Prohibiting speech does not control discourse; it is only by permitting it that one truly exerts control.
Enfinietta was an exceptionally meticulous individual, her rigor at times bordering on the infinitesimally subtle. Every action she undertook was imbued with a clear purpose. Even matters that seemed utterly impossible, she would painstakingly verify. For instance, back in Worldly Affairs City, despite knowing Xuanji Star would never leave the machine tools for Vega, she had insisted on a personal on-site inspection. The situation was no different now. Although she didn’t know the identity of her colleague, it was highly probable that, with Xuanji Star having occupied this place for so long, the former work departments would no longer exist. Yet, Enfinietta still came to confirm it herself—perhaps to avoid appearing deceitful if she were to reply to her colleague without having personally verified the facts.
Ke Yiyi mused that Enfinietta possessed a remarkable talent for detective work, for such investigations demanded precisely this level of rigor and meticulousness. Still, assigning such fundamental tasks to a great scientist seemed a regrettable underutilization of her brilliance.
Her entire person was invariably adorned with an array of electronic devices. These gadgets never left her side, each one meticulously handled, stored, and even polished, suggesting their considerable value. However, given Enfinietta’s income, acquiring such items would pose no difficulty. Moreover, if they were work-related, she wouldn’t even need to pay for them herself, as the Technical Council would undoubtedly furnish her with all the necessary equipment.
Sensing Ke Yiyi’s curious gaze, Enfinietta turned her head slightly and inquired,
“Curious?”
“A little. It’s my first time seeing one. Zero-Intellin?”
Ke Yiyi read the text inscribed on the back of Enfinietta’s tablet. Having barely used the Gallen language since learning it, she felt a sudden awkwardness articulating the words aloud, always concerned her pronunciation might not be standard. Though she had passed the relevant language examinations, some things simply couldn’t be resolved by tests alone.
Given Vega’s intricate ethnic composition, a veritable tapestry of languages thrived. Many who resided in these ethnically diverse areas for extended periods could generally master several tongues; while writing might pose challenges, verbal communication was rarely an issue. To minimize communication barriers, the older generations had implemented bilingual education from a young age, with students in junior and senior high school further required to elect an additional language.
Though many players were exempt from formal schooling, they could not afford to neglect language acquisition. Ke Yiyi, for instance, in preparation for her duties as a detective, had diligently studied Gallen and Oceanwind languages during her time at the police academy. She was also proficient in Cloud Mountain language and a smattering of Yingzhou language. Due to her inherent limitations, she hadn’t mastered many of the minor languages prevalent among Vega’s smaller communities, but her command of the aforementioned common languages of the majority was already more than sufficient for her investigative work.
Given the high linguistic proficiency prevalent here, it was exceedingly rare for an individual to possess mastery of only one language. For instance, all eleven members of the observation team could communicate fluently in Blaze language. Beyond that, each person had mastered at least two additional languages. Gan Lan might be an exception; besides Blaze language, she only knew Oceanwind language. However, she was proficient in two variant branches (i.e., dialects) of Blaze language. While these couldn’t be considered distinct languages, only components of Blaze language, they represented a skill Ke Yiyi had not acquired, as she only spoke standard Blaze.
“Yes, it’s an experimental model, not yet released to the public. Production should begin around the end of the year.”
“What is it?”
“A tablet computer.”
Enfinietta paused, considering that while Neutron Star had already commenced mass production of such devices, Vega had yet to follow suit. Explaining it with merely a name would be too vague, yet she harbored no desire to expend further words elaborating on a product not yet in production—especially one in which she had a direct hand.
“A type of computer.”
“A computer? Is it truly that diminutive?”
Ke Yiyi couldn’t help but scrutinize the device at Enfinietta’s waist. When she had first entered the police academy, computers were still cumbersome, sprawling machines. A mere few years after her graduation, they had already transformed into the sleek laptop style favored by Yagami Saichi. Now, to see one so impossibly small, truly underscored the astonishing, daily advancements of technology.
“It could actually be made even smaller,” Enfinietta clarified, “but the manufacturing cost would increase significantly, hindering its widespread adoption by the public.”
“Is it just like other computers?”
“Would you like to try it?”
Enfinietta retrieved the tablet computer and extended it to Ke Yiyi, who paused in surprise, having not anticipated such an offer.
“Oh? Isn’t this a highly important experimental model?”
“It’s merely an experimental model,” Enfinietta replied dismissively. “It’s hardly of great importance. I can apply for a new one at any time.”
Ke Yiyi reached out and accepted the tablet, finding it remarkably light in her hand, much like the display panels she was accustomed to. It was, of course, operated by touch screen. Yet, as it belonged to someone else, she refrained from idly toying with it as she might her own possessions, merely manipulating it a few times before carefully returning it to Enfinietta.
Before returning it, she noticed a small line of text beneath the Zero-Intellin logo on its reverse. She subconsciously scrutinized it, recognizing a phrase in Gallen: ‘I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space.’
It was a quote from *Reinhardt*, but its relevance here puzzled her.
She posed this question as she handed the tablet back to Enfinietta, but Enfinietta merely blushed faintly, averted her gaze, and mumbled, ‘It means nothing…’
Sensing that further inquiry might cause Enfinietta discomfort, Ke Yiyi wisely decided not to press the matter. A police officer’s duty was to alleviate others’ embarrassment, not to inflict it upon them. Indeed, such a principle held true for anyone, regardless of profession.
