Chapter 138 Lin Mo's Deduction
While Fang Lin was thousands of miles away plotting an arrest, Lin Mo, out in the Gobi Desert, was immersed in an invisible war.
The door to the First Wall laboratory had been tightly shut for three days.
A handwritten sign hung on the door: "Simulation in progress, please do not disturb." Li Xiao had hung the sign, and she had even reinforced it with tape, terrified that someone might accidentally push the door open.
At this moment, Lin Mo sat in front of three monitors, his eyes bloodshot, yet his spirit was in a state of strange excitement.
On the screens, every subsystem of the tokamak-3 was running at a speed visible to the naked eye—the Magnet System, First Wall, Tritium Cycle, Vacuum Chamber, Heating System, Divertor... Every line of code and every parameter was being repeatedly verified under his gaze.
In the upper right corner of the system interface, the number for the research points balance was flickering rapidly: Current research points: 8750. Consumption for this simulation: -200. Remaining research points: 8550.
Lin Mo felt no heartache.
Three days ago, he had made a decision: before entering the next phase, he would conduct extreme simulations on every subsystem of the tokamak-3—not the routine few thousand times, but tens of thousands of times. He would simulate every conceivable failure mode, every possible unexpected situation, and every theoretically existing risk point.
When Chen Xueming heard this plan, he was stunned for several seconds: "Tens of thousands of times? Director Lin, do you know how much time that will take?"
"The system simulation can be accelerated," Lin Mo said. "A ten-thousand-fold acceleration, running it ten thousand times, is equivalent to one year in real time."
Chen Xueming calculated: "That will still take… over ten days?"
"Seventeen days," Lin Mo said. "I've calculated it. Seventeen days in exchange for a foolproof ignition. Is it worth it?"
Chen Xueming was silent. Then he nodded: "It is."
On the first day, Lin Mo started with the Magnet System.
The Magnet System of the tokamak-3 consisted of hundreds of superconducting coils, producing a magnetic field strength tens of thousands of times that of the Earth's magnetic field. These magnetic fields, like an invisible giant hand, tightly confined the plasma heated to hundreds of millions of degrees within the vacuum, preventing it from touching the walls.
If any coil had a problem, the magnetic field would become unbalanced. Once the magnetic field was unbalanced, the plasma would instantly spiral out of control and slam into the First Wall—and then the entire device would be scrapped.
Lin Mo set the first group of failure modes: single coil quench.
On the screen, the virtual model of the tokamak-3 began to run. The plasma was heated, its temperature soared, and the magnetic field steadily confined it. Then, the system simulated a sudden coil quench—sparks. An alarm. The plasma went out of control. The entire process lasted only 0.3 seconds.
Lin Mo stared at the failure report on the screen and wrote a line in his notebook: "Single coil quench → backup power automatically cuts in → response time must be less than 0.1 seconds."
Then he adjusted the parameters and started the second simulation. The third. The fourth. The one-hundredth. The three-hundredth. The five-hundredth.
For every simulation, he recorded the cause of the failure, the system's response, and the critical point of failure. The notebook was densely packed with writing; some places were repeatedly crossed out, and in others, he drew symbols that only he could understand.
The numbers in the upper right corner of the system flickered constantly: -200, -200, -200.
By the end of the second day, the simulation for the Magnet System had been completed twelve thousand times. Lin Mo discovered a problem that had previously been overlooked: under extreme conditions, the probability of two adjacent coils quenching simultaneously was extremely low, but if it happened, the backup power could not compensate in time, leading to an instantaneous collapse of the magnetic field.
The solution: add an independent backup group specifically for the situation where adjacent coils quench simultaneously. He redeemed this plan, consuming 300 research points.
Chen Xueming came to see him the next morning and found Lin Mo asleep on the table, still clutching the notebook. He didn't have the heart to wake him, so he quietly backed out and stood by the door for half an hour, waiting for sounds to come from inside before knocking again.
From the third to the fifth day, he focused on the First Wall. This was the part Lin Mo valued the most. The First Wall directly faced the plasma heated to hundreds of millions of degrees, enduring extreme thermal loads and particle bombardment. If it had a problem, the entire device would be ruined.
He set up ten thousand types of operating conditions—different temperatures, different pressures, different operating durations, different failure modes. For every condition, he ran ten thousand simulations.
The first problem discovered: after 2000 hours of continuous operation, the fatigue life of the First Wall Material was 8% lower than expected. Although this was better than the 28% improvement after previous optimizations, Lin Mo was not satisfied.
He began to adjust the parameters of the sintering process—temperature, pressure, time, ratio—running ten thousand simulations for every set of parameters.
