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

Every time he turned a page of the e-book, Song Xingye would habitually look up at the huge "metal sailboats" outside the window. The Red Dragon camera crew could shoot automatically, and he only needed to glance at them occasionally.

As the space station orbits smoothly along Earth, the angle and intensity of sunlight constantly change, making the day-night cycle from a space perspective particularly spectacular. Although this cycle of light and shadow will occur every two hours, future viewers will never tire of it.

He can also add various visual effects in post-production, using dazzling visuals to divert the audience's attention, so that they don't realize that nothing exciting actually happened during the test.

Occasionally, he would manipulate the camera to sweep across the Earth's surface below, capturing the delicate rainbow at the boundary between dawn and dusk, or gazing at the starry lights of the vast urban clusters on the night side of the planet.

About two and a half hours into the test, Sasha and Han Jing each exited the cabin wearing their respective extravehicular maneuvers. Sasha's device was connected to Han Jing's device via a cable for control.

Song Xingye spent an hour filming close-up narration of Sasha inside the motorized device, with the giant sail behind him as a backdrop. Han Jing drove the device, hovering behind Song Xingye, deliberately avoiding the camera lens.

After capturing a satisfactory shot, Han Jing and Sasha moved to the far end of the testing area, allowing Song Xingye to capture them in the shot with the high-speed flowing metal strip as the foreground and the azure Earth as the background.

At this point, the reactor's output power had climbed to 20%, the heat exchanger was dissipating 3.5 gigawatts of waste heat with astonishing efficiency, and hundreds of metal strips were hurtling at an extreme speed of 70 meters per second.

Suddenly, out of the corner of Song Xingye's eye, he noticed a strange glimmer of light on one of the metal sails, a sight that was definitely not normal for normal operation.

He slammed the communicator on: "I see something unusual on the sail... Hey! Can you hear me? Back off, back off immediately, get out of there, evacuate right now!"

He immediately aimed the No. 1 camera, equipped with the longest focal length, at the area where the accident occurred. He saw large areas of dazzling light spots appear on the metal surface, followed by blinding light patterns that shimmered like water ripples and spread rapidly.

He quickly switched to camera number two for wide-angle tracking, capturing the deadly light patterns while deliberately keeping Sasha's maneuvering device within the frame. Then, he activated target lock mode, keeping camera number two firmly on Sasha's device.

As soon as she moves, the camera will automatically track and focus, depending on the direction of their movement and the extreme stability of the Red Dragon camera's pan-tilt head.

At this moment, Han Jing was rapidly retreating the device, but the deathly light patterns and flashes had already spread out of control on the four giant sails.

One second later, the giant sail exploded.

At least in Song Xingye's lens, the scene was just that horrific.

The 352 silver metal strips that make up the sail instantly broke free from their original straight electromagnetic constraint trajectory, which was like an arrow. They tumbled violently like wild horses, and those silver strips, as thin as cicada wings, were torn apart in the vacuum, shooting wildly in all directions like frenzied Christmas ribbons.

Having survived countless explosions and narrowly escaped death in the war-torn region where three borders meet, he knows an ironclad rule: if the shockwave from an explosion doesn't kill you on the spot, you're still very likely to be killed by flying debris, such as pieces of brick flying everywhere.

His battlefield instincts trained him to look up and observe immediately after an explosion. The flying bricks were like softballs being hit high into the outfield; as long as he could accurately pinpoint their trajectory, he could easily dodge them.

In life-or-death situations, his brain automatically operates at high speed, precisely calculating the parabolic trajectory and motion of each piece of deadly rubble.

The silvery filamentous cloud continued to expand. Song Xingye keenly noticed that a gap had appeared in the flying debris spheres. Relying on his intuition from his explosive training, he instantly judged that the trajectory of these debris would perfectly avoid that spot.

He decisively maneuvered the work pod into the gap and deliberately adjusted its posture to be opposite Sasha and Han Jing's work pods, so as to ensure that the second camera could always lock onto them.

He then set up the No. 1 camera, equipped with a lens worth 500,000 yuan, on the edge of the extruder's folds, locked continuous focus, and simultaneously activated both full-color and thermal imaging modes, maximizing the frame rate.

Another female voice came through the communication channel: "This is Mi Nan. Song Xingye, we are monitoring your footage simultaneously. We need a complete scan of the extruder connecting rod, both full-color and thermal imaging at the highest resolution."

