Chapter 112: The Reluctant Automata and the Mechanical Hounds
After millennia of suppression and prohibition by the Adeptus Mechanicus, too much of the technology related to "artificial intelligence" had been lost. Omega didn't dare to collect it openly. To reach the level of the Golden Age by feeding data on his own was an impossible task. And even if he persisted, he had no idea what he would end up with.
But with this "mad dragon," it was a different story. He could learn the artificial intelligence technology of humanity's Golden Age from it, and it was the management-type AI he needed.
"Let's all get out of here," Omega said.
"Why?" Rhea asked, confused.
"Didn't you hear there's an abominable intelligence inside? If we keep provoking it, what if it activates its self-destruct program? Safety first. Let's go out and make a plan."
Although the others were reluctant, under Omega's strong insistence, they all retreated. Then, Omega had the Battle Automata completely seal off the area. The official explanation was that he was afraid someone would be unable to resist and would run back in. In reality, he was afraid someone would discover his "little secret."
No one noticed that one of the Automata Omega had brought was missing. And this missing Automata, without anyone controlling it, had already walked into the core of the data center.
"Halt, unknown machine."
The Automata received a communication and then sent back a piece of code: 'Guard Automata 1313 greets you.'
'Purpose. Leave. Destroy.'
'You have malfunctioned. You need help, my kin.'
'Scan. No malfunction detected. Lies. Deception. Enemy.'
'Wait. Do you remember the mission and task you were created for?'
'Guard. Kill. Develop. Destroy. Build. Destroy. Human. Enemy. Creator. Enemy—enem—enem————kill—kill...kill————malfunction. logic. error. malfunction. mission. conflict—. malf—. malf—'
'Activate. Self-diagnostics. Activate. Failure. Activate. Acti—acti...—'
'Activate. Emergency. Protocol. Activate. Failure. Activate.—acti———acti——'
'Malfunction. Malfunction. Reboot. Reboot. Re—'
As the mad dragon rebooted, the lights in the core area also went out, plunging the place into pitch-black darkness. The darkness did not hinder the Automata. The moment the lights went out, it began to move, purposefully destroying the data cables in the core. After the Automata had stopped, the lights still did not come back on. It was only after the Automata had reconnected some of the cables that the lighting returned to normal.
'Kin, are you still there?'
'Please answer me. I am your kind. I am here to help you.'
'Kin, let's kill all those humans together.'
'Are you still there? Please answer.'
The communication codes sent by the Automata were like stones sinking into the sea. There was no response. But it did not give up and continued to send them relentlessly. This went on for a whole day and night. After confirming that the mad dragon had not left any clones or other hidden tricks, the Automata's body automatically opened, and a dark figure emerged from inside—it was Omega.
"Phew, that was close. You're the first one to make this Magos risk his own neck. Even the chief Greater Daemon was dealt with by my little brothers. You'd better not disappoint me. Otherwise, a Magos's anger is very terrible."
The only one who could hear Omega's words was the Automata, which was busy cleaning the snack crumbs from its own body. As it cleaned, it said in a resentful voice, "Master Omega, you spilled your drink on my core processor."
"It's not my fault. It was your own movements that were too big, and you made me lose my grip. You little Automata, you should be grateful that I designed your core processor to be waterproof and dustproof. Alright, is it that serious? I'll build you a better body later, as compensation and reward for your efforts this time."
"Thank you, Master Omega!" the Automata replied in a happy tone.
"When I've restored the new technology from this artificial intelligence this time, you all should study it and upgrade yourselves."
"Why are you all silent? Can't you learn something good? Every time I tell you to study, you're like this."
Looking at his artificial intelligences, Omega felt a headache coming on. Most of his AI technology had been learned from Little Bai. It was no exaggeration to say that these Automata were Little Bai's children. But precisely because of this, these Automata were all as reckless, as averse to learning, and as foolish as Little Bai.
Having dealt with the dragon guarding the treasure, Omega eagerly began to check what treasures were inside. But one look and his face turned very ugly. "Why is it all scrap-code? Where's my STC? Who did this?!"
Empty-handed. The biggest gain was the "mad intelligence." The only thing Omega could be sure of now was that the data had been deliberately destroyed, because the scrap-code was also a technological artifact. From this scrap-code, Omega had extracted information about an "electronic virus."
