Defend Namsan Park

Chapter 105 Old Baldy Wang and the Supreme Program

Wei Mao underwent numerous examinations and tests over three days, including physical, psychological, and mental examinations, which were commonplace and routine for him. From the day he became a mecha pilot, his body, life, and soul no longer belonged solely to himself, but to all of humanity. He was a precise and indispensable cog, the core of a vast and complex system—the mecha itself, and contemporary human society. His superiors frequently engaged in in-depth and frank ideological exchanges with them—this meticulous communication was part of their ideological and political education. In this special era, for a particularly special group of people, the Political Department of the Central Military Commission shouldered a responsibility no less significant than the technological research and development in the Science City: ensuring that the mecha pilots stood on the same side as humanity.

Throughout human history, there has never been a profession as stressful as that of mech pilots. They often need to make precise judgments and decisions in extremely short time to save hundreds of millions of lives; the slightest mistake can lead to total failure. Those who can remain clear-headed under such pressure are not normal people; they may be paranoid, withdrawn, antisocial, or even have organic brain diseases. The People's Liberation Army has always attached great importance to political and ideological construction, but ordinary Party building work has little effect in the above scenario. The mech pilot unit is essentially a mental health unit; even democratic life meetings cannot be held normally, causing the political department considerable headaches.

The closer one is to the core of human society, the more one can perceive that the current operation of society is based on a fragile balance, like a taut reed, but the balance is maintained by some accidental and enormous forces, as if a huge boulder is upside down on a cliff.

Bai Shu once said to Shang Lu: We should be glad that China is an atheist country.

The pokeweed asked why?
Bai Shu said that this eliminated the possibility of the giant machine pilot becoming a saint—do you believe that if we were born in most other countries in this world, Wei Mao would have been made a saint long ago?

Maintaining rationality in a mad world is difficult, and Shang Lu couldn't imagine what the world would be like without a strong political force to sustain it. He had once heard from his staff officer that the most crucial department within the Party organization was now the Party's Propaganda Department, which was given a significant responsibility: to severely crack down on and suppress cults. Before the Great Collapse, the 610 Office was merged into the Propaganda Department and existed as a core, permanent institution. The Propaganda Department had the power to censor all circulating information to ensure that all suspicious ideas were nipped in the bud—the most powerful thought control measure in history. In the aftermath of the Great Collapse, when many social institutions and government organizations had failed to recover their functions, the 610 Office was one of the first elite forces to be mobilized. One of their purposes was to ensure rationality—to ensure that the overall rationality of human society was not destroyed. They used every feasible means, practically shouting in people's ears day and night:

Do not worship or submit to them!

They are not gods!
They are not gods!
"Maomao?"

A soft call startled Wei Mao from his daze.

Wei Mao sat in his office—not his office, but the Chengdu Science City Automation Research Institute—where the sun shone brightly outside the window.

Shang Lu was very familiar with this office. Two years ago, he submitted his application form here before heading to the Chongqing 151 Nanshan Support Base to take up his post. Sitting opposite Wei Mao was Old Man Wang, Ji Laotou's good friend of many years, Shang Lu's undergraduate and graduate advisor, a triple academician of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, the Chinese Academy of Engineering, and the International Astronautical Federation, and an authority on the design and engineering theory of giant anti-descent equipment.

His name is Wang Daming. He is not old, but he is of a very high seniority and has very little hair. The leaders of the Science City and the institute respectfully call him Old Wang, and his friends and students call him Old Baldy Wang.

"What are you thinking about so intently?" Old Wang poured hot water from the kettle to make tea for Wei Mao. "Thinking about your mother?"

“Luo Luo Luo Luo Luo…”

Luojia Mountain.

Who wouldn't miss Luojia Mountain?
Luojia Mountain has always been a sanctuary in Wei Mao's heart. He is a man who lives in memories, and he spent the most important time of his life there. During those turbulent years of war, Luojia Mountain was a small oasis, located on the campus of Wuhan University, adjacent to East Lake. In 2009, Shang Jun first led his team to Luojia Mountain. The best spot on the mountain was Luojia Mountain Villa, a magnificent hotel halfway up, but it was unfortunately occupied by the Nanjing Military Region, which had gotten there first. The second best place on the mountain was "Eighteen Buildings," eighteen professors' residences built during the Republic of China era. These were all detached villas designed by Germans and are protected cultural relics. Before the collapse, they were the location of Wuhan University's internal research institutions. After the collapse, they were requisitioned by various research institutes from the eastern coastal areas that had retreated inland. Shang Jun, young and with a group of children, was destitute and unable to find a good place, so he could only live in a makeshift house on the mountain.

“Luojia Mountain, Wuhan University, nestled against the mountain and by the water… what a wonderful place.” Old Wang pushed the teacup to Wei Mao, sat down, leaned back in his chair, and said leisurely, “It’s just that it’s a bit too hot in the summer. I still remember you wearing a tattered vest and shorts, squatting on the curb of the Huanshan North Road on Luojia Mountain, holding a watermelon in your hands.”

Old Baldy Wang recalled the picture of the handsome man eating melon.

Wei Mao silently lowered his head and drank his tea. During a break from his inspection, he was invited by Old Baldy Wang to sit at the Institute of Automation. It was obvious that the other party's purpose was not purely to reminisce.

"Mao Mao, when was the last time I saw you?"

Wei Mao tried hard to recall, but Old Baldy Wang patted his head as if he remembered, and continued on his own: "It was the day before you were assigned to 151 after your rotation ended. It was January 7th at the beginning of this year. It was also a sunny day like today, but a bit cold. I made you a pot of tea."

