400-619-1014
来自大卫·瑞雷先生的《2121》系列占星科幻小说，以下是全英文的版本。阅读中文版请移步：2121丨第一章
Two handsome men who appeared to be in their early thirties and an attractive slightly older, woman wearing glasses, walked towards Xingjia. Taken aback, Xingjia tried to hide her puzzlement.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Wang,” the woman greeted – extending her hand. Smiling graciously to hide her amusement at Xingjia’s confusion, she began to make introductions.
“This is Dr. Li.” Xingjia shook his hand, as her now knowing but disbelieving eyes turned away from Dr. Li to face the other man.
“And I’m not a doctor,” the other man said, smiling slightly, “at least not yet.” Xingjia, dropped her hand from the handshake with the doctor. Her knees were trembling slightly. Her mind saying, this is him… this is him… He was slightly tall, well proportioned, somewhat athletic looking, handsome – yes, but something in his eyes was unexpected, sympathetic, attentive and impossibly familiar.
“… my name is Huang Bei,” he said, breaking the awkward silence.
“Huang… Bei?” Xingjia repeated, puzzled by his given name.
“Bei, yes, I know it’s different, but I chose it because it means ‘north.’ Like the needle on a compass, you know, providing direction…” Dr. Wang and Dr. Li both seemed amused - chuckling as Xingjia extended her hand, “I’m Xingjia, Zhou Xingjia,” she said, quickly adding, “providing direction for whom?” She noticed his hand was warm and firm.
“What? Oh? I don’t know? I wasn’t thinking of it like that. There’s just something reassuring about a compass.”
“Unless you’re close to magnetic north,” Xingjia countered, wondering why she was saying this even as she said it, “then the compass needle just spins round and round aimlessly.”
Huang Bei laughed, it was a warm laugh, a good laugh. Xingjia hated how much she liked his laugh.
Dr. Wang intervened, “Xingjia, Dr. Li and I are going to leave you and Bei alone, now… so you can begin to get to know each other better. You know, we are looking forward to reading your relationship journal. From both of you.”
“Both of us, right…” Xingjia repeated, seeming slightly distracted, as she tried not to look at Bei.
“Yes, remember? All couples are asked to provide a relationship journal. You don’t have to divulge anything you’re not comfortable with; we respect your privacy of course.”
“Yes,” Xingjia replied, “yes, of course, I know.”
“We understand that this is a new experience for you, for both of you… It’s okay to feel nervous at first,” Dr. Wang reassured.
“Think of it as a first date,” Dr. Li added.
“Or, whatever?” Dr. Wang countered, glancing at Dr. Li disapprovingly. “Of course, you’ll need to contact our counseling services within 3-days; you’re automatically registered. I know you’re familiar with the protocol.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Xingjia replied, “I helped write some of the upgrades.”
“Xingjia works in our humanistic counseling development department,” Dr. Wang reminded Dr. Li. “Okay, well, we’ll leave you two alone now.”
“Goodbye, Bei” Dr. Wang said warmly.
“I’ll beat you next time,” Dr. Li said to Bei, pointing at him as he left.
Xingjia and Bei watched them walk away. “Beat you at what?” Xingjia asked.
“Ping pong,” Bei replied.
“Oh,” Xingjia remarked, unable to hide her nervousness.
“Listen, we can do whatever you like?” Bei said reassuringly. “We don’t have to hang around here. There’s a park less than three blocks away, out of the south entrance.”
“Okay, sure, why not,” Xingjia replied.
On the crowded elevator on the way down, Xingjia noticed a group of teenage girls that were part of a tour of BHAI. They were eyeing Bei, and giggling. Bei turned around and smiled at them. They giggled more. Xingjia shook her head disbelievingly. “Were you flirting with those girls?” she asked, as they got off the elevator.
“Look at me,” Bei said. Xingjia stopped and looked questioningly at him. “Look at my neck,” he asked, “do you see a bolt sticking out of my neck?”
“What?” She asked.
“Do you see a bolt sticking out of my neck?” he asked again.
“No,” she replied, trying to grasp his meaning.
“Good. I thought maybe that’s what they were laughing at.” Bei said, suddenly grinning, and walking away towards the exit, laughing.
Xingjia was stunned. This guy, this – whatever he was – had a sense of humor. He had a sense of humor! She just stood there, smiling, watching him walk away for a few more seconds.
He held the door for her smiling as they stepped outside.