To achieve the highest resolution in both full-color and thermal imaging modes, the focal length must be increased slightly.

Although his main attention was focused on the technical footage needed to film the first unit, the second unit remained locked on Sasha, capturing her figure through the ever-expanding silver foil sphere.

Reason told him that these flying silver foils were a harbinger of disaster, but the scene before him was breathtakingly beautiful. The twisted and tangled metal wires reflected dazzling light in the sunlight, and a sapphire-like Earth floated in the deep space. Sasha's work pod was right in the center of this picture.

After the intense shock came deep worry; clearly, the test had gone horribly wrong and ended in complete failure.

Could this jeopardize the mission or even cause casualties? He quickly switched communication channels and accessed the engineering line recorded by the Red Team to understand the current situation by listening to the real-time reports from Mi Nan and others.

Mi Nan was furious on the channel, but the good news was that the space station and the mission itself had not suffered irreversible damage, and there were no casualties. From what he observed, the metal belt guidance system had malfunctioned.

As the conveyor speed of the metal belt increased, the system gradually became unstable. According to discussions on the audio channel, engineers are currently unable to pinpoint the source of the fault: whether it was physical vibration of the extruder, a poor feedback loop between the metal belt, sensors, and control magnets, or a crash of the computer control system itself.

Regardless of the reason, the high-speed metal belts initially only trembled slightly, but the amplitude gradually increased until the entire control system could not bear the burden and collapsed. The metal belts eventually went out of control and scattered in all directions.

He maneuvered the work cabin to the end of the extruder connecting rod, switched to the engineering channel, and asked, "Should we take another picture of the connecting rod end?"

Mi Nan replied almost instantly: "If conditions permit, please provide me with a thermal image of the connecting rod just as it begins to destabilize. Keep the camera stationary and record for at least two minutes."

"I'll get on it right away," Song Xingye replied.

Sasha's voice chimed in at the opportune moment: "I don't want to seem like a spoilsport."

"You've never been lenient with yourself when you've spoiled the mood before," Song Xingye teased.

"I rolled my eyes inwardly," she retorted. "Tell me honestly, when that thing exploded, did you capture any footage of our work pod floating in the background? Even just a few seconds would do."

"Unit 2 has been locked onto you the entire time and hasn't moved away yet. The world described by the space pioneer is all in 'Rebirth in 2011, I am the Chief Designer of Spacecraft.' The current interference debris is dissipating. If you follow the planned trajectory, I can record your entire entry process with a follow-cam, with enough clarity to capture your face under your helmet. Just avoid a few pieces of metal debris, and the resulting footage will be absolutely epic."

Sasha then asked her teammate, "Han Jing, is this a feasible move?"

"It's feasible, but I still think he's crazy," Han Jing muttered.

Song Xingye secretly agreed in his heart, "I'm probably really crazy." This utterly out-of-control chaos was a concrete manifestation of chaos theory, but God knows, this damn scene was just too exciting!

……

On the other side, Mi Nan survived the entire night on black coffee, junk food, and stimulants. If the radiator malfunction that the damned cameraman filmed as a disaster movie is ultimately proven to be an irreparable fatal flaw in her design... it's obvious who will become the laughing stock of the industry for the next century.

While the video of the heat exchanger extruder connecting rod provided direction for troubleshooting, it failed to reveal crucial details. This video was of great engineering value, but she never expected that the cameraman, while recording technical data, would also be shooting from a news perspective.

Whenever Mi Nan closes her eyes, a close-up of the red-haired beauty on the holographic screen appears in her mind. She sits upright in the work cabin, her eyes reflecting the golden halo of the explosion, yet her expression is unusually calm: "We have encountered a major accident. The Mars spacecraft's critical heat exchanger is undergoing its first test run..."

Immediately afterwards, the video switched to show the scene of the ultra-high temperature metal belt violently exploding in the depths of space in great detail.

The log data on the work screen scrolled by like a waterfall. She rubbed her sore eyes hard. Now was not the time to doze off. She had already ruled out the control sensors and magnets as suspects.

The data showed that the hardware performance was fully up to standard; what was lacking was precise control logic. Although the physical oscillations of the heat exchanger nozzles could still be a contributing factor, she had no doubt about the computing power of the supercomputer array's foundation.

