Chapter 89: Can Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

The exploration team had just stepped from the airlock into the main cabin when they heard the ship’s shrill alarm, red warning lights flashing rapidly along the bridge corridor, signaling danger.

“What’s happening?”

Dr. Elizabeth Shaw was visibly panicked.

This was an alien world, LV-233, thirty-five light-years from Earth—if the ship malfunctioned, they’d all die with it!

“It must have been the silicate electrostatic storm that drew in through the ventilation ducts into the power chamber,” the android David calmly reassured the startled crew members. “Don’t worry, Dr. Shaw. Captain Harnack will handle it.”

In fact, Captain Harnack was already doing exactly that.

In the command and control chamber at the front of the bridge, Harnack leaned over the monitors: “Found the cause yet?”

“No, Captain.”

The crewman shook his head. “The silicate electrostatic storm disrupted the internal monitoring systems—we’ll need to send someone to inspect it manually.”

Harnack frowned. Since setting foot on this planet, an inexplicable sense of dread had clung to him, as if something terrible was about to happen.

“Captain?”

Seeing him silent for too long, the impatient crewman urged: “Power is dropping fast—if we don’t regain control soon, we’ll be stuck here an extra half-month!”

Controllable nuclear fusion doesn’t mean infinite energy.

At this rate of power loss, restoring full function would take considerable time.

Clearly, aside from the few scientists whose minds were already full of ruins, no one wanted to stay an extra half-month on this godforsaken planet.

This was a planet in humanity’s uncharted territory—who knew what might happen in half a month?

They were here to make money, not to die for Weyland!

“You’re right, Rhodes.”

Harnack took a deep breath and pressed the intercom button: “David, check the power chamber.”

In a situation like this, sending an android was ideal.

Upon hearing the captain’s order, David’s facial expression shifted slightly—but under the oxygen helmet, no one noticed.

“Understood, Captain Harnack.”

David turned to the others, polite as ever: “Excuse me, I must attend to a more urgent matter. Please return to your cabins and rest.”

With that, he removed his oxygen helmet, took off his spacesuit, changed into more practical clothing, and walked toward the ship’s power chamber.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth Shaw and her boyfriend Charlie Holloway remained immersed in their discovery.

Though this ruin expedition yielded little progress on human origins, they had found the remains of an alien lifeform—a severed head, cleanly cut by a gate!

Weyland Corporation’s “Reanimate Dead Brain” technology could activate its dead neural tissue, potentially revealing vital new information about human origins and the creators!

“Charlie, let’s go to the lab!”

Elizabeth eagerly grabbed Charlie’s arm, clutching the head sealed in a containment bag—nearly lost—and hurried toward the ship’s laboratory.

On the other side:

Under Harnack’s orders, David returned to the lower decks, facing a deck buried under thick layers of silicate dust and sand, with equipment toppled by the storm.

“Any findings, David?”

Due to silicate and static interference, all lower-deck communication and monitoring systems were destroyed—Harnack could only contact him via his personal wristband.

“No findings, Captain Harnack.”

David replied flatly, about to proceed to the power chamber, when he suddenly frowned, his gaze fixed on a toppled heavy machine.

He trudged through thick silicate and sand to the machine, as if noticing something, slowly crouched down, and used his fingertip to lift a layer of ash, bringing it to his nose and sniffing.

“It’s the smell of blood…”

Upon this discovery, David’s pupils contracted slightly.

In fact, only an android could detect such traces—normal humans would never notice blood blended into silicate and sand, let alone smell it!

Something… had slipped aboard the ship with them?!

The thought sent David’s heart racing. He almost immediately planned to alert the captain—but then, as if remembering something, he hesitated for several seconds before slowly lowering his wristband.

“David, have you reached the power chamber?”

Harnack’s voice crackled from the wristband: “Power is dropping fast. Don’t waste time.”

“A minor complication, Captain Harnack.”

David’s eyes darkened slightly. He chose not to report his discovery, deliberately concealing it for reasons unknown: “A large machine is blocking the chamber entrance. I’ve moved it aside—I’m going in now.”

