197: Chapter 197 Three Days of Hellish Deep Space Training: Countdown to Departure!

Alien Civilization Voyage Timing, Day 133.

Near-Earth Orbit Space Base, high-G training pod.

The fourth-level rotational airflow pulled at Su Che's face from both sides.

He stared at the fixed reference point directly in front of him, pressing his ribs down, tensing his neck, and keeping his entire spine pressed firmly against the seat.

In his headset, Instructor Han's voice was even steadier than the sound of the rotation.

"Maintain."

Su Che didn't move—not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't.

The 4G load pinned him entirely to the seat, his blood all rushing downward, and the grey edges in his vision returned, wider this time than in the afternoon.

He increased his bite force a notch more.

The grey edges stopped, not expanding any further.

The centrifuge decelerated and stopped.

The hatch opened. Instructor Han stood outside, silent, scribbled two lines in his notebook, closed it, and glanced at him.

"Continue tomorrow."

This sentence was the highest praise of the day.

Su Che unbuckled his restraints, stood up, and walked out of the training pod without his legs wobbling in the slightest.

In the corridor, someone handed him a bottle of sports drink—it was the Deep Space Technician assigned to the group, wearing glasses and a few years older than Su Che.

His surname was Wei; he didn't talk much and spent all day clutching a data notebook.

Su Che unscrewed the cap, took two gulps, and walked toward the living quarters with the bottle in his hand.

Outside the porthole was Earth.

More than half of the blue sphere pressed against the lower edge of his field of vision, white cloud bands swirling over the Southern Hemisphere, as still as a photograph.

Su Che stood in front of the porthole for about ten seconds, drank the last of the beverage, and threw the empty bottle into the recycling chute.

The Quantum Communication terminal lit up.

Lin Waner sent a message: [ "Have you arrived? Have you eaten yet?" ]

Su Che looked at the text and replied with two words: [ "Arrived." ]

After a pause, he added another sentence: [ "Ate." ]

The other side was silent for about three minutes.

[ "How was the first day of training?" ]

Su Che placed the communication terminal on the table, didn't reply immediately, and first pulled up and scanned the training data for the day that Technician Wei had compiled.

Vestibular adaptation threshold: the morning assessment was negative thirteen units, and he had held up during the fourth-level rotation in the afternoon.

He replied: [ "It's okay." ]

[ "What does 'it's okay' mean?" ]

[ "Didn't faint." ]

[ "...Can you say a few more words when you speak?" ]

Su Che placed the communication terminal face down on the table and lay flat, resting on the back of his head.

The base's living module had artificial gravity; lying down was no different from being on the ground. On the ceiling, there were a few faint welding seam marks, left over from in-orbit construction.

He stared at those welding seams for a while, then picked up the communication terminal.

[ "There are two more training subjects tomorrow, and wrapping up the day after." ]

[ "I know, I'm counting." ]

Su Che put the terminal back on the table and didn't reply.

...

Alien Civilization Voyage Timing, Day 134.

Near-Earth Orbit Space Base, low-pressure, low-oxygen training pod.

The cabin pressure was dropped to 60% of standard atmospheric pressure, and the oxygen content was controlled at 16%.

Su Che worked continuously in this environment for nearly five hours.

First were basic cognitive tasks: reading data and determining fault priority. His brain was getting slower, but the error rate didn't exceed the limit.

Later, it switched to operational tasks, completing the luan bird's standard inspection procedures according to the prompts, with his hand movements about 10% slower than usual.

Instructor Han sat behind the monitoring console outside the pod and never left.

Confined space training followed the low-oxygen training.

It was a simulation pod slightly wider than a storage locker, stuffed with two sets of emergency equipment and a control panel.

The space was so small that he had to hunch over just to turn around.

Su Che completed three sets of system restart procedures inside, and by the time he exited the pod, his back was covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Instructor Han flipped to today's page in his notebook and scribbled several lines.

Two lines more than yesterday.

Technician Wei was waiting in the corridor, the data notebook already turned to a fresh page.

"Low-oxygen cognitive error rate." Su Che took the notebook and glanced at it.

"4.2%, the standard line is within 6%."

Su Che returned the notebook.

Instructor Han put away the notebook and, for the first time, spoke a complete sentence.

"You aren't from a pilot background, but your vestibular correction speed is faster than most pilots I've seen."

He paused. "I've guessed the reason: you have too many things on your mind. When rotating, you subconsciously look for logical anchor points instead of waiting for your body to adapt on its own."

After listening, Su Che raised his eyebrows.

Instructor Han turned and walked toward the command and control area, throwing a sentence back over his shoulder.

"Tomorrow is the final hurdle; it's harder than the last two days."

...

The message notification on the Quantum Communication terminal flashed several times on the desk in the living module.

Su Che had just finished showering, his hair not yet dry, and was sitting at the table reviewing today's technical data.

Lin Waner sent a long string of messages, likely asking how training was today, what he ate, if the base food was good, and if the cabin temperature was sufficient.

