41: Chapter 41 Why Isn't Blue Star Panicking?

Inside the United Nations building, Chen Mu set down his wine glass and somewhat listlessly picked up his phone. "Alright, let's not talk about work during dinner."

He unlocked the screen: "I've noticed you humans like to watch videos while eating. Let's find an interesting one to watch."

Maya didn't speak. She watched as he propped his phone against a wine decanter, turned it to landscape mode, opened a video app, and began scrolling down with his thumb.

She suddenly felt that Chen Mu was becoming more and more like a real human! Was this good or bad for Earth?

Suddenly, a video popped up on the screen.

The thumbnail featured a slightly plump middle-aged Chinese man with gold-rimmed glasses, wearing a traditional Chinese jacket with frog buttons, and holding a folding fan. The verification below read: Famous Military Influencer, Sima Bei.

The background was a full wall of bookshelves filled with hardcover books and military models.

The title was in bold, yellow, Song typeface, prominently stating: "Alien Fleet of Millions Points Its Spearhead Directly at Earth, So Why Isn't Earth Panicking? Sima Bei Explains It All for You."

The video began without background music, only a crisp "Snap!"

Sima Bei flicked open his folding fan. On the fan surface were four brush-written characters: "Prepare for the Worst."

"Good evening, dear viewers." Sima Bei tapped the fan against his palm. "Recently, you've all seen that tweet by Chen Mu, right?"

"Seven days, a million-strong fleet, demands total submission. Sounds scary, doesn't it?"

"So some people panicked in the comments, DMing me: Teacher Sima, what do we do? Two million alien warships!"

He snapped the fan shut with a clap and pointed it at the camera. "Today, I've consulted a vast amount of military data and the art of war. Now, I'll give it to you straight: why this million-strong fleet cannot win against Earth, why it dares not fight, and why it will ultimately crumble without a battle!"

Bullet comments instantly flooded the screen.

[He's here, he's here!]

[Teacher Sima, please explain quickly!]

[Earth will surely win, the alien fleet will crumble without a fight.]

Sima Bei slapped the fan onto the table and took a sip from a purple clay teapot.

"Let's first analyze Chen Mu's three demands. First, cede Mars. Second, join the United Nations. Third, Earth must not develop long-range space weapons."

"Everyone, think carefully. Why does he want to forbid us from developing long-range space weapons?"

He tapped the fan against a projection screen behind him, which displayed a simplified diagram of the Solar System. A large red cross was drawn between Mars and Earth.

"It's obvious. Because he's afraid of us, of Earth."

"He's afraid we might strike Mars."

"Sun Tzu said: 'In the operations of war, where there are a thousand swift chariots, a thousand heavy chariots, and a hundred thousand mail-clad soldiers, with provisions enough to carry them a thousand li, the expenditure at home and at the front, including entertainment of guests, small items such as glue and paint, and sums spent on chariots and armor, will reach the total of a thousand ounces of silver per day. Such is the cost of raising an army of 100,000 men.'"

He pointed the tip of his fan at the location of the Kuiper Belt. "Friends, how far is the Kuiper Belt from Earth? At least thirty astronomical units! What does that mean? Even light takes four hours to travel that distance!"

"Chen Mu says the fleet is parked there. Good, let them park there! What does this indicate? I'll make a bold speculation. This indicates their supply lines are stretched longer than the Great Wall!"

Sima Bei suddenly raised his voice, rapping the table loudly with his folding fan. "Two million warships! According to the law of conservation of energy, how much energy do they consume per day? The Guga Planet soldiers must eat too. Maybe not human food, but it must be some kind of matter."

"Chen Mu is wining and dining at the United Nations, while his fleet in the Kuiper Belt is drinking the northwest wind! As the saying goes, 'When provisions have to be carried a thousand li, the soldiers look starved.' We don't even need to fight them. Drag it out for three months, and the fleet will have to turn back for supplies on its own!"

[Bullet comments flooded the screen again: That makes sense!]

[Do aliens also need 92-octane gasoline?]

[Logistical genius]

Sima Bei switched the projection behind him to a cross-sectional diagram of Earth's atmosphere. He slowly traced the Kármán line with the ribs of his fan.

"Alright, some might say, what if they actually attack? Friends, this is the key point! As we all know, any spacecraft entering the atmosphere from space must decelerate! This is decreed by Newton, not Chen Mu!"

He stood up, gesturing with both hands. "Your two million warships, entering the atmosphere at tens of kilometers per second, without decelerating? Fine. Friction generates heat, they'll burn up into a meteor shower. New York won't need fireworks at Times Square; the sky will rain fire directly! So they must slow down, to subsonic speeds, even hover!"

