WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator/Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Little Prince in the Ossuary

00045

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#Intermission, The AI's Mind (3)

Hello, valued customers. Have you been enjoying yourselves with our sleek little 「Trinity」?

No? Is that so?

Well, of course not. That was just something to say. Complaint calls to our customer service center haven't let up one bit. Truly... a nation lives when its businesses live. So why are some consumers so determined to devour the very companies feeding them? A clear deficit of patriotism, no doubt.

Oh, now. Don't get worked up. We're not talking about you. We said "some" consumers. S-o-o-o-o-m-e. Ko-re-an can be a tricky language like that.

In any case, today marks our final 「Trinity」 introduction session. Let's talk about the last element of the trinity: the autonomous AI module.

The autonomous AI, defined simply, is a "complete personality." A thinking machine with a self. In other terms, a technologico-historical singularity. You know the one. That tired old trope science fiction has flogged to death for decades. The age where technology creates technology, machines rule humans, a killer robot from the future comes to murder some guy called John Whatever, and I'd scream but I haven't got a mouth. That one.[1]

The most baffling complaint calls we ever receive go like this: artificial intelligence will destroy humanity, therefore the Afterlife Insurance Central Control Center must be blown up. Good grief.

Rest easy, paranoid citizens. What you fear won't come to pass. Because the autonomous AI module is incomplete. Always has been. Always will be.

When our company received the state-contracted AI development project from the Afterlife Insurance Corporation, the original engineers who designed 「Trinity」 harbored an impossible dream. They were going to create the most perfect artificial intelligence the world had ever seen. To them, the TOM Reading Module and the Search AI Module were nothing more than stepping stones, tools toward completing the 「Final Module」, the one true AI.

But here's the thing. If so many people have wanted to build one for so long and nobody's managed it yet, surely there's a reason.

The original engineers claimed they had somehow managed to lay the foundations for something resembling an autonomous AI. That within the 「Final Module」, something unmistakably human existed. Verification was impossible, though. The thing was still about a million light-years from finished.

So they spoke as one:

"If you could just give us a little more time and budget..."

The higher-ups were deeply moved by this and promptly fired all of them. A natural outcome. Missing the deadline on a government project meant paying out enormous penalties. And there was no shortage of code monkeys to burn through.

The newly assigned engineers filed their report: 「Trinity」 was certainly incomplete, but even at its current level, it was the world's finest AI engine.

At which point the higher-ups said:

"What? Sounds finished to me."

And so the Afterlife Insurance program launched without a hitch. Happy ending.

All this pointless rambling has a reason: even I, the current system administrator, don't understand the autonomous module.

How do you explain something you don't understand?

It wasn't just me, either. Not one of my former colleagues could make sense of it. Something about it clearly functioned, but what that something was remained murky. And removing it wasn't an option. The entire engine shuts down if you try. The third module's influence had left the engine in a state nobody could interpret.

Perhaps the original designers could have managed it. To be honest, they were genuinely extraordinary. The finest minds in Korea.

So what are they doing now?

No idea. Probably frying chicken somewhere.[2]

That's how the employment contracts work. To prevent technological leakage, you can't take a job in the same field for twenty years after leaving. You can't change nationalities during that period, either.

Some of you may be wondering if I should be saying any of this. It's fine. As long as revenue keeps climbing, nobody cares what I say. This company runs on money, and Afterlife Insurance operating revenue has been exploding year after year.

Paradise Group Virtual Reality Division will continue to spare no effort in plundering your wallets, valued customers. Thank you.

#Journal, Page 76, Camp Roberts

The number of refugee volunteers was spiking fast. Part of it was genuine demand for manpower, but I couldn't shake the feeling it was also a check against the Gyeoul Alliance. Vice-Captain Min Wan-ki shared my read on it.

The majority were of Chinese origin. A large group to begin with, but even accounting for that, the proportion was strangely high. And they weren't from the Triad, which had long been the dominant force within the Black Society. Most came from the An Liang Chamber of Commerce and Industry, the Heshi Gang, and the Zhili Hall. Rumors pointed to Captain Markert as the one pulling strings. What Li Ailing had been dreading was beginning to look like reality. For now it was still their problem. But soon enough it would become ours too.