Su Che read them from beginning to end and replied with one message: [ "The data is all within the normal range." ]

[ "I'm not asking about the data." ]

[ "...The food is okay, the temperature is constant, and it's warmer than the tartary buckwheat tea you leave for me at home." ]

The other side was silent for a moment.

[ "Then drink more of that, don't just drink milk tea." ]

Su Che took out the bag of tartary buckwheat tea, placed it on the table, and stared at it for a while.

He slotted the communication terminal into the charging port and turned off the lights.

A little light reflected from Earth shone through the porthole—blue-white and very faint.

...

Alien Civilization Voyage Timing, Day 135.

Near-Earth Orbit Space Base, full-condition simulation pod.

This was a 1:1 replica of the luan bird's piloting and command section, even the smell was correct—a mixture of metal and sealant.

Instructor Han placed the mission sheet on the counter without any extra words.

"Begin."

First set: Near-Earth orbit change deviation.

The Deep Space Main God AI's simulation deduction system simulated an orbital maneuver error, causing the luan bird's orbital inclination to deviate by 0.7 degrees.

The value wasn't large, but if not handled, the error between it and the established mission coordinates would accumulate to 30,000 kilometers after thirty hours.

Su Che pulled up the attitude control module, recalculated the correction amount, entered the correction thrust sequence, and submitted it for execution.

System feedback: Orbital correction complete, error zeroed out.

Instructor Han scribbled a line in his notebook.

Second set: Earth-Moon communication delay emergency handling.

In the simulation scenario, the Deep Space Main God AI experienced a three-second delay window in the Quantum Communication link to the ground due to solar activity interference.

Three seconds wasn't long, but during this period, the main god ai received an instruction from the ground, requiring Su Che to judge whether to manually intervene within the delay window or wait for the link to recover.

Su Che placed the interference frequency band and the instruction content side-by-side on the screen and scanned them for ten seconds.

Wait for the link.

The reason was that the instruction content belonged to non-emergency task scheduling; the three-second delay wouldn't affect the execution result, while manual intervention would instead introduce additional errors from human operation.

System feedback: Handling correct, optimal solution.

The third set was the heaviest hurdle.

Partial failure takeover of the life support system.

The oxygen circulation module in the simulation pod alarmed a "failure," and the backup takeover procedure was three times more complex than the standard pilot operation manual.

Because the luan bird's life support system was designed with Su Che's personal participation, there were several custom nodes not in the standard manual.

Su Che didn't flip through the manual.

He directly opened the system's underlying logic, followed the emergency path he had reserved when designing it, bypassed the faulty module, and completed the takeover using the auxiliary oxygen circulation branch.

The whole process took eight minutes and thirty seconds.

The standard time was twelve minutes.

Technician Wei recorded the data in the corner, looked at it once, looked at it again, and tucked the notebook under his arm, standing still.

Simulation ended.

Instructor Han stood next to the main console, closed the notebook, and tucked it into his work suit's chest pocket.

"Three days, all items met the standard."

"The system you designed, you are more familiar with than any manual. This is an advantage, but also a risk. In deep space, no one can back you up; all judgments rely on you to carry them."

Su Che pushed the chair out and stood up.

"I know."

Instructor Han turned and walked away; the training ended right there.

...

Evening.

In the living module, Su Che reviewed the equipment list for tomorrow's departure one last time on the terminal.

Deep space work suit, life support equipment, Quantum Communication terminal, tartary buckwheat tea, ginger candy, and a small cloth bag that Lin Waner had stuffed into the very bottom of his luggage.

He hadn't opened it, nor had he asked what was inside.

Technician Wei knocked on the cabin door twice and poked his head in.

"System joint inspection will be completed before takeoff at 6:00 tomorrow; please confirm on your end, Chief Engineer Su."

Su Che nodded, and Technician Wei closed the cabin door and left.

He put down the terminal, picked up the small cloth bag, placed it on the table, and didn't open it.

Outside the porthole, Earth slowly rotated in orbit, cloud bands pushed over South America, and ocean currents drew an indistinct pattern across the Pacific Ocean.

Twenty-three million kilometers.

Departing from here, the luan bird's conventional cruise would first take a detour to survey the L2 coordinate.

The coordinate that his grandfather had calculated fifteen years ago—he was about to see it with his own eyes.

The Quantum Communication terminal lit up.

It was an encrypted short message from Lieutenant General Peng Zhenbang.

[ "Tomorrow morning, the luan bird will complete the final pre-departure check in near-Earth orbit. General Shen's words: Go out and take a look, and bring the things back." ]

Su Che put down the terminal, picked up the small cloth bag, and this time, untied the drawstring.

Inside was a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it—it was Lin Waner's handwriting, straight and upright, more serious than when she spoke.

It only had one sentence written on it.

[ "Wherever you go, it's all the road back." ]

Su Che refolded the paper and pressed it under the communication terminal on the table.

Outside the porthole, Earth was still rotating.

The 100,000-ton luan bird sat in the Dry Dock, having waited for so long.

Tomorrow, it was time to leave the nest.