At 3:00 AM on the seventh day, a green prompt popped up on the screen: "Material combination: Tungsten fiber composite + new sintering process." "Fatigue life: 37% improvement over baseline." "Thermal load capacity: 22% improvement." "Cost: 15% increase."
Lin Mo stared at the text for a long time, then smiled. He redeemed this process package, consuming 500 research points.
When he walked out of the laboratory, it was already bright outside. Zhao Gang happened to be passing by on patrol and was startled when he saw him: "Director Lin, have you… not slept for three days?"
Lin Mo waved his hand: "I slept, I slept on the table." Zhao Gang looked at his dark circles, opened his mouth, and finally just said: "I'll go get you something to eat."
From the eighth to the eleventh day, he worked on the Tritium Cycle. This was Chen Xueming's turf, but Lin Mo insisted on running it himself. He set up thousands of failure modes—pump failure, valve jamming, pipeline leakage, control system malfunction—running ten thousand simulations for each.
On the tenth night, he discovered a hidden danger: under specific operating conditions, a key valve in the Tritium Cycle would deform due to thermal stress, leading to seal failure. Although the probability was only 0.03%, if it happened, the consequences of a radioactive material leak would be unimaginable.
He immediately dialed Chen Xueming's number. After listening, Chen Xueming was silent for a few seconds, then said: "I'll change the material tomorrow."
"No need to change it," Lin Mo said. "The system simulation provided an optimization plan—change the valve's opening sequence to avoid that thermal stress peak interval. You should try it."
Chen Xueming hung up the phone and went to the laboratory overnight to verify it. The next morning, he sent a message: "Verification successful. Director Lin, you saved my life."
Lin Mo looked at the message, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly. He redeemed this optimization plan, consuming 200 research points.
From the twelfth to the fifteenth day, he worked on the Vacuum Chamber, Heating System, and Divertor. For every subsystem, he used the same method—tens of thousands of simulations, recording all possible failures, searching for all potential hidden dangers, and redeeming all optimizable plans.
The balance of research points in the upper right corner of the system dropped all the way from 8750 to 6750. But Lin Mo didn't care.
He knew that these research points were exchanged for a guarantee—at the moment of ignition, every place that could possibly go wrong had already been verified in advance.
On the fifteenth night, he completed the simulation of the last subsystem. On the screen, the virtual model of the tokamak-3 was floating quietly, with all subsystems showing green. Lin Mo leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and exhaled a long breath.
Seventeen days. Twenty-three thousand simulations. Two thousand research points. It was worth it.
On the morning of the sixteenth day, Lin Mo pushed open the door of the laboratory. The sunlight was so piercing that he couldn't open his eyes, and the wind from the Gobi Desert blew over, carrying the familiar scent of sand and soil. He took a deep breath, feeling as if his whole being had come back to life.
Three people were standing at the door. Chen Xueming, Li Xiao, and Zhao Gang.
Chen Xueming was holding a bowl of hot porridge, Li Xiao was clutching a stack of printed data reports, and Zhao Gang was carrying a bag of freshly bought steamed buns.
"Director Lin," Chen Xueming handed him the porridge, "It's been seventeen days, come out and get some fresh air."
Lin Mo took the porridge and took a sip; it was so hot he grimaced, but his heart felt incredibly warm.
Li Xiao handed him the data report: "These are the results you ran over these seventeen days, and I've summarized them. Twenty-three thousand simulations, forty-seven hidden dangers discovered, twenty-three optimization plans, and research points consumed..."
"Two thousand," Lin Mo said. "Exactly two thousand."
Zhao Gang gasped: "That many? Those points, they must be very precious, right?"
Lin Mo nodded, then shook his head: "They are precious. But when used where they are needed most, it's not a waste."
He looked at the construction site in the distance, where tower cranes stood like a forest and vehicles shuttled back and forth; the massive circular foundation pit was already beginning to take shape.
"In three more months, the main project will be completed," he murmured. "By then, we can start the equipment installation."
Chen Xueming stood beside him, also looking at the construction site. "Director Lin, what do you think the day of ignition will be like?"
Lin Mo was silent for a few seconds, then smiled. "I don't know. But I do know that the better prepared we are, the smoother that day will go."
He turned around and looked at the three people who had stayed with him through countless days and nights. "Let's go, let's go eat. After we eat, we keep working."
The four of them walked side by side toward the Canteen. Behind them, the tokamak-3 construction site was bathed in the morning light, like a giant beast waking up. And the person who had run tens of thousands of simulations over seventeen days could finally breathe a little easier.