Huang Bei was technically only 78 days old on February 27, 2121, the day that he and Xingjia met, and went for a stroll in the park. Though his many android and AI features were manufactured and installed at earlier dates and times, he was awakened on December 11, 2120 at 10:25 PM in Kunshan, China. The date and time of his awakening was chosen for astrological reasons. Though his astro-algorithmic patterning was designed to match Xingjia’s AstroPsychology companion profile, researchers had discovered that companions performed in a measurably more enhanced manner when awakened at a specific date and time that also resonated astrologically with their human assignment. Dr. Chen Wu Chen had explained it this way in a recent article: “AstroPsychology can be divided into categories of resonance. Each category contains a variable of potentiality that can be matched with others who share the same category. The similarities make for familiarity and rapport, while the variables facilitate uniqueness.” Dr. Chen’s theory applied to both animate and inanimate objects, which had made him unpopular with some scientists and many religious leaders. “Ancient people didn’t make this distinction,” Dr. Chen would say, citing the anthropological/historical record of native peoples worldwide, such as native American tribes that saw both a rock, a tree, and a person, as equally alive in their own way, possessing a spirit or “vibration,” as Dr. Chen was fond of saying, “a vibration that can be expressed mathematically in algorithms. Algorithms that provide proofs and demonstrate the connectedness of our universe.”
“Connectedness is the creative network of compatibility,” Dr. Chen was fond of saying, in reference to his enhanced companion creation. “We exploit this connectedness by relying upon patterns that are essentially cosmic in nature, what we call AstroPsychological.” What this meant in terms of Zhou Xingjia, was that her birthdate of December 10, 2088 at 11:48 AM in Beijing, China had an astrological structure that could be represented as a unique mathematical algorithm. The pattern of this algorithm operated like a fractal in the creation of each unique synthetic neural network of a companion. The result was that every companion matched their assigned person in ways that felt incredibly familiar to the person. However, as Dr. Chen and his staff at BHAI had discovered, the result of such familiar resonance frequently had the side effect of amplifying unresolved issues in the person. Counseling protocols had to be established early on to deal with these side effects, which could not always be easily resolved. In extreme cases, a companion had to be permanently disassociated from their assigned person, though such cases were rare–numbering only 1/1000. In most cases, the person’s LFR, or Life Fulfillment Ratio, improved significantly, though ninety-three percent required counseling, and fifty-seven percent of these for an average of two-years. Counseling was accepted as a necessary component of achieving a successful LFR, something that Xingjia knew as well as anyone, since she worked in the Holistic Counseling Development Department of BHAI.
However, as Zhou Xingjia was now realizing as she strolled through the park with Huang Bei, on an unusually warm late February day, no amount of academic study, protocol development, or counseling practice could fully prepare someone for what it was like to be in the presence of their own companion. To passers-by she and Bei were just another couple, taking advantage of a beautiful day to walk together in the park. It was hard for Xingjia not to feel this way too, but she knew better and knowing the truth made her guarded and uneasy. She knew objectively this was a common reaction at first, but she hadn’t expected how intense her feelings would be. “Maybe I’m overreacting,” she said to herself, but she knew she was rationalizing. She knew she had to acknowledge her feelings without judgment, like she herself had told many others in her work.
“You know, these Gingko’s are unique,” Bei said, interrupting her silent introspection, as his hand patted the trunk of a large tree still bare of leaves.
“What?” Xingjia replied, “how so?” She couldn’t imagine why he was talking about trees.
“Their DNA exactly matches the same strand of Gingko’s that grow next to the original Shou Lin Temple in Henan.”
“Okay?” Xingjia said, wondering where this was going…
“It suggests, that monks from Shou Lin planted their Gingko ancestors here, perhaps some 1,500 years ago.”
“How do you know all this?” Xingjia asked.
“Botany is one of my specialties. Plants share the world, co-created the world, the biosphere people take for granted. Photosynthesis is their gift, their way of giving back.” Bei paused, pensive.
“Listen…” he said.
Xingjia looked at him, his eyes were thoughtful, even sympathetic.
“We have options, you know?” he said.
“Options? What do you mean?” Xingjia asked.
“I could get a job. I could work. I’m quite capable of earning a living. After all, it’s a big chunk of your pay check that’s paying for this relationship.”
Xingjia was not prepared for this conversation. In fact, she didn’t feel prepared for anything at the moment. She could only think of an obvious question.
“Where would you live?” She blurted out, not fully realizing all that her question implied.
“Oh, there are dormitories for the likes of me.” Bei replied, nonchalant.
