Reborn in 2011, I am the chief designer of aerospace.

Viking III pierced through the steam clouds like a sword, its exhaust plume shooting out a blinding flash of light more dazzling than the planet's dawn, illuminating the icy Martian landscape in a fiery red. It accelerated its ascent until, as the booster stage separated, it had almost become a black dot in the sky. Then, the reentry capsule, now just a faint glimmer of light, emerged and sped into the vast, deep expanse of space, like a shooting star traveling in reverse, embarking on its long journey home.

Far below, a tiny figure sat silently on an ice ridge. Even though the last glimmer of light had long since vanished into the depths of the starry sky, she still gazed up at that void for a long time.

After a long silence, she finally turned around and walked towards the living quarters. There was no point in continuing to watch—they still had nine months to drift in the cold space before reaching their destination, and during that time, on this planet that belonged only to her, she still had a lot of life to live.

Mira is finally home.

……

Five years later.

From ten kilometers away, the Sky Survey Observatory resembles a giant beer can, with the sunlit side gleaming with dazzling yellow and white sunlight, while the shaded side is like a mirror, reflecting the ever-changing shape of the Earth thousands of feet below, with pale blue clouds and pearl-like cloud patterns slowly flowing in the mirror.

This "giant tank" is not alone; a single-person work pod is approaching it. The pod is only big enough for one person and its surface is covered with insect-like robotic arms, interfaces, portholes, and cameras. The bottom is surrounded by a ring of storage cabinets and propulsion tanks.

If sound could travel in space, and a being with ears happened to pass by, perhaps a faint song could be heard echoing between the snow-white walls:

"Oh, my all-terrain vehicle is speeding along the track, and those troublesome little guys look to be in excellent condition..."

The repairman is providing "on-site service".

The Sky Survey Observatory is equipped with four telescopes: Big Eye, Medium Eye, Small Eye, and a telescope informally nicknamed "Eye of the Sky." With the assistance of particle and radiation detectors, they gaze into deep space day after day, searching for the wonders of the universe.

All the remote-controlled telescopes, radio antennas, particle sensors, as well as all the digital cameras, computers, storage systems, fuel tanks, and solar panels on SSO are typically operated remotely by astronomers who are comfortably sitting in temperature-controlled offices on the ground.

Until this sophisticated observation station malfunctions, someone will have to personally go up there with the legendary "screwdriver".

Ground control personnel called out, "Can you see this?"

Han Jing muttered into the microphone, "I saw it, God, this piece of junk must have been hit solidly by a meteorite."

"What? Where did you hit? Is it serious?"

"Just kidding."

"Listen, Han Jing, I have a button here. Press it and it will cut off your oxygen supply."

"I had no idea you had this kind of authority." Han Jing chuckled. "Fine, I'm not going to argue with you astronomers anymore. Countdown to cut off telemetry communication, three, two, one..."

……

Han Jing is essentially a "space handyman," although his official title is "observation station operations manager," whose main responsibility is to ensure the observatory operates normally.

For the past few hours, he had done almost nothing, passing the time by drinking coffee and flipping through the latest issue of a magazine, while waiting for the work capsule to approach the SSO.

Unless some catastrophic accident occurs, his flight trajectory has already been locked by the laws of physics and the thrust of the low-speed orbiter at the observation station. The computer shows that his docking trajectory is perfect.

He took another sip of coffee, his fingers unconsciously tapping out counterpoint rhythms on the control panel, following the melody of the band he had recently become obsessed with.

Han Jing is not a scientist. His job involves working in the gaps between mechanics and electronics. Occasionally he does some soldering or repairs pipes, but most of the time he is using glue to stick things together, all kinds of strong glue.

Although he has a degree in mechanical and electrical engineering, he often feels that he should have gotten a diploma in "adhesives". With his solid engineering background and his instinctive love for mechanics, he learns things very quickly, but he has no interest in inventing new machines from scratch.

In his spare time, he enjoys playing electric guitars, video games, and modifying propeller planes and wooden speedboats. Although he is also fascinated by computers, he prefers tangible hardware to virtual code.

He enjoys doing anything that involves disassembling and assembling, mending and repairing, refurbishing, or simply adjusting things a few times.

