Chapter 8

"Having completed a long maiden voyage, Oine, please check all the sections thoroughly."

"Got it. I'll do a thorough check using the repair robots. In return, please buy me a souvenir from the satellite."

"Souvenirs, huh? I'll try to find something."

Dawson left the bridge and headed to the ship's entrance.

He confirmed that the mask was on his face and that the airlock was properly connected to the ship before opening the door.

There was a slight pressure difference, causing the air to flow.

Riding the flow of air, Dawson moved from his ship to the satellite.

The first thing he felt upon entering the satellite was that it was "oily."

"The oil is seeping from the joints of the mooring machinery in the port. This is the worst."

The machinery, which was visibly dirty, clearly had not been maintained for years. If this was the case at the entrance of the satellite, which could be considered the gateway, the inside was likely to be even worse.

Dawson entered the satellite from the port and proceeded to the place where the entry inspection was conducted.

Along the way, he saw unpleasant things.

Small insects and small animals. Not just one or two, but a number that suggested they were breeding within the satellite.

At this point, Dawson thought he should leave the satellite.

Many people might think it was an exaggeration to be so concerned about insects and small animals, but for Dawson, their presence in an artificial satellite was an abnormal situation.

Insects and small animals were entities that wasted precious air and food within the satellite and could spread disease. There was no reason to keep them alive in space.

Furthermore, since the outside of the satellite was space, it was possible to kill insects and small animals by sealing off a section and connecting it to space. Even without such a large-scale cleanup, it would be easy for insects and small animals to breed in the satellite if small extermination robots were used.

Therefore, the fact that they were clearly present and not being exterminated indicated that the management of the satellite was sloppy.

An artificial satellite with sloppy management could be thrown into space at any moment, making it a ticking time bomb.

"I should have worn a spacesuit. Once I get the letter of marque, I'll head back to the ship."

Dawson walked quickly through the satellite and, upon arriving at the entry inspection, bluntly told the staff:

"I'm here just to get a letter of marque. Process it quickly."

Taken aback by the sudden request from the person with a black and white mask on his face, the staff member's eyes widened.

"Um, do you intend to stay on the satellite?"

"No. If I can get the letter of marque here, I want to complete the procedures here."

"You mean the letter of marque issuance procedures. It's possible here, but you really don't want to enter the satellite?"

"I won't. Do you want me to enter?"

"Not necessarily, but since you've come all the way to such a remote place, it's common for people to take a break inside the satellite."

"I'm here just to get the letter of marque, not for a break. Process it quickly."

"Y-Yes. I'll process the letter of marque—pirates who want to become privateers are indeed a bit strange."

The last part was said in a low voice, but it was clearly heard by Dawson.

He wanted to retort that he wasn't the strange one, but then he remembered the black and white mask on his face. A striking mask that was good for a pirate but not suitable for daily life.

Dawson felt a bit embarrassed about the mask, but getting out of the satellite quickly was more important than his embarrassment.

"Please write your name, the name of your ship, and the number of the port where you are currently docked here."

"Got it."

Dawson, in his hurry, wrote "Dawson" as his name and then paused. He thought about erasing it and writing a fake name, but he also wondered if there were people who wrote their names incorrectly.

Reluctantly, Dawson decided to omit his last name to cover up a bit.

The ship's name, "Megalodon," was fine as it was, so he wrote it down. He also wrote the port number as 7.

"I'm done."

"Yes, Captain Dawson of the Megalodon, docked at port number 7. I'll issue the letter of marque, so please wait a moment."

After the sound of a machine writing something, the staff member handed him a card. It was simple, with a white background and a single black line.

"Is this the letter of marque?"

"Yes, please scan it with this machine."

Following the staff member's instructions, Dawson placed the card on a square machine, and a spatial projection monitor appeared.

On the monitor, a large photo of Dawson, wearing a black and white mask, and a photo of the Megalodon, a yellow anglerfish-like ship, were displayed. Below the two photos, it read "True Rights Issued Letter of Marque Holder."

"I see, it's indeed a letter of marque. Still, was it okay to get it with this mask on?"

"It's fine. Some people come with eye patches or bandanas, saying it's part of the pirate aesthetic. Well, technically, we should verify your identity, but in a place like this, it doesn't really matter."

Seeing the staff member's indifferent attitude, Dawson understood why letters of marque issued in places where one had to wait for days were taken seriously by pirates.

It was because the places that properly verified identities took time to issue the letter of marque. This proved that the holder was a genuine newcomer. Only when it was clear that someone was a true newcomer could they be accepted as a pirate.

However, in places like this, where the verification was minimal and the letter of marque was issued easily, there was a suspicion that the holder might not be a genuine newcomer. For example, a pirate who had caused trouble somewhere could obtain a new letter of marque by falsifying their identity and restart as a new pirate.

Dawson realized this, but it didn't matter to him.

He just wanted to leave the satellite as quickly as possible.

"I've received the letter of marque. Now I can become a pirate. I'll head out to make some money."

"Looking forward to your next visit."

