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

Chapter 79 The Party Ends

Song Xingye once again caught the tail of the Forbes.

From early November to mid-December, through a needle-in-a-haystack, exhaustive search, he finally located the probe for the second time.

Upon hearing the news, Commander Zhang and Engineer Chen were overjoyed, feeling as if the clouds had finally parted and the sky had cleared, bringing a glimmer of hope.

This further narrows the error range of the prediction model and speeds up the search process.

According to Gauss's orbit determination method, if we can find the Forbes again, we can completely complete the analytical solution of the Lambert problem and the equation of the elliptical orbit, and calculate all the roots of this unknown orbit!

However, due to the Earth's oblateness, the Phobos probe's low orbital altitude and irregular shape, as well as the slight influence of atmospheric drag;

Therefore, even if the orbital elements are calculated, the validity period is only 24 hours at most!

Once this time limit is exceeded, the calculated trajectory will become inaccurate.

Song Xingye was not worried at all about whether the orbital elements would become invalid.

The question now is, when will we be able to track the Forbes for the third time?

The first two searches were already quite difficult, and ultimately it was all about luck.

As for when luck will strike a third time, that remains to be seen.

Regardless, both General Manager Zhang and Engineer Chen patted him on the shoulder and gave him a thumbs up.

These two discoveries at least demonstrate that Song Xingye's approach to finding the detector was entirely correct.

The two battle-hardened old men felt both ashamed and gratified.

It is shameful that the experimental team actually had to rely on a group of inexperienced young PhDs to find Firefly 1;

What's heartening is the presence of such a group of young people, which shows that Dongguo Aerospace is surpassing its predecessors and has successors!

The days passed by in anxiety and waiting.

The climate in Baikonur is becoming increasingly harsh.

The radio broadcast warned that a once-in-a-century cold wave was about to sweep through Baikonur, with temperatures expected to drop below minus thirty degrees Celsius.

Song Xingye, wrapped in a thick quilt in his dormitory, felt his scalp tingle when he heard the forecast.

Will the temperature drop further?

Are you trying to kill us?

Even the most cold-resistant Russians have started cursing the awful weather in Baikonur.

Song Xingye got up and stretched his legs, then poked the stove with tongs. A few wisps of fire rose from the red-hot charcoal, barely adding a bit of warmth.

Although the environment here is dilapidated, fortunately the Russians are not so stingy as to limit even the amount of charcoal.

He walked to the window again, touched the newspaper pasted in the cracks of the wall to make sure there was no draft, and looked out through the glass covered with frost flowers.

Two workstations were bustling with activity.

Both a Proton rocket and a Soyuz rocket have important launch missions scheduled for the end of the month.

To appease NASA, the Russians are sparing no effort in inspecting the Soyuz rocket to ensure it can launch on time at the end of the month.

Several space force soldiers, dressed in bulky military overcoats and black beanies, carried quilts up and down the service tower, carefully covering the parts of the rocket that needed insulation.

Song Xingye couldn't help but chuckle, thinking to himself that these Russians were quite resourceful, managing to come up with such a clumsy method.

Even if the idea is terrible, it works.

Time flies, and another week has passed in the blink of an eye.

The Soyuz rocket finally roared into the sky despite the freezing cold, carrying three astronauts from Baikonur to the International Space Station.

The Russians successfully completed a manned mission.

The next day happened to be the winter solstice.

The Russians, NASA, and the European Space Agency, along with the Eastern test team, held a get-together in a secluded large room at Baikonur.

Outside, it was a cold winter with snow falling, while inside, the air was warm and filled with the aroma of wine.

Song Xingye leaned against Li Fengxian's back, absentmindedly wondering where the Forbes might be drifting on Earth right now.

Suddenly, a round of enthusiastic and sustained applause erupted throughout the hall.

He looked up and saw that it was the female reporter from CCTV who had accompanied the test team on the interview.

The female reporter's name was Yue Miaomiao. As expected of someone with formal training, her voice was melodious and sweet, like a nightingale's.

Even Li Fengxian, a rough and unrefined man, was captivated by the music, clapping and cheering like a monkey in heat.

