189: Chapter 189 Breaking the Formula Impasse, Personally Going to Seize the Mine

Chapter 189: Recipe Breakthrough, Personally Securing the Mine

Everyone knew very well that although Chamberlain had ruined the atmosphere, the issue of superconducting materials was a realistic problem that could not be bypassed.

Without the materials, blueprints were useless even if the entire orbit of Neptune was inlaid with golden panels.

Diana gently rested her hands on the tabletop, her tone steady and resolute, carrying no chill of offense:

"Meals must be eaten one bite at a time."

"I certainly cannot let everyone present choke to death."

"Therefore, regarding the technological assistance provided by the Longevity Faction, I will also present it to everyone step by step, lest there be too much information for everyone to digest."

The surrounding assistants delivered new documents one by one to in front of each person.

The new documents marked the complete process of a recipe:

Taking yttrium barium copper oxide high-temperature superconducting material as the substrate, doped with osmium isotopes, and irradiated with a specific frequency of laser at liquid nitrogen temperature for seventy-two hours, the current-carrying capacity was increased by four hundred times.

Chamberlain looked down at the page of the recipe in front of him, his lips parting and then closing again, and with his fingertip along the ratio steps, he slowly covered the row of precisely marked critical current density target values.

Patel beside him drew a sharp breath and said in a slightly hoarse voice:

"I have lived for so many years, and this is the first time I have seen someone use such an open and straightforward means to directly bypass the critical density."

Victoria Chen adjusted her glasses, lowered her gaze to stare at the last line of the recipe, her expression changing in shock,

"I do not understand..."

"Osmium isotopes, in all previous geochemical studies, have never been proven to have any lattice complementarity effect with copper-oxide superconducting materials, but the Longevity Faction has already completely dismantled this lock directly from the periodic table."

Biden, Harris, Graves, and Mark Milley and others once again went through the recipes in their hands line by line from beginning to end,

although they did not understand the specific parameters of superconducting physics, from the collective loss of composure of those scientists, it was enough to judge that

the recipe given by the Longevity Faction was a cross-era technology sufficient to subvert the entire field of materials science.

The technological foundation of the Deep State was not hundreds of years stronger than Earth, but was established from the very beginning on completely correct cosmic physical laws.

Mark Milley spoke after pondering for a moment:

"The engineering blueprint for the gravity well generator has no problem, and the recipe for the superconducting material has no problem either."

"But the problem now is that the process of the superconducting material itself is not complicated; the difficult part is the extraction of osmium isotopes, which requires centrifugal separation from platinum ore."

"At present, the global annual production of osmium is only about one ton, and this project requires around thirty tons."

Graves immediately took over the conversation, saying: "If production is not enough, increase production."

"Have our mining companies go directly to South Africa and Russia to mine platinum."

"South Africa is easy to talk about, but over in Russia..." Harris pondered slightly, then said:

"We can use civility before force; if we can talk, we talk; if we cannot talk, we now have some armed forces aided by the Longevity Faction in our hands. Making Russia agree to our platinum mining plan should not be too difficult."

Previously, under the mutual checks and balances of global nuclear deterrence, playing the diplomatic card with Russia at most resulted in verbal bickering.

But now, with the technology and equipment placed on the table by the Longevity Faction—things that could reshape even the physical laws of the Solar System according to their own needs—

in the hearts of most people present, they no longer regarded Russia as an opponent of the same magnitude.

Biden nodded slightly, placing his fingers on the stone tabletop where the engineering blueprint and the superconducting material recipe were laid out side by side:

"For the platinum mining in South Africa and Russia, the two lines of diplomacy and military can be advanced simultaneously."

"I agree with this plan."

Yet at this moment, Diana raised her eyes, nodded slightly toward Biden on the other side of the stone table, her tone concise and resolute:

"There is no need to go to that much trouble."

"I will personally make a trip to Russia and settle the matter of the platinum mine."

Mark Milley was slightly stunned, his body leaning forward by half an inch.

Graves followed closely and advised:

"Why trouble yourself to go personally for such a trivial matter? Just send people underneath to go."

Biden also gently rested his crossed hands on the edge of the table, looking at Diana and saying:

"Ms. Diana, we can handle the diplomatic paths of South Africa and Russia."

"You do not need to go personally."

Diana's tone remained steady, her phrasing concise, but every word was resolute:

"Any link involving the Ten Thousand Ship Slash project is no small matter."

"The result of the Ten Thousand Ship Slash will determine which faction's philosophy the Deep State will fully implement next."

"It concerns the ultimate showdown between the Longevity Faction and the Tech Faction, and who will win."

"If there is a flaw in the hurdle of obtaining platinum ore, dragging the entire timeline a beat slower, it will not just be a matter of a few tons of osmium."

"I must personally go to Russia and settle the matter of platinum mining on the spot."

