Chapter Twenty-Two: The Difficulties of Construction

Upon hearing the question, Wang Bowen motioned for a middle-aged man beside him to respond.

“Director Li, your concern has already been anticipated by our base. We’ve established contact with the Aerospace Division, and our lunar base has discovered a ‘graphite mine’ on the Moon that is not only easier to extract but also of higher strength. Cargo shuttles travel back and forth weekly, ensuring a supply of 100 tons of raw material. We will do our utmost to solve the issue of raw material supply for your factory.”

Director Li nodded in acknowledgment at Wang Bowen’s answer.

“Alright, next.”

Others raised their hands. “Academician Wang, we’re from the spaceship communications group. I just reviewed our targets and saw that we’re expected to achieve quantum communication across light years! While our entire team is versed in quantum mechanics, the furthest we’ve managed is communication over a thousand kilometers. Achieving light-year quantum communication in ten months—this is simply impossible!”

Wang Bowen glanced respectfully at an elderly man with white hair seated to his left. “Director Qiu, you are a quantum technology expert and have conducted quantum communication research alongside Professor Wang Huairen. The base hopes you will lead this group.”

Director Qiu nodded, leaning on his cane as he rose shakily to his feet. “I’ve looked into your group members—they’re all experts at the forefront of quantum mechanics research and well-versed in quantum entanglement. That shouldn’t be too difficult. When I worked with Huairen years ago, I knew nothing, yet we still managed to design quantum communication within two years. I doubt any of you are less capable than I was back then!”

The communications group representative replied respectfully, “Professor Qiu, your reputation in quantum mechanics is legendary. If you say it can be done, we believe you. Our communications group will work alongside you to accomplish this.”

Director Qiu sat down, satisfied.

Seeing the issue resolved, Wang Bowen quickly asked, “Does anyone else have questions?”

…

In the time that followed, each department raised their concerns one by one, and Wang Bowen addressed them all—some could be solved, others would require ingenuity and creativity.

The Q&A session lasted from morning until five in the afternoon, with no one taking breaks or going for lunch.

When most had finished, Lin Su stood up and said, “Academician Wang, the other departments’ issues can be dealt with, but ours in the Energy Department are truly daunting.”

“First, let’s not even discuss the difficulty of procuring antimatter—the very idea of achieving ten times the speed of light with an antimatter propulsion system is impossible. Yesterday, I went to the archives and reviewed the data from the construction of the ‘Ocean Voyager’ spaceship, including Professor Wang Huairen’s notes. The maximum energy output of an antimatter propulsion system only reached 1.55 times the speed of light, far short of the tenfold target outlined in our documents!”

“Even if I increase the number of propulsion units, the ship’s size would have to expand proportionally, requiring adjustments to our initial design and increasing the workload for all departments. This would delay our plan to build the spaceship within a year.”

“Second, if we truly achieved ten times the speed of light, the temperature at the propulsion nozzle could reach tens of thousands of degrees. As far as I know, there isn’t a single metal capable of withstanding such extreme heat.”

“Third, I reviewed the documents for the required amount of antimatter—50 tons! That’s fifty times what the ‘Ocean Voyager’ used. I’ve run calculations using the particle collider’s output: each use can capture at most 120 kilograms of antimatter, and in one year, only 3,200 kilograms can be produced. That’s nowhere near fifty tons. Moreover, after each operation, the collider must be shut down for a week—not just for electrical recharge, but primarily because frequent use causes too much damage to the machine.”

“I’m finished.”

Lin Su’s concerns left Wang Bowen silent. He glanced at the time and stood up. “Alright, it’s almost six o’clock. Everyone go have dinner. I’ll discuss the Energy Department’s issues with the base leadership and give you a reply.”

Lin Su didn’t press further; he understood that the leaders at the base bore pressures no less than those of the engineers. All their plans were for the ‘Ocean Voyager,’ for ‘Beta Canis Majoris,’ and ultimately for the nation’s future.

“Alright, let’s go eat.” Lin Su urged his team to hurry, lest they miss out on food.

Thus, on the road to the cafeteria, the sight of three generations—old, middle-aged, and young—racing for dinner became a familiar scene.

After their meal, Zhang Mingyang quietly climbed the base’s one high point, a small hill, and sat at the summit to admire the moonlit night.

“In weather this cold, you’re still climbing hills? Aren’t you afraid of catching a cold?”

The sound of Wang Bowen’s voice startled Zhang Mingyang.

“Whoa! Grandpa Wang, how did you get up here?” Zhang Mingyang quickly helped Wang Bowen to the top and found a stable spot for him to sit.

“Watching the moon?”

Wang Bowen asked, following the direction of Zhang Mingyang’s gaze.

“Yes,” Zhang Mingyang nodded. “The base is too stifling. A lot of things aren’t allowed, so I can only come out at night to see the moon.”

“Stifling?” Wang Bowen chuckled. “Work officially begins tomorrow—you’ll be plenty busy. Stifling is the least of your worries!”

Zhang Mingyang sighed. “I don’t mind the work, it’s just…” He didn’t finish his sentence.

“Is it because of today’s events?”

Zhang Mingyang nodded and looked at Wang Bowen, asking in confusion, “Grandpa Wang, what is the purpose of this project we’re doing?”

Wang Bowen hadn’t expected such a question and paused before answering. “I recall something an elder once said: On a clear summer night, as you gaze at the dense, twinkling stars, there’s a sense of longing for something unreachable. Are we really so pitiful? No, never! We must conquer the universe.”

“Conquer the universe, conquer the universe…” Zhang Mingyang savored the words, looking up at the sky, murmuring to himself, “Conquer the universe… but where is the universe, really?”

Wang Bowen didn’t quite understand what Zhang Mingyang meant, replying only, “We are the universe!”

…

The two talked a while longer. Seeing that it was getting late and with work officially starting the next day, they descended the hill and returned to their quarters to rest.

Early the next morning, Zhang Mingyang got up bright and early and ran laps in the residential area—part of the plan set by team leader Lin Su, who insisted that without a strong body, all scientific research was empty talk.

Three kilometers every morning kept the mind sharp all day.

“Zhang Mingyang!”

He hadn’t run far when a familiar female voice called from behind.

Turning, he saw his old rival Bai Muqing was also out for a morning run.

Zhang Mingyang slowed his pace so they could run side by side. “Director Bai, is there something you need?”

Bai Muqing, out of breath and clearly having run for a while, replied, “Zhang Mingyang, do you have time tonight? I’d like to talk to you.”