The real reason is that when the transmission speed of the metal strip soars, the system is instantly swallowed up by the massive data deluge, and the existing modeling accuracy is simply unable to support it.

The solution is simple: increase the computing power of the supercomputer. This can be easily achieved once the budget is approved, and the underlying control code can be rewritten to be more sophisticated.

These optimizations obviously can't be achieved overnight, but she's decided to give those programmers a good dressing down at the code development meeting later today.

She pulled up the nozzle's operating logs. She knew that even if the logs themselves didn't reveal any hardware malfunctions, the cleaner and more efficient the underlying operating logic, the less redundant calculations the supercomputer would have when controlling the metal strip.

Just as she was preparing to extract a valid signal from the massive amount of data noise, a piercing high-priority beep suddenly rang out, forcibly breaking through her set do-not-disturb mode.

"Who is it? Just say what you want to say. I'm busy and in a bad mood, so don't waste my time."

"Mi Nan, this is Sun Liancheng. I feel even worse than you. Yesterday's farce was absolutely awful. You need..."

Mi Nan interrupted him bluntly: "That wasn't a crushing defeat, it was an experiment, a test! This was the first time we ran a system at full load on an unverified system. The system did crash, but the data we obtained will naturally tell us why."

"Mi Nan, dare to interrupt me again! Unless you want to quit."

Mi Nan had long heard of Sun Liancheng's violent temper, but today she experienced it firsthand. This blatant threat sent chills down her spine. Reason told her that the wisest thing to do at this moment was to apologize with a smile and compromise.

"Then you're welcome to try," she retorted coldly. "Good luck finding someone to replace me. Changing leadership at this critical juncture will only delay your launch by a full year."

On the other end of the screen, Sun Liancheng's face instantly turned bright red.

"There's one more thing," Mi Nan continued, "You're not my direct supervisor, and you want to fire me? Contact my manager. Right now, you're seriously taking up my work time. Stop putting pressure on me and let me focus on my work."

With a snap, she unilaterally cut off the communication. "This is definitely not the wisest decision I've ever made in my career," she thought dejectedly. "Should I start packing now, or keep obsessing over this code until security kicks me out? Whatever. I need a breather."

Mi Nan pushed back her office chair and strode toward the cafeteria. As she stepped out of the cabin, she instinctively wanted to slam the door shut to vent her frustration, but the pneumatic door only made a soft hydraulic hiss before sliding smoothly shut.

She stomped her foot in exasperation: "This wretched place can't even slam a door properly!"

A thousand kilometers away, Sun Liancheng stared at his scientific advisor in disbelief. "That brat dared to hang up on me. Find someone to replace her immediately and get the hell out of here."

The science advisor glanced at his secretary out of the corner of his eye; the secretary raised an eyebrow slightly. Everyone else in the room maintained a deliberate calm.

The scientific advisor suppressed a smile and cleared his throat: "Director Sun, if I may be frank, uh, no."

"Even you're going to rebel against me? You're my advisor!"

"It is precisely because I am an advisor that I offer professional advice. First of all, she is right; changing commanders at the last minute will only waste a lot of time. If you change commanders now, the people of Country A will probably land on Mars before us."

"Am I just supposed to put up with this kind of humiliation?"

Sun Liancheng's forehead veins bulged, almost as if steam was about to spew from them, but gradually, his emotions calmed down, and he finally managed a bitter smile: "Fine."

At this moment, the secretary raised her finger.

"What's wrong?" Sun Liancheng asked.

The secretary carefully chose his words, saying, "I believe we cannot rule out the possibility of deliberate sabotage."

Do you have any evidence?

The secretary shook his head: "There is no solid evidence, just a gut feeling. There are too many loopholes in this system that could be exploited by saboteurs, and the links involved are too complicated."

God is my witness, our countless past experiences have shown that it is simply impossible to conduct a thorough background check on everyone. Moreover, the hardware, software, operating procedures and protocols are all prototypes that are being tested and debugged on-site.

There are countless potential pitfalls, and any malicious code modification could be implanted without anyone noticing.

Sun Liancheng sighed deeply: "My God, the radiator issue is already a headache enough, but if this is true, it would be fatal. I don't even want to think about what we should do."

"Although we can never get 100% of the truth," the secretary added, "from a security standpoint, I feel more at ease keeping our team, which we know well, rather than bringing in new people with unknown backgrounds. Let's try to keep the staff stable, like Minan."