Biden withdrew his hands resting on the tabletop and slowly leaned back against the back of his chair.

Harris and Graves exchanged a brief glance,

and after a moment of silence, Mark Milley also nodded slightly.

Wearing that fluid armor that even close-range shotgun blasts could not pierce, and holding that lightsaber that could completely paralyze the liquid zero regeneration program,

going to Russia to sit down and talk about peaceful platinum mining with a group of traditional military officials who were still studying when the T-14 main battle tank would be mass-produced,

this result would not have any suspense.

...

California, Mojave Desert, Starlink satellite ground station underground bunker.

This bunker was built deep in the Mojave Desert, directly below an abandoned Cold War-era ballistic missile early warning radar station,

originally built by the North American Aerospace Defense Command in the 1960s as a backup node to maintain satellite communications after the outbreak of nuclear war.

After acquiring this land, Musk remodeled the entire bunker according to the highest electromagnetic shielding standards.

All four walls were lined with multi-layer copper mesh and wave-absorbing materials, and the ventilation ducts were equipped with ultrasonic jammers, making any form of eavesdropping equipment completely ineffective here.

The Longevity Faction knew of Yuanzi's existence, and the Tech Faction naturally knew as well.

Before every deployment detail of the Ten Thousand Ship Slash competition officially landed, any information that could be intercepted by the Zeta Star advance intelligence device could not leave this room in any form.

At this moment, the focus of the entire audience was on the person sitting at the head of the long carbon-fiber conference table, Elon Musk.

The reason was very simple:

The Tech Faction had already handed the technological assistance on how to win in the Ten Thousand Ship Slash into his hands.

Prant sat on his left, with a bubbling cup of cola placed in front of him.

Edward Warren sat on his right, hands crossed and resting on the tabletop, his posture still maintaining that calm and composure customary of a Nevada senator,

but tonight, he draped his suit jacket over the back of his chair, his tie loosened by half an inch.

Sitting along both sides of the long table in turn were Marcus Lin, Victor Strauss, and Irene Zhao.

The three core scientists of the Starship Base each turned the documents just distributed beside their hands to the first page.

Further back were three new faces:

Patrick Colin, a veteran chip foundry giant in Silicon Valley, founder and chief architect of Global Semiconductor,

fifty-two years old, slightly plump, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, with a stack of chip design blueprints just pulled out from a pile of documents spread out before him;

Samir Rashid, former AI chip R&D director of Nvidia, forty-seven years old, lean and quiet,

clutching a red and blue dual-color marker in his hand, staring blankly at the document in front of him marked Task Processing Unit Architecture;

Caroline Feng, founder and CEO of quantum computing startup PsiQ,

thirty-nine years old, wearing a black turtleneck sweater, had already filled a whole page of architectural sketches on her tablet.

These three people were all good friends Musk had known in Silicon Valley for many years, and were now personally invited by him to join the Long Live Alliance.

Marcus Lin turned his document to the last page, his fingers tapping lightly twice on the paper surface.

Ever since that day in the underground experimental area of the Starship Base, when he saw that terrifying formula on the canopy, this was the first time he straightened his back again to sit among his colleagues.

Victor Strauss sat beside him, although still habitually rubbing the edge of his protective suit's cuff with his fingertips, those eyes full of intellectual brilliance were at this moment locked onto the key data on the document in front of him.

They had once watched with their own eyes as the conclusions they calculated pushed themselves to the brink of collapse,

but tonight, it was different.

In order to win in the Ten Thousand Ship Slash, the Tech Faction poured technological assistance into the Long Live Alliance at all costs, and every new blueprint that fell into their hands repeatedly shattered that desperate seal of pi equals 3.

They saw hope anew.

The future of humanity was by no means prisoners locked dead in an incorrect spacetime.

As long as the Tech Faction continued like this, continuously pushing over frontier technology and engineering data, they would definitely be able to rush out of this distorted spacetime.

Patrick Colin broke the silence first.

He turned the chip blueprints over and placed them on the table, casting a glance at Musk with those eyes that had played games with countless investors in Silicon Valley boardrooms for over twenty years, still carrying a slight beach leisure vibe.

"Elon, you are not being fair."

"Having contacted the Tech Faction of the Deep State for so long and run so many errands for Mr. Joshua, you only pulled me, Samir, and Caroline into the Long Live Alliance now."

"Do you know how long we have waited for this day?" Samir Rashid also followed up,

his signature calm tone when speaking remained almost unchanged, but a smile had already surfaced at the corners of his mouth.

"The three of us have each observed abnormal signals outside the circle for several months."

"From the infrasound abnormalities at the Starship Base to the unknown modulation frequencies of the space reflection array, they all pointed to the same technological source that could not be found."

"Only now do we know that the source was actually sitting right in front of me drinking coffee."