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

The next chapter is even more exciting: Chapter 164, a dilemma. We look forward to your visit.

Because everything was perfect, not even a single flaw could be found in the smart door.

The door will automatically unlock and open as soon as it senses the implant in her body, and then close silently after she enters the room.

She only needs to casually recite a shopping list, covering everything from snacks and fresh produce to seasonal clothing, and the system will automatically arrange for delivery to her door, without her having to worry about logistics at all.

This is like having a perfect, invisible butler. You don't need to give him red envelopes or tips during holidays, and you don't even need to remember his name.

Clearly, the authorities did assign her a real-life cleaner, even though she had never even seen him.

The only evidence she could confirm this person's existence was that every time she came home from get off work, her clothes were always neatly ironed, and the whole room was always spotless.

Even if she deliberately picked a crumb from the pastries that were always on the bar and threw it on the table, the crumb would definitely disappear into thin air when she came back next time.

However, neither the all-powerful smart door nor the all-powerful government can give her what she urgently needs right now: time.

Funding was never an issue. She had just complained to her scientific advisor about needing a better computing power allocation, and six hours later, she had secured the industry's top supercomputing resources.

Even so, the scientific advisors couldn't magically add three extra hours to the day, much less postpone the launch deadline that felt like a death knell.

The relative positions of the planets have tightly controlled the launch window. The perfect window with the closest distance and shortest travel distance is either November of this year, which is only eight months from now, or December of next year.

Sun Liancheng initially had the wild idea of ​​launching this year, but all the engineers involved in the project poured cold water on his idea, saying that it was pure wishful thinking.

In fact, even striving for a launch 21 months from now would be ridiculously difficult.

What truly kept her up at night, and even drove her to almost obsessively calculate her points, was the lingering doubt in her mind: was twenty-one months really enough?

Under the almost coercive and high-pressure orders of Director Sun, the engineers reluctantly came up with a plan that seemed insane at first glance: to forcibly remove two core modules from the existing space station, temporarily assemble a central hub at the stern equipped with a nuclear reactor and a heavy ion thruster, and then fully load it with thousands of tons of water resources for electrolysis to extract oxygen and hydrogen. Thus, a strange scientific ship cobbled together from scratch was about to embark on a doomed journey to Mars.

The most critical issue is that the higher-ups demanded that the entire stitching system be completed in less than two years, and that the long journey to Mars be forcibly compressed to less than five months. This is not just "somewhat" crazy, it's downright insane.

It's not that this plan violates the laws of physics, but the construction period has been compressed to an insane level, and the peak energy consumption is outrageously high. If they had said "three years to build the ship and two years to reach Mars," she could have easily completed the task while sipping coffee.

That's how she protested against those people.

In response, the other party directly revealed to her top-secret intelligence about Country A's Mars exploration mission, from Country A's terrifying foundation in the field of large-scale orbital spacecraft construction, to the time point that the intelligence department calculated for Country A to detect the "Mars anomaly", and then to the terrifying speed at which they would seize the target once Country A discovered the clues.

According to the current plan, the team is somewhat confident that they can complete the project within two years and intercept the bid from Country A. But what if it takes five years? Then they might as well give up and go to sleep; by then, it will be too late.

The situation is a predicament where we are caught between a rock and a hard place.

The terrifying amount of electricity required by this system is simply unreasonable. It's not that it's technically impossible, but rather that it's extremely illogical. It's equivalent to the astonishing power consumption of an entire megacity.

The reactor itself is actually the easiest part to solve. As early as the 20th century, humans designed a miniature reactor core that could stably output a huge amount of heat in a space smaller than her kitchen.

Mi Nan was also very clear about how to use the pressurized liquid sodium circulation system to efficiently remove heat from the reactor core. He had mastered this technology. The real challenge was how to miniaturize the matching turbines and generator sets to meet the stringent size requirements.

However, the scientific advisors have already handed this tough nut to a dedicated research and development team, and they confidently assure everyone that the technological barriers have been overcome.

But what happens after the turbine finishes running?

Size and weight are the biggest weaknesses, and it's impossible to expect to carry millions of tons of cooling water on a spacecraft for evaporative cooling.

