Chapter 10: Impossible

Time is short, the mission is heavy.

The biggest problem now is that he still doesn’t know the time flow rate of 1960.

That is, if twenty-four hours pass in 2020, how much time corresponds in 1960.

Twelve hours have already passed; in Lin Ran’s mind, he must quickly obtain the Fabian Society badge and return to 1960.

In 2020, he’s just an insignificant nobody; no one would notice if he vanished for any length of time.

But in 1960, he has Haines, a NASA engineer, right beside him—someone with minor fame within NASA.

After returning to 2020 and reviewing NASA’s official public records, Lin Ran learned that Haines was in fact a core member of NASA’s series of space programs in the 1960s.

If time permitted, forging a Fabian Society badge might also be a viable option.

But the biggest flaw now is that time doesn’t allow it.

Still, there are some issues—he knows what the badge looks like, but doesn’t know if it has any anti-counterfeiting features.

If it does have anti-counterfeiting features and someone spots it as a fake, new troubles will arise.

Therefore, from every perspective, obtaining the Fabian Society badge from Li Xiaoman’s family heirloom is the best solution.

“Xiaoman, I have a way to earn a huge amount of dollars in a short time, but this plan requires your cooperation.”

Last night, the two drove for four straight hours to return to America, meaning they arrived home at four a.m. after traveling under the stars; now only an hour and a half has passed, and Li Xiaoman had just fallen asleep when Lin Ran knocked on her door and called her to the third-floor common area.

Li Xiaoman’s anger was at its peak. She wasn’t like Lin Ran, who had just undergone transformation and could stay mentally sharp for three days and nights without sleep.

No matter how calm she usually was, or how ambiguous her relationship with Lin Ran, being dragged around like this was simply unbearable.

“Randolph, what the hell are you doing!”

“Even the biggest money-making plan—I just want to sleep right now.”

Lin Ran said: “If this plan succeeds, we can earn one hundred million dollars—or more.”

Li Xiaoman instantly snapped awake. Clearly, money was the most direct stimulant for the brain.

Especially when Lin Ran mentioned one hundred million dollars.

That wasn’t a small sum.

Although Li Xiaoman’s family background was indeed prestigious, she herself had no money.

After her parents died, she lived with her uncle and aunt in the ancestral home left by her grandfather; she occupied the third floor, while the rest was occupied by her uncle and aunt.

She had no idea how much property her parents had left her, and she suspected that even if there was any, her uncle and aunt wouldn’t give her a cent.

Second, although the house was nominally half hers, her uncle and aunt had no intention of granting her any ownership at all.

Finally, doctoral students in STEM fields might still receive scholarships, but she was pursuing a law doctorate—no scholarships at all, and tuition was terrifyingly high, tens of thousands of dollars per year.

That’s only for public universities; if she attended Columbia University, the cost would triple.

Otherwise, given her family background, she would have definitely gone to Columbia University—the hub of the Frankfurt School—to pursue her doctorate.

Besides working part-time and taking out loans, Li Xiaoman rented out her house just to barely make ends meet.

Later, when she became a lawyer and wanted to intern at a top law firm, she’d even have to pay them money herself.

Thus, the lure of money was undeniably immense.

Li Xiaoman asked first: “You’re not joking with me, are you?”

Lin Ran shook his head: “I never joke about things like this. Besides, why would I joke with you at six a.m., right after you went through all the trouble of bringing me back?”

Li Xiaoman said: “Give me two minutes—I’ll come to your room to talk.” She didn’t want her uncle and aunt to overhear this big deal.

Two minutes later, Lin Ran met Li Xiaoman in his room—her face still damp, clearly having washed up to regain clarity; now she was fully alert, back in elite mode.

“Look, last March, the White House announced at the fifth meeting of the National Space Council that America would return to the Moon before 2024—four years earlier than NASA’s original schedule.

And this document is NASA’s 2020 annual budget, approved on April 2, which includes rockets, the Orion spacecraft, the Lunar Gateway, and commercial lunar landers.

The commercial lunar lander program will begin risk verification this year, and subsequent bidding will adopt a multi-phase contracting approach.

Multi-phase contracting: the NextSTEP model, where NASA provides technical guidance while private companies handle commercial development.

NASA first used this model to support two commercial space firms, one of which was SpaceX.”

Li Xiaoman already regretted coming. She looked at Lin Ran like he was an idiot: “You’re not seriously telling me you want to bid for NASA’s multi-phase contracting, right?”

“Just the two of us?”

“I know your undergraduate thesis project was Apollo lunar landing—you think you actually participated in Apollo.”

Li Xiaoman thought this was even more absurd than teasing her—it was beyond absurd, more ridiculous than any Hollywood blockbuster she’d ever seen.

Lin Ran explained: “There are differences from what you imagine, but what I plan to do might be even more outrageous.

NASA is using a bidding process for commercial lunar landers; the winner will almost certainly be Musk’s SpaceX.

But clearly, whether from public information or the terrible personal relationship between Bezos and Musk, Blue Origin intends to claim a share of this pie.

If I can help Blue Origin win this project, how much would they pay me?”

Li Xiaoman was speechless: “Your premise is built on impossibility.

But how, exactly, are you going to help Blue Origin secure a NASA contract?

Are you the director of NASA or the head of the White House National Space Council?”

Lin Ran thought: If I had saved Kennedy in 1963, I might truly have become director of NASA.

Lin Ran said: “What if I can help Blue Origin return to the Moon ahead of schedule?”

Li Xiaoman stood up to leave: “Randolph, you’re truly ill. You need rest. Today I’ve heard a joke even more absurd than a joke.”

Li Xiaoman practiced her Chinese by insisting Lin Ran speak Chinese with her.

One called the other “Xiaoman-jie,” the other called him “Randolph”—when Chinese international students from New York State University heard them, they found it strange.

Lin Ran quickly grabbed Li Xiaoman’s hand: “Xiaoman, I know you think this is unbelievable.

But this is exactly what I’m about to do.

America successfully landed on the Moon in 1969 and completed six lunar missions afterward.

Yet now it cannot land again—even though all the historical technical materials still exist. During my stargazing trip to Cherry Spring, I figured out a core technical problem.

Once this technical problem is solved, retrieving the historical data makes it entirely possible to achieve a lunar landing using Apollo-era technology.

We need to make Blue Origin believe we can do it, use Bezos’s resources to carry out this plan, and get paid by Blue Origin.”