Deep Sea Embers
chapter-688

Lucretia brought in a paper tape from the “Luminous Body Research Station” containing a recently captured strange signal, along with the original signal detected by the Bright Star observatory. Duncan examined the recordings for several minutes but soon admitted his confusion.

“I just can’t make sense of these,” he said, feeling overwhelmed. Deciphering such complex, abstract signals was typically a job for experienced experts and academics, who themselves were puzzled by these signals.

“These seem to be just erratic changes in intensity,” observed Morris, examining the paper tape spread across the table near the window. He scrutinized the random fluctuations on the graph, attempting to discern a pattern. “We could try to represent the intensity of each fluctuation with numbers or different lengths of gaps. But it’s like a cryptic code. Without a specific key for decryption, it’s impossible to understand these fluctuations.”

“Since these signals were first captured, researchers have tried various translations,” Lucretia added. “They’ve been converted into audio, which sounds like a continuous, low drone or murmur when played back as electrical signals. But they seem to contain no meaningful content. Visual attempts have also been made, but they’ve led nowhere.”

Listening quietly, Duncan suddenly suggested, “Could these signals be some kind of ‘internal communication’ used by the ‘glowing object’ of Vision 001 to communicate with its other structures?”

Lucretia nodded. “It’s a possibility we can’t ignore. The station has very sensitive secondary recording devices. Lately, weak signals have also been picked up from the direction of Vision 001’s main structure. It seems likely that the ‘glowing object’ near Wind Harbor’s port is still communicating with Vision 001’s primary structure…”

“The timing of these signals corresponds with the sun’s disappearance,” Morris added thoughtfully. “The first signal appeared after the sun vanished, and the second just before. Despite being identical, they seem to be some kind of ‘warning’…”

Duncan didn’t reply. He moved to the window, deep in thought, staring at the cityscape outside.

The city was shrouded in an unnatural “twilight.” Even though the sun had gone out, some force from Vision 001 prevented true dawn from breaking, creating an early “nightfall.” The sky was dark, yet a dim golden “sunlight” shone from the coast, casting both beautiful and eerie light across the city. Gas lamps on the streets and alleys were lit prematurely, yet the streets were empty. Only occasionally, patrols of guardians and steam walkers quickly crossed intersections, their lights scanning the vacant streets, a mix of vigilance and caution in their movements.

The city was wrapped in a profound, unsettling silence, with a palpable tension and oppression in the air, heightened by the dim light. Even the slightest noise from outside seemed to startle people.

From the corner of the room, Alice, curious, reached for the stack of paper tapes on the table and began flipping through them, though their content was beyond her understanding.

Elsewhere in the room, Shirley and Dog were sprawled in front of another window, both looking out in a shared vigil. Behind them, Nina stood, murmuring softly.

Breaking the silence, Duncan said, “The situations in Pland and Frost remain stable. We quickly restored order after our last ordeal, but the anxiety from this second sun disappearance is intense in the city,” he noted. “And, like before, we’ve lost contact with the other city-states.”

“The situation is slightly different this time,” Vanna interrupted. “Four cathedral ships are docked at Wind Harbor. Influenced by the ‘glowing object’, they stayed on ‘this side’ after the sun vanished. Order has been reestablished on each ship. It seems that Pope Lune has activated some observation and research facilities on the Academy Ark, gathering data on the environmental changes in the real world since the sun disappeared…”

“I hope he finds something useful,” Duncan sighed, his voice lacking optimism. “But honestly, I’m not getting my hopes up. Vision 001 has loomed over this world for ten thousand years. Probably only the ancient Crete Kingdom or the Nether Lord, who is said to have triggered the ‘Third Long Night’, might truly understand what that thing is…”

Before Duncan could finish, a panicked shout from Alice cut through the room: “Captain! Captain, help! It’s tangled!”

Turning around, Duncan saw Alice entangled in a heap of paper tapes, which wrapped around her head and arms. The naive girl blinked innocently amid the mess of paper, standing still as if afraid to damage the delicate tapes.

“How did you manage that?!” Duncan exclaimed, his voice a mix of annoyance and amusement. He went over to help Alice, carefully unwinding the paper tapes from her. “How on earth did you get tangled in these?”

