40: Voyage

The very next day after Elon made his decision, Paradox Technology—a company that always managed to single-handedly stir global nerves—once again dropped a bombshell on the world.

Through all its media channels, with its usual high-profile flair, it announced a grand plan named [Babel Tower].

The plan's content was simple and direct.

Over the next decade, Paradox Technology would independently invest in and construct a super space station of spaceport scale in geosynchronous orbit.

Released alongside this announcement was a concept CG animation, personally rendered by the white flower, brimming with futuristic sci-fi aesthetics.

In the animation, a massive ring-shaped space station over twenty kilometers in diameter rotated slowly against Earth's azure backdrop, like the Ouroboros of myth.

Inside the station was an ecological zone filled with green plants and artificial sunlight, capable of sustaining tens of thousands of inhabitants.

The exterior zero-gravity core area was a vast spaceport capable of simultaneously docking dozens of ships, from jinglei-class transport vessels to even larger starships.

Countless transport ships and small shuttles weaved back and forth, painting a scene of busy yet orderly future activity.

This CG animation acted like a powerful stimulant injected into the global internet, once again triggering a tidal wave of heated discussion.

"My God! Is this real? It's like they've directly transplanted a scene from a sci-fi movie into reality!"

"Paradox Technology is amazing! This is a company truly focused on humanity's future! They're always dreaming, and they always turn those dreams into reality!"

"Babel Tower... such a profoundly meaningful name. In the Bible, the Tower of Babel was a symbol of human arrogance inviting divine punishment. But Paradox Technology's Babel Tower is humanity's declaration of unity, climbing toward the stars with our own strength!"

Countless supporters and tech enthusiasts placed Paradox Technology on a pedestal, hailing them as the "light of humanity" leading Human Civilization forward.

However, voices of doubt and opposition rose just as loudly.

"This is madness! Utterly overambitious!" an anonymous expert from the European Space Agency told the media with grave concern. "The difficulty and cost of building a space station of this scale increase exponentially. It's beyond the capability of any single commercial company, or even a nation. Paradox Technology is overreaching; they should be careful not to trip over themselves."

"This is yet another meticulously planned commercial hype!" a Wall Street Journal editorial bluntly criticized. "While their optical quantum computers and new materials haven't yet achieved full commercial profitability, they toss out another plan costing astronomical sums. This looks more like a giant bubble blown to boost investor confidence. They're likely trying to ride this momentum to take the company public."

Support and opposition, praise and slander.

The entire world was embroiled in debate over this overly ambitious plan.

But Paradox Technology, or rather Lei Wen, was never one for empty talk.

Just three months after the [Babel Tower] plan was announced, the second batch of ten brand-new [jinglei-class] transport vessels completed final assembly at the Wenchang assembly plant.

Their first mission was to deliver the first batch of prefabricated modules—produced in Tianqiong City's underground factories for constructing the [Babel Tower] space station's core framework—to geosynchronous orbit.

Paradox Technology declared to the world with the most direct action—

We are not drawing empty promises; we are making history.

...

Time raced forward amid the roar of Earth's civilization, an engine forcibly injected with future technology.

From April 2028, when the first [jinglei-class] transport vessel successfully completed its maiden flight, to September 2029.

This fleet of fifteen transport vessels, an indefatigable steel transport convoy, had already made over a hundred round trips between Earth and the Moon with pendulum-like precision.

Countless supplies, like trickling streams converging into a great river, were continuously transported to the Moon.

The Guanghan Palace Base today was no longer the lonely outpost with just a few core modules it once was.

It had expanded into a true lunar city.

Vast dome-shaped ecological zones, like transparent soap bubbles, covered several square kilometers of the lunar surface, teeming with lush vegetation.

A crisscrossing network of underground transit tubes connected research zones, living quarters, industrial sectors, and power centers.

And those setting foot on this land were no longer just the six pioneering astronauts.

Over the past year, the jinglei-class's vastly superior cargo capacity and safety compared to traditional crewed spacecraft had made travel between Earth and the Moon as commonplace as taking an international flight.

Wave after wave of top scientists, geologists, engineers, and even architects and sociologists from China and the United States flooded toward this new continent brimming with opportunity.

The total number of personnel stationed or rotating at the Guanghan Palace Base had approached one thousand.

On the Moon, this natural, perfect laboratory, they conducted scientific experiments unimaginable on Earth.

Physicists applied to Paradox Technology to build a giant radio telescope array on the far side of the Moon, free from Earth's magnetic interference, peering into the deepest secrets of the universe with unprecedented clarity.

Geologists, clad in spacesuits and driving lunar rovers, conducted the most detailed geological survey of the planet in history.

