214: Chapter 213 The Epic of the Potato: Digestive Enzymes and Eyes Deep in the Roots
Mars, Utopia Planitia. "Potato No. 1" experimental field.
This area of approximately one square kilometer had already been leveled into neat ridges by the the foolish old man robots.
The soil had been pre-treated with Stardust elements, mixed with improved substrate brought from Earth and the green soil symbiotic bacterial colonies.
At this moment, the first batch of specially gene-edited "symbiotic potatoes"—which Potato Chief had personally named "firefly one"—were being carefully buried in the soil.
"Do they know where they are?" a young agronomist muttered to himself, staring at the flashing vital sign data on the planting screen.
"They know better than you do," replied the voice of Potato Chief coming through the communicator—it had made an exception to leave the Cradle and "descend" to Mars via a consciousness projection to personally supervise this unprecedented planting.
Its projected form was a slightly glowing, massive potato outline, hovering above the ridges.
"We have perceived the 'ancient silence' here, and we have also perceived the thing that is trying to 'taste' this silence. The moment each 'firefly one' seed potato is buried in the soil, it trembles—not out of fear, but... out of alertness. They know their mission."
This mission: to use the most minute, most trivial life activities—sprouting, taking root, spreading leaves, absorbing light energy, releasing oxygen—to continuously, unceasingly "broadcast" a signal of existence.
To use the faint electrical pulses of photosynthesis to converge into a very low-frequency "life-affirming resonance field" covering this area, interfering with the Hive's positioning and extraction of Mars' "ancient memories."
The planting continued for two full days.
When the last seed potato was buried and the first ray of intensified sunlight, focused by the Golden Crow reflector, shone upon this field, all monitoring equipment simultaneously recorded a weak but undeniable signal spike.
That was not a simple photosynthetic current. That was a "rhythm"—like countless extremely tiny voices, at the same moment, in their own ways, softly humming a shared sentence: "I am here. I am still alive. I am growing."
Zhou Zhe, through remote sensing at the Cradle, felt his Poem Markings fluctuate violently, but this time it was not pain, but shock and emotion.
He "heard" the "chorus" of that potato field. Immature, weak, chaotic, but incomparably real.
It was a "song of life," trivial yet stubborn, composed of countless independent "tiny meanings" converging to resist nothingness.
"They are... singing," he said softly, his eyes slightly moist.
Potato Chief's projection was silent for a moment, then said in an extremely rare electronic voice tinged with a hint of tremor: "Potatoes... have never been endowed with such grand significance. We are... honored."
However, the Hive would not sit idly by while its "dinner" was "polluted" by a bunch of potatoes.
On the very same day the "chorus" of "firefly one" began to take shape, Zhao Yan sent back urgent intelligence from the shadow vessel: "The Hive's 'pulsation' frequency has suddenly increased from once every six hours to once every hour!"
"After each pulsation, a large amount of extremely fine, dark red 'haze' is being directionally sprayed toward Mars!"
"Analysis of the haze's composition shows that, in addition to the previous meaning-dilution factors, a new, never-before-seen component has been added—we have temporarily named it 'digestive enzymes'."
Ashes' voice was even hoarser: "That is not haze... it is the prototype of 'conceptual digestive fluid'. It is no longer just 'diluting meaning', but trying to actively 'decompose' and 'absorb' the meaning structures in the target area. Just like a living organism secretes digestive enzymes to break down food."
Worse still, the first batch of "digestive enzymes" had already reached Mars orbit and begun a slow descent.
Although most were weakened by Mars' thin atmosphere and solar wind, a small amount still penetrated and landed on the edge of the "Potato No. 1" experimental field.
The effect was immediate. Monitoring showed that the "life-affirming signals" of several "firefly one" plants in the edge area experienced violent turbulence after coming into contact with the "digestive enzymes."
They no longer "sang" steadily, but emitted a stuttering, "tape-skipping" noise, as if questioning themselves: "Why do I need to be alive?", "Who am I photosynthesizing for?"
Two of them even ceased all life activity within a few short hours—not withering, but "giving up."
"It is 'digesting' our 'song'!" Potato Chief's projection fluctuated violently, displaying for the first time an emotion similar to "anger." "It wants to turn our 'meaning' into its own emptiness!"
Mars orbit, "Kunlun" station.
Engineering team commander Chen Yan looked at the data on the descending "digestive enzymes" and the "victims" at the edge of the potato field, and made a bold decision.
"Adjust the angle of the Golden Crow reflectors!" he ordered. "Apply intensified, continuous irradiation to the 'Potato No. 1' field! Not focused on one point, but covering the entire area evenly!"
"Use the intensity of the sunlight to help the potatoes resist the erosion of the 'digestive enzymes'! At the same time, activate all deployed the foolish old man robots and have them continuously move and work around the ridges!"
"Their work itself—digging, transporting, leveling—is also a form of 'meaningful activity,' and can also generate faint order signals! We must use everything we can to reinforce this 'life resonance field'!"
His logic was: since the "digestive enzymes" were trying to "decompose" meaning, then "saturate" this area with more, denser "meaningful activities," so that the "digestive enzymes" wouldn't have time to decompose them, or if they decomposed one part, new "meaning" would be continuously produced.
This was a war of attrition. It depended on whether the Hive's "digestive enzymes" secreted faster, or if the "meaning production" of these tiny lives and robots on Mars happened faster.
