95: Antimatter technology

The torrent of time surges on, and the train of Human Civilization races forward on the track named "Technology" with an acceleration that would have dazzled our predecessors.

The former world hegemon, the American Union, now presents a completely different social landscape.

Elon had long since resigned from the presidency, a position where symbolism outweighed actual power, and retreated behind the scenes. Because on that presidential throne, regardless of who sat there—even if it were a chimpanzee wearing a tie—it would not cause the slightest deviation in the country's trajectory.

For what truly controlled the pulse of this superpower was no longer the executive orders signed in the Oval Office of The White House, but that invisible yet omnipresent "knowledge manager."

This super artificial intelligence, created by Paradox Technology, had already rooted its tentacles deep into every fiber of American society.

From macro-level economic regulation and resource allocation to micro-level traffic light management and community security, and even the career planning and health monitoring of every citizen, the "knowledge manager" maintained the operation of this massive state machine with absolute rationality and efficiency.

Under the rule of this precise algorithm, partisan strife became a joke in history books, and corruption and inefficiency were suppressed to the minimum. The new American society experienced a utopia that only existed in ideals in advance, although for most new Americans, there was no freedom in this utopia.

Yet, beneath this calm surface, Elon, the retired former president, had built an even more awe-inspiring business empire. His name no longer represented just one person, but a force that, on the surface, was enough to influence the economic lifeline of the Solar System.

Neal Stephenson had once predicted the rise of mega-corporations, and Elon's Nikola Group was the ultimate manifestation of this prophecy.

Riding the tailwinds of post-civil war reconstruction and deep, intricate cooperative ties with Paradox Technology, the Nikola Group became one of the first pioneers in human history to enter heavy space industry on a large scale. While other companies were still gloating over obtaining a ticket to space, Elon had already waved his hand and, with the help of Paradox Technology, established two massive private space shipyards in geostationary orbit and lunar orbit, respectively.

These two shipyards worked day and night, consuming and producing resources from Earth and the Moon. Massive robotic arms danced in the vacuum, and welding sparks flickered like stars.

The Nikola Group became one of the very few super-corporations, aside from Paradox Technology and the military-industrial complexes of various governments, that possessed the capability to independently design and build interstellar spacecraft from start to finish. From light shuttles to heavy mining transports, ships bearing the "Nikola" logo were now spread across every corner of the Solar System.

But Elon's ambition went far beyond shipbuilding. In the orbits of Jupiter's two massive moons—Ganymede and Callisto—and beyond the red sky of Mars, floated several super industrial space stations and orbital storage centers, fully funded and built by the Nikola Group.

These behemoths, like monsters entrenched on the shipping lanes, formed the bottleneck of the early interstellar era of the Solar System.

With the popularization of anti-gravity technology and the iteration of ion thrusters, countless "gold diggers" harboring dreams of striking it rich drove crude spacecraft toward the asteroid belt, a place full of opportunity and danger.

They searched for rare metals like platinum, iridium, and palladium amidst the flying rocks, risking their lives to mine shipfuls of precious ore. Yet, when they returned fully loaded, they found themselves facing a headache-inducing problem: the high cost of return propellant and Earth's stringent environmental entry regulations.

At this point, the Nikola Group's orbital storage centers became their only choice.

"Either sell the ore directly to us—fair prices, honest dealings—or pay a storage and processing fee, and we will refine the ore and transport it back to the Earth market for you." This was the rule set by the Nikola Group, and it was also the unspoken rule of this starry sky.

Relying on this near-monopolistic logistics and processing system, the Nikola Group held the lifeline of resource flow in the Solar System, and almost every piece of rare metal transported from the asteroid belt back to Earth had to pass through Nikola's ledger.

Even more daunting was the fact that the Nikola Group had formed a private security fleet possessing dozens of ships with formal combat capabilities.

Although these warships were nominally civilian escort ships, anyone with a discerning eye could see that the particle accelerator cannons and missile silos they were equipped with were no different from the configuration of the regular military.

At this moment, the industrial capacity, logistics transport capability, and potential military projection power possessed by the Nikola Group had far surpassed the vast majority of sovereign states on Earth, even leaving a certain populous country in South Asia far behind.

In a sense, Elon had become the uncrowned king under this starry sky, the emperor of a vast business empire hovering on the edge of the Earth Council's jurisdiction.

