Chapter 172 Hidden Doubts

Night fell, and the starry sky over the Gobi Desert was exceptionally clear.

The restaurant in the base guesthouse was brightly lit, and the long table was filled with a simple buffet—roast lamb, pilaf, sand leeks unique to the Gobi Desert, and a few bottles of local white liquor.

There was no luxurious pomp, but the portions were generous and the aroma was overflowing.

The twenty-three scientists from the observation delegation took their seats one after another, with members of the Chinese team interspersed among them, making the atmosphere appear relaxed and harmonious.

Lin Mo sat at the head of the table, with Smith on his left and a Japanese female professor on his right.

Chen Xueming sat diagonally opposite, discussing something with an expert from Germany.

"Dr. Lin," Smith raised his glass to signal to Lin Mo, "Thank you for your hospitality. Although this place is remote, the food is very good."

Lin Mo also raised his glass and gently clinked it, "The conditions in the Gobi Desert are limited, so we can only do our best."

Both took a sip and set their glasses down.

Smith's gaze swept over the dishes on the table, and he suddenly said, "I heard that the lamb here is raised locally? Grazing on the Gobi Desert?"

Lin Mo nodded, "Yes, there are herdsmen nearby. They have been raising sheep for hundreds of years, much earlier than we arrived here."

Smith smiled and did not continue the topic.

But the French expert sitting next to him leaned over and whispered something in French.

Smith tilted his head slightly and responded in French as well.

Lin Mo did not understand French, but he noticed that Smith's brow furrowed slightly.

At the other end of the dining table, several members of the observation delegation were talking in low voices.

"Did you see the data this afternoon?" the Italian expert lowered his voice and asked his Korean colleague in English.

The Korean expert nodded, "I did. It's perfect... too perfect to believe."

"You think so too?" The Italian expert's eyes lit up, "I thought I was the only one who felt that way."

The British expert sitting opposite leaned in, his voice even lower, "I've worked at ITER for twenty years and have never seen such beautiful test curves. All the parameters were exactly at the optimal values, and all the fluctuations were exactly within range. Don't you think... it's too much of a coincidence?"

The Korean expert hesitated, "Maybe they really achieved it?"

The British expert shook his head, not answering directly, but his expression said it all.

The Italian expert turned to look in Smith's direction and whispered, "Professor Smith seems to be skeptical too."

Halfway through the dinner, Smith made an excuse to go to the restroom and got up to leave.

Walking to the end of the corridor, he stopped and lit a cigarette.

Just as he took a puff, that British expert followed him out.

"Professor," the British expert walked up to him and also lit a cigarette, "What do you think?"

Smith was silent for a few seconds, then said, "The data is beautiful. So beautiful that... it reminds me of our simulation data at ITER."

The British expert was stunned, "Are you suspecting..."

Smith did not answer directly, instead saying, "I have been doing Nuclear Fusion research for forty-five years and have seen too much of a gap between simulation data and measured data. Simulations can be perfect, but measured data always has errors. But the data they showed me today—there is almost no error."

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes flickering in the night, "Either their engineering control capabilities have far exceeded ours, or..."

He did not continue, but the British expert understood.

The two men finished their cigarettes in silence and returned to the restaurant.

After the meal, the members of the observation delegation gathered in twos and threes to drink coffee.

Smith sat on a sofa in the corner, with several European experts gathered around him, their voices kept very low.

"Professor," the French expert asked, "how high do you think the success rate for tomorrow's ignition is?"

Smith did not answer.

The expert from Germany added, "According to the data they provided, the success rate should be over 99%. But data is just data..."

The Italian expert nodded, "Yes, the key is whether that data is actually real."

The Korean expert whispered, "What they showed us were all printed tables, not the real-time system. What if it's..."

Several people exchanged a look.

Smith finally spoke, his voice very soft, but every word was clear, "I have looked at their test records. All the signatures, all the dates, all the stamps—they are all very standard. But standard does not mean real."

He paused and continued, "Tomorrow's ignition—we'll see what it's really made of when we put it to the test."

Several experts nodded and stopped talking.

But they did not notice that in a corner not far away, Li Xiao was holding a drink, seemingly playing with her phone, but in reality, her ears were pricked up.

Ten minutes later, Li Xiao found an opportunity and quietly approached Lin Mo.

"Mr. Lin," she lowered her voice, "that group of foreigners is whispering, saying our data is too perfect, and they suspect it's simulated, not measured."

Lin Mo was chatting with the Japanese professor; upon hearing this, he paused slightly, but his face did not change at all.

He continued to chat for a few more sentences as if nothing had happened, then found an excuse to get up and walked toward Chen Xueming.

"Teacher Chen," he whispered, "someone in the observation delegation is questioning the authenticity of the data."

Chen Xueming frowned, "Questioning? On what grounds?"

Lin Mo shook his head, "It's not important. What's important is that tomorrow's ignition will reveal the truth."

Chen Xueming was silent for a few seconds, then nodded, "Alright. Then let them see it with their own eyes."

The dinner ended, and the members of the observation delegation returned to their respective rooms to rest.

Smith stood alone in front of the window, looking at that huge device outside.

Under the moonlight, it stood silently, like a silent giant.

He recalled the data he saw this afternoon—magnet 5.3 Tesla, First Wall 2500 degrees, Divertor 12 megawatts per square meter, plasma position error less than 0.5 millimeters.

Each item was precise to two decimal places, and each item was impeccably perfect.

It was too perfect.

Too perfect to be real.

He had seen too much data fabrication in his life—some intentional, some unintentional, some due to measurement errors.

But he had never seen such perfect fabrication.

If this was fake, then the person who fabricated it must be a genius.

If it was real...

He dared not think further.

A knock came from behind him.

"Come in."

The door opened, and the British expert walked in, holding two glasses of red wine.

"Professor, can't sleep?"

Smith took the wine glass and gave a wry smile, "You too?"

The British expert sat down beside him, and the two took a silent sip.

After a long time, the British expert suddenly said, "Professor, what if they really do ignite it?"

Smith was stunned for a moment, then said, "Then that would be the greatest day in the history of human energy."

The British expert looked at him, "Then do you hope they ignite it?"

Smith was silent for a long time.

Then he said softly, "As a scientist, I hope they do. As a competitor..."

He did not continue.

The British expert understood.

The two clinked their glasses and drank it all in one go.

Outside the window, the tokamak-3 stood silently in the moonlight, waiting for tomorrow's dawn.