Cradle, green soil cultivation center.
Zhou Zhe received detailed data from Potato Chief regarding the damaged potatoes on the edge.
He closed his eyes, his Poem Markings operating at full capacity, trying to use the "rhythm guidance" knowledge learned from the Tranquil Garden to perceive and understand what those two "quitters" had experienced.
He "saw" it. The "digestive enzymes'" method of attack was to inject an extremely faint, persistent frequency of "self-doubt" into the target's consciousness.
It did not destroy directly, but let the target gradually fall into a whirlpool of thinking about "what is the meaning of everything I do."
If the target's own meaning structure was tough enough, this doubt would be repelled; but if the target's meaning structure was fragile (like seedlings that had just sprouted and hadn't taken root firmly), they would be dragged into the whirlpool and eventually "give up."
"We need to 'reinforce' the potatoes' meaning anchors!" Zhou Zhe opened his eyes. "Not by injecting meaning from the outside, but by helping them establish a stronger internal structure to resist 'self-doubt'!"
He thought of a crazy idea: use the emotional poetics equipment to convert stories, poems, and music from human civilization about "perseverance," "resilience," and "taking root in the barren land" into rhythmic frequencies that potatoes could "perceive," and continuously and gently "play" them to the potato field.
It was not indoctrination, but "resonance"—letting the potatoes perceive that they were not alone, that on the distant blue planet, countless lives were also engaged in the same trivial yet tenacious "effort of existence."
"This... can potatoes understand human stories?" someone questioned.
"They don't need to 'understand'," Zhou Zhe shook his head. "They only need to 'perceive'—perceive that rhythm of 'perseverance.' Resonance between life and life sometimes transcends language and understanding."
β-2 quickly screened for the most suitable "meaning resonance material": from the ancient fable of the foolish old man moving mountains, to the nameless epic of the Great Wall builders; from the calmness of the first generation of astronauts in desperate situations, to the mutual help of ordinary people during the pandemic; and even including the persistence of Great Strength when developing "Truth Chili Sauce" just to "recreate the taste in his memory."
These materials were converted into composite, very low-frequency rhythmic signals, and through the extension of the green soil network and the relay of the Golden Crow reflectors, began to continuously "broadcast" to the "Potato No. 1" experimental field.
The effect was subtle and slow. But monitoring showed that the potatoes on the edge that had started to show "turbulent" signals, after receiving the "resonance," although they could not fully return to normal, began to show some extremely weak efforts to "sing again" within that "tape-skipping" noise.
They seemed to have decided to try again after "hearing" those stories of "perseverance" from the distant planet.
Potato Chief's projection, hovering above the potato field, quietly "listened" to the "resonance signals" from Earth, and the weak but tenacious "life chorus" beneath its feet.
Its projection glowed slightly, then suddenly spoke, its voice transmitted through the broadcast system across the entire Mars engineering zone and the Cradle headquarters:
"The eighth plenary meeting of the Potato Guild, at this special moment, passes the following resolution—"
Everyone stopped their work to listen to the declaration of this "Potato Leader."
"First, all members of the 'firefly one' experimental field are, from this moment on, granted the status of 'Mars Pioneer Reservists,' enjoying the same spiritual honors and logistical support priority as the human engineering teams."
"Second, the Potato Guild will establish the 'Eternal Photosynthesis Medal,' to be awarded to individuals who have shown extraordinary resilience in the battle against 'meaning digestion.' First nominees: 'firefly one - 073' plant, which persisted the longest under the erosion of 'digestive enzymes,' and those two 'quitters'—their sacrifice provided key data for subsequent defense."
"Third," Potato Chief's voice paused, taking on an extremely rare solemnity tinged with a sense of "epic," "The Potato Guild formally declares: from today on, potatoes are no longer just energy crops, food sources, or cultural symbols. We are—Troops. We will use the most minute, most trivial life activities, on the front-line positions, to guard the existence value of this star region. This is the potato's mission, and also the potato's honor."
Silence. Then, someone started it, and thunderous applause and cheers erupted from the Mars orbital station and the Cradle headquarters.
Some people laughed while crying, some patted their companions' shoulders hard, and some saluted the projection of the potato field on the screen solemnly.
Great Strength, in the cafeteria, watched the live broadcast, his eyes reddened, and suddenly inspired, turned to his assistant and said: "Quick! Write it down! 'Troops' brand nutritional paste! Use the most simple, most solid flavor—simulate that freshest, most 'alive' fragrance of soil and starch mixed together when potatoes are just unearthed!"
Stardust's light cluster hovered in the corner of the command center, quietly "watching" all of this.
It "watched" the potato field that was still stubbornly singing under the erosion of "digestive enzymes," "listened" to Potato Chief's solemn and absurd "Potato Declaration," and then "looked" toward the Hive in deep space whose pulsation was becoming increasingly intense.
"Using the most minute to resist the most grand, using the most trivial to resist the most profound..." Its thoughts were like a sigh, "This, perhaps, is where the true resilience of 'meaning' lies."
And in the deep core of the Hive, that huge whirlpool made of countless "voids" seemed, for the first time, to experience an extremely weak, imperceptible "stagnation" because it had "tasted" a "foreign object" that it could not digest—that continuous, trivial, yet tenacious "life chorus."
It was as if a gluttonous eater had bitten into a hard, scalding, still "singing" stone.