“Did you develop it?”
Li Yuyi, consistently walking at the vanguard, couldn’t observe the unfolding events behind him. Yet, he could broadly discern the conversation between Ke Yiyi and the others. His command of Gallen, in fact, surpassed Ke Yiyi’s—a consequence of having learned it outside Vega, thus unmarred by the complexities of ‘language fusion.’
Ke Yiyi and Gan Lan instinctively turned their heads, watching as Enfinietta nodded.
“Yes.”
While Enfinietta’s aura of brilliance was by now a familiar sight, whenever a discussion veered towards something she had personally developed, Ke Yiyi and the others would invariably register a fleeting moment of surprise. Both Ke Yiyi and Gan Lan, in their own self-perception, considered themselves ‘individuals of modest talent,’ and thus could only respond to the accomplishments of ‘truly gifted individuals’ with attitudes akin to, ‘Oh, how utterly remarkable!’
In other words, they felt as if they existed in entirely different worlds.
“Then why is it called Zero-Intellin?” Gan Lan interjected suddenly. “Does it have any special meaning?”
Gan Lan’s sudden interjection caught Ke Yiyi quite off guard; it was rare for her to spontaneously engage in conversation. Naturally, if directly questioned, Gan Lan would always provide an answer, though whether that answer aligned with one’s expectations was an entirely different matter.
“Zero refers to the number zero,” Enfinietta explained. “Everything begins from zero. And Intellin is my childhood nickname.”
A brief silence fell over the group. The explanation was, in fact, quite reasonable, yet it defied the common stereotype of scientists—the expectation that such a simple name must surely conceal a convoluted, intricate meaning or process.
However, this simplicity also perfectly aligned with Enfinietta’s character. After all, she even had her clothes meticulously numbered, wearing them according to a strict daily sequence. Simplicity and order were her paramount pursuits, and viewed through that lens, such a straightforward naming convention was entirely normal.
Though Ke Yiyi didn’t fully grasp Enfinietta’s design philosophy, from her own perspective, this more portable computer was undeniably a remarkable achievement. It would undoubtedly streamline numerous tasks for the police force in the future; for instance, officers would no longer need to lug cumbersome laptops when conducting door-to-door data collection.
****
When Ke Yiyi and her companions emerged from the mine, the Polaris group was still feasting heartily where they stood. The eleven men possessed truly formidable appetites; the previously abundant provisions had been entirely devoured. Ke Yiyi found herself wondering, with genuine bewilderment, why they were always so ravenous.
They still beckoned Ke Yiyi and her companions to join their meal, but Ke Yiyi chose to politely decline. The Polaris people, however, remained unperturbed, continuing to eat, drink, and sing with boisterous abandon.
The songs they sang were peculiar… all of them about war.
Ke Yiyi had seen photographs of some Polaris creations, such as their cars and tractors. Their design aesthetic was… difficult to articulate. At best, one might term it ‘minimalist’; at worst, it could only be described as ‘crude.’
She had initially presumed that, in keeping with Polaris’s unrefined and rugged aesthetic, their songs would mirror this style—perhaps bellowed at the top of their lungs or accompanied by passionate, surging melodies. War songs, especially, should be precisely this way, inspiring strength and a warlike fervor.
Yet, the songs Cui Wei and his companions sang were profoundly melancholic. Though smiles still graced their faces, the sheer sorrow in their voices compelled Ke Yiyi to lean in and listen intently.
Upon returning to her room, she gazed out at the Polaris people singing beneath her window. Slowly, she unlatched and opened it, allowing their voices to drift in and envelop her.
It was truly strange…
They sang several songs, yet each one resonated with the same profound sadness…
Despite their pervasive rudeness and lack of decorum, their songs were invariably melancholic; not a single note of joy could be found.
This bore a striking resemblance to some of Vega’s post-war songs, which also inclined towards sorrowful and subdued melodies. However, that was because Vega had been on the losing side of the World War; the bitterness and anguish of defeat had tormented Vega, leaving every soul on that land with a persistent ache, utterly devoid of any inspiration for joy or happiness.
Yet, Polaris had unequivocally emerged as the victor of the World War. They had conquered vast swathes of land in the Western Eastern Continent, and all peoples had bowed before them. They were, without a doubt, the triumphant. Why, then, were their songs of war imbued with such profound sadness… as if they had suffered a devastating defeat?
After listening for a while, Ke Yiyi finally closed the window.
She neither understood the thoughts and motivations of the Polaris people, nor could she comprehend their actions.
The war crimes perpetrated by Polaris during the World War far eclipsed those of Xuanji Star. The mere thought of it sent shivers down Ke Yiyi’s spine.
Everything Xuanji Star had done was already wicked enough, yet there were still those who surpassed them… It was truly fortunate that Vega did not share a border with Polaris…
She lay on her bed, the melodies of the Polaris songs she had just heard echoing in her mind. Though sorrowful, they were beautiful. The Polaris people’s compositional skill was clearly not as crude and uninspired as their tractors.
It was as if the songs were meant to be recited alongside poetry…