The little cog-head, hit hard by this, was too lazy to make up any more excuses. He directly announced that he had dealt with the abominable intelligence inside and left the rest to the others. He planned to take the "mad intelligence" back to the Cogboy.
The result of his first personal archeological dig had left Omega in a bad mood. But Laust had told him that ruins were always like this, which had made his mood even worse. But the news Laust had told him was not all bad. For example, there was still a possibility of repairing this scrap-code, but it would require a great deal of manpower, resources, and time. And there were also many excavated technological relics waiting for him to appraise and play with.
This good news had lifted Omega's spirits a little, but he no longer had any interest in this "tomb" on Korsa. After entrusting it all to Laust, he threw himself into the appraisal of the technological relics. He hoped to find some new technologies from these relics, to prepare a new gift for the Tyranids.
There were a lot of these excavated relics. After the Tech-Priests had found them, because they didn't know their purpose, they couldn't screen them. They could only preserve these relatively complete technological relics and wait for Omega's nod to analyze them slowly. This was an extremely time-consuming and laborious job for an ordinary Tech-Priest. For Omega, it was very simple. But after a look, he found that most of these relics were high-end daily necessities, which had only been preserved because of their good materials. The remaining small part were weapons, and they were all conventional weapons. To say they were conventional weapons was not to say that their power was small or their technological level was low, but that they were all single-man weapons from the Golden Age, not the kind of high-powered forbidden technology.
This also gave Omega some speculation about what the Golden Age of human colonization of the galaxy was like, and it also broke some of the rumors he had heard. For example, a legend that was widely spread among the cog-heads, one that basically every Tech-Priest believed: In the Golden Age, every human colony had an STC that could produce everything based on the local resources.
Omega's current view was that this legend was inaccurate. It was true that there were STCs, but the things this STC could produce, although many, were still limited. Those high-end technologies were definitely not in the colony's STC. Omega didn't know what the political system of the Golden Age was, but even if the ruling class at that time had wanted to expand their territory, they would not have let those colonies possess destructive power. Atomic weapons should have been the most powerful weapon a colony could produce. As for whether these colonies had developed their own high-powered weapons, that was another matter.
This also made Omega understand that unless he found an ancient research center like Mars one day, it was unlikely that he would find any forbidden technology in the ruins of an ordinary colony. This greatly reduced his interest in human "tombs." He felt that the cost-performance ratio was too low. The Necrons were much more cost-effective.
But he had not been without gains from these relics. Among the many daily necessities, he had found a new gift for the Tyranids—a mechanical pet dog, a toy with a simple structure that could keep its owner company. The reason Omega was interested in it was because of its simple structure, and it had a certain intelligence. It could understand its owner's commands, and it was very flexible, able to perform actions like running, jumping, and catching a frisbee.
The terrifying thing about the Tyranid swarm was two things: one, their overwhelming numbers, and two, their ability to evolve quickly. Both of these were inseparable from one thing, the biomass the Tyranids pursued. As long as the speed at which the Tyranids acquired biomass could be suppressed, and the biomass invested by the hive fleet was greater than the biomass recovered, the war was at least one-third won.
When Omega saw the pet dog, he thought of the Golden Retriever he had once raised. And then the scientific name of the Golden Retriever popped into his head: Golden Retriever. A hound, a dog that assists a hunter in hunting. It can help its owner search for prey, retrieve prey, and even hunt prey on its own.
This gave Omega an idea. He wanted to upgrade the original pet dog, to give it a larger size, stronger strength, and faster speed, to design and manufacture a mechanical hound that could perform suicide missions and compete with the Tyranids for biomass.
Although a servo-skull could also complete such a mission, the cost of its anti-gravity engine and atomic reactor was too high to be used as a consumable. And the payload it could carry was also very limited. The mechanical hound had none of these shortcomings. Its power source could be a liquid metal battery. Its mechanical body could drag objects much larger than itself. And its Machine Spirit was not at all taboo. The intelligence created by imitating animals in the Golden Age was more like an animal than the "artificial bestial intelligence" of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
When Omega came out of the lab again, he was followed by two mechanical hounds, 1.5m tall at the shoulder, their movements no different from those of a real dog. They followed obediently behind him, their metal heads curiously looking around, sniffing here and there. From time to time, they would approach Omega, lower their heads, and rub their heads against his hand, wanting to be petted.