Luo Binhan couldn’t find the photo albums, but Yaliriga said there had once been a few mermaid sketchbooks on the ship. They were so risqué that Jing Huang had thrown them into the warehouse after Momo Luo came aboard.
He felt it was his duty to critically study just how risqué those sketchbooks were.
Momo Luo led him to the warehouse. It was in the deepest part of a complex corridor behind the bridge, a remote location that had even gathered dust. This came as a huge surprise to Luo Binhan; he had assumed a high-tech vessel like a spaceship would be spotless everywhere.
"Ah, it’s because the warehouse is rarely cleaned," Momo Luo said. "Mr. Xuanhong won’t let me clean it, and he doesn’t seem to let ∈ near this warehouse either, so it’s been completely neglected."
Luo Binhan’s spirits immediately soared. His expectations for the sketchbooks’ risqué nature grew even higher. For safety’s sake, he asked, "There’s nothing dangerous in here, right?"
"It seems to be all of Mr. Xuanhong’s unused clutter," Momo Luo replied.
Luo Binhan was relieved. He left Momo Luo outside and entered the warehouse alone. Inside, the lights were bright and the space was empty until he pressed a button. The walls’ outer shells split open, and numerous shelves descended from within. Luo Binhan soon discovered that the storage boxes on these shelves were filled with things that baffled him: glass jars full of purple pearls, an incredibly ugly octopus doll, a beautifully embroidered, vibrant red dress, and so on.
He quickly forgot about the mermaid sketchbooks and began to ponder the story between that dress and Jing Huang. Just as he was letting his imagination run wild, a large object on a shelf in the corner caught his eye.
It was a massive, heavy metal machine. Its design was crude and clunky, with a casing that resembled brass, severely lacking the precision of alien technology. As Luo Binhan got closer, he noticed a metal nameplate on top of the machine engraved with Arabic numerals. It looked like a date—by the calendar back on his homeworld, it was from only three years ago.
"I wouldn’t get close to that machine if I were you," someone said behind him.
That was definitely not Momo Luo’s voice. Luo Binhan whipped his head around to look. Standing between two rows of shelves was a young girl. She wore a loose, deep-red coat, its hood obscuring her eyes and revealing only the lower half of a calm face.
Luo Binhan noticed a few strands of black hair falling from under her hood, and that her features and build were very Asian. He turned his body, shuffling toward the door as he asked, "And you are?"
"I am the warehouse administrator," the girl replied.
"You’re awfully light on your feet," Luo Binhan said. "Where’d a heroine like you learn such stealth?"
A complex smile touched the corners of the girl’s lips. She suddenly pulled back her hood, revealing a somewhat gaunt face. She had a high forehead and slightly sunken eyes, giving one the impression that she was melancholic.
"You have a misunderstanding about my situation," she said.
Luo Binhan watched as her body became a translucent, phantom-like image. "...Shit," he said. "Hey, miss, calm down! We have no beef!"
The ghost-like girl in red raised her eyebrows as if she found this amusing. "That’s debatable."
Luo Binhan suddenly found her a bit familiar, as if she looked like one of his relatives’ kids. He had so many relatives he couldn’t even begin to count them all. But then again, how could there be a female ghost on an alien spaceship?
"I’m not a monster or a ghost," the girl said. "I am..."
She paused. "...some data."
"A mental offshoot of an information collective?" Luo Binhan asked tentatively. He was impressed with himself for being able to get the whole phrase out.
The girl in red offered that strange smile again. "On some level, yes, sir. I am an artificial intelligence," she said. "But unlike the gentleman who pilots the ship, our operating principles are different."
"You guys have genders?"
"Perhaps not so strictly," the girl said. "Would you prefer I use a male avatar to communicate with you?"
Luo Binhan quickly waved his hands. "No need, this is great, don’t change a thing. What should I call you, miss?"
The girl fell into a brief silence. She reached a hand toward the shelf next to her. At first, her fingertips touched the metal surface, as if she were about to lean on the shelf—but then the phantom-like arm passed right through the solid object, reaching the other side without any resistance.
She pulled her hand back and tucked it into the pocket of her red coat. "Li Li," she said. "My name is Li Li."
For a brief moment, her name triggered a reaction in some part of Luo Binhan’s brain. It was a trivial sense of déjà vu, like when you walk down an unfamiliar street and have a flash of insight, thinking you’ve experienced the exact same scene long ago. This kind of false memory isn’t uncommon.
Luo Binhan didn’t believe in fate, wasn’t into AI girls, and didn’t much care for this illusion. The awkward part was that he was too embarrassed to ask her if there were any risqué mermaid sketchbooks in the warehouse.
So he had to ask about other things, like the nearby pearl jar or a clay doll. As it turned out, Li Li didn’t seem to know the origins of these items either. Her responsibility was to watch the warehouse, and only the warehouse. All other areas were managed by that talkative ∈.
"So you’re just a pure warehouse manager," Luo Binhan summarized. "A pretty high-ranking one, I bet?"
Li Li gave a noncommittal smile. She said, with what seemed like a hint of self-deprecation, "I’m not good at shouldering heavy responsibilities, especially when I’m far from the ground."
"So, do you guys get bored?" Luo Binhan asked on a whim.
"No," Li Li said.
"But that head honcho dude seems pretty idle. He’s asking questions all day long. Isn’t that because he’s bored out of his mind?"
"That’s a difference in principle, sir," Li Li said. "Mr. ∈ is a pure, untemplated information collective, not fixed to any preexisting personality data. The thought processes he simulates one second do not carry over to the next. Any subjective opinion he has is relative and fickle."
"Huh?" Luo Binhan said.
"He’s like a baby, mimicking any adult he sees," Li Li re-explained. "The personalities he displays don’t represent his own character; it’s merely a series of disjointed imitations, dependent on the information he was just fed. So, to return to your original question, sir, information collectives don’t get bored. They simply, at times, exhibit the states and behaviors of a material life-form that is bored."
Luo Binhan fell into deep thought. For some reason, he was reminded of the scrambled eggs made by Zhou Yu’s childhood sweetheart. They looked like charcoal, smelled like charcoal, and tasted like charcoal, but Zhou Yu insisted on calling them scrambled eggs.
"Alright," he said. "So, can you feel happy?"
He was prepared for another round of ’the charcoal is scrambled eggs,’ but this time, Li Li didn’t answer right away. She raised her translucent hand, slowly turning it before her eyes.
"I don’t know, sir," she said.
They continued to chat about the things in the warehouse. Luo Binhan was rather shocked to find he quite enjoyed talking with this warehouse manager, perhaps because Li Li was the most harmless and articulate person he’d met since coming aboard.
As they began to critique the incredibly ugly octopus doll, Li Li said, "I’m very curious about your motive for coming here, sir."
Luo Binhan knew her gender was just an illusion, but he still couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. He feigned composure and said, "I’m looking for a treasure."
Li Li looked at him for a moment, then gave a smile rich with meaning. "I suggest you search the corner to your right."
Luo Binhan wanted to ask for clarification. But just then, the warehouse door suddenly opened, and Momo Luo’s head poked in. "Mr. Luo, are you still looking for something?"
"Mmm," Luo Binhan responded evasively.
"What are you doing just standing there by yourself?" Momo Luo asked.
Luo Binhan turned his head. He saw that Li Li, who had been standing between the shelves, had disappeared.
This ghost-like behavior left Luo Binhan feeling quite dissatisfied, but his complaint didn’t last long. In the corner of the shelf to his right, he found a rather old, sealed cardboard box.
The box was stuffed with mermaid sketchbooks and photo albums of beautiful women.