Chapter 454: The First Day’s Conversation (1) |
Guan Tong stared at the screen. The Dialoguer sat cross-legged on the ground, while contingents sent by Suroma, Beixing, Xisiya, and other nations had formed a security perimeter around it.
That was right, one hour after the Dialoguer's arrival, Human Consortium member states had dispatched personnel and forbidden anyone from contacting or speaking with the Dialoguer without permission.
This approach was somewhat similar to how things had been handled when the Third Contact rule activated and the nano-intelligences descended, but unlike that time when Xisiya deployed heavy forces to build multiple defensive rings, the atmosphere this time wasn’t as tense.
That was because the soldiers from those Saman warlords who had previously talked to the Dialoguer showed no side effects and paid no price afterward.
Now casual conversations were prohibited purely for time-management reasons. This rule only lasted three days, and governments believed they needed to gather as much information as possible in that short window. They could not afford meaningless chitchat like those warlord soldiers earlier.
“I wonder how they’ll allocate the speaking time.”
Guan Tong thought that Human Consortium members would probably distribute time based on national strength. The three major powers would likely get more time, while smaller countries would receive shorter slots.
The reason for separating the talks was that each country’s decision-makers wanted to ask the Dialoguer different questions.
Just like when the nano-intelligences arrived, every nation had its own priorities.
His phone vibrated on the table. Guan Tong picked it up in surprise. He had assumed that after the Dialoguer’s descent all screens would be under the Fire Thief’s control.
After unlocking it, he saw that although the screen displayed the scene with the Dialoguer, the call function still worked in the background.
He pressed the quick-answer key, and the call connected.
“Guan Tong, can you hear me?”
Li Meng’s voice came through the line.
“I can hear you,” Guan Tong said. “Communication isn’t affected?”
“Yes. But ordinary phones can’t bring up the dial interface. I’m calling from the Countermeasures Research Office’s landline.”
“That explains it.”
Old rotary landline phones have no screen, so naturally they weren’t affected by the Rule’s power.
“Here’s the situation,” Li Meng said. “The Research Office is collecting ‘high-value conversation topics.’ Although you’re not part of the office, the director asked me to contact you. If you have proposals, submit them. If approved, Beixing’s delegation will discuss those topics with the Dialoguer.”
Guan Tong asked, “So the authorities have decided to hold talks with the Dialoguer?”
“Yes. Decision-makers from each country have agreed. The Human Consortium member states will be allocated speaking time. Of the total 72 hours, Beixing gets 24 hours, Suroma 24 hours, Xisiya 12 hours, and the remaining 12 hours will be shared by several other countries... This distribution is based on national strength, and no one objected.”
This result matched Guan Tong’s expectations. After thinking for a moment he said, “My proposed topic would be to ask the Dialoguer how much it knows about the Fire Thief, and whether it came to Tianshui Star as part of the Doomsday Rules voluntarily or under coercion. If voluntary, what was its motive?”
If he had a chance to converse with the Dialoguer, those were precisely the questions he wanted to ask.
But this time felt different from before; he didn’t expect to go to the site and make direct contact with the Dialoguer. It felt pointless unless…
Guan Tong thought about his Civilization Observer title and its upgrade requirement: absorbing special lifeforms. Since the Dialoguer was an extraterrestrial intelligence, it seemed to satisfy the title’s condition.
He wasn’t yet certain whether he would do that. Previously he absorbed the Mourning-Beak Furnace that had created the Scarlet Fear because that thing harbored pure malice toward humanity, and as a human he was justified in destroying it.
This Dialoguer, descended as part of the Doomsday Rules, could also qualify as an enemy of humanity—but that rule’s nature was special, making judgment difficult right now.
His plan was to wait.
He would observe the Dialoguer’s behavior until near the rule’s end, then decide whether to approach and absorb it with his title ability.
After hearing Guan Tong’s proposal, Li Meng agreed: “That proposal will likely be adopted. Many researchers share your thoughts. Everyone wants to know whether the Dialoguer, as part of the Doomsday Rules, is an accomplice of the Fire Thief or merely a puppet coerced by it.”
Shortly after the call ended, a Suroman on the screen spoke: “To all viewers, the Human Consortium has made a decision. Each country will send delegations to speak with the Dialoguer. Time allocations are as follows...”
Since every screen showed the same image and it was inconvenient to circulate separate bulletins, the consortium took advantage of that and announced the allocations from the scene itself.
“The first 12 hours of day one will be assigned to a delegation from Lury, Hanlis, Manchidon, Namelica, Heilanja, and Sakura Prayer Country. The next 12 hours go to Xisiya’s delegation. Day two’s full 24 hours will be assigned to Beixing, and day three’s 24 hours to Suroma.
Apart from the order between Beixing and Suroma on days two and three, everything else matches what Guan Tong expected.
The initial 12-hour slot given to the six small nations forming the ‘Super City Alliance’ was absolutely certain. Because those 12 hours weren’t full—the Dialoguer had already been present for over two hours, so the actual remaining time was under ten hours—this relatively disadvantageous time block was naturally assigned to the weakest states.
And by letting the six small nations go first, several major powers hoped to test the waters. If the Dialoguer had any traps, it was better for smaller countries to step in first so major powers could avoid them later.
After the announcement, the Super City Alliance delegation, responsible for spearheading Super City construction plans, took their places.
The delegation consisted of ten people: professional scholars, a sociologist, multidisciplinary experts, and even a debate champion who had won competitions in the era of peace.
When they approached the Dialoguer, it opened its eyes and stood up, smiling. “Everyone, it seems you are ready for a conversation.”
