148: Chapter 148 This is the modern version of the Manhattan Project

The Secretary of Defense hung up the phone, tapped his fingers twice on the desk, and dialed the private number of the director of the Advanced Weapons Research Bureau.

"John, I need you to tell me right now—" He paused. "Do we have any humanoid mecha projects in development?"

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, accompanied by the sound of turning pages. "Secretary? Are you talking about exoskeleton armor? The third-generation System just passed preliminary testing last month, though there are still some heat dissipation issues."

"Not exoskeletons." The Secretary of Defense interrupted him, staring at the satellite photo on his desk. "I mean that kind of... 44-meter-tall giant humanoid mecha. The kind that can fly, can carry heavy weapons, and is standing right now in Yokosuka Port, on the deck of the uss ronald reagan."

The phone suddenly went silent.

Three seconds later, John's voice changed pitch. "Secretary... you're joking, right?"

"John." The Secretary of Defense rubbed his temples. "I'm sitting here looking at a damn satellite photo, and there's a 44-meter-tall robot standing on our aircraft carrier in the photo. It has twin-barreled cannons and missile launchers slung over its shoulders. Do you think I'm in the mood for jokes right now?"

The sound of a chair shifting came from the other end of the phone, very hurried.

"This... this is impossible," John's voice began to float. "Mr. Secretary, that's stuff from sci-fi movies! Just think about it, how do you solve the problem of Materials strength? What about the power System? Balance control? Joint load-bearing? Every single item is a world-class problem! Even if we invested one trillion dollars right now, with our existing technological level—" He spoke faster and faster. "We simply couldn't build it!"

"So you don't have this project?"

"None at all!" John's voice was very firm, with a hint of eagerness, as if he was afraid the Secretary of Defense wouldn't believe him. "Secretary, I've been in the research bureau for twenty years. What black-tech project could I not know about? Let alone a physical object, we are still at the stage of deducing theoretical models. For something like this, it will take at least fifty years of technological Breakthrough before it's even possible..."

The Secretary of Defense hung up the phone without waiting for him to finish.

His palms were covered in sweat.

He took a deep breath and dialed the private line of Lockheed Martin's CEO.

Five minutes later, the call ended.

The answer was: No.

Boeing, Raytheon, Northrop Grumman, General Dynamics...

One after another.

All the answers were identical:

"Not within our technical capabilities."

"Impossible for the next thirty years."

"That's Hollywood special effects."

When the last phone call was hung up, the Secretary of Defense collapsed into his chair, leaving only the ticking sound of the wall clock in the entire office.

It's not ours.

Whose is it then?

Just as he was about to light a cigarette, the office door was suddenly pushed open, the door handle crashing against the wall with a bang.

The Deputy Secretary rushed in, his face flushed and his hair a bit messy, as if he had run all the way. He slammed the tablet directly onto the desk, his hands shaking. "Secretary! Something major has happened! Social media has completely blown up!"

The Secretary of Defense took the tablet.

The screen showed a Twitter page, and that photo had already spread—the silver-gray mecha standing on the aircraft carrier deck against a backdrop of blue sky and ocean. The shooting angle was very low, making the mecha look exceptionally tall.

Of the top ten trending searches on Twitter, nine were related to it.

He scrolled down:

"USA! USA! This is what being number one in the world means!"

"Look at our secret weapon! All other countries are just little brothers!"

"Those pieces of junk from Daxia? They're a joke in front of this!"

Repost counts: one hundred thousand, five hundred thousand, one million...

Still growing crazily.

The Secretary of Defense stared at the screen, fine beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

"Secretary..." There was undisguised excitement in the Deputy Secretary's voice. "The whole world has blown up! Everyone is saying this is our secret weapon! Look at this heat—"

He didn't notice the expression of the Secretary of Defense.

The Secretary of Defense stared at the comments on the screen, sweat slowly seeping from his forehead.

The Deputy Secretary continued, "Twitter, Facebook, Instagram are full of it, the repost count is rising every minute! Public morale... Secretary, this is simply the perfect promotional effect!"

