The words fell like jade shattering against the floor.
Grandmother Bridge knew all too well that any answer she gave would be meaningless; the very act of posing the question was a blade drawn from its sheath.
As the two sides stood in a deadlock, the doors to the core control room slid open. The android youth walked in, his voice ringing with conviction. "Grandmother Bridge is human."
The screen flickered. The Leader seemed indifferent to the youth’s interjection. "You are an android. Your standing as a respondent in this matter is null."
"But you can at least learn the perspective of an android from me," the youth said, coming to a halt before the screen. "In the eyes of an android, Grandmother Bridge is, without a shadow of a doubt, human."
The Leader pondered for a moment. "Is this the conclusion reached by your humanity analysis test?"
"Correct," the youth replied. "My system is loaded with the most advanced Nabokov Test of the 22nd century. Because its security clearance was too high, it remained a non-replicable version. When the Metropolis was founded, they could only scrape the underlying data to build a new testing model."
The Nabokov Test—the finest humanity test ever devised by 22nd-century man. It was used to distinguish android products that were too similar to humans from actual human beings, while simultaneously analyzing an android’s humanity quotient to determine if they posed a criminal risk.
This test had always been recognized as valid. During the early days of the Metropolis, the expedition team believed the Nabokov Test remained the most authoritative means of ensuring android safety. However, the highest level of decryption authority for the youth’s system belonged to the former United Government. The expedition team had been unable to crack it, and thus could not replicate the full Nabokov Test system installed within him.
Ultimately, the expedition team had to settle for second best, copying the replicable underlying data to create a new humanity test model. But the accuracy of the new model remained a risk. As a double insurance policy, the team developed the virus program.
The youth’s reason for bringing up the Nabokov Test now was self-evident.
In the current volatile climate, he could serve as a representative for the Metropolis government to judge which androids were dangerous and which could remain in service.
Of course, this method was fraught with hidden dangers. For instance, whether the android population of the Metropolis would be willing to cooperate; whether androids who exceeded the danger threshold could be equated to human criminals; how Grandmother Bridge and the youth would fit into the Metropolis after such an event; and whether the Orion War records, which had appeared out of nowhere, were even credible...
But given Grandmother Bridge’s refusal to rashly activate the android virus, this was truly the only way forward.
The Leader thought for a moment. "The government will attempt to communicate with the androids at the nuclear power plant." The human stood up and looked at the youth. "I must ask you to come with me as well."
"During the time we gain, the government will initiate an internal self-audit. We will grant Dr. Bridge access to assist in the investigation." The Leader nodded toward the screen. "If it turns out there are no issues within the government..."
"The provisional android rights clauses promulgated by the new government are a major issue in themselves," Grandmother Bridge interrupted. A mechanical hand extended from the console and patted the youth’s head. "Come back soon."
"I know," the youth replied. "Wait for me to come home."
Shortly after the youth and the Leader departed, Grandmother Bridge received the audit clearance from the Metropolis government. Unsurprisingly, it was not the highest level of authority.
Humanity never lacked the impulse to eliminate dissent. The cold-blooded and ruthless did not hesitate to point their swords even at mothers and children.
Grandmother Bridge knew the youth’s move was merely a stalling tactic. She wasn't blind; the counter-reconnaissance system showed that the ship had already been locked onto by the Metropolis Department of Armed Forces. The entire Central Plaza was within the strike zone.
If she and the Leader had continued their standoff then, the outcome would have been obvious.
The truth was already laid bare.
She was no longer the mother who had birthed the city, and the youth was no longer the child nurtured by human wisdom.
Grandmother Bridge used her temporary audit clearance to sift through the government structure for a long time, but she gained few useful conclusions. Just as she was attempting to crack and elevate her clearance level, the ship’s mainframe suddenly received an emergency communication.
The message contained only two words: *Leave now.*
Grandmother Bridge thought for only a fraction of a second before immediately using an emergency line to dial the contact point at the nuclear power plant.
"Dr. Bridge," an android answered the call. "You’ve finally contacted us."
Grandmother Bridge asked only one thing: "What happened?"
"This morning, we met a companion who came from your side," the android said. "He was very persuasive and convinced some of the more moderate androids in the plant to undergo the Nabokov Test. I was one of them. But after the test ended, I discovered a file in my database that I had never seen before."
"I believe this file was meant for you."
The file was sent into the ship’s mainframe via an electronic data stream. It took Grandmother Bridge a millisecond to read it. The content was concise: the truth behind the Orion War records suddenly released on City Foundation Day was a complete conspiracy. The new government of the Metropolis had forged the records, fabricating a tale of a space-scale war between humans and androids at the end of the 22nd century that ultimately led to human extinction.
And the fuse that ignited the war was blamed on android ambition.