But, twenty years have passed; is the Elon of today still the same tech genius who simply longed for the stars back then?

...

No matter how powerful the Nikola Group was, it was ultimately just an extension of the capital logic of the old era into the interstellar era. Faced with a grander narrative of civilization, the concept of the nation was quietly fading.

Under the subtle guidance of Paradox Technology and the joint promotion of visionary leaders from various countries, the identity of Human Civilization was replacing narrow nationalist concepts. Now, most people had realized that in the vast cosmic forest, Earthlings were a whole, sharing honor and disgrace, and bound by life and death.

To adapt to this trend, and more importantly, to concentrate the wisdom of all humanity to overcome those ultimate problems hindering the advancement of civilization, the Earth Council passed a historic resolution: to integrate the world's top scientific research resources and establish the Earth Science Research Center.

The location of this center was not placed in the capital of a traditional technological powerhouse, but settled in a beautiful island city on the southeast coast of China—Xiamen. The climate here was pleasant, land and sea transportation was convenient, and it was far from sensitive geopolitical areas, symbolizing a new era spirit of openness and inclusiveness.

Today's Xiamen has had its skyline completely reshaped. By the sea, clusters of sci-fi-style buildings have sprung up; these are the main buildings of the research center. And deep in the Wuyi Mountains, hundreds of kilometers away, relying on the solid granite geological structure, the most magnificent scientific wonder of humanity—the latest model of the "Zhurong" super-large hadron collider—is roaring day and night.

It gathered the best minds from all over the world. Scientists of different skin colors and languages worked side by side here. They no longer engaged in infighting for their respective countries' patent barriers, but cooperated to unravel the mysteries of the universe.

This was the lighthouse of human wisdom and the most advanced frontline for breaking through technological barriers.

Just today, a black shuttle bearing the logo of the Interstellar Affairs General Bureau landed silently on the exclusive landing pad of the Wuyi Mountain branch of the research center.

The cabin door opened, and Lei Wen stepped out.

This was his first public trip after officially taking office as the Director of the Interstellar Affairs Bureau of the Human Federation, but he did not bring any entourage, nor did he notify any media.

He wore a simple black trench coat, his gaze deep, as if he could see through the bustling scene before him into the fog of the future.

The first thing he did after taking office was to come here, because just a few hours ago, the "white flower," which had been silently monitoring global scientific research progress, reported news to him that was enough to perk him up: there might be a breakthrough in antimatter technology.

Accompanied by the person in charge of the research center, Lei Wen took a deep elevator straight down to the "Zhurong" experimental core area, two thousand meters underground in the Wuyi Mountains. The level of security here was so high that it even exceeded that of a base storing nuclear weapons.

"Director, welcome." The Chief Scientist in charge of the project was a physicist named Dr. Li Jingheng, who had gray hair but was full of vigor. His eyes were bloodshot—traces of days of sleeplessness—but the fanatical light flickering in those eyes was brighter than any light.

"Dr. Li, let's get straight to the point." Lei Wen did not exchange pleasantries and went straight to the topic, "According to the information I received, you saw something incredible in the magnetic confinement bottle."

Dr. Li Jingheng took a deep breath, and his fingers called up a complex data model on the holographic console.

"Yes, Director. You know that the existence of antimatter has long been theoretically proven. We have even long since developed positron cannons based on the principle of huge energy generated by the mutual annihilation of positive and negative electrons. But those are only electrons. Only the mutual annihilation of antiprotons—the antiparticles of protons like hydrogen ions—can truly unleash the true power of antimatter. We have the ability to manufacture antihydrogen, but the biggest problem with antihydrogen has never been manufacturing, but preservation."

Pointing to the model of the vacuum chamber in the center of the screen, which was entangled by countless magnetic field lines, he explained in a hurried tone: "Once antimatter comes into contact with positive matter, it will instantly annihilate, releasing huge energy. In this environment on Earth, which is full of positive matter, preserving antimatter is like trying to wrap fire with paper. Our previous electromagnetic traps could only maintain their existence for a fraction of a second."

"However," Dr. Li Jingheng's tone changed, "thanks to the strong interaction material samples provided by the Faleim People and our in-depth research on the properties of super-gravitons, we have designed a brand-new spacetime freezing bottle."