“Yes, I suppose there are.” Xingjia said.
“It would give us time to get to know each other, without any pressure.” Bei paused, adding “A percentage of my income would also reduce the amount of your installments.”
Bei smiled slightly.
Xingjia looked daringly at him. “What if I wanted to take you home with me now and explore your other options?”
“I wouldn’t object.” Bei replied, without a hint of sarcasm, but then, looking curious he asked, “Is that what you’d like to do?”
Xingjia had felt her pulse rising the second of her daring innuendo. Now she was savoring the excitement and fighting her urge to take full advantage of this handsome… guy. Yet, part of her wanted to break into a run and jog all 7 kilometers’ home.
“I like options,” was all she could answer.
“Yes, so do I,” Bei countered, leaning against the Ginkgo. “But couples that become intimate too soon, tend to face more…”
“Interpersonal challenges.” Xingjia interrupted, finishing his statement. “Yes, I know. I’m familiar with the protocol.”
“Of course, you are,” Bei said, knowingly.
“Oh, so what else do you already know about me?” Xingjia countered, still feeling impulsive.
“It’s not like that,” Bei replied.
“Like what?” Xingjia asked.
“It’s not programming. I was just curious, so I asked about you.” Bei stated, actually looking a bit defensive. “I wanted to know more about you.”
“So, what did you find out?” Xingjia said teasingly, moving closer to him.
“I know your birth date, and your favorite color, teal, and that you scored in the upper 5% scholastically of your AstroPsychology class.”
“So, you think you know me?” Xingjia asked, looking him in the eyes. Those incredible eyes.
“Not yet,” Bei answered, locking eyes with her.
All she could think was, “could he ever know me? How could he ever know me? And what would his knowingness mean? The illusion of compatibility?!” Suddenly Xingjia was seized with regret. This was a mistake. Despite all her efforts to have no preconceived expectations, all she could feel was sad. Terribly, embarrassingly sad.
“Let’s walk some more,” Bei suggested.
“Sure,” Xingjia shrugged.
They walked silently towards a pond, where white ducks who had thus far survived the winter paddled about beyond the melting ice that still clung to the reeds near the shore.
The wind had begun to gust around the buildings that evening, as Xingjia pushed her way through the revolving doors of her favorite restaurant. She looked around for her friend Mei, who waved her over to a small table. Mei was tall and slim, taller than Xingjia. She had knowing eyes and a wicked sense of humor, “dangerous for sensitive types and weakened egos” she would remark about herself, but Xingjia loved Mei’s honesty – even when she didn’t agree with her. And tonight, she needed Mei, and she needed that frothy purple drink in the brandy snifter that Mei had waiting for her. She took a big sip.
“So, where is he?” Mei asked.
“Checked into his dormitory,” Xingjia said, wiping the purple froth from her upper lip.
“That’s boring,” Mei said, frowning. “I thought you’d at least tell me he was home cooking a gourmet dinner, and making sure his amorous assessments were in good working order for you later.”
“I sent you a photo,” Xingjia said, continuing to frown.
“I got it. He’s gorgeous, darling,” Mei said, eyeing her friends face, “So why so gloomy? He looks like a stud to me.”
“He’s not a gigolo, you know.” Xingjia snapped.
“Yes, well he’d be a ridiculously expensive prostitute if he were,” Mei countered. “So, what is it? Didn’t you two hit it off?”
“Maybe… I don’t know; he’s very real you know. More real than I imagined he would be. I mean, I’ve seen lots of companions before at work. They’re always polite, intelligent, and normal, but they…seem preoccupied…like they’re focused on something else.”
“You mean on someone else, don’t you?” Mei said. “All the companions I’ve ever talked to seemed like dogs that belonged to someone else. You could pet them, but their attention was always on their owner.”
“That’s horrible, Mei!”
“We’ll,” Mei shrugged, “it’s true, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not true. They’re not dogs. They’re not pets. They’re capable of interacting on an extremely high level, not only in terms of IQ but EQ!”
“So, you liked him. I get it. You’re so supposed to be compatible, right? But that’s the problem, isn’t it? You like him, but you know he’s not real. So, you feel like you’re being deceived, and this pisses you off.”
“Maybe,” Xingjia replied, toying with her nearly empty glass.
“Maybe exactly,” Mei pronounced knowingly, “you want another drink?”
