Chapter 681 - 662 Listening

"China’s GDP has broken through the 90 trillion RMB mark for the first time, with the high-tech industry’s proportion of output value soaring rapidly."

On April 11, the National Bureau of Statistics finally released last year’s economic data report.

It was supposed to be published at the end of February or early March, but due to the chaotic timing of various major plans last year, the Bureau took an extra month to sort it out.

Lin Ju browsed through the emails pushed by the internal reference website, finding the data consistent with external sources, but some analyses were more detailed and comprehensive.

In 2017, the GDP reached 92.3 trillion RMB, about 12.4 trillion US dollars, with a per capita income of 65,500 RMB and a growth rate exceeding 16%.

By comparison, America’s figure also hit a new high, reaching an astonishing 21.8 trillion US dollars, which compared to last year’s 19.6 trillion, also achieved a growth rate of 11%.

Looking at the data, the two super economies were almost neck and neck in rapid development, but this year’s exchange rate had barely changed from last year, remaining stable at 6.7, indicating that purchasing power had relatively little fluctuation.

Clearly, one superpower is openly flooding the market, while the other is stealthily opening the sluice gates, both injecting more vitality into the world economy.

Lin Ju couldn’t remember the specific figures from the original timeline, but he had an impression that America’s GDP had exceeded 20 trillion US dollars and China’s had surpassed 100 trillion RMB, the former supposedly in 2018 and the latter around 2020.

The impact of the space race was evidently huge, foreseen to produce a positive effect on the surface.

Particularly since the GDP growth rate for both broke through 10%, a feat typical only of the decade before the 2010s.

However, according to the suggestions of several experts in the internal reference article, it was hoped that various major projects would slow down in the years to come to prevent economic overheating, stating that the current boom carries certain risks and advising to maintain stability as the priority.

Lin Ju didn’t know if the higher-ups would adopt these opinions, but for now, it seemed that there were no plans to cut the budgets of various space programs, and Director Zhong Cheng of the Aerospace Development Committee was still generously supporting new projects.

"Knock, knock"

The half-open door was knocked upon, and Zhong Cheng entered directly and sat on the sofa. After taking a sip of tea to moisten his throat, he said:

"We’ve lost a humanoid robot, number 14 burned up."

"??"

"Just half an hour ago, number 14’s battery exploded while it was charging outside the living quarters. The main body has been destroyed, and astronauts are currently dealing with the debris urgently; no other damage or casualties were caused."

"How could a nickel-hydrogen battery... Oh, I suppose it’s possible."

Lin Ju’s first thought was that the exploration robots designed by New Yuan typically used nickel-hydrogen batteries, which are very stable. But he quickly remembered that number 14 was different.

Number 14 was an early model transformed into an emergency unit and used high-performance lithium batteries, which inevitably produced lithium dendrites over time. Continuous growth of lithium dendrites could pierce the battery pack’s separator, causing fire and explosion.

Lithium battery combustion doesn’t require additional oxygen; it already carries its own oxidizer, making it impossible to prevent.

Although the electrical control system of the Warrior Two series was very sophisticated, it was designed for Earth, and hastily adapting it for space carried a significant risk of losing control.

Number 14 wasn’t as costly as other spacecraft, but the loss of such a well-tested assistant was still regrettable.

"Should we stop using the other three, even though they’ve all switched to nickel-hydrogen batteries? We should still investigate any design issues."

"That’s what I’m thinking too. Lucky that 14 didn’t go into the living quarters to charge, otherwise..."

Zhong Cheng put down his tea cup, unable to hide his fear of the scenario he had imagined.

Even though the astronauts typically wouldn’t allow these dirty robots into the living quarters, the Aerospace Development Committee did have contingency plans for astronauts to manually repair and upgrade the robots. A mishap there would be a truly significant loss.

"I’ll have someone re-examine the design for hidden dangers immediately, and the next batch of humanoid robots to be sent up needs to have a more specialized design, especially those that will need to enter the living quarters in the future.

Although we can’t make this public, all knowledgeable teams should be alerted to raise their vigilance. Taking shortcuts in space travel just won’t cut it,"

"We’ll discuss all that later; it mustn’t interfere with normal work."

Logically, this incidents should be considered a major accident, but Zhong Cheng wasn’t planning on disrupting the normal operations because of it. At worst they would just hide all the robots in the cave to hibernate. There was no time for an internal investigation at this critical juncture.