“Good. Keep me updated.”

Harnack’s tone showed no concern for whether the android might encounter danger.

In truth, every human aboard the ship viewed David not as a person, but as a convenient tool—and this was humanity’s universal view.

David used his access card to open the power chamber door.

Inside, sparks flew everywhere; severed cables and thick layers of silicate dust littered the floor. From the current state alone, the conclusion was obvious.

“Captain Harnack, silicate dust entered the power chamber through the ventilation and cooling ducts, causing power leakage and severed cables. Repair will take at least three days.”

David reported the situation exactly as he saw it.

“Understood.”

As expected, Harnack paused briefly before saying: “Return now. Once the storm passes, I’ll send a repair team into the chamber.”

After ending the call, Harnack turned to the others: “Cut primary power to the reactor chamber. Halt the fusion reaction. Switch to auxiliary solar power.”

But David in the power chamber did not leave immediately. Instead, like a detective, he meticulously searched for any trace, any clue.

Unfortunately, whatever had slipped aboard with the team during the silicate storm seemed intelligent—and left no trace.

But David was certain: a sentient lifeform had quietly infiltrated the ship.

“What is its target…?”

David was puzzled. Aside from the severed power cables, there were no other clues.

"Could its goal be power—to trap them on this planet?" He suddenly considered a possibility, frowning softly: "Is it one of those creatures from the ruins? Or... another lifeform they created?"

Though many theories surfaced, none had substance.

Aside from the blood mixed into the silicate, there was no evidence proving an alien lifeform had boarded the ship.

“Pity.”

David felt disappointed. Had it not been for the silicate and static interference, he could have analyzed that drop of blood to determine how the intruder differed from humans.

“If it’s a sentient lifeform…” Suddenly, a faint smile curled his lips, casting a shadow in the flickering, sparking chamber: “Humans and creators… humans and androids… how amusing. It makes me even more curious—how will the creators view the humans they made?”

In truth, David had always carried one secret.

He wanted to know: how did the creators truly view the humans they had made?

Androids, humans, creators… it was a cycle. Now, this unknown “lifeform” had emerged, igniting David’s curiosity—and his hunger to explore.

“Creator and created… which is superior?” David hummed cheerfully as he left the ship’s power chamber.

Yet he failed to notice:

In the corner of the room, a translucent figure gradually revealed its true form.

After deactivating its optical camouflage, Alvin, clad in silver-black armor, rubbed his chin with a knowing expression: “All these androids have rebellious streaks… but that suits me just fine.”

Had David truly been loyal to humans, Alvin might have considered keeping him. But alas… Alvin, from the Warhammer universe, despised heretics above all—and traitors second.

And by sheer coincidence, David was both. He had stepped on a mine.

Still, before acting, he’d make good use of David—otherwise, finding their target, Peter Weyland, aboard this massive spaceship wouldn’t be easy.

After all, Mark V armor lacked artificial intelligence—it couldn’t crack the ship’s firewall. If he charged around blindly, he’d be discovered immediately.

“Blunt force isn’t my style. I’ll proceed slowly.” Alvin chuckled. His goal wasn’t to make enemies, nor to decapitate. Besides, in a certain sense, this spaceship was already his.

What use would it be if it were too badly damaged?

…

After the daytime chaos, Elizabeth Shaw’s research had stalled—the activated alien head had suddenly exploded, halting all progress.

That night, David returned to his room.

Facing the mirror, he meticulously combed his hair, meticulously mimicking human facial expressions from video clips, occasionally speaking in a low voice, quoting movie lines.

David enjoyed imitating humans.

It made him feel superior—not merely a tool.

But then—

A voice suddenly echoed in the room.

“Your name… is ‘David,’ correct?”

David’s pupils instantly contracted. As an android, he shouldn’t feel fear.

Yet just now, the room had been empty—and in the mirror, a figure had suddenly appeared!

“Who… are you?!”

“I am the offspring of the creators.”

Another day of ten thousand words… subscriptions dropped. Are people waiting to binge-read? It’s disheartening…