“I don’t know!” Alice protested earnestly. “I was just trying to see how long this paper tape was, and I couldn’t find the end. Before I knew it, it had all tangled up…”

With a sigh, Duncan advised, “Try not to mess with these, okay? These tapes are important.”

“Oh…” Alice responded, slightly disappointed. She watched as Duncan carefully repacked the paper tapes, looking like a cat that had lost its ball of yarn. But soon her spirits lifted, and she approached Duncan with a new question. “By the way, Captain, what is an ‘Observer Effect Stability Anchor’?”

As Duncan was putting the tapes back into their box, he stopped abruptly, causing silence to fall over the room. Alice’s innocent question had clearly struck a chord.

After a brief, tense pause, Duncan turned towards Alice, his expression serious. “What did you just say?” he asked, his voice a blend of curiosity and concern.

Alice, startled by Duncan’s serious tone, worried she might have caused trouble again. “Observer… Observer Effect Stability Anchor… Did I say something wrong?” she asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.

“Why did you mention that suddenly?” Duncan asked, setting the paper tapes aside and stepping closer to Alice. He softened his tone, seeing her anxious expression, and tried to reassure her. “Don’t be scared, you haven’t done anything wrong, but you just mentioned a very… unusual concept.”

Alice looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, gradually calming under his reassuring gaze. She glanced around as if she could see something others couldn’t, and casually remarked, “Observer Effect Stability Anchor malfunction, error code E-C6-305, ‘Star Crown’ damaged, main system rebooting, reboot time unknown…”

Lucretia, who had been quietly observing, suddenly sprang into action. She approached Alice quickly and pointed at the recorded paper tapes on the table. “Did you get this information from these tapes? Is this what they recorded?” she asked urgently.

“No,” Alice replied, shaking her head in a childlike manner. “I don’t understand the messy curves on these paper strips, but there are signs of the Observer Effect Stability Anchor malfunction all around us… Huh? You can’t see them?”

It seemed as though the doll had an epiphany at that moment, her expression shifting to one of amazement and surprise, reminiscent of when she first realized that “ordinary people” couldn’t perceive the drifting soul lines that were so apparent to her.

Duncan’s attention moved from Alice to the window, where the “sunlight” filtered through the city’s architecture, weakened yet persistent. This light emanated from the massive glowing object over the sea. Despite the dilution caused by the cityscape and distance, the spectral information it carried didn’t just disappear; it spread through the air, permeating the city.

In Alice’s perception, these signals were omnipresent.

“So, you can directly perceive the signals emitted by that ‘glowing object’,” Duncan mused, turning his gaze back from the window to Alice. “What do they… look like to you?”

Alice seemed puzzled by the question, scratching her head in thought. “I can’t really explain it,” she admitted. “And I’m not sure if it counts as ‘seeing’… I just sense something in the light, and then their meaning just comes to me—oh, although Goathead says I don’t have a brain…”

Morris joined the group, his gaze intently fixed on Alice. “Then why didn’t you mention this earlier?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

Alice replied more confidently this time, “You didn’t ask! And I thought you all could see it too!”

This revelation led to a silent exchange of glances among everyone in the living room. It was evident they were all pondering the same thing: the “lines” that Alice perceived and had assumed were visible to everyone.

But Duncan’s thoughts went deeper.

He remembered the small, black-feathered bird, the Madbird, that Pope Lune had brought to their meeting. He also thought of the painting Alice had made, where she insisted on adding “lines” to every figure, a detail that had seemed odd at the time.

Alice seemed to become uneasy, sensing her difference from the others. After her initial confidence, she realized she might have made a mistake. She instinctively moved closer to Duncan, her posture shrinking as if to make herself smaller. “I didn’t know at first…”

“Different observers perceive different worlds,” Duncan said, breaking the contemplative silence. “For Alice, the world has always looked different than it does for us. She considered this normal and never thought to confirm with us how we see the world.” He turned to Alice and gently patted her hair, reassuring her. “Don’t be nervous, you haven’t done anything wrong, and actually, you’ve been incredibly helpful. Alice, you’ve seen information that we were blind to…”

As he comforted the doll, his touch helped her gradually relax. His gaze then drifted out the window, piercing through the dense urban landscape to the motionless sun hanging over the sea.

In his mind, he pondered the concept Alice had inadvertently revealed – Vision 001, the Observer Effect Stability Anchor.