Leading the ten-person delegation was a professor in the technology field. He spoke first, as if reciting words he had memorized: “Yes. We would like to ask the following questions: First, what is the special material missing on Tianshui Star that could enable breakthroughs in foundational materials science? On which planet in this system can it be found? Second, is it feasible, based on advanced technology and Mind Power items, to build a Super City to resist the Doomsday Rules? Third, the Fire Thief—”
Dialoguer: “Excuse me for interrupting. You are not my students, and I am not your teacher. A simple Q&A format is not suitable for our conversation.”
The professor bristled, and the delegation’s debater immediately retorted: “But your earlier conversations with those warlord soldiers were exactly that format, weren’t they? They asked questions and you answered. You also asked them things and they replied.”
Dialoguer: “That was because the questions they asked—things like ‘Who are you?’—followed normal conversational logic. When humans encounter a stranger, they want to know names and origins before launching into complex, abstruse topics, don’t they?”
The debater, reflexively argumentative by profession, countered: “They asked those questions based on their own judgment, and we’re asking ours for the same reason. Different people communicate differently. Can't you adjust your conversational mode according to the interlocutor?”
Dialoguer: “I understand your thirst for unknown advanced knowledge, but such matters seem secondary to me. Our time is precious and should be spent on more important topics.”
Another expert on the delegation objected in surprise: “Advanced knowledge is secondary? How is that possible? For any intelligent civilization, acquiring advanced knowledge is surely the most vital concern!”
Dialoguer: “I don’t think so. For any civilized species, survival is paramount, even for intelligent species.”
Professor: “I don’t understand. Isn’t the acquisition of advanced knowledge precisely for survival? If prehistoric humans hadn’t learned how to use fire, they wouldn’t have developed civilization. If modern humans hadn’t discovered the steam engine, they wouldn’t have entered the industrial era. Without such knowledge, how could average lifespans and population numbers have soared? How is that unrelated to survival?”
Dialoguer: “It is unrelated. You mentioned fire and steam engines; bacteria never learned those, yet since Tianshui Star formed they’ve survived and multiplied for billions of years, still thriving today. Perhaps humans think bacteria lack intelligence and can’t be compared, but bacteria are indeed lifeforms, and their lack of intelligence is part of why they have persisted.”
Another scholar: “Your theory doesn’t sound novel. The idea that ‘intelligence hinders survival’ has been proposed by anthropologists in modern times. They often cite cockroaches, which have existed for hundreds of millions of years and adapt to environmental changes far better than humans—does that mean cockroaches are superior to humans?”
Dialoguer: “If the sole criterion is survival, cockroaches currently outperform humans.”
Debater: “Then why don’t cockroaches rule the planet instead of humans?”
Dialoguer: “First, humans do not ‘rule’ the planet. You still cannot extract and utilize all of the planet’s resources, can you? Second, please don’t be offended; we’re discussing the core issue of survival, not belittling humanity.”
Scholar: “But your point prioritizes survival over knowledge. By your logic, should humanity abandon the pursuit of knowledge and instead embrace ignorance?”
Soon after the delegation’s conversation with the Dialoguer began, it quickly turned tense.
Those involved were too close to see clearly; outside observers had a clearer view. While the delegation seemed unaware, many on-site and screen viewers realized the delegation had been drawn into the Dialoguer’s conversational framing.
Initially the delegation intended to extract key facts from the Dialoguer and had prepared several questions accordingly. But the exchange swiftly devolved into a debate centered on ‘survival,’ precisely the conversational trap the Dialoguer wanted to set.
At Xisiya’s parliamentary center, think tank members watched the screen and spoke up.
“What’s wrong with that small delegation? Don’t they realize they’re being steered by the Dialoguer?”
“Exactly. They should stick to their agenda and ask critical questions. They shouldn’t follow the Dialoguer’s lead. They’ve fallen right into a linguistic pit!”
“Our delegation must learn from this and maintain control of the conversation instead of letting the Dialoguer dominate!”
The Xisiya think tanks didn’t just criticize; many of them were itching to take the place of the on-site delegation and speak with the Dialoguer themselves. Their keen interest stemmed from the fact that Xisiya held the second 12-hour slot and thus had to learn from these lessons.
“What do you think?” Sigaochin asked Yelanka, who had been frowning at the screen.
Yelanka murmured, “I’m thinking the people chosen for the delegation were carefully selected human elites. Why couldn’t they see they’d been led into the Dialoguer’s frame?”
Sigaochin frowned. “Do you mean they were influenced by some unknown force?”
If a group of normally clear-headed elites became dogmatic when speaking to the Dialoguer, that would indeed be abnormal.
“I don’t know, but it’s possible,” Yelanka said seriously. “We must warn our delegation to pay extra attention when their turn comes.”
Her eyes flickered briefly, and she added, “And they should carry Mind Power items that protect against direct mental influence.”
On site, the conversation continued relentlessly.
From an observer’s perspective, the Dialoguer maintained a composed, effortless demeanor. Its speech was even and measured, and that faint smile never left its face.
The ten-person delegation, however, grew increasingly worked up. Except for a few who remained calm at first, most became more and more agitated; one or two flushed red and seemed on the verge of losing their composure.
Especially the professor who had asked the initial questions. His face showed strained anger, his tone hurried and abrasive, and his content aggressive: “If we follow your logic, then humanity’s current major development directions are all wrong! Humans should immediately stop space migration efforts, stop advancing artificial intelligence, stop digitizing memories! What you’re saying amounts to doing nothing and waiting like ants for the day of annihilation!”
Dialoguer: “If you’re asking for my advice, I agree with the first part of your statement. Yes, humanity should indeed halt the things you mentioned because they don’t benefit survival. But I don’t agree with the second part: halting those endeavors doesn’t mean doing nothing. It means redirecting energy and time to matters that truly benefit survival.”
Professor: “What, then, truly benefits survival?!”
Dialoguer: “The pursuit of individual awakening.”