Chapter Fifty-Four: The AC Organization

The three of them took the elevator down to the first floor. As they approached the front desk, Zhang Mingyang noticed that a large crowd had gathered outside. People were sitting on the ground, holding banners with their phones, chanting, “We want freedom, not deception.”

Seeing this, Zhang Mingyang patted Peng Dongli, who was standing beside him, and asked, “Senior, what’s going on?”

Peng Dongli glanced out the door and, suddenly understanding, said, “Oh, those are members of the AC Environmental Organization. They come to protest nearly every week—we’re all used to it by now.”

“AC Human Organization?”

Hearing the name, Zhang Mingyang felt a sense of familiarity, but he couldn't quite place it.

Peng Dongli explained, “They’re the same group who protested the human genome project at North China United University two years ago.”

“Oh, now I remember.”

Peng Dongli’s reminder brought back memories from two years prior. Back then, North China United University, in collaboration with the National Gene Bank, had finally conquered the thirty-year-long task of editing the human genome library. That very afternoon, thousands stormed the campus, waving banners against human experimentation and biological modification, spreading their message everywhere. They even barged into the biology research labs, causing chaos. If the police hadn’t intervened in time, the entire laboratory would have been destroyed.

He hadn’t expected to see this organization again, this time in front of the headquarters of Northern Group.

Zhang Mingyang asked, “Senior, do they come here often? Why do they protest at your company?”

Peng Dongli replied, “This goes back to a year ago, after the human genome project. Our company started working with the government on biological gene technology, researching genome sequences. Somehow, this group got wind of it, and the very next day, they showed up at our headquarters just like this, waving banners and protesting our research. It put us in a difficult position. If it weren’t for governmental support, your ‘Commander System’ would never have been completed.”

Tian Wenyuan, standing nearby, chimed in, “How come I’ve never heard of this organization? Is it that big?”

“It’s more than big!” Peng Dongli said, growing animated. “This organization has been around for nearly twenty years. They started as an environmental group, then moved on to anti-racial discrimination, then anti-science, and now they oppose human genome research. Their numbers have grown from a few hundred to millions, with members all over the world. At this rate, I suspect they'll soon start protesting themselves.”

Listening to Peng Dongli, Zhang Mingyang found it all a bit incredible. Environmentalism and anti-discrimination he could understand, but opposing scientific research? How did that make sense?

Peng Dongli explained, “With the advances in modern technology, automation and intelligence have gradually replaced manual work. This organization claims that technology is squeezing out human job opportunities, forcing many into unemployment. They demand the abolition of intelligent technologies, insisting that work and life should be returned to people.”

“That’s just ridiculous!” Tian Wenyuan exclaimed. “Science and technology serve humanity—how could they possibly oppress us? What sort of logic is that?”

At that moment, Zhang Mingyang suddenly recalled a line from “The Resource Game”: “With the exploitation of resources and progress of technology, humanity will wipe out the old society; but in turn, new technologies will wipe out the new humanity.”

Hearing this, Tian Wenyuan and Peng Dongli pondered the words, finding them deeply philosophical. They asked Zhang Mingyang who had said it.

“It’s from a book called ‘The Resource Game,’” Zhang Mingyang replied.

Neither Peng Dongli nor Tian Wenyuan had heard of the book. This only deepened Zhang Mingyang’s curiosity—he’d have to return to ask old Mr. Liu about its origins.

“Junior, when we get back to base, lend us that book sometime,” Peng Dongli said.

Zhang Mingyang nodded, promising to bring the book for them.

The three of them walked out the main doors, preparing to skirt the crowd sitting on the ground. But before they could move, a group quickly surrounded them, raising placards and chanting, “Stop the experiments! Give humanity space to survive!”

A dozen security guards rushed over and squeezed through the crowd to escort Zhang Mingyang and his companions out.

By the time they’d made it through, all three were drenched in sweat, and Zhang Mingyang’s shoe had nearly been trampled off.

“Let’s get moving, or they’ll be back again,” Tian Wenyuan urged.

With that, the three of them broke into a run.

...

They had no idea how far they’d run when Zhang Mingyang finally glanced back, saw no one following, and pulled the others to a stop.

Seeing his companions sweating and out of breath, Zhang Mingyang laughed. “This feels just like being chased by fans—completely surrounded.”

Tian Wenyuan, clutching his thigh and panting, looked at Zhang Mingyang, noticing that he hadn’t broken a sweat and looked completely unruffled.

“Junior, your stamina is impressive—not a drop of sweat, while the two of us are done for. Age is catching up; we can’t keep up anymore.”

Hearing this, Zhang Mingyang touched his forehead and, sure enough, found it dry. Odd. They must have run at least a kilometer, and in the past, even a few hundred meters would have left him soaked. What was different today?

Peng Dongli, however, had figured it out. “Looks like your ‘Commander’ system is at work.”

“You mean the microrobots, Senior?”

Peng Dongli caught his breath and nodded. “The microrobots must have detected the effect of the exercise on your body and autonomously intervened to regulate your physical state.”

Zhang Mingyang flexed his arm in surprise—he hadn’t expected these things to be so remarkable. He’d have to try running ten kilometers sometime to see what would happen.

“Oh, by the way, Senior Peng, didn’t you get the injection?”

Peng Dongli hesitated, then replied, “No, I didn’t. I don’t like the idea of machines in my body. It makes me feel like I won’t live long, as if I’m being transformed.”

Tian Wenyuan, standing nearby, laughed and asked, “Old Peng, do you think I could get the injection now?”

“Get out of here,” Peng Dongli said, giving Tian Wenyuan a kick. “Weren’t you the one who said you were afraid of the pain and didn’t want it?”

Tian Wenyuan grinned. “I didn’t know it was so incredible! If I’d known, I would have gotten it right away.”

“All right, all right,” Peng Dongli sighed. “Suddenly, I’m feeling a bit hungry. Want to go try some of Xiping’s specialties?”

At the mention of food, Tian Wenyuan perked up immediately. “Of course! It’s not every day we get out. But, Old Peng, it’s your treat.”

Peng Dongli gave him a sidelong glance. “Fine, I’ll pay. Let’s go.”