Wei Mao nodded.

"I heard that you have a good relationship with Shanglu in 151. I want to thank you for taking care of Shanglu."

He smiled and extended his hand.

Wei Mao hesitated for a moment.

He realized that today's conversation was not ideological and political education.

"There are no surveillance cameras or recordings in my office, so don't worry." Old Baldy Wang smiled. "I hesitated for a moment about whether it was appropriate to ask you to come and talk at this critical juncture. Is Da Yi about to be dispatched? Look outside, the sun is shining brightly, and you can't tell at all that the world is on the verge of collapse."

Wei Mao shook hands with him: "Three three three three... three weeks."

"Three weeks? Less than a month until the capping?" Old Baldy Wang exclaimed in surprise. "That's really efficient. Old Ji is quite skilled at this."

"Ji Ji Ji... President Ji is always very efficient and takes good care of me."

“He’s always been an impatient person. Back when Shang Yang was still alive, Lao Ji was more anxious and worried than anyone else. I remember him tossing and turning, unable to eat or drink, and coming to me to cry. He said, ‘How many more years do we have? How can we possibly make it? We’re doomed, we’re all doomed.’” Old Baldy Wang said. “Later, Factory 314 was established, and the Giant Machinery Red Tide was also built.”

“You were the group leader back then.” “The nominal group leader, but the actual leader was the deputy group leader. She was just a young girl back then, but she was more capable than anyone else.” Old Baldy Wang said, “To be honest, we still haven’t fully digested the legacy she left behind.”

“Me, me, me, me—I am also her legacy.”

“We are,” said Old Baldy Wang. “Old Ji and I are quite old, and most of our skills were taught by Shang Yang. Unfortunately, we are still too dull-witted and can only do engineering, not theory.”

"The...the highest principle?"

“The Lobachevsky-Hilbert-Riemann-Shang Jun Unified Program, yes, also called the Supreme Program,” said Old Baldy Wang. “All our research on angels is governed by this unparalleled program.”

In terms of theoretical learning, the proficiency of the giant machine pilots is almost superior to that of everyone else. This is the special characteristic of the giant machine that distinguishes it from all previous human weapons. As an unparalleled computing tool and combat machine, those who can master it must be theoretical experts who are well-versed in this field.

"Without boasting, I can say that Lao Ji and I also contributed to the establishment of the Supreme Program," Wang Laotu said with a smile. "Do you remember there was an air-raid shelter on Luojia Mountain? It used to be the geophysics laboratory of Wuhan University. Later, I used all my persuasive skills to get it used as the base of Group 314. As for Lao Ji... his biggest contribution was running around all over the city to buy her paper and pens. There was a time when supplies were so scarce that we couldn't even find an eraser."

Wei Mao remembers that air-raid shelter, which was in Meiyuan on Luojia Mountain. Shang Jun would often carry an empty aluminum lunchbox to the Meiyuan canteen next door to get food, and then slowly stroll back along Meiyuan Second Road with a full aluminum lunchbox. Little Wei Mao would sit on the curb and watch her go and welcome her back. In the evening breeze under the setting sun, Shang Jun's clothes would flutter, and she would always raise the plastic bag in her hand and twirl her wrist: Guess what we're eating today?
The wall clock struck a sharp "ding!", indicating noon.

"Going to the Central Military Commission again this afternoon?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes... Yes, there are also some psychological and mental tests today, and eye movement and sleep tests tonight." Wei Mao nodded. "The original plan was seven days, 279 items."

"Are you under pressure?"

Wei Mao shook his head: "We're all very familiar with each other, it's just a formality."

During his physical examination, Wei Mao stood naked in the medical room, showing no shame in front of everyone. If the giant machine pilots were tools to human society, then the ones who treated them as tools the most were themselves. Wei Mao often examined himself with indifferent and cold eyes, as if his soul and body had their own separate places. Perhaps giant machine pilots always had a cold nature; Shen Jiang treated others, while Wei Mao treated himself.

"Getting back to the point, Mao Mao, I've invited you here again for the same reason," said Old Baldy Wang. "Please don't refuse."

"business--"

“That’s right, we hope you can take care of Shang Lu as much as possible during the 151 period.”

Wei Mao raised his eyes but remained silent. The last time he came here, Old Baldy Wang made the same request, and he agreed.

"I...I...I...I...Can I ask a question?"

"please say."

“You…you…you…you just said ‘we,’ who are you referring to? The Central Military Commission? Factory 314? Science City? Or Base 151?” Wei Mao asked. “Who wants me to provide attention and protection for Shanglu?”

"Forgive me for not being able to answer your question, Mao Mao. You are a mecha pilot, and you have almost supreme power in the current human society. Many people hope that you can protect Shang Lu. I can't give you a list, but I can tell you who most wants you to protect Shang Lu—your mother."

Wei Mao silently lowered his head and sipped his tea. After a long while, he finally asked:

"Is it because she's the older sister?"

“It’s because Pokeweed is very important, even though he may not realize how important he is,” Old Baldy Wang replied. “We are about to reach a critical moment, which is the great goal and cause that your mother has painstakingly pursued and fought for her whole life. To achieve this goal, Pokeweed is an indispensable part.”

"Target?"

"To create a future that may be hopeful."

"perhaps?"

“A one percent chance is called ‘maybe there is hope.’” Old Baldy Wang leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. “This is all I can say to you: create a future where there is still a one percent chance.”

Wei Mao finished his tea and got up to leave.

Before leaving, Old Baldy Wang called him back:

"Don't tell anyone about today's conversation. Also, Mao Mao... no matter what Shang Lu has said to you, you must believe that your mother loves you deeply."