Chapter Forty-Five: The Spaceship Specifications

On this day, the entire base was particularly busy. The design specifications for the spaceship had been revised, and every department was frantically adjusting their work to meet the new requirements.

In the underground laboratory, the members of the Energy Department had gathered together. Even though the specifications contained nothing explicitly related to their field, they were nevertheless deep in discussion.

“Teacher, these specifications are far too vague,”

Staring at the design requirements on his computer, especially the ten points on the final page, Zhang Mingyang could hardly believe this was a blueprint for a cosmic vessel. There were no detailed criteria, no performance parameters—just ten brief statements:

1. Stable dark matter energy storage equipment, and devices for collecting cosmic light and mineral sources;
2. Mapping of the cosmic star chart and the spaceship’s positioning and navigation system;
3. Four dark matter engines with backup engines;
4. Intelligent auxiliary navigation instruments and the central control system for the ship;
5. Double-layered ‘Lunar Gold’ hull with repair systems and structural design for prolonged cosmic voyages;
6. Stellar reconnaissance technology to detect meteor trajectories and enable effective evasion;
7. Onboard ecosystem and artificial gravity system;
8. Long-term organic food storage room;
9. Crew auxiliary sleep chambers;
10. Quantum communication devices capable of light-year transmission.

Lin Guangming also felt these ten requirements were extremely slapdash; he had never seen a design plan so simple.

Qian Zhongshu, however, was unfazed. He said, “Having these ten points is already a big improvement. Twenty years ago, we didn’t even know what any of this was, let alone specifics.”

“These ten requirements are all improvements based on the ‘Oceanic Voyager’ blueprint. If Wang Huairen hadn’t disappeared, and the design documents gone missing with him, there would have been more.”

The mention of Wang Huairen’s disappearance prompted Zhang Mingyang to ask, “Grandpa Qian, you worked with Wang Huairen back then. How did the ‘Oceanic Voyager’ blueprints suddenly vanish?”

At the thought of the lost documents, Qian Zhongshu shivered and replied, “That incident was very strange. Wang Huairen disappeared three days after the successful launch of the ‘Oceanic Voyager.’ Ten days later, all the design papers and classified files were sealed in the archives.”

“At first, nothing happened. But less than a month later—I remember the date vividly—July fifteenth, eight-twelve in the morning. The weather was clear, not a cloud in the sky. I was working in the laboratory when suddenly people began saying it was dark outside!”

“Dark? How could it be dark in broad daylight? Was it a solar eclipse?” Zhang Mingyang interjected.

“Don’t interrupt.”

A group of people, absorbed in the story, were suddenly interrupted by Zhang Mingyang and moved over to give him a light beating.

“Go on, Elder Qian.”

Qian Zhongshu sipped his tea and continued, “Dark outside? I checked the time—eight in the morning—how could it possibly be dark? So I went outside to see for myself.”

“When I stepped out, sure enough, it was pitch black. You couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. It felt as if the entire world was shrouded in darkness. If the clock hadn’t shown eight o’clock, I’d have thought it was night.”

“What happened next?”

“Don’t rush,” Qian Zhongshu took another sip, “With the darkness, I started looking around. The base lights were on, but visibility was like walking through heavy smog. There were a few department colleagues with me, and we all stumbled around, trying to figure out what was happening.”

“But it was so dark, we couldn’t see where we were going. I pulled out my communicator to check our location, but all the electronic devices had failed. Phones, computers—everything was dead.”

“Electronic devices failed?”

“Yes, yes.”

Qian Zhongshu nodded. “They really stopped working. I thought my communicator was broken, but everyone else tried theirs—same result.”

“Could it have been clouds blocking the signal?” Lin Guangming asked.

“Ah! You know, Old Lin, I thought the same. Maybe it had something to do with the darkness. So I put away the devices and relied on my instincts, heading toward my quarters—where I live now.”

“But…”

At this point, Qian Zhongshu paused heavily. Those around him crowded closer, some beginning to shiver, as if the story were turning into a ghost tale.

“What are you all doing?” Qian Zhongshu laughed, looking at the trembling crowd. “Does my story sound like a ghost story?”

Everyone nodded.

“Grandpa Qian… please go on, I… I can handle it,” Zhang Mingyang stammered, clutching his teacher.

“Alright, I’ll continue.”

“But as we had barely walked a few steps, we suddenly heard footsteps. I looked at the people on either side—everyone was accounted for, so where were the footsteps coming from?”

“When we turned to check, footsteps sounded again behind us. We all glanced at each other, wanting someone to look back, but no one dared.”

“As the footsteps drew closer, the atmosphere grew impossibly tense. We stood frozen in place. I, having a bit more courage, slowly turned to look. At first, I saw nothing but darkness. But as the footsteps approached, I saw a silhouette—it was Wang Huairen!”

At the mention of Wang Huairen, everyone felt goosebumps.

“Wang Huairen?”

“How could it be Wang Huairen?”

Everyone questioned.

“At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks, but as he walked past us, we all saw clearly—it was Wang Huairen!”

“We stood rooted, called out to him, but he acted as if he couldn’t hear us, walking straight ahead until he disappeared from sight. Only then did we try to follow, but it was so dark, you could barely see two meters ahead. In the end, while searching for him, we all became separated.”

“And then?”

Everyone asked again.

Qian Zhongshu sipped his tea, continuing, “After a while—who knows how long—suddenly the world was bright again, back to daylight.”

“When it was bright, I realized I was standing at the entrance of the laboratory tunnel, with the airport just outside.”

“So strange?”

“There’s something even stranger!”

Qian Zhongshu went on, “Standing at the tunnel entrance, I checked the time—eight-thirteen. Only a minute had passed!”