I started with a ship full of max-level veterans, and I'm just a complete noob.

The next day at noon, the long life test of the type B tube reached its 420th hour.

Jiang Ming checked the forms one last time in Workshop No. 1.

The anode current of the five tubes did not drift, and the temperature difference between the inlet and outlet of the cooling water was kept within the recording line.

Old Sun stood to the side with his duty log in hand, having already circled the next clock calibration time in red pencil.

"I'll say it again." Jiang Ming capped his pen. "Just record the data, don't touch the wiring."

Old Sun nodded: "You go to Fengtai, leave this to me."

The old Jeep in the factory was parked outside the workshop, its engine already running and white smoke billowing from the exhaust pipe.

Wu Hanzhang was sitting in the passenger seat. When he saw Jiang Ming get out, he reached out and opened the car door.

The jeep started to bump after passing Yongding Gate.

The potholes on the road were frozen solid, and the sound of the tires rolling over them came up from the chassis, making the metal toolbox in the back seat clang loudly.

Wu Hanzhang turned halfway around and spoke to Jiang Ming in the back row.

"The framework for the task force was finalized last night."

"The Institute of Physics, Chinese Academy of Sciences, has selected someone from its microwave group, and the Third Electronics Factory has chosen you."

"The technical appraisal will be jointly signed by the two of you, the process breakdown and material analysis will be done in our factory, and the administrative coordination will be handled by my name."

Jiang Ming asked, "What's Fang's background?"

"He's from the Institute of Physics, in his early forties, and specializes in microwave resonant cavity theory."

"I've read a lot of literature and published several papers, but I've heard that I haven't really handled any actual objects."

Jiang Ming didn't ask any more questions. He leaned back in his seat and looked out the car window at the withered trees and gray walls receding into the distance.

After the Jeep turned onto the highway towards Fengtai, the road surface became smoother, and the engine noise became more even.

The Fengtai marshalling yard is much larger than Jiang Ming had imagined.

The railway tracks branched out in all directions like a spider web, and shunting locomotives shuttled back and forth in the distance, puffing out white steam.

The military-dedicated line platform is at the easternmost end, separated by two layers of barbed wire.

A white metal sign with red lettering hangs above the wall, reading "Military Control Zone".

The jeep stopped in front of the guard post.

A dispatcher in a four-pocket uniform held a list, checked the three people's identification, made a phone call, and then waved them on.

There was already someone standing on the platform.

He was in his early forties, of medium build, wearing round-framed glasses, a navy blue cotton overcoat with the collar turned up, and carrying a canvas tool bag in his hand.

"Comrade Fang?" Wu Hanzhang went to greet him first.

Chief Engineer Wu.

The other person reached out and shook hands, his gaze passing over Wu Hanzhang and landing on Jiang Ming.

"Is this Engineer Jiang?"

"Jiang Ming".

Jiang Ming shook hands with him and noticed calluses on the other man's fingers.

Those weren't calluses from using a pen; they looked more like the marks from years of tightening screws and fiddling with instruments.

"Fang Xudong, from the Institute of Physics, just call me Lao Fang from now on."

The three people waited on the platform for less than ten minutes.

The outline of a train appeared at the end of the railway tracks in the distance, moving very slowly, as if someone was slowly releasing the handbrake.

The locomotive approached, spewing thick smoke, followed by a dozen or so boxcars.

Two large brass padlocks hung on the last section of the iron gate, and a red lead seal was pasted across the door seam.

The seal was stamped with the round seal of the military region's logistics department.

After the train came to a complete stop, the side door of the last carriage was pushed open a crack from the inside.

A young platoon leader in a cotton military uniform jumped down, with a pistol holster on his waist, followed by four soldiers carrying guns.

"Identification documents".

Without exchanging pleasantries, the platoon leader took the work permits and delivery slips issued by the ministries from the three men and checked them one by one.

Then he flipped the delivery note to the back and looked at the red serial number stamp on it.

"Break the seal."

A soldier stepped forward and used pliers to cut the wire on the lead seal.

After the two brass locks were opened with the key, the iron gate slid to the bottom with a loud crash.

There were no lights inside the carriage.

Jiang Ming stood at the door and looked inside. With the help of the daylight outside, he could barely make out a metal box that was about half a person's height.

The box sat in the center of the carriage, its four corners secured to U-shaped rings on the floor with chains.

A hand-cranked generator was placed on each side of the box, with the crank handles removed and tied to the sides of the box.

The metal box had a red-painted serial number on the outside, but the three numbers had been worn and blurred.

A paper label was affixed to the side of the box, with characters in a mix of Mongolian and Russian; the paper was yellowed and curled at the edges.

Jiang Ming's gaze lingered on the top of the box.

A circular flange protrudes from the sheet metal surface, about three centimeters in diameter, with four bolt holes along its edge.

The inside of the flange has a machined stepped surface.

Waveguide interface.