Right now, she was holding a super tablet, repeatedly running simulation data of those increasingly outrageous experimental cooling systems. The more she ran, the more frantic she felt. The flight attendants in the cabin were announcing flight precautions, but she didn't hear a single word.

How do we deal with this damn heatwave? How can we dissipate it into a vacuum?

The hope of overcoming the problem seemed to be getting slimmer and slimmer. She was completely immersed in her own world and didn't even notice that someone was talking to her next to her until the flight attendant gently touched her arm.

"Ms. Minan, are you alright? We're about to take off. You don't look too well. Would you like your seat adjusted to the most comfortable position?"

"I'm fine. I was just thinking about some engineering problems."

"After two hours of intense mental work, it's difficult for a normal person to maintain peak performance. Perhaps you should try to relax your tense nerves and enjoy this launch journey. Once the spacecraft has smoothly entered orbit, you'll have plenty of time to continue working."

That's probably difficult. Watching the flight attendant turn and leave, Mi Nan sighed silently in her heart.

time.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded over the loudspeaker announcing two minutes until takeoff. The flight attendants took their seats at the front of the cabin and turned to check on the passengers behind them.

Sitting in a rear-facing seat and experiencing gravitational acceleration? Mi Nan thought to herself, that would definitely squeeze all the internal organs together. This flight attendant was much more hardcore than she looked.

Twenty-second countdown alarms rang throughout the cabin. Mi Nan took one last look around and saw that green lights were lit above every seat in the cabin. The intelligent monitoring system had completed a full cabin scan, confirming that there were no loose or unsecured objects and that every passenger had properly fastened their seatbelt.

After the final pre-flight self-check was completed, the main control computer released the safety lock and authorized ignition. As the pilot started the spacecraft's engine, the cabin was immediately filled with a deep duet of turbine blade whistling and tailpipe roaring.

The push-back feeling during takeoff is similar to that of a regular commercial airliner, except that the acceleration is more ferocious and the aircraft takes off earlier. Then, the nose suddenly rises high, and amidst the frantic roar of the hybrid engine, the aircraft soars straight into the sky at an extremely imposing 30-degree angle of attack.

Just one and a half minutes after takeoff, they tore through the troposphere ten kilometers away at supersonic speeds exceeding Mach 1. The acceleration suddenly surged, and the digital panel above the flight attendants' heads mercilessly displayed that a gravitational force of 2.2G was pressing Mi Nan firmly against the seat back.

A minute or so later, the aircraft, hurtling at three times the speed of sound, pierced through the 30-kilometer-high sky. The intelligent anti-G cushioning foam tightly wrapped around Mi Nan's head and neck locked her vision, making it difficult for her to turn her head. Fortunately, the view from the high-definition 3D holographic screen directly in front of her was much clearer than what she could see through the thick anti-radiation porthole on her left.

As the sky outside the window faded from deep indigo into deathly black without warning, Mi Nan vaguely caught a hazy and soft pinkish-blue outline of the Earth in that void.

In the blink of an eye, the speedometer had soared to five times the speed of sound, and the altitude had exceeded sixty kilometers. The aircraft's main booster hybrid engine completely gave up its futile attempt to extract oxygen from the edge of this near-vacuum atmosphere.

With the switching of internal valves, the engine instantly enters pure rocket propulsion mode, frantically consuming the liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen in the fuel tank, squeezing the thrust to its limit.

Five minutes after takeoff, they officially crossed the 100-kilometer Kármán line. In this absolute vacuum, the aircraft was hurtling forward at a terrifying initial speed of 3.5 kilometers per second. At this point, talking about the speed of sound was meaningless.

The first-stage booster's fuel was nearing its limit, leaving only enough for it to automatically return to base and land. The pilot decisively cut off the main fuel line, and with a muffled mechanical release sound, the massive booster section was jettisoned and tumbled toward the ground.

Meanwhile, the passenger spacecraft ignited its orbital engines and continued its ascent into the higher reaches of space. The oppressive feeling of overload suddenly eased, and Mi Nan secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, this torturous roller coaster was finally no longer as deadly as a heavy bench press. She no longer had to use her own weight to experience weightlifting training.

