Ou Zhanpeng’s refusal did not deter Li Hui. He tried everything, pleading and begging, desperate to bring Ou Zhanpeng under the experimental group.
While others were unaware of Ou Zhanpeng’s uniqueness, he himself knew it all too well—he was the first human to undergo hypothermia and awaken normally. This made him immensely significant for research into low-temperature sleep.
However, no matter how generous the offers, Ou Zhanpeng remained focused on his training, stubbornly refusing Li Hui’s entreaties, regardless of how persuasive they were.
The conditions Li Hui offered were exceedingly favorable, so much so that even Shan Qiuyu felt that refusing him would be detrimental to Ou Zhanpeng's future.
“I’ve already faced death once. Surviving was pure luck. Do you want me to go through that again? I’m a perfectly good astronaut, and you want me to be a lab rat? That’s ridiculous! Do you think I’m out of my mind?” Ou Zhanpeng retorted.
He wasn’t entirely unmoved by the offers, but the thought of the aliens heading towards Mars extinguished any lingering desire.
If humanity couldn't handle the alien species, their future was uncertain. Rather than staying on Earth awaiting an unpredictable fate, it was better to gamble their lives and engage in a fierce battle with the alien species.
Moreover, Li Hui’s statements were contradictory. First, he claimed the temperature couldn't be below 15 degrees Celsius, then he said Ou Zhanpeng survived 9 degrees Celsius. It seemed no one here truly listened to him, and even within the research team, many harbored doubts about his claims.
Regardless, the technology of low-temperature sleep was ultimately applied to the warship. The expedition team bid farewell to their beds, sleeping in sleep pods daily.
Time flew by. It was already mid-May. The members of groups A, B, and C were largely finalized. Everyone had adapted to the high-intensity simulated training and could handle any situation with composure.
With just over a month left until departure, Shan Qiuyu suddenly announced that the warship was entering the assembly phase. To better understand the warship’s status, Group A would end their training early and soon ascend to space via spacecraft to participate in its assembly.
A wave of shock rippled through the crowd, especially among Groups B and C. They were essentially reserves. Now that Group A was heading to space while they remained at the base, it seemed all hope was lost.
Shan Qiuyu wished he could tell them that the higher-ups had only ever wanted Group A. The other two teams were formed solely as backups in case of unforeseen circumstances. While the current spacecraft was safer than ever, absolute certainty was impossible. What if Group A’s spacecraft encountered an accident during ascent, resulting in the loss of everyone?
Only in such a scenario would Group B have a chance to step up.
The probability of Group A experiencing an accident was negligible. The probability of Group B encountering a similar mishap was also approaching zero. Therefore, the three teams ensured an extremely high level of safety.
It was precisely for this reason that Group A had to ascend early. Barring any unforeseen events, Groups B and C would not need to go.
Indeed, up to this point, the members of Groups B and C still held great enthusiasm and hope. But reality was cruel, and Shan Qiuyu chose to keep the truth concealed for the time being.
May 24, 2065. Orbital altitude: 340 kilometers.
A small space station, composed of over a dozen module sections, floated quietly in orbit. Several engineering vessels were docked at each section.
Behind the space station, dozens of warship modules of varying sizes trailed like a train.
At 8:00 AM, the warship assembly project officially commenced. Ou Zhanpeng led a team of engineering vessels, navigating between numerous modules. He quickly located Module One. Eight engineering vessels docked sequentially, collectively exerting force to lift the heavy warship module 500 meters upwards.
Their posture and movement resembled a swarm of ants lifting a plump bean pod.
"Module One in position!" Ou Zhanpeng reported to the space station.
"Begin," came the reply.
"Received!" Ou Zhanpeng first confirmed that the module’s orientation was correct before operating a mechanical arm to press the activation button at the rear of the module.
The module’s outer shell opened, and a soft, balloon-like inflatable mold slowly unfurled, gradually expanding to form a massive, complex geometric component.
Throughout this process, the eight engineering vessels maintained the module’s position until the component was fully formed.
Ou Zhanpeng felt a sense of profound emotion. It was merely a sudden burst of inspiration that led him to the concept of solid-smoke armor, but he never anticipated it would be used on a new warship so quickly.
When he learned of this, he felt as if he had lifted a rock only to drop it on his own foot.
Moments later, two engineering vessels approached, gripped the component with their mechanical arms, and slowly towed it aside, appearing like two soybeans pushing a watermelon.
The inflatable mold continued to unfurl, and the second component was quickly formed.
Next came the third, fourth, and then the fifth.
But this was not the end. They immediately located Module Two, and the two modules were joined, continuing the inflation and molding process.
Once the already inflated components solidified, several engineering vessels, under Ou Zhanpeng’s command, towed the giant components closer. Like carpenters crafting furniture, they used massive slot structures to connect several of these enormous components.
As more components were spliced together, the head of the warship gradually took shape.
Over the radio, Ling Xiao couldn’t help but comment, "Whose idea was this anyway? Can we really build a warship with this stuff?"
"If they say we can, then we can," Ou Zhanpeng replied.
Fearing he would be drowned in a barrage of spit, he dared not reveal whose idea it was. Even Ling Xiao was unaware of the full story.
The authorities were not only using solid-smoke armor but using it extensively. The armor thickness on the hull alone was over 6 meters.
Don't mistake solid-smoke for a shoddy substitute. Although it looked unremarkable, its performance was unexpectedly excellent. It was lightweight, strong, and resistant to radiation and high temperatures. It could even withstand direct laser照射 for a period.
Furthermore, the new ship utilized an improved formula, incorporating anti-laser components, making it more durable and resilient than traditional solid-smoke.
It was known that in space, without magnetic field protection, the environment outside the warship was far harsher than near Earth. If the entire outer surface of the warship were made of steel, the armor alone would weigh thirty to fifty thousand tons.
However, using solid-smoke with equivalent protective capabilities reduced the weight to just over two thousand tons.
While its strength was not comparable to steel, it could partially replace steel.
The only drawback of solid-smoke was its rapid aging and relatively short lifespan. Within three to five years, it would become unusable due to excessive degradation.
However, aging was not a significant issue. Solid-smoke was inexpensive. The protective layer could be replaced directly, and there would be no need to return to base for maintenance. A batch of raw materials could be carried on board, and the component could be formed using an inflatable mold, allowing for a complete overhaul in a short period.