But ultimately, his happiest moments are spent in the sky. In space, he is an all-around jack-of-all-trades and the world's highest-paid handyman.

The voice from the ground came through the communication channel again: "How's the situation?"

"I can't see anything wrong," Han Jing replied. "To be precise, everything is normal."

"Very good, are you ready to switch to manual operation?"

If it can be done manually, then of course it's manual; it's time to show off our real skills.

He flipped the switch on the control stick, activating the thrusters. The laser radar showed that the remaining relative speed for docking was less than five meters per second, a near-perfect cut.

He then activated the attitude control thrusters in the work cabin. Through hundreds of simulations and real flights, his movements had become muscle memory, as natural as riding a bicycle.

His gaze swept rapidly across the dial, his fingers deftly releasing streams of propulsion air. He had once boasted to his ex-wife that this method was much safer than driving to work.

His ex-wife retorted, "What if there's an accident? I mean, if something happens on Earth, the worst that can happen is you drive into a ditch on your way to work, but what if something happens in space?"

He replied that he would then win a free ticket to the cosmos, and his tour would not stop even if the sun went out billions of years from now.

She didn't laugh, not then, and never afterward.

But Han Jing was serious. As the psychological evaluation report stated, "loneliness and isolation" had never been a problem for him.

"Radar indicates you are in position," the ground crew reported.

"Getting closer, just a little closer."

……

The work capsule adjusted its attitude to remain parallel to the SSO. In space, there is no distinction between "up" and "down," but in Han Jing's eyes, at least the lettering printed on the outer shell of the container was now upright.

During the observatory's service, only a handful of visitors came to the site and disassembled the outer shell, totaling no more than thirty extravehicular activity missions.

Of these thirty missions, Han Jing alone took on eighteen of them. Most of the instruments and detection equipment were modularly designed and launched into space as independent units, ready to be used immediately upon request.

This isn't a joke, it's a recommendation for the treasure book "Reborn in 2011, I am the Chief Designer of Aerospace":

However, some manual assembly is still required. These precision instruments must be properly installed inside the tank, undergo regular maintenance, and be iterated and upgraded as more advanced cameras, computers, and storage devices become available.

During this mission, "Eye in the Sky" not only had to undergo a routine "vision check," but also had to replace its camera with a new one because it was suffering from "twitching syndrome." The unexplained micro-vibrations not only interfered with the observations but also caused considerable anxiety.

The source of the earthquake could be a malfunction in a servo motor inside the camera casing, or it could be caused by frequent temperature changes leading to a loose wire. Whatever the cause, it must be identified and stopped immediately.

The cost of this repair could be negligible or as high as several million dollars. With project budgets being cut year after year, the entire ground team is secretly praying that "nothing serious will go wrong."

Han Jing's right hand swept across the sensor panel, bringing up the tool menu and auxiliary functions. He lightly tapped the command with his index finger, and power flowed into the servo motor of the robotic arm, activating the haptic feedback glove.

With a flick of the thumb, dozens of miniature directional spotlights on the outer wall of the work cabin instantly illuminated, piercing the deep darkness between the cabin and the observation platform. In space, the importance of light sources is almost equal to that of oxygen.

His right pinky finger deftly adjusted the angle of the light, precisely focusing it on the work area. The years he "wasted" on game controllers gave him agile reflexes and skillful technique comparable to a jazz saxophonist.

As his right hand flew across the panel like playing a musical instrument, his left hand firmly gripped the control stick, propelling the work capsule slowly closer. He first circled the tank once to record the video anchor point, and then steadily hovered the work capsule on the side of the observatory.

Slow down, even slower, keep the relative speed at one millimeter per second. This is the essence of space docking. It's not that we're afraid of damaging the observatory. SSO's own navigation computer can handle minor collisions. It can be recalibrated simply by activating the thrusters and attitude gyroscopes.

But if perfection can be achieved, why waste the observatory's precious fuel by rushing the docking?

With a very slight "click" vibration, the mechanical gripper on the work cabin firmly gripped the docking socket on the surface of the tank. This socket was right next to the instrument hatch. After the hard connection was completed, Han Jing conducted a final confirmation test on the safety monitoring system.