Fang Xudong saw it too.

He took a step forward, adjusted his glasses, stared at the flange for a few seconds, and then turned to look at Jiang Ming.

The two looked at each other, but neither of them spoke.

"Load it onto the truck," Wu Hanzhang called to the truck driver on the platform to back up.

The four soldiers unchained the iron box, used crowbars to pry it onto the steel plate track at the entrance of the carriage, and pushed it out little by little.

The box landed on the concrete surface of the platform with a dull thud.

The weight is estimated to be over 80 kilograms.

The two hand-cranked generators were moved down and placed to the side, each weighing about thirty or forty pounds.

The truck bed was lined with old military blankets.

The iron box was pushed up and secured with ropes, while the generator was jammed on both sides.

The escort platoon leader jumped into the passenger seat.

A military jeep led the way, followed by trucks, with an old jeep from the Third Electronics Factory bringing up the rear.

The three cars lined up in a single file and drove out of the marshalling yard gate.

……

It was already dark when I arrived at the factory.

The lights were on at the guard post at the factory gate.

Upon seeing the military vehicle clearing the way, the elderly security guard on duty immediately called the security department.

The iron box was not carried into the main entrance of Workshop No. 1, but was instead carried in through the small iron door on the south side that was usually locked.

Old Sun and Da Liu had already emptied the storage room in Nantou, as Wu Hanzhang had called in advance.

The worktable was sanded and covered with a clean canvas.

Two 100-watt incandescent light bulbs hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room brightly.

When the iron box was placed on the workbench, the wooden legs of the table creaked.

Old Sun quickly placed a brick under each of his four legs.

"Let's open it."

Jiang Ming looked at Wu Hanzhang.

Wu Hanzhang nodded.

Old Sun took the angle grinder off the tool rack and plugged in the power cord.

The grinding wheel started spinning, emitting a piercing hiss.

He put on his goggles, bent down, and aligned the grinding wheel with the weld seam on the top of the iron box.

Sparks shot out instantly, hitting the canvas and bouncing off, and the smell of burning quickly filled half the room.

The weld thickness is approximately three millimeters.

Old Sun cut along the four sides one by one. The sheet metal changed color when heated, from silver-gray to bluish-purple, and then to charred black.

Fifteen minutes later, the last weld was cut off, and the top cover loosened.

Da Liu handed over a flat-headed crowbar.

Old Sun inserted the crowbar into the gap and pried it open. The top cover popped up, and he flipped it aside with both hands, slamming it to the ground with a dull thud.

The box was stuffed with wood shavings and oil-soaked wrapping paper.

The air smelled of stale engine oil mixed with rust.

Jiang Ming put on cotton gloves and peeled off the wood shavings and oil paper layer by layer.

Beneath the oil paper was a copper-colored metal cylinder.

The surface has lathe-machined textures, and two rings of hexagonal bolts fix the upper and lower end caps to the main body.

The waveguide output port, visible from the outside, is located at the top center, and the inner wall is machined to be smooth and shiny.

The bottom is connected to a pair of broken cathode pins by two thick copper wires, and the broken ends are oxidized and turned green.

Old Sun handed the flashlight to Jiang Ming.

Jiang Ming took it, bent down, and aimed the beam at the waveguide opening to shine it inside.

As light shines in, it is reflected by the inner wall into several scattered light spots.

On the copper-colored inner wall, fine machining marks are arranged regularly.

He adjusted the angle so that the beam of light cut in at an angle.

The internal structure gradually came into view.

Fan-shaped openings, symmetrically distributed.

One, two, three.

When he counted to the eighth one, the flashlight beam had just completed a full circle and returned to the starting point.

Eight chambers.

Fang Xudong saw it too.

He took a step forward, pushed up his glasses, stared at the waveguide port for a few seconds, and then turned to look at Jiang Ming.

The two looked at each other, but neither spoke immediately.

"Eight chambers." Fang Xudong's voice was very soft.

Jiang Ming straightened up and moved the flashlight beam away from the waveguide port.

He didn't reply, but simply handed the flashlight back to Old Sun and put his hands back into his work clothes pockets.

My fingertips touched the hard cover of the kraft paper notebook through the fabric.

Wu Hanzhang glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Will they continue dismantling tonight?"

"No, that won't do," Jiang Ming said. "The lighting isn't good enough, and the measurements are prone to errors. We'll officially start work tomorrow morning, beginning with non-destructive external measurements."

Fang Xudong did not object, but glanced at the bronze cylinder again, as if reluctant to leave.

Wu Hanzhang immediately arranged for the escort platoon leader and soldiers to take turns standing guard outside the storage warehouse, and added a second lock to the gate.

Old Sun covered the iron box again with a canvas, tucking the edges of the canvas tightly.

When the lights went out, only the blurry outline of the iron box remained in the confidential compartment.

The notebook in Jiang Ming's pocket felt like a block of ice, pressed against his palm.