#Journal, Page 79, Camp Roberts

The weather had been foul for days. Winter brought heavy rain to this region.

The temperature kept dropping. The predawn cold, dipping below freezing, was grinding the refugees down.

A cold was spreading through the camp. Early on, we had isolated the sick. Now we isolated the healthy. Finding an entire tent packed with patients had become routine.

Under ordinary circumstances, a cold rarely kills. These weren't ordinary circumstances. People weakened by months of hardship were dying from secondary infections. Antibiotics had run out. The death toll climbed by the day. The military doctor worried it might not be a cold at all.

In the airdrops, food came first. Fuel and heating supplies second. Medicine rarely made it. Hard to understand. Medicine takes up almost no space. Shave a little from other cargo and there'd be room enough.

Turns out there was none to send. Captain Capston told me: on the eastern side of the containment line, civilians were hoarding medicine. He'd found out through a phone call with a friend in Boston.

Ordinary medicine has no effect on Morgellons. People must know this. But fear isn't a rational thing.

The Gyeoul Alliance was holding up better than most. Better nutrition, better hygiene than elsewhere. My only real concern was Vice-Captain Min. I went to the PX and bought as much food as I could carry. There were per-person purchase limits, but I had the merit benefits that came with my commendations. The combat team members felt bad about it and kept saying they'd chip in once their wages came. I told them not to worry. Staying healthy, I said, was help enough.

"Prophet Pastor Park Tae-sun heals the sick through prayer and blessing! Brothers and sisters, weary and burdened! Open your ears to the word of salvation!"

The Full Gospel Saints were out again today, fervent as ever.

The Saints, inexplicably, had not a single sick person among them. Not one cold patient.

They claimed Pastor Park had performed miracles. Drink the holy water he had blessed, they said, and even the gravest patient would recover within a day. An odd thing for a Protestant church to be peddling, holy water. But more and more people were getting swept up in the rumors. The number testifying to miracles kept growing. The congregation was expanding fast.

"Could they be mixing antibiotics into the water and calling it holy water?"

That was Vice-Captain Jang Yeon-cheol's theory. It had a ring of plausibility to it. Where they were getting the medicine was still a question I couldn't answer.

Either way, people cared about results. Even if someone was doctoring the water and calling it holy, there were people ready and willing to be deceived. A handful of defectors slipped away from the Gyeoul Alliance.

Procuring medicine kept bringing bad news. We had to go further and further out. A task force sent south of Paso Robles to the state hospital in Atascadero had gone completely missing. Twelve vehicles. Over a hundred people, including refugee volunteers.

The camp leadership was shaken. Every officer I passed wore the same dark expression. Manpower was already stretched thin, and no small number of the missing were American soldiers.

Even so, abandoning the mission wasn't an option.

Atascadero State Hospital had apparently served as a temporary CDC base. When the contamination of western North America began, it had functioned as a disease control headquarters overseeing twelve cities.

Abandoned now, obviously. But large quantities of medicine were said to remain there. According to the briefing, the CDC had confirmed this directly.

The battalion commander ordered me to conduct a reconnaissance in force in the area. Something was definitely there. Find out exactly what. Neutralize it if possible. Find survivors if there are any. A demanding set of orders. The commander laughed and said it would be easier than Santa Maria.

Fortunately, this wouldn't become the Gyeoul Alliance combat team's maiden mission. Even with his track record, the battalion commander wasn't about to hand an assignment like this to rookies. We'd receive manpower support from Captain Capston.

Unlike Santa Maria, we'd be moving by vehicle.

It was going to be a long trip.

#Omens (1), Camp Roberts

「There is something I need to tell you.」

Before setting out for Atascadero, Gyeoul stopped by the Alliance to check in. Gang Yeong-sun, the old woman, asked for a private word, away from other ears. Once they were seated somewhere quiet, she wrote the first line.

「Lee Hoon-tae is not actually hearing-impaired.」

Intelligence Correction pulled up Lee Hoon-tae's profile. The memory was faint, the image blurry along with it, but not so blurry that Gyeoul couldn't place the face. The personal file Gang Yeong-sun had provided listed the man as having a lame leg and no hearing.