In the following fifteen minutes, the spacecraft's speed increased by four kilometers per second, and its altitude climbed by three hundred kilometers. The pilot shut off the engines, and they were now in stable low Earth orbit, where they could remain indefinitely even if they completely lost power.

Although the weak but constant resistance of the thermosphere will eventually drag the spaceship back to Earth... by then, they will probably be long gone.

Mi Nan looked out the window and saw a huge band of clouds outlined by the arc of the horizon, which was interwoven with pale blue and pure white. It was shining brightly against the hazy icy green of the Atlantic Ocean. She was really in space. The feeling was wonderful. And the best thing was that she didn't feel nauseous!

In zero gravity, her breakfast no longer felt heavy at the bottom of her stomach, but instead floated peacefully inside, proving that the space motion sickness patch was indeed effective.

The secretary had assured her that the patch would definitely work, but she had also heard that it wasn't foolproof. Fortunately, it seemed to at least effectively control the symptoms.

"This is really exciting," said the guy sitting across from her.

He was right, Mi Nan nodded, thinking to herself that this was truly an amazing thing.

The pilot announced over the loudspeaker that the spacecraft was in the final stage of docking with the orbital tug, and there might be some turbulence, but in reality, the impact would be negligible.

Although she hadn't witnessed it firsthand, Mi Nan knew that the design concept of this tugboat was exactly the same as that of a spacecraft's launch booster. Since the tugboat operates entirely in space, it doesn't need wings, a streamlined fuselage, or air intakes, nor does it need the robust structural frame of a launch vehicle.

However, like the carrier, it is also unmanned and remotely controlled.

At this moment, the spacecraft is being manually controlled by the crew. As it approaches the space station, control will be handed over to the space station's system. The pilot will guide the tugboat to the spacecraft, and when the two boats dock, the rigid carbon composite mesh basket on the tugboat will fit perfectly with the spacecraft.

The tugboat is equipped with two sets of engines and fuel tanks on both sides, and its size is much smaller than the carrier that originally sent them away from Earth.

Although there was no announcement from the pilot and the bright exhaust plumes from the roaring engines were not visible in space, Mi Nan could still feel that they were leaving near-Earth orbit. The thrust of the tugboat's engines brought an acceleration of a few tenths of a G, pressing her back into her seat, and the feeling of weightlessness instantly disappeared.

Although she wasn't uncomfortable, she actually started to miss the feeling of weightlessness. This longing actually made her feel relieved, since she would be spending most of her time in zero gravity during her upcoming trip to Mars, and the rest of the time in a low gravity cabin.

She had been secretly worried that she wouldn't be able to adapt to this experience.

Now, this is just another option she can cross out from the many worries in her mind.

The pilot entered the cabin and said to everyone, "Ladies and gentlemen, there's nothing to do now except sit comfortably and enjoy the journey to the space station. We are currently crossing Earth's terminator, and to allow you to better experience the night in space, I will dim the cabin lights. Please enjoy the beautiful scenery outside the window."

Mi Nan pressed her face against the window, gazing out at the horizon. A thin band of rainbow light enveloped the arc of the horizon, a spectacular sunset seen from space. As the spaceship swept into the night hemisphere, the setting sun vanished instantly, and countless stars leaped out of the night sky.

It was a clear and flawless sea of ​​stars, dotted with a pure blackness she had never seen on Earth. Even when hiking in the mountains, she had never seen such a deep night. The scene before her was breathtaking and so realistic that it was like a top-notch movie special effect.

Below her, flashes of lightning occasionally streaked through the clouds, and through gaps in the clouds, one could vaguely glimpse the dazzling lights of modern cities in North Africa and South Asia.

As dawn broke in orbit, Mi Nan was startled from her reverie. She glanced at the clock and realized she had wasted a whole hour just staring aimlessly at space. She sighed and pulled her thoughts back to work.

She urgently needs to come up with a plan, even if it's just a rough draft, so that she can present it when she arrives at the space station.

"Okay, deep breath," she murmured to herself, "What are the hard and fast conditions I have right now?"