318: The Lies of Navigation Systems

The interior light flickered.

Lin Wei looked up, her fingers resting on the edge of the console.

She didn't move, staring at the light.

The light shone for half a second before going out, as if the system were performing a self-check.

But she felt something was wrong.

Before Chen Wang left, he had said, "Something in the system isn't right."

He hadn't explained clearly, but he had given her permission to view the logs.

She sat in the driver's seat and opened the backend of the kindling system.

The screen flickered, and data began to scroll.

She found the "Driving Authorization Record" and pulled the time back to three minutes ago—the moment the Shadow Warrior exploded.

A new record appeared at the bottom of the list: the source was "Local Terminal 000," the name was blank, and the operation was "Protocol Activation."

This wasn't normal.

She had never registered this terminal.

She tried to delete this record.

The page froze for a moment, and after refreshing, it was still there.

She tried again, but the data turned into garbled text, only to revert to its original state a few seconds later.

She frowned, opened the engineering module, removed a spare interface board, and plugged in the bio-chip brought back from the geothermal layer.

As soon as the chip was connected, the holographic projection turned on automatically.

A formula appeared in the air; it was incomplete, but Lin Wei recognized it.

It was the earliest energy equation for the kindling system, which she had seen at the Research Institute before the apocalypse.

She reached out to tap it, but before she could touch it, the projection suddenly distorted, and a map popped up.

It was a topographical map.

It showed that hope was currently on an ice field, with three possible paths to take.

One of them was marked with a green arrow and labeled "Recommended Route to Safe Zone."

Lin Wei sneered.

She had seen plenty of this kind of false information.

The Marauders had used it, and the Empire had used it too.

But this time was different.

This map was generated by the system itself, not a signal transmitted from the outside.

She entered a high-privilege command, wanting to switch to raw coordinate mode.

The interface flashed and failed.

The map returned, and the green arrow grew brighter.

Lin Wei gritted her teeth and pushed the chip in one notch further.

The engineering module hummed, and the temperature rose.

She turned to look at the passenger seat.

Star Pupil was sitting there, her eyes closed.

The mechanical parrot, "broadcaster," was perched on her shoulder, its claws trembling slightly.

"Can you hear it?" Lin Wei asked.

Star Pupil did not open her eyes, but nodded gently.

Her breathing was slow, and her hands were pressed against her temples.

A few seconds later, she said one word: "Yes."

"What?"

"A pulse," her voice was very soft, "like a heartbeat... beneath the vehicle."

Lin Wei looked down at the floor.

Beneath it were only wires and pipes.

She opened the underlying scan and discovered a hidden signal being transmitted in a loop.

The frequency was very low, lasting 0.3 seconds each time, with an interval of exactly 7 seconds.

She noted it down and input it into the analyzer for comparison.

When the results came out, she held her breath.

This frequency was exactly the same as the resonance crystal inside Star Pupil.

"It's imitating you," Lin Wei said.

Star Pupil shook her head.

"It's not imitating. It's responding."

She slowly raised her hand and placed it in the center of the console.

Lin Wei didn't stop her.

She knew that Star Pupil's ability was not attack, but reception.

She was a living antenna, capable of hearing data that others could not.

Star Pupil's hand fell.

The holographic interface shook violently.

The map shattered, stretched out, and turned into a three-dimensional image.

The ice field disappeared, and a rotating galaxy model appeared.

The orbits of the sun, earth, and moon were clear, and beside them were a series of satellite trajectories with unfamiliar identification numbers.

Lin Wei was stunned.

This was not navigation data.

This was something left behind by the old world's space observation network.

She quickly flipped through the database and found the entry for the encrypted archives of the Ark Project.

It required dual verification.

She used her own identity key, combined with Star Pupil's biological spectrum, and barely passed.

The Ark Project AI activated.

A figure appeared in the hologram, gender indistinguishable, with a flat voice: "Non-standard access request detected. Identity confirmed: Lin Wei, former B-level engineer at the Research Institute; Star Pupil, S-level sensitive body. Access to Level 2 permission area granted."

"We want to see the real geographic coordinates," Lin Wei said directly.

"Current vehicle position locked," the AI replied, "but there is a deviation in the historical path."

"What does that mean?"

"Over the past fourteen days, hope has traveled 1876 kilometers, theoretically enough to reach the core area of the genesis engine. The actual trajectory deviated from the main axis by 42.3 degrees, forming a closed loop, repeated three times."

Lin Wei's mind sank.

"You mean... we've been going in circles?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't anyone notice?"

"The navigation system published modified data. The original signal was blocked."

Lin Wei immediately looked at Star Pupil.

She was still closing her eyes, with blood trickling from her nostrils.

Lin Wei wanted to help her, but was gently pushed away.

Star Pupil's hand was still on the console.

Her lips moved, and she hummed a melody.

Short, staccato, like a piano etude.

The sound transmitted into the system and collided with the pulse.

The star map changed.

A new layer appeared, transparent and glowing faintly.

It was a star map with complex lines, the center point deep within the Earth.

Lin Wei zoomed in and discovered that the map was drawn at 4:17 AM on the day of the apocalypse.

This was exactly the time when the kindling system was activated.

She pulled up the energy records and compared them with the star map.

They overlapped perfectly.

"This map... existed long ago," she said in a low voice.

The Ark Project AI spoke again: "Quantum virus intrusion detected. Source unknown. Immediate system-wide formatting is recommended to prevent the spread of consciousness contamination."

Lin Wei didn't move.

She stared at the red dot at the end of the star map.

That was the true location of the genesis engine, on the Earth's core resonance belt, 912 kilometers away, in a straight line through the rock layers.

You couldn't travel on the ground.

You had to go underground.

Just as she was about to speak, she suddenly noticed a change in Star Pupil.

Her body leaned forward, as if being pulled in by something.

The mechanical parrot squawked, its wings spread, and its claws gripped her sleeve tightly.

"Star Pupil!" Lin Wei shouted.

No response.

Star Pupil's eyelids were twitching, and blood was beginning to flow from the corners of her mouth.

But she was still humming, faster and higher-pitched.

The holographic interface went black for two seconds.

When it lit up again, the image had changed.

It wasn't a map.

It was a room.

White walls, a metal table, and a woman in a white lab coat with her back to the camera.

She held a crystal in her hand and was bending over, embedding it into the base of a wuling emblem.

The emblem was very old, its edges worn down.

But Lin Wei recognized it.

That was the original wuling emblem of hope.

After finishing, the woman turned and looked at the camera for a moment.

Her face was only visible for an instant, but it was very clear.

Star Pupil's body shook violently.

She opened her mouth and spat out two words: "Mom..."

Then she slid down.

Lin Wei lunged forward to hold her and dragged her to the seat next to the medical pod.

She turned off all non-essential systems and cut the external connections.

The mechanical parrot jumped onto her shoulder, emitting rapid electronic sounds.

The star map was still floating in the air.

The red dot was flashing.

Lin Wei watched it, her fingers turning cold.

She remembered why she had joined this team.

To fix the space-folding technology and make the vehicle name fly.

She had always thought this was a matter of science.

Now she wasn't so sure.

The Ark Project AI said one last thing: "Memory protection protocol initiated, awaiting authorization for restart."

Then the image retracted to the bottom of the core cabin, leaving only basic life systems running.

The cockpit went quiet.

Lin Wei sat on the floor, leaning against the seat.

She looked at the unconscious Star Pupil, then looked up at the star map.

The progress bar at the bottom moved slowly, reading "Recalculating path."

It stopped at 97%.

A line of small text popped up below: "Real coordinates unlocked. Continue?"