Every internal and external data from every routine check is meticulously recorded, because in space, any overlooked detail can be fatal, and rigor can not only save the mission but also save lives.

"We've reviewed the docking process," a voice came from the ground control center. "Well done, there was almost no unnecessary shaking."

"That's why you spent so much money hiring professionals," Han Jing joked. "Have you seen the video of the flight path?"

"We're checking it now, comparing it with the previous scan results. No abnormalities have been found so far." After a brief silence, the ground team confirmed, "Scan complete, everything external is normal."

"Received. Prepare to cut off the power."

……

The power supply to SSO was cut off purely for safety reasons. Of course, it wasn't to protect Han Jing, who was comfortably staying in the insulated work cabin, but rather to protect "Eye in the Sky".

Even the slightest accidental short circuit or voltage fluctuation during maintenance could trigger the "million-dollar overhaul" that budget officers dread the most.

A moment later, Lin Qin, the ground equipment expert, switched on. Although the two had never met before, they had worked together for many years. Speaking with a strong southern accent, she said, "Han Jing, the power has been cut off. Should we check that strange malfunction first?"

"Hey, Lin Qin. That's right, I'm going to throw out some 'ice balls' now."

Han Jing manipulated the highly flexible mechanical arm to precisely attach several miniature seismographs, each about the size of an ice hockey puck, to the outside of the tank and the outer shell of the "Eye in the Sky".

The bottom of these "ice balls" is coated with an electrically controlled protein adhesive, a synthetic material inspired by barnacle secretions. When an electric current is applied, it can adhere to almost any surface, and once the power is turned off, the adhesiveness immediately disappears.

People jokingly call these little gadgets "sticky notes" because they pop up as small yellow squares on Han Jing's monitoring screen, which is quite fitting.

"Alright, all deployment complete," Han Jing called out. "Let's ring the bell and see how it sounds."

"Are you ready?" Lin Qin asked. "Three, two, one, vibration."

The two thrusters on opposite sides of the observatory ignited simultaneously. Although it lasted only a very short tenth of a second, the interval was so short that it was indistinguishable to the naked eye, but it was enough to cause the huge tank to vibrate violently.

"The vibration cycle is complete. Do you have the data yet?"

Han Jing nodded: "I've got it, I've got it, I can see it very clearly."

……

Han Jing stared intently at the readings on the monitor, while the ground team watched the same scene. The signals captured by the miniature microphone kept fluctuating, indicating the direction of the shockwave transmission.

The epicenter was located near the surface of the superstructure. Although the location was not deep, it was still outside the optimal detection range of the current seismograph array.

"I need to rearrange a few 'ice hockey pucks'," Han Jing said. "Wait a moment."

He manipulated the robotic arm to move the positions of several sensors and called Lin Qin again: "Please give it another vibration."

"Three, two, one, vibration."

Han Jing stared intently at the screen: "The signal source is nearby, probably sandwiched between two layers of bulkhead. I'm fine-tuning the position of 'Ice Ball' and also extending the endoscope over to take a look."

"Could it be that the insulation foam has come loose?" Lin Qin guessed hopefully.

"It's possible, I'm moving the 'ice hockey' there..."

After another vibration test, the system finally pinpointed the exact location of the earthquake source with an error of less than half a centimeter. Han Jing then manipulated the macro probe to get close to the surface of the observatory.

"The outer shell is intact and there is no physical damage," he reported to his supervisor.

"Good news." The ground breathed a sigh of relief.

Damage caused by micrometeorite impacts is much more difficult to repair. Although they have never encountered a meteorite that could penetrate both outer shells, anything is possible in the vastness of space.

"I'm going to make a small hole," Han Jing said.

The entire investigation and repair process took an hour. Han Jing carefully drilled a three-millimeter hole in the outer shell of the meteorite and inserted a fiber optic endoscope between the bulkheads.

As expected, the insulating and shock-absorbing foam between the inner and outer layers of the "Eye in the Sky" structure partially detached.

This could be a hidden flaw that was present during the manufacturing process, or a hazard left over from the violent shocks during launch. After experiencing countless harsh hot and cold cycles in space, the material eventually aged and loosened.