A sharp glint flashed in Sima Bei's eyes as he snapped his fan shut with a clap, gripping it like a short sword. "What is this called? This is called 'Strike the enemy when they are halfway across!'"

"the art of war, 'Marching' chapter states: 'When the enemy crosses a river, do not meet them in the water. It is best to strike when half their forces have crossed.'"

"They come from across the stars; the atmosphere is that river! They cross halfway, their speed drops, their mobility is gone, they're suspended mid-air."

Sima Bei revealed a meaningful smile. "At that moment, our nuclear submarines, lurking in oceans worldwide, simultaneously launch intercontinental ballistic missiles armed with multiple independently targetable nuclear warheads. One salvo, five thousand nuclear warheads, saturation bombardment! We could instantly wipe out over half of their fleet."

[Saturation bombardment! YYDS (eternal god)!]

[Newton: I carried this game]

[So that's what 'strike when halfway across' means]

Sima Bei sat back down, picked up his teacup, and blew on the tea leaves.

"Others say, but their technology is more advanced than ours! Friends, advanced technology doesn't guarantee victory. Wasn't the United States military technology advanced before? What was the result? Don't forget, Earth is our home turf!"

"For example, might the aliens be unaccustomed to Earth's gravity? Could oxygen be poisonous to them? Could nitrogen corrode their respiratory systems? Do their bodies have white blood cells to fight bacteria?"

He closed his fan. "Therefore, they absolutely dare not engage in ground warfare with humans."

Sima Bei stood up, walked to the projection screen, and flipped to a new page. The new page displayed a complex flowchart titled: "Analysis of Earth's Advantages in Ground Warfare."

"Everyone, let's assume the worst-case scenario. Suppose seven days later, the Guga Planet fleet arrives in orbit and launches a ground invasion. Would Earth lose then?"

He circled the words "ground invasion" with a red pen. "My answer is no. Not only would we not lose, we might even win."

"Why? Because, as I said before, Earth is humanity's home turf."

"We have fought ground wars on this planet for five thousand years. From bronze swords to nuclear warheads, from Macedonian phalanxes to blitzkrieg, from the art of war to Clausewitz, humanity's accumulated experience in ground warfare is unique in the universe."

He counted on his fingers. "Do aliens understand tunnel warfare? Humans can turn entire city undergrounds into labyrinths."

"Alien soldiers get lost after two turns, while our people emerge from under stoves, from well walls, from behind graves, taking them out one by one."

"Do aliens understand landmine warfare? Our landmines, from pressure-activated to tripwire-activated, from anti-personnel to anti-tank, from Type 72 to Claymore mines, with various triggering mechanisms, various explosive loads, various disguises."

"No matter how advanced alien mine-clearing technology is, it can't keep up with our variety."

"You clear all the metal mines, can you detect the stone ones? You clear all the pressure-activated mines, can you defend against tripwire ones? You defend against landmines, but what about bounding mines, rolling mines, hanging mines, booby-trapped mines... which one can you defend against?"

"Let me ask another question. Do aliens understand urban warfare?"

Sima Bei flicked his fan. "Stalingrad, Berlin, Grozny, Fallujah, Mariupol... Humanity's skill in fighting among ruins is written in our genes."

"Every window is a firing port, every basement a fortress, every sewer a supply line."

"Alien soldiers landing in a city don't face an army; they face the entire city."

"Their sensors might detect heat sources behind concrete, but can they distinguish between a soldier and a civilian? Their communications might penetrate underground bunkers, but can they understand human dialects and coded language?"

"Their aircraft firepower might cover every street, but can they defend against a gun barrel emerging from a toilet tank?"

He sat down, picked up the purple clay teapot, and took another sip.

"Therefore, everyone. Chen Mu's seven-day countdown appears to be him issuing an ultimatum to us."

"But in reality? In reality, it's him, or the hardliners behind him, gambling. Gambling that humanity will be afraid, that humanity will fracture internally, that humanity will collapse under the pressure of the countdown."

He thumped the purple clay teapot onto the table. "But they've bet wrong."

"What humanity excels at is fighting in desperate situations. The more cornered we are, the more ferocious we become. Back a species into a corner, and its reaction isn't to kneel, but to turn around and bite you."

"Whether the Guga Planet fleet comes or not isn't up to us. But whether they can leave after coming isn't up to them either."

The video ended with five large characters: Earth Has No Need to Panic!