"We used the weak anti-gravity field generated by super-gravitons to create a gravitational potential well within the vacuum chamber, suspending the antiprotons in absolute void, making them completely free from contact with any container walls. At the same time, using superconducting coils made of strong interaction materials, we built a super magnetic cage with an intensity millions of times that of the Earth's magnetic field, locking the antimatter firmly inside."

"And the result?" Lei Wen pressed.

"The result is..." Dr. Li Jingheng pressed the play button.

On the screen, footage captured by a high-speed camera showed a small mass emitting a faint blue light, quietly floating in the very center of the vacuum chamber. It looked so calm, so beautiful, yet it contained the power to destroy the world.

"We successfully preserved 0.1 micrograms of antihydrogen atoms and have maintained it for a full 72 hours! Its state is very stable, and no annihilation reaction has occurred!"

Lei Wen looked at the blue light, his brow gradually smoothing out.

0.1 micrograms sounds insignificant. But on the level of physics, this represents that humanity has finally crossed the most difficult threshold between "discovery" and "utilization."

"I think you know better than I do what this means, Director." Dr. Li Jingheng's voice was very excited, sounding like a child with an old man's voice.

Lei Wen certainly knew. This meant a complete revolution in energy and propulsion technology.

Although the current nuclear fusion reactors have energy conversion efficiencies far exceeding those of fossil fuels, in reality, less than 1% of the mass is converted into energy, and most of the material is still discharged as waste. However, the mass-energy conversion rate of the annihilation reaction between antimatter and positive matter is a terrifying 100%.

According to Einstein's mass-energy equation E=mc², the energy released by the annihilation of just 1 gram of antimatter and 1 gram of positive matter is equivalent to the explosion of 43,000 tons of TNT, which is about three times the power of the Hiroshima atomic bomb.

If it could be used for spacecraft propulsion, it would be a qualitative leap. Although current ion thrusters are more advanced than chemical rockets, they still need to carry a large amount of working fluid as propellant, and a large part of the spacecraft's payload is occupied by fuel. But if an antimatter engine were used, the situation would be completely different.

"Antimatter-catalyzed nuclear pulse propulsion," Lei Wen muttered to himself, "or going further, pure antimatter photon propulsion."

If it were the former, using trace amounts of antimatter to trigger nuclear fusion or fission could greatly improve reaction efficiency and specific impulse, increasing the spacecraft's acceleration capability by several orders of magnitude. Currently, interstellar travel from Earth to Mars might take weeks, but with this kind of engine, it might only take a few days.

If it were the latter, it would directly use the high-energy photons—that is, gamma rays—produced by the annihilation of positive and negative matter as thrust, which could theoretically accelerate the spacecraft to 50% of the speed of light or even higher.

"If we can make this technology practical," Lei Wen looked at Dr. Li Jingheng, his gaze burning, "our travel time to Proxima Centauri will be shortened from four hundred years to..."

"If we use an antimatter-catalyzed fusion engine, we can increase the flight speed to about 20% of the speed of light. Considering the acceleration and deceleration process, it would take about 80 to 100 years." Dr. Li quickly gave the calculation result, "But if we can overcome the mass production problem of antimatter and build a pure antimatter engine, this time can be compressed to within 50 years!"

Fifty years. For modern humans whose lifespans have been significantly extended, this is no longer an exile of no return, but a trip that can be taken at any time.

Humanity will truly be liberated from the Cradle of the Solar System and possess the ability to touch neighboring stars.

But the other side of this double-edged sword is equally chillingly sharp.

Lei Wen was silent for a moment, then said slowly: "Dr. Li, you should know that if this technology is weaponized..."

"Yes, I know." Dr. Li's face also became serious, "If a missile carrying a few grams of antimatter is detonated within the atmosphere, its power is enough to wipe out a super metropolis. Moreover, this kind of bomb has no nuclear radiation residue, no critical mass limit, and can theoretically be made very small, making it extremely difficult to intercept."

"Even," he paused, his voice lowering, "if someone were to build a ton-scale antimatter bomb and detonate it at a weak point in the Earth's crust, it could even trigger a global geological disaster, tearing apart continental plates... that is a true world-ending weapon."

"You must ensure strict confidentiality; the security level of this research has been raised to the [Civilization] level." Lei Wen said seriously.