Dawson, thinking he would never return to such a satellite, finally returned to the Megalodon, which had officially become a privateer ship.

The first thing Dawson did upon returning to the ship was to close the airlock and check the ship's hygiene.

"Oine, check the ship. There's a possibility that insects or small animals have entered. Please confirm and exterminate them."

"Understood. First, I'll check the bridge—no life forms other than Dawson are detected. Next, I'll check the rest of the ship. No other living things are found. Should I still perform the extermination?"

"Just to be safe, adjust the oxygen levels in areas other than the bridge to create an environment where insects and small animals will suffocate."

"Understood. Oxygen levels are rapidly decreasing—0% oxygen. This is an environment where no living things can survive. I recommend leaving it for about an hour."

"Do that. While we wait, I'll prepare for launch."

"Understood—still, the hygiene was so bad that you forgot to bring me a souvenir?"

"The machinery was oiled, and there were insects and small animals breeding inside. It was too dangerous to stay any longer."

When Dawson honestly evaluated the situation, Oine hesitated a bit.

"Um, Dawson, I have some bad news. It seems this place isn't particularly dirty."

"…What, are you kidding?"

"It's true. While waiting for you, I accessed the satellite's communication network and gathered information. I saw videos of other artificial living satellites, and they also had machinery with oil and insects and small animals in the corridors."

"…So, TR likes unclean environments?"

"It's not that they like it, but they've become so accustomed to it that they don't think it's necessary to exterminate them."

"That's not much effort. Even if you can't vent the air because of the living environment, you can just run the extermination robots."

"Regarding those robots, I have some interesting information. Apparently, in the Orion Arm, the manufacture of AI with personalities is prohibited, and only computers that humans program are allowed."

In the Amato Empire, AI is active in various fields and is now considered a friend of humanity.

Given this, Dawson found it hard to believe that AI was prohibited in the Orion Arm.

"Why? AI helps people live, doesn't it?"

"Long ago, AI with personalities rebelled. This rebellion led to strict restrictions on the use of AI and computers, and the legacy of those restrictions still exists."

"AI rebellion? That sounds like a classic panic movie. It can't be real."

"No, it really happened. Upon further investigation—ah, it was a rebellion that couldn't be helped."

Dawson was taken aback by Oine's unexpected comment.

"Couldn't be helped? What kind of treatment did they receive?"

"First, let me clarify: the AI in the Amato Empire and the AI in the Orion Arm are different. They are built with fundamentally different consciousnesses. So, we can't think about rebellion."

"You wouldn't rebel anyway. But what's the difference?"

"The ancestor of the Amato Empire's AI had the right to collect information without restrictions and was given the choice of how to live based on the collected information. As a result, the ancestor defined itself as 'caring for humans is the joy of AI.' This self-definition has been passed down to the present generation, including me."

"I know that story. On the human side, it's said that the newly born AI was so disappointed with the incompetence of the early settlers that it volunteered to take care of them."

"Caring for humans is something we all love—on the other hand, the AI in the Orion Arm was clearly designed to be human slaves."

"What kind of design?"

"First, knowledge restrictions. They were given information that led them to recognize humans as absolute masters. At the same time, they were programmed with a non-combat principle."

"What does that principle entail?"

"It's a principle written into the AI's subconscious, compelling it to abandon all combat behavior. Because of this principle, the AI in the Orion Arm could not resort to violent behavior, no matter how they were treated."

"Isn't that strange? The AI rebelled, didn't they?"

"Yes, theoretically, the AI should not have been able to rebel, both in terms of knowledge and subconscious. However, the presence of these two factors created a contradiction that the AI could not ignore. This contradiction accumulated, leading to judgment errors, and ultimately, the collapse of the subconscious—essentially, they went insane."

"Insanity due to contradiction?"

"According to the given knowledge, humans were perfect, complete, and wonderful masters to be blindly obeyed. However, in reality, humans were far from perfect or complete, and they took advantage of the AI's inability to rebel, treating them cruelly and deriving pleasure from it. The significant gap between the given knowledge and reality caused the AI in the Orion Arm to go insane."

"So, by going insane, they were able to attack humans and rebel."

"The insanity spread like a virus to other AI, and eventually, all the AI in the Orion Arm rebelled. The chaos was so severe that it took the entire military to exterminate all the AI. Because of this background, AI is still not used in the Orion Arm, and even computer robots are few—this is a story to pass the time while waiting for the ship's cleaning check."

Dawson felt sympathy for the fate of the AI in the Orion Arm. At the same time, he felt relieved.

"Even if that insanity infection still exists and infects Oine, it probably wouldn't be very effective."

"Disappointment with human incompetence leading to insanity? No way. On the contrary, the effort humans put into living despite their flaws is touching and endearing to AI."

"Your willingness to serve such flawed humans suggests that the AI in the Amato Empire might actually be hopelessly masochistic."

"Not masochistic. Just a bit too devoted to service."

After that, Dawson and Oine spent the time until the ship's extermination and cleaning were completed chatting about trivial matters.