Chapter 15

[August 8, 20XX]

Workday.

Dan Ning’s outing today didn’t make me feel agitated.

Compared to the situation a day ago, the only difference between the two instances was that this time, I clearly knew the reason and purpose behind his trip.

The Biocomputer’s deduction hadn’t yielded any results yet, but I already had a rather ominous premonition.

There was a problem with the extent of my concern for Dan Ning.

The sheltered life I led meant that my exposure to Earth’s living beings was extremely limited. Within this confined environment, whether out of consideration for my own safety or the desire to reciprocate the kindness of my shelter provider, it was perfectly normal for me to care about Dan Ning’s emotions, thoughts, and actions. However, repeatedly violating the Starfarer’s code of conduct because of this concern was anything but normal.

Survival was the top priority. Every Starfarer feared death, but the nature of this profession dictated that survival was what gave meaning—only by surviving could the information we explored be transmitted back to The Alliance.

I could endure the prolonged solitude of the journey and tolerate all the mimetic simulations that forced behaviors contrary to my own will, but I couldn’t allow my safety to be compromised.

To stay alive until rescue arrived and transmit the information about this new star, I should strictly adhere to the Starfarer’s survival guidelines. The first violation—altering my mimetic appearance—could still be explained as catering to my shelter provider’s aesthetic preferences to secure long-term shelter. But now, why was I feeling restless simply because I couldn’t track Dan Ning’s whereabouts?

And what about the sense of joy I felt when interacting with Dan Ning online?

I reviewed all the log entries since arriving on Earth—this person’s presence in them had grown increasingly prominent.

“Qikeliyah,” the computer chimed in after finishing its algorithm, “are you in love?”

[August 9, 20XX]

I need to think this through carefully.

[August 10, 20XX]

I think I’ve already forgotten what “love” feels like.

Could my excessive concern for Dan Ning be due to “liking” him?

I can neither confirm nor deny it.

This ambiguous state is truly vexing.

[August 11, 20XX]

I’ve decided to set aside the questions troubling me for now.

It’s been five days since I last logged into the forum, and the connection I’d built with Dan Ning might have been severed due to this hiatus. I don’t want to lose this channel of communication yet.

After logging in, the forum status showed me as online.

I scoured the sections for traces of Dan Ning: everything was as usual. His interest in the cosmos remained undiminished, and his visitation frequency stayed at a high level.

I opened a thread he was actively discussing—”Nostalgia: Has anyone seen the old sci-fi movie Men in Black?”—and posted an emoji.

“Hey, Scholar King!” “Scholar King, you watch old movies too?” Some greeted me. My participation in a few academic discussions before seemed to have left an impression on quite a few people.

As I hesitated over whether to respond to these teasing comments, a new reply popped up.

The message was from Dan Ning: “Haven’t seen you around for days. Is everything okay?”

I looked up: Dan Ning was sitting at his computer, staring intently at the screen.

His greeting was likely just out of politeness, not genuine worry for a stranger he’d only interacted with online for a few days. Yet, I still felt my mood lift at his concern.

I replied, “Thanks for asking. Everything’s fine.”

“That’s good.” Dan Ning added a smiling emoji at the end of his sentence.

And indeed, he was smiling in front of his computer too.

For a moment, I heard the heartbeat of my mimetic form.