddenly spun around and made a gun shape with her finger, pressing it against Shang Lu’s nose.

“If anyone dares to mess with my brain, I’ll blow their brains out!”

Her fierce demeanor towered over him. Shang Lu looked into her bright, sharp eyes and high-arched black eyebrows and had no doubt that, if someone really tried, she would draw her gun and reduce their brain to mush. Shen Jiang always meant what she said—especially with Red Lotus backing her up.

Suddenly, Shang Lu caught a faint, delicate fragrance—almost imperceptible, like dandelions in the breeze—and his gaze settled on Shen Jiang’s slender index finger.

She burst out laughing.

“Cross-eyed.”

She grabbed Shang Lu’s shoulder firmly and pulled him up. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

Emerging from the 661 guiding tunnel, the sun was nearly set, with only a thin streak of deep crimson lingering on the mountain’s far side. The exit was indeed midway up the slope—a seldom-used entrance less than a person’s height, hidden behind thick bushes and weeds. A rusted iron gate hung half-locked. Shen Jiang deftly removed the lock and pushed the gate open, leading Shang Lu through with a crouch into the evening breeze flowing over the hills.

From the outlet, they could see scattered lights at the mountain’s base—not the city of Chongqing itself, but various government agencies of Base 151 situated on the surface. The city lay behind them.

It was late autumn; the wind carried a slight chill. Shen Jiang leaned on the railing and asked Shang Lu:

“Supervisor, if you had to pick, which part of me do you think is most valuable?”

Shang Lu looked her over. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“The chocolate in your pocket.”

Shen Jiang laughed heartily, then gasped for breath between chuckles.

“Supervisor, if I die, I’ll have them give all my chocolate to you.”

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(Author’s note: Now, a friendly recommendation! I highly suggest checking out ‘Into the Unscientific’ by the angler next door. He’s on track to beat Wan Jun’s record, with guaranteed quality and timely updates!)