Song Xingye rubbed his ears, which were ringing from the shock, and looked somewhat helpless.

Reporter Yue looked around the room with a bright smile and began with a wonderful opening: "I am Yue Miaomiao, a reporter from CCTV. It is an honor to be your guest host in Baikonur, the place where human spaceflight dreams took flight."

"At this moment, the temperature outside the window is about minus twenty degrees Celsius, and the wind is howling through Launch Pad No. 1. In the culture of the East, today is a special day—the winter solstice."

"The ancient people of the East said that when Yin reaches its extreme, Yang begins to emerge. This means that when you pass through the longest night, the days of light begin to return. I think this is very similar to the space program that everyone is engaged in —"

Yue Miaomiao delivered her speech fluently and eloquently. Whether she had rehearsed beforehand or not, she spoke entirely without notes, and her delivery was full of emotion and passion.

"—Friends, raise your glasses to this long night of togetherness, and to the great friendship of humanity's peaceful exploration of space! Cheers! 3a3AopOBbe!"

Then melodious music filled the air; someone started playing the accordion.

As if by magic, Yue Miaomiao twirled gracefully, bowed slightly to everyone, raised her right hand, swung her long arm, and began to dance a solo to cheerful music.

Her long skirt fluttered in the wind, and her red sleeves danced gracefully.

The blond, blue-eyed foreigners stared in disbelief, whistling incessantly.

Li Fengxian's eyes widened, and he nudged Song Xingye's arm: "Wow! I never would have guessed that reporter Yue was so well-endowed after taking off her down jacket!"

Song Xingye, munching on a piece of hand-pulled mutton, commented seriously, "You're not bad either, all brawn and no brains."

Li Fengxian clicked his tongue, then grinned mischievously. "Are you praising me or insulting me? Hey, regretting it now? When you first arrived, Reporter Yue invited you to dance, and you pretended to politely decline."

"What's there to regret? If you want to jump, go ahead now."

Li Fengxian shrank back; he didn't have that kind of confidence.

In the center of the field, reporter Yue landed on his left foot, then quickly raised his right foot and spun towards the edge of the crowd.

Her dance was passionate and unrestrained, her waist twisting like a snake, her arms sometimes stretching upwards, sometimes crossing to the left and right, while her feet constantly changed positions.

Her beautiful hair rippled like waves, and the hem of her skirt almost brushed against Song Xingye's face.

The latter didn't know what kind of dance Yue Miaomiao was performing—ballet, waltz, samba, tap dance, or classical dance?

However, it is indeed pleasing to the eye.

With a faint fragrance wafting through the air, she twirled past, her gaze seemingly lingering on him for a few seconds, whether intentionally or unintentionally.

Li Fengxian caught that look and became even more excited: "Hey, hey, hey! Did you see that? That look, isn't that the legendary 'flirting glance'?"

"I think you're just bored." Song Xingye rolled her eyes at him. "You're always spouting nonsense."

"You're such a blockhead!"

Li Fengxian was exasperated, "A beautiful woman paired with a hero, what a great script! You just had to play a passerby."

Song Xingye was too lazy to respond.

At that moment, he saw Mr. Zhang, who was not far away, get up, take his phone, and go outside to answer a call.

Not long after, when Zhang Jingshan returned, his rosy complexion was gone, replaced by a solemn expression.

He leaned over and whispered a few words in Chen's ear, and Chen's eyes widened in surprise, his expression changing drastically.

Although Song Xingye didn't know what the two were talking about, he instinctively guessed that it was definitely not a good thing.

He found out very quickly.

After the party ended, the test team returned to their base in Dongguo.

Before they could even wash up, General Manager Zhang gathered everyone together and announced some bad news: "Comrades—we have just received an urgent notice from our superiors."

"Given the prolonged fruitless search, NASA is deciding to abandon the Mars search mission. The group has ordered the test team to prepare to return home."

These words immediately caused an uproar among the test team.

"What? Withdraw from the event?"

"Are we just going to give up? We've already caught a signal twice!"

"We're just one step away from victory! If we retreat now, won't all our efforts be in vain?!"

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