"Shut up." The Secretary of Defense's voice was very low.

The Deputy Secretary was stunned. "Mr. Secretary?"

The Secretary of Defense pushed the tablet aside and covered his face with both hands.

The office suddenly quieted down.

The Deputy Secretary stood there, a bit at a loss. He looked at the Secretary, then at the satellite photo on the desk, his brain starting to turn.

Wait...

The Secretary was making phone calls just now. One phone call after another.

And it seemed... he was in a very bad mood.

"Mr. Secretary," the Deputy Secretary asked cautiously, "could this project... not be ours?"

The Secretary of Defense didn't speak, squeezing out a sentence from between his fingers: "Get out first and let me have some quiet."

The Deputy Secretary gasped.

It's over.

He suddenly understood—if they admitted it wasn't theirs, it would be equivalent to telling the whole world: the air defense System of the USA is a joke, and a 44-meter-tall unidentified object landed on an aircraft carrier, yet they knew nothing about it.

The sign of being the "world's number one military superpower" would instantly smash to the ground.

The office fell into a dead silence.

Only faint footsteps could be heard outside the corridor.

One minute.

Two minutes.

Three minutes passed.

The Deputy Secretary suddenly spoke, his voice very soft: "Secretary... do you remember the Manhattan Project?"

The Secretary of Defense froze for a moment, then slowly lowered his hands.

"The Manhattan Project," the Deputy Secretary spoke very slowly, as if probing carefully, "that top-secret project to build the atomic bomb during World War II. To what extent was its confidentiality level high? Even Vice President Truman didn't know. It wasn't until the president passed away and he succeeded him as president that the person in charge of the Manhattan Project told him about this plan."

The Secretary of Defense looked at him without speaking.

"I mean," the Deputy Secretary swallowed a mouthful of saliva, "could this... also be a top-secret project of that level? The confidentiality Rank is too high, so high that—"

He paused for a moment.

"So high that even the Secretary of Defense is not within the scope of those who know?"

The Secretary of Defense stared at the Deputy Secretary, his gaze slowly shifting from dazed to clear.

That's right.

It must be like this.

This is the modern version of the Manhattan Project.

It must be a super black-tech project personally led by the President, with a confidentiality Rank so high that even he, the Secretary of Defense, was excluded.

Come to think of it, this is actually quite reasonable—such disruptive technology, such strategically significant weapons, of course, had to be kept secret to the extreme.

Just like the atomic bomb back then.

The whole world didn't know the USA was working on this, until that mushroom cloud rose over Hiroshima and the war ended instantly.

It's the same logic now.

The mecha suddenly appearing in front of everyone, shocking the world—this is true strategic deterrence.

The Secretary of Defense let out a long breath, his whole body relaxing.

"You're right, it must be the President's top-secret project. The confidentiality Rank is too high, which is why he didn't tell me."

"Right!" The Deputy Secretary clearly breathed a sigh of relief as well, his voice becoming a bit lighter. "Secretary, think about it, how much money would it cost to build something like this? Hundreds of billions of dollars at the baseline, right? Without the President personally nodding and approving, who would dare to undertake such a huge project? Congress would have turned upside down long ago."

The Secretary of Defense nodded.

"And look," the Deputy Secretary became more and more excited, "debuting in Yokosuka Port—that's the mother port of the Seventh Fleet! This is obviously a carefully designed strategic display. It's meant to let the whole world see our military strength."

The Secretary of Defense nodded again. The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.

Yes, Yokosuka Port.

The waters of Sakura.

Facing the entire Asia-Pacific region.

Isn't this flexing muscles at Daxia?

"Then what about us now..." the Deputy Secretary asked tentatively, "should we make a call to The White House to confirm?"

"No need."

The Secretary of Defense turned around, his expression already returning to calm.

"A project of this level is not something that can be talked about over the phone." He walked back to his desk. "And if the President wanted me to know, he would have told me long ago. Since he chose to keep it confidential, he definitely has his strategic considerations. As subordinates, we shouldn't ask too much."