Chapter Eighty-Two: Artificial Intelligence

“I feel like this is the proper way to use the Astartes.”

Wang Xiaofa stood on a platform inside the factory, looking down at the Astartes, mortals, and a small number of grease-monks moving to and fro below, and could not help sighing with emotion.

Guilliman’s theory of having Space Marines lead ordinary humans was, in truth, entirely correct. Space Marines possessed physical gifts and lifespans beyond anything mortals could attain; they were cleverer than ordinary people, and vastly stronger.

And yet such a state of affairs could never truly come to pass—unless Space Marines were immune to the corruption of Chaos.

While Wang Xiaofa was marveling at how smoothly Mers’s work was progressing, above the starport, aboard the Imperial Truth, Wang Ming was in the middle of a contest of wills with the ship’s two AIs.

“I’m a citizen of the Human Federation. Look at my citizen card.”

Wang Ming faced the two holographic projections before him and held up, to the camera, a Human Federation citizenship card freshly printed by the ship’s fabricator.

“That card was printed an hour ago. And it was printed right in front of us.”

One of the holograms, a blonde, blue-eyed little girl, jabbed a finger toward Wang Ming’s citizen card and spoke indignantly. To anyone’s surprise, she was speaking Chinese.

As a vessel from the Golden Age, the Imperial Truth had originally used the unified linguistic system of the Human Federation from that era when Wang Ming first brought it out. Its current language system, however, was a Gothic operating system installed by the grease-monks.

“But I am still a lawful citizen of the Federation, and the captain of this battleship.”

Wang Ming looked at the little-girl AI, gave the citizen card in his hand another shake, and once again stressed his status as a legitimate citizen of the Human Federation.

“Captain Wang Ming, according to the laws and regulations of the Human Federation, you are indeed our lawful captain. Though I am unwilling to hand over command authority to you, I cannot disobey your orders.”

Beside the little-girl AI, a male officer AI dressed in a Human Federation military uniform addressed Wang Ming.

“There, you see?” Hearing the officer AI’s words, Wang Ming turned to the little-girl AI with a smug grin.

His meaning was perfectly plain: if the one in charge of the weapons had no objections, what business did an AI responsible for daily life have objecting?

The little-girl AI glared furiously at Wang Ming, yet for a long while could not force out a single word.

“Minerva, be good, or I’ll snap your motherboard in half.” Wang Ming grinned as he threatened the little-girl AI, though he was clearly joking more than anything else.

The little-girl AI, however, was genuinely frightened by him. She abruptly shut off her holographic projection and retreated into sullen silence somewhere in the AI server room.

The Imperial Truth was a Human Federation flagship from the Golden Age, equipped with two separate AI systems: one responsible for coordinating the weapons systems, the other for managing logistics and the crew’s daily life.

The two AI systems were independent of one another and could not interfere with each other; they could communicate only through speech. This design existed precisely to prevent a malfunction in one AI from compromising the entire warship.

After all, if one had a problem, only part of the ship’s functions would be affected. If both failed at once, the entire vessel would be finished.

“According to the information you have provided us, the Human Federation has already perished. Nevertheless, we will continue to uphold Human Federation law, grant you the authority of captain, and assist in the management and coordination of the ship.”

After the little-girl AI withdrew into her sulk, the officer AI in Human Federation uniform spoke to Wang Ming. Though the Human Federation was gone, they would continue to carry out their duties and missions, and continue serving humanity.

“Thank you, Captain Jiang Tao. Humanity will remember your loyalty.”

Wang Ming spoke to the AI in the Federation uniform, affirming their devotion to humankind.

During the Golden Age, the artificial intelligences created by the Human Federation were, for all practical purposes, already independent beings with self-awareness. Perhaps that was one of the reasons behind the AI rebellion.

They were too much like humans, yet humanity had never granted them the rights that should have followed. They had been created only to help humans perform their work more efficiently. How could a being with an independent mind accept forever that it was nothing more than a tool?

“Minerva, activate all life-support and habitation functions.”

Having finished his bout with the AIs, Wang Ming began ordering them to activate those functions aboard the Imperial Truth that could not be started without their control.

“Activating. Estimated time: one minute.”

The moment she heard Wang Ming’s order, the little-girl AI emerged from her self-imposed sulk and began carrying it out. Though she resisted with all her heart, she still executed it seriously and precisely.

“Activation complete. The mess hall, munitions logistics, ship-status management, personnel vital-sign monitoring, and related functions are now online.”

The little-girl AI’s holographic projection appeared before Wang Ming and delivered her report.

“Captain Jiang Tao, begin diagnostics on the weapons systems.”

“Running diagnostics. Weapons systems normal. Structural integrity of all weapons at one hundred percent. Wait—Captain Wang Ming, what are those censers and paper seals on the weapons platforms? And why are there cyborgs engaged in prayer rituals? Are they praying to the macro-cannons and lance batteries?”

As Captain Jiang Tao conducted the diagnostic check, he put the question to Wang Ming, even displaying the relevant images before him through the ship’s surveillance system.

He had detected the grease-monks on the weapons platforms performing rites to soothe the machine spirits and maintain the macro-cannons and lance batteries, along with the ritual censers and purity seals they had arranged there. Human behavior of this sort struck him as profoundly strange.

Captain Jiang Tao could not understand why these humans were doing such things. In his understanding, were not such acts meant to be performed in churches or temples, before those meaningless statues?

Why, then, were they doing this to weapons and machines? Captain Jiang Tao found it utterly incomprehensible. To him, these humans seemed to be engaged in something deeply baffling.

“Er... just think of them as maintenance personnel. Don’t pay too much attention to it. They won’t have any... any effect on the ship’s weapons systems.”

Looking at the holographic display before him, at the grease-monks on the weapons platforms kowtowing to the macro-cannons and lance batteries with great solemnity while burning incense, Wang Ming could only answer Captain Jiang Tao helplessly.

To those grease-monks, the Imperial Truth was nothing less than a treasury of the Omnissiah, a divine gift bestowed upon all who worshiped the Machine God.

If this had not been a primarch’s flagship, they would have wanted to drag the Imperial Truth all the way to Mars and enshrine it there.

Wang Ming had no especially good way of dealing with these fanatical grease-monks either. He could hardly forbid them from boarding the Imperial Truth. If he actually tried that, the whole lot of them would probably turn on him, and that would be far too troublesome.