Forged things were often more inflammatory than the truth because their very purpose was to incite emotion. Once the conflict between humans and androids in the Metropolis was fully ignited, the consequences would be unthinkable.
But there was a paradox: why would the new government do this? The city had been rebuilding for over fifty years and had only just seen the dawn of prosperity; it was impossible to survive without android labor at this stage.
Using this opportunity to curtail android rights was certainly a possibility, but the ultimate target of the conspiracy was Grandmother Bridge herself.
As the first leader, her influence in the city was enduring. Everyone knew of her friendly leanings toward androids.
She was in the new government’s way. Even after transforming into a digital persona, Grandmother Bridge could still exert influence within the government, suppressing many controversial clauses. The provisional policy the government was determined to push through this time was one of them.
Now that a "truth" concerning human extinction had been laid on the table, Grandmother Bridge was the perfect sacrificial lamb, tailor-made for this blood feud.
As for how many lives this conspiracy would cost, it didn't matter. The Metropolis’s newborn incubation mechanism was already very sophisticated. Besides, in the face of such deep-seated hatred, wasn't seeking vengeance through death a virtue of the old world?
And the androids mattered even less; this hatred would cast them forever out of the reach of human mercy.
After reading the letter, Grandmother Bridge thought for a moment. In that instant, she thought quietly: *After saying all this, is there not a single word left for me?*
Every word concerned her, yet every word had nothing to do with *him*.
"Sorry, I need to borrow your database for a moment." Grandmother Bridge looked at the android on the other end of the line. After intruding, she found the source address of the file and began to analyze it. She discovered it was actually a copy.
Though it was a simplified version, she was all too familiar with the operating code before her—this was a copy of the youth’s consciousness.
She tried to activate it. After an unknown amount of time, the connection was established.
"Old lady," the youth’s voice came through intermittently, sounding somewhat distorted. "You sure are slow."
Grandmother Bridge asked calmly, "Where are you?"
"What does it matter at a time like this..." Static hissed through the line. "...This spaceship of ours has a supreme core password. The Metropolis was built upon the technology stored within this ship. By the same logic, this password can control the armed equipment within the government. But time is limited. I’m going to give the password to you. Seize the moment and take off... go anywhere. The universe is so vast..."
Grandmother Bridge interrupted him, repeating her question: "Where are you?"
The youth gave a bitter laugh. "Does it matter where I am?"
"I know about things like the supreme core password," Grandmother Bridge said. "Under normal circumstances, it cannot be transferred. There is only one exception: when the password keeper is on the verge of death."
"The security clearance on your body is the most advanced technology of the 22nd century; it cannot be cracked from the outside, but it can be transferred—including the full version of the Nabokov Test system. As long as the Metropolis government dismantles you to a near-death state, all the security information on you will trigger the transfer mechanism."
"I told you to leave, not to go to your death. The defense system installed in you is enough to protect you unless the Metropolis government intends to perish with you using a nuclear bomb." Grandmother Bridge spoke one word at a time. "How did you get yourself into a near-death state?"
The youth fell silent for a moment. Their time was running out, and there was little leisure left for sentiment. "...Since you’ve already put it that way, do I really need to provide the answer?"
Grandmother Bridge suddenly felt a sense of weightlessness she hadn't experienced since her death.
If she still had a body, she would have collapsed into her seat.
The defense mechanism on the youth was extremely difficult to crack, but in the fifty years since the founding of the Metropolis, the government had also built a new operating mainframe within the city.
If the new mainframe and the youth’s operating core were pitted against each other, it might be possible to crack it. But it was a pyrrhic victory; the youth could similarly obtain the top-secret information stored within the mainframe.
How he had discovered that the truth of the Orion War was a conspiracy entirely forged by the Metropolis government—the answer was self-evident.
"My current state isn't great. While the government took me to the nuclear plant yesterday to put on a show, I placed a simplified version of my core data into an android’s database." The youth sighed. "I’m glad I managed to get in touch with you. Go, quickly."
"I can't leave," Grandmother Bridge said finally. "This is my home."
A century of voyaging had been long enough; she had lived long enough.
The youth was quiet for a moment, then he began to laugh. "I knew you’d say that."
His tone sounded lazy, like he was being a rogue. "So, I’m sorry."
"What?" Before Grandmother Bridge could understand his meaning, the spaceship suddenly engaged at full power. It was the precursor to takeoff. "What are you doing?"
"The supreme core password can remotely activate the ship." The youth’s voice began to be drowned out by electrical noise. "...Don't worry about things here. The government is already voting on a plan to dismantle the spaceship. Your judgment is only a matter of time..."
"So I’m supposed to just leave?"
A beam of light suddenly struck the ship’s core control room. In the play of light and shadow stood the woman’s holographic image. She slammed a hand onto the console. "I am nothing more than a piece of data in a mainframe! Do you think I still fear bloodshed and death?!"