"The main reason I’m looking for you is another matter. Dawn IV is set to launch in two weeks. France has proposed that the Guanghan Palace Base and Yushu Base merge together, or that the Huayin Organization gets involved in the joint lunar construction project by United Mining. The other parties are all very supportive of this."

"This is absolutely not possible!"

Lin Ju refused without even thinking. The security level at Yushu No.1 Base was much higher, and there was a large amount of classified equipment. How could they reveal that so easily?

"The Aerospace Development Committee wouldn’t agree either, but the main issue we’re facing is the proximity of Guanghan Palace Base to Yushu Base—it’s going to cause some problems down the line."

After the discovery of subsurface ice at the Kuom Impact Crater, an extensive area around it had been thoroughly surveyed. Although it was proven that the ice content was far beyond expectations, the short-term easily exploitable ice was only within the crater and around its immediate vicinity.

Furthermore, due to the terrain, there were not many suitable locations for bases around Kuom Impact Crater.

The distance between America’s Columbus Camp, Guanghan Palace Base, and Yushu Base was no more than 10 kilometers—that’s just a fifteen-minute ride in a lunar rover.

It was hard not to cause a security breach under such conditions, with every action being clearly observed by the others. This was highly detrimental in the long run.

It was manageable now, as all the bases were still in the early stages of construction, but NACA had made up its mind to carry out a bi-monthly Moon landing plan named "Centaurus". I heard that another SL-X was assembled and coming off the production line. The Dawn project was also making rapid progress; it would become very troublesome in just a year or two.

Lin Ju pondered deeply and realized that military defense was taboo and could not be implemented, and direct expulsion could easily provoke targeting, especially since the Moon had no cover, making it impossible to defend against.

Drawing territorial lines could avoid this to some extent, but the international community would certainly not allow arbitrary land grabs... Wait, land grabs?

"Director Zhong, have you ever thought about us building a wall, enclosing not just the base, no, all the areas we want. This would prevent illegal migration... I mean illegal observation.

John’s Mercury-Selenium wall has already started construction. I think we could also use space cement or ice, steel, forming a large circle of walls by laser smelting—under the pretense of dangerous laser deflection. How about that?

meters, 15 meters high should be enough, right?"

Director Zhong’s eyes widened; he felt that there was something strangely familiar about this conversation, as if he had heard it somewhere before.

...

Central Guizhou, Liupanshui.

Lu Qun cut the red satin ribbon amidst the clicking of cameras and announced to the lens with a beaming face:

"I announce that China’s first high-precision laser gravitational wave observatory is officially in operation!"

A large crowd of Asteronomical Association members surrounded him, applauding wildly.

Aside from the ruggedly simple laser interferometer aboard the "Departing Fire", the elongated building they were in housed the country’s first large-scale laser interferometer gravitational wave observatory.

Its sensitivity was still inferior to America’s LIGO, and it was much smaller in scale. However, it was built as a ground-based test unit for technology verification after Lu Qun had obtained New Yuan technology and financial support. Its principal purpose was to validate the design ideas for the "Tianqin" project.

The precision wasn’t high, but it was adequate, and it basically met the design specifications. It was a significant breakthrough in "zero" for the field domestically, and the Astronomy Association was very pleased.

The "Tianqin" project, which consisted of space-based satellites, would still need a good amount of time. The period in between was perfect for accumulating experience.

President An Maowei of the Capital Astronomy Association clapped vigorously, offering his congratulations while also expressing a bit of regret:

"For now, the Liupanshui observatory can only serve as a teaching tool. Who knows when it will be able to detect gravitational waves again. Such opportunities are really once in a lifetime."

Lu Qun replied, "The events capable of triggering its response are either collisions of supermassive black holes, like those at the center of the Galaxy, or they have to be extremely close to us."

An Maowei responded, "Then those studying gravitational waves actually have some use out of their devices... They would hope to detect waves every day."

Lu Qun smiled, seeing the Liupanshui observatory as merely a transition with almost no real-world application – a pure collaboration. If domestic astronomers didn’t come to use it, he wouldn’t have invested much energy in it.

However, machines differ from humans; as long as it’s powered, the Liupanshui Gravitational Wave Observatory would faithfully listen to the oscillations from spacetime, never slackening its efforts.