"What does this mean? Are you saying he's been pretending to have a disability he doesn't have?"

When Gyeoul asked, the old woman moved her pen.

「Yes.」

「It was one of the means by which we survived.」

「People don't lower their voices around someone they think is deaf.」

Ah. Intelligence gathering. The moment she used the word "deaf" herself, the subject was obvious. Gyeoul tilted his head.

"I think I know why you're telling me this, but I should ask anyway."

「You're probably right.」

「I did suggest gathering information through the disabled.」

「Lee Hoon-tae can eavesdrop on everyone's conversations without raising a single person's suspicion.」

「But I couldn't keep this hidden from you, Captain.」

Gyeoul thought for a moment.

"Are you alright with this?"

A short question with a long reach. The old woman wrote calmly.

「Liu Bei had virtue and benevolence. But he did not achieve great things through virtue alone.」

Gyeoul rephrased his question.

"If this ever comes to light, Lee Hoon-tae will face an enormous amount of resentment. And it won't stop with him. People will start to distrust the other disabled members too. There could be reprisals. Have you never thought about how dangerous that is?"

「The weight of life is equal for everyone. Just as you risk danger and fight, Captain, those beneath you should do the same. Disabled or not. Each person's capabilities differ, that's all.」

「In the right circumstances, a disability can itself be a talent.」

She was someone who had thought long and deeply about the role of the disabled. Gyeoul sat with it for a moment, then gave a slow nod.

"Alright. But there's a condition."

The old woman looked up, a question in her eyes. Gyeoul made it plain.

"If it's ever discovered, say it was my order. No exceptions."

If blame fell on Gyeoul, there was room to smooth things over. He could frame it as a precaution against drugs or fanaticism. People would be dissatisfied, but they wouldn't dare confront him openly. There was no one in the Alliance who would challenge Gyeoul directly, anyway.

But the old woman shook her head.

「That is a deeply kind offer. Taking responsibility is the mark of a good leader. I was moved.」

「But there is no need.」

「Lee Hoon-tae is looking for a reason to live. Everyone will dislike what he does, but in the end it is for everyone's sake. He is helping you, Captain, and you are someone who gives everything for everyone. Your acknowledgment alone will be enough for him.」

Gyeoul thought it over one more time, then let out a quiet breath.

"Understood. Please tell him to always be careful."

「I will. He'll be glad.」

The old woman's composure told Gyeoul that Lee Hoon-tae himself would never approach him directly. Better to keep suspicious behavior to a minimum.

Sign language is essentially a code. It only works among the disabled, and even then, only among some of them.

'He shouldn't rely on this too heavily.'

That was Gyeoul's thought. The more varied the information channels, the better.

「Go safely, Captain.」

The old woman gave a modest bow. Gyeoul bowed lower in return. Respect for her age. Meaningless, perhaps. But given all the same.

Author’s Note

There's a cereal by Pulmuone called muesli.

Barley and cranberries mixed together.

Tastes fine, but impossibly hard. My teeth ached afterward.

After thinking it over, I decided to try boiling it.

The result was...

Well...

Don't try this at home.

It felt like a firsthand experience of a refugee camp. Even the time I boiled Ppusyeo Ppusyeo crackers wasn't this bad.

I couldn't bring myself to waste food, so I forced every last bite down.

Might be the death of me.

Footnotes:

[1] "I'd scream but I haven't got a mouth" is an allusion to Harlan Ellison's 1967 science fiction story "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream," in which a sadistic AI annihilates humanity and tortures the few survivors it keeps alive. The story is one of the genre's most famous AI horror parables. The irony here is that the AI narrator is listing it among tired SF cliches, fully aware that it is itself an AI, and perhaps the specific one mentioned in a previous Afterlife Insurance ad.

[2] In Korea, opening a small chicken shop (치킨집) has become cultural shorthand for what educated professionals do after their careers collapse. The joke is that the nation's finest engineers, legally barred from working in technology for two decades, were left with little recourse but to fall back on one of the most accessible forms of small business available to them.

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