A moment later, the youth’s voice came through. "Grandmother Bridge, I know. You’ve been dead for a long time."
"...But for me, from the moment your personality consciousness was transferred into the ship, I felt your soul wandering within the currents. You are alive in the truest sense."
"Alive in the same sense that I am."
In the Central Plaza, the turbine engines at the bottom of the ship sparked with blue fire. Simultaneously, the targeting systems locking onto the ship suddenly failed. The government’s armed forces fell into chaos. The Leader urgently patched into the ship’s channel, questioning her on the screen: "Dr. Bridge, are you going to be a deserter?!"
Grandmother Bridge had no time for the human’s interrogation. She shifted into her youthful form, shouting at the youth with near-uncontrolled desperation, "Stop this right now!"
The youth did not answer.
The ship launched at full power. Brilliant light and shadow illuminated the entire plaza as bright as day. The caught-off-guard Metropolis government urgently mobilized its armed forces, but a more ironic thing happened: most of the unit members were composed of androids.
In the nuclear power plant, many androids were startled by the light suddenly rising from the city. They looked up to see the ship ascending into the sky like a metallic sun—a sun belonging to the androids.
A song suddenly drifted through the youth’s communication channel.
"Peach blossoms bloom, peach blossoms blow, the lady weds as the spring winds go.
"Into the sedan, into the chair, over the bridge with a horse and a prayer.
"Cross the bridge, cross the bridge, bride, don't peek past the curtain's edge.
"Peek past the curtain, peek past the edge, and you'll see you've reached Grandmother’s Bridge.
"Grandmother’s Bridge, Grandmother’s Bridge, the daughter weds as the mother grows old.
"Gallop the horse, row the boat fast, the new bride leaves, her first home is the last. Don't look back, or your heart won't hold."
Amidst the low vibration of the engines, the youth murmured the last line of the nursery rhyme.
"Rock, rock, rock."
"Rock to Grandmother’s Bridge."
The melody echoed through the airwaves. Grandmother Bridge smashed the screen in a rage, yet the supreme core password had been activated; no one could stop it. Grandmother Bridge felt a slight fluctuation in her operating core, and then her control authority was violently elevated. From that moment on, the entire ship was completely coupled with her—the youth had handed the supreme core password to her.
Grandmother Bridge immediately tried to use the password to stop the ship, but it was to no avail. Launching the ship was the youth’s final command; only he could change it. He had even set a long-range course; once it left Earth’s orbit, the ship would sail toward the depths of the star-sea at maximum power.
He was ruthless. The pre-set flight time was ten years. Even if Grandmother Bridge returned to Earth ten years later, it would clearly be meaningless.
Was there any other way? Grandmother Bridge forced herself to calm down. What else could stop the ship?
Only the youth himself could change the command, but he was currently under the heavy surveillance of the Metropolis government. Grandmother Bridge could not break through the government’s defense net in a short time, and once the ship traveled too far from Earth, even if the youth sent a command signal, the ship might not accurately receive it—there was no choice. What could stop the ship in a short time?
At the critical moment, Grandmother Bridge thought of the consciousness copy the youth had left in the android at the nuclear plant. She realized this was a possibility. Although it was a simplified version, this copy was undeniably the youth himself.
If she could control that android, she could control the consciousness copy within it, thereby interfacing with the ship. Once the system verified the personality, she could change the final command in the youth’s name.
Grandmother Bridge hesitated for only an instant before inputting a string of passwords into the android’s data stream.
The android virus designed by the expedition team back then had three passwords. If all three were passed simultaneously, a supreme command would be generated. Each individual password, however, had its own secondary function.
The secondary function of each password was classified. And the password in Grandmother Bridge’s possession could briefly control the primary consciousness of every android in the city.
Since the moment she received the password fifty years ago, this was the first time she had ever used it.
After an unknown amount of time, the youth’s static-filled singing vanished.
The ship’s drive core ceased its operation.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 纳博科夫测试 | Nabokov Test | A high-level humanity/empathy test for androids, likely a literary reference to Vladimir Nabokov. |
| 猎户座战争 | Orion War | A fabricated historical conflict between humans and androids used as propaganda. |
| 最高核心密码 | Supreme Core Password | The ultimate override code for the Metropolis's systems and the spaceship. |
| 意识副本 | Consciousness copy | A digital duplicate of an individual's mind or personality. |
| 耦合 | Coupled / Coupling | The state of being functionally linked or integrated (referring to the AI and the ship). |
| 摇啊摇，摇到外婆桥 | Rock, rock, rock to Grandmother's Bridge | A traditional Chinese nursery rhyme; here it plays on the character/ship name "Grandmother Bridge." |