In the Ocean of Storms region, they discovered staggering reserves of ilmenite. In the permanently shadowed craters of the south pole, they found water ice resources sufficient to support tens of thousands of people for long-term habitation.

These precious resources would be mined by the diligent engineering robots at the base and directly used for the base's expansion and the construction of the voyager, greatly alleviating the pressure of transporting supplies from Earth.

For the first time, humanity was truly beginning to utilize extraterrestrial resources.

This was a milestone leap.

...

Meanwhile, in the massive spaceport dock built specifically for the voyager starship next to the Guanghan Palace Base, a steel giant carrying the hopes of all humanity was taking shape at an unbelievable pace, growing fuller day by day.

November 2029.

The construction of the voyager starship was nearing completion.

Only the final interior outfitting and system debugging remained.

When its first complete external photo, taken by a reconnaissance satellite in lunar orbit, was transmitted back to Earth, the entire world was once again rendered speechless.

It was a magnificent vessel that surpassed all previous human industrial creations, brimming with power and beauty.

Its length reached an astonishing 1,800 meters—equivalent to five Fujian-class aircraft carriers lined up end to end.

Its widest point was about 500 meters, and its highest point about 250 meters.

The dark silver hull, full of sharp angles and geometric lines, resembled a massive war spear poised to pierce the starry sea.

On either side of the hull were massive radiator panels and sensor arrays spread like wings.

At the stern were the twenty-four Hall thruster nozzles arranged like a honeycomb.

Inside this behemoth were two giant cold fusion reactors providing nearly limitless power, a complete ecosystem capable of supporting 7,000 to 10,000 crew members for long-term survival, and a weapons platform sufficient to make it the most formidable force in the Solar System.

Its total mass reached a terrifying 3 million tons.

A single ship was comparable to the total tonnage of a powerful nation's naval fleet on Earth.

What left all military and engineering experts utterly baffled was its construction speed.

Thanks to the intelligent engineering robots and fully automated construction processes provided by Paradox Technology, which required almost no human intervention,

a warship of such colossal scale took only one year from laying the first keel to completing the main structure.

To put it in perspective, even the most technologically advanced nations on Earth needed at least eight years to build a 100,000-ton aircraft carrier.

This overwhelming efficiency made everyone acutely aware once again of the technological generation gap brought by Paradox Technology.

The imminent arrival of the voyager was, of course, a tremendous boon for all of Human Civilization.

It meant humanity possessed its own armed force among the stars.

However, an extremely practical and sharp question emerged as this giant ship neared completion, placed squarely before China, the United States, and indeed the entire world.

Who does this ship truly belong to?

...

Washington, The White House, Situation Room.

A top-level video conference was underway.

On one screen were U.S. President Donald and his core national security team.

On the other end were China's leadership and Academician Chen Haikang, among others.

The atmosphere in the room was no longer filled with the cooperative optimism of the early days after the dome accord was signed; a subtle tension and opposition had crept in.

"...Gentlemen, the completion of the voyager is a source of pride for all humanity," President Donald began, his tone deliberately measured. "It is the fruit of sincere cooperation between our two great nations. Its ownership should rightly be shared by both our countries."

The Secretary of State beside him added, "We propose establishing a joint space force command committee composed of both China and the United States to manage the command and use of the voyager on an equal basis. The crew should also be composed of astronauts and soldiers from our two countries in a one-to-one ratio."

The proposal sounded fair, reasonable, and flawless.

But Academician Chen Haikang's brow furrowed tightly.

He knew all too well that over the past year, due to political turmoil within the United States, their contribution to the voyager had remained largely at the level of providing some initial funding and theoretical support.

It was China that had truly shouldered the vast majority of construction resource supply and transportation tasks.

Not to mention that the most critical automated engineering robots and materials provided by Paradox Technology were also funneled through Lightning Special Steel, a Chinese company, as an intermediary.

Now that the ship was almost built, they came forward demanding to "equally" share command?

"Mr. President, Mr. Secretary of State," the Chinese leader spoke slowly, his voice calm yet unyielding. "We also believe the voyager belongs to all humanity. However, its command structure must be unified, efficient, and impervious to any political discord."

"In the face of a crisis that may concern the survival of our civilization, a joint command committee composed of two nations, requiring votes and debates for every decision, would be a disaster."

"We propose that the ultimate command authority of the voyager should be held by the party that has contributed the most to this construction effort and demonstrated greater strategic resolve and execution."

The implication was clear.

The atmosphere in the Situation Room instantly grew tense.

Everyone knew that an intense struggle over the ownership of humanity's first starship had inevitably begun.

This ship was more than just a ship.

It symbolized the future.

It symbolized who, in the coming interstellar age, would represent Earth's civilization.

This was a power no one was willing to easily relinquish.