Chapter 357 - 349 Storm_1

Yuri Borisov was full of confidence in this plan because it was one of the many proven schemes during the Union era, and its feasibility was absolutely beyond doubt; technically, it was completely viable.

In the past, Russia had actually brought it up before, but who would add burden to themselves for no reason during times of peace and prosperity?

Now, the members of the ISS found this mini centrifuge module quite appealing—it had gravity and, most importantly, was not expensive.

Russia itself could manufacture spacecraft at a much lower cost compared to Europe and America, with a maximum cost of two billion US dollars, which was quite easy for everyone to pitch in.

Just when the representatives thought that Russia was being unusually generous, Yuri immediately overturned their slight relief by stating Russia’s demands:

The main body of the centrifuge module must be constructed by Russia. However, the internal equipment can involve international cooperation, but the launch must use Russian rockets.

Then, looking at the launch schedule, oh well, there were six launch missions, and due to the size of the parts, it was necessary to use the over-capacity "Proton" rocket or the Angara A5, which meant that the launch costs would go through the roof, possibly equaling the manufacturing cost of the centrifuge module.

Just as the countries were preparing to curse Russia for its extortion, Montal’s expansion plan silenced them all.

NACA’s plan for three experimental modules plus three living modules was even more terrifying. Including the need to launch a spacecraft to install the trusses, it was estimated to cost forty billion US dollars, ten times that of the Russian centrifuge section.

Forty billion US dollars...

Obviously, America was only going to pay a part of it, at most a little over ten billion, with the rest to be distributed among the other countries.

The member countries of the ISS were also the main members of the European Space Agency, and they indeed could come up with several tens of billions of dollars over the next few years, but this money already had a designated purpose: the Selene project.

To avoid delays, France was pushing its space industry hard to accelerate the manufacturing of the Hermes spacecraft, despite domestic pressures to reduce working hours. With initial research and preparation, they had already reached the final stage of freezing the plan, delivering prototypes for trial production.

The main body of the HVY lunar rocket, VV-1, was also progressing rapidly after the engines were in place, with the support of engineers from the Aerospace Development Committee. The first prototype rocket had already been completed and was ready for hydrostatic testing on the vibration table.

The unusual speed behind these developments was naturally supported by the substantial funding provided by the European Space Agency, with Europe’s main countries’ space budgets already stretched thin. Even the UK, following the Queen’s call, scraped together the first installment of two billion US dollars.

Supporting the ISS expansion would mean another heavy burden for the countries involved.

Of course, there was another way, which was to divert funds from the Selene project. It was believed that this was what America would like to see.

...

B-level Base.

Three trucks, tightly covered and bearing radiation signs, entered the base under the escort of a line of police cars, then strictly followed a predetermined route toward the airport, where a Y-20 with its tailgate open was waiting.

Surrounded by the base’s personnel, they lowered the square containers from the trucks into the cargo hold and then handed over the paperwork to an officer of the transport aircraft team.

The latter carefully checked the items listed, and after ensuring there were no errors, he ordered the door to be closed, then entered the aircraft himself, waiting for the tower’s takeoff command.

The transport plane took off and headed west, before turning north, continuing until reaching a desolate depth.

Test Site 257 was once a reserve underground nuclear test site but was abandoned due to the halt of nuclear testing under a treaty. It is now repurposed as a testing ground for nuclear engines.

Three production version A100 engines were on board the transport plane, which, after being assembled at Qingshan Base, were sent here. Researchers stationed at the base would conduct around ten days of extended test runs on the engines. If all went smoothly, the three engines would be certified.

Then, the engines would be transported back to the base, to be installed in the "Storm" that had been waiting for them.

The name was finally set for the third space shuttle, which was also the first H2N nuclear-powered spacecraft.

All nuclear-powered spacecraft were to be named after wind phenomena, with the first being the special "Storm," while the fourth H2, nearly complete and designated for Project 909, was "Great Wall One" of the aerospace agency. The fifth, over 60% constructed, was named "Typhoon."

Among them, "Storm" was the first to be completed, having waited in the assembly workshop for quite some time, and was about to receive its heart.

If all went as planned, "Storm" should be able to make its maiden flight by Labor Day, initiating the first nuclear thermal-power engine in space.

However, the current "Storm" appeared somewhat desolate, its imposing frame hidden beneath a tri-color tarp.

There was no helping it; there was only one large hangar capable of accommodating the H2 assembly, which also had to accept giant rocket parts and large-section manufacturing and installation processes. "Storm" couldn’t be allowed to take up too much space.

Therefore, it sat humbly outside the hangar door, its tail removed, covered with a tarpaulin, unaffected by the daily air or rain and snow upon its integrated insulation layer.

Xiao Okada glimpsed the super spacecraft shrouded by colorful tarpaulin every time he passed by after work.

Lately, he had a lot on his plate – not the base’s work, but rather, an old friend from the Island Country.

Now, his titles were numerous: Honorary President of an inter-country friendship organization, Director of the Aerospace Technology Exchange Council, leader of the Pan-Asian Movement... a mess of titles, with Islanders from the mainland frequently inviting him to preside over various exchange meetings and the like.

While these were casual activities organized by civil societies, Xiao Okada was happy to partake in this "part-time job" in his spare time. However, yesterday, he ran into a bit of trouble.

Someone contacted him through an association wishing to meet and talk, claiming to be a Pan-Asianist who wanted to sponsor their activist group but wanted to meet the director first.

With a skeptical attitude, Xiao Okada reached out and soon discovered the other party had ulterior motives.

The man claimed to be a wealthy businessman, but he persistently tried to extract information from Xiao Okada. On high alert, Xiao Okada was ready to leave at once. After all, they were in a coffee shop near the base, and the visitor couldn’t do much. This move made the latter quickly reveal his true intentions.

It turned out that the man represented a certain politician, and his target of contact wasn’t Xiao Okada himself but rather to seek official support through Xiao Okada, aiming to promote aerospace technology exchange and collaboration between the two countries.

This included but was not limited to cooperative launches of rockets, satellites, and astronauts, with the hope that Xiao Okada could become one of the intermediaries for the cooperation.

Such a significant matter was naturally urgently reported to Lin Ju, who immediately passed it on to higher authorities, as they were merely facilitators; the topics the mysterious individual wanted to discuss were too sensitive.

But Xiao Okada didn’t feel relieved; instead, he had a sneaking suspicion that something big was about to unfold.