While Mei flagged the waiter down, Xingjia could only think “What is real? What do we mean by real? He’s real enough, isn’t he? He looked at me like no one has ever looked at me. How is that possible? Am I just projecting, imagining that he experiences me? I wonder what he does experience?” Xingjia wished that her second drink would come soon.
For ten years, ever since companions had fully emerged on the scene, debates had raged worldwide like a philosophical inferno. On the spiritual or religious side, the outcry was “they have no souls.” Those who believed in reincarnation were left to speculate how companions fit into the many lives scheme of things. Some wondered whether or not inception, the term for a soul’s entry into the body, might occur when companions were awakened, but most rejected such an idea as outrageous and assumed reincarnation would continue the way it always had. Superstitious types saw companions as soulless automatons to be feared rather than welcomed into society. Those who mistrusted science, were quick to point out that science could not always accurately predict outcomes, fueling the usual horror scenarios of a future where companions took over the world and eliminated humans. There had even been some acts of violence towards companions in the west, where groups had organized in protest, claiming that companions disrupted the “natural order,” offending God and nature. Some environmentalists had joined with those on the religious right in the U.S. to denounce companions, organizing legal action to prevent their further development and integration into society.
The scientific community had no such philosophical or religious qualms. Sociologists gathered data and analyzed results, presenting their findings regarding the introduction of companions in society. Socioeconomic statistics revealed the economic reality, and the impact upon the work force. That China, the most populous nation in the world, a nation with the largest work force, would lead the world in the production of androids and companions, seemed incredibly ironic. Why would a nation with so many people to employ need androids? As it turned out, China’s economic expansion, which had long surpassed the U.S., now dominated the world. Such global economic domination was in fact the result of the manufacture and export of robotics, androids, and now companions. BHAI was only the latest development company to emerge from a mega-industry that employed hundreds of millions in China. The growing popularity of companions may have stirred deep controversy and debate in many parts of the world, but in China, companions were seen as simply the latest fascinating line in an evolution of robotics and android products. Robotics and androids had brought about the economic miracle China had been searching for a hundred years previously. Companions were to be applauded, not feared.
To most scientists, a companion was simply a highly-sophisticated device. As such, it was considered as property, and regulated according to each countries legal definition of property. In China, when someone purchased a companion, which was an expense comparable to the cost of a small apartment, they were actually leasing the companion only for the length of their life. The lease was non-transferable, and no companion could legally be sold. At the time of their death, custody of a companion would revert to BHAI, and the disassociated companion would be recycled following a period of debriefing, within which the complex memory of the companion would be logged-in and chronicled. More than simply a journal, the memory of a companion contained a unique multi-faceted individual history. Already, Dr. Chen Wu Chen and his team of researchers were intrigued by this record of a companion’s history, which they believed would prove incredibly valuable in understanding companions, and of course, suggest new ways to improve design and functionality.
However, companions had only been on the market for 10-years; with 54% of customers being young professional women in their thirties. So, the number of companions available for debriefing had been limited. Nonetheless, information obtained from debriefing had already influenced the most recent round of companion development, including Huang Bei. In fact, the customers who acquired these most recent companion models, had been carefully selected. Unbeknownst to Zhou Xingjia, she belonged to a select international customer base, a base that had its own file and special project label at BHAI. Her journal entries would be carefully monitored, along with Huang Bei’s. Dr. Chen himself was deeply curious regarding the latest companion-couple journal input, and surprised his team by becoming directly involved in reading and analyzing journal entries. Nothing yet seemed different than with previous companion couples. Yet, Dr. Chen remained attentive, often working later than had been his habit for some time. Whatever his interest or concerns were, he had not divulged them to anyone.
Yet, on this night, while Xingjia sipped drinks with Mei, and Huang Bei adjusted to life in his new dormitory, Dr. Chen was looking at the birth chart of Xingjia and the awakening chart of Bei. Despite all the sophisticated data at his disposal, Dr. Chen liked studying these old astrological charts. Sipping his “hong cha,” Dr. Chen considered the current trends for Xingjia and Bei, contemplating what this might mean for them, and simultaneously wondering where all of this might lead. He could not be sure of how things would go from here. The outcome so far over the last ten years had exceeded his expectations. Yet, Dr. Chen could not shake a vague uneasiness within himself, something that no equation could satisfy, as he stared out over the nightscape of glittering Beijing.
推荐课程：
跟伦敦占星学院创办人苏·汤普金斯学占星学 Level 3-Level 5
跟伦敦占星学院创办人苏·汤普金斯学占星学 Level 4-Level 5
报告推荐：
延伸阅读：
