Chapter 30
The activation process of "Undercurrent Trail" was like a delicate neurosurgery. The star map data provided by Wen Ling was the key scalpel, while Miao Weizhen was the lead surgeon, calmly directing the injection of energy and the awakening of the beacon.
The entire process lasted several hours. When the last gravitational beacon was successfully activated, a channel invisible to the naked eye appeared deep within the dark stellar debris belt, like a sleeping giant python slowly awakening, and subtle ripples began to appear in space.
"Success!" A young engineer in front of the operating table couldn't help but exclaim, his face filled with joy.
However, Miao Weizhen's face showed no sign of relief. He stared intently at the main screen, which displayed the movement of the Federation reconnaissance ship. As expected, it was attracted by the sudden, seemingly natural gravitational fluctuation, adjusting its course and cautiously heading towards the entrance of the "Undercurrent Trail."
"Luo Yan," Miao Weizhen's voice was icy and without any fluctuation, "Prepare the 'bear trap'."
Wen Ling's heart trembled, "A trap?"
He looked at Miao Weizhen, only to see that his eyes were as sharp as an eagle, and his tightly pursed thin lips formed a cold straight line.
"What do you want to do?" Wen Ling couldn't help but ask, with an ominous premonition rising in his heart.
Miao Weizhen didn't look at him, his eyes still locked on the screen: "Eliminate the threat."
"The gravitational disturbance is enough to mislead it, preventing it from discovering the base..."
"Not enough." Miao Weizhen interrupted him, his tone firm, "Misleading is only temporary. Let it leave with doubts, or let it remain silent forever? Which choice is more thorough? Your Highness, don't you understand?"
His words were like an icicle, piercing the brief warmth in the command room. Wen Ling looked at his calm, almost ruthless profile and suddenly realized that she sometimes forgot his other side. His resoluteness, his coldness, were rules of survival deeply ingrained in him.
"We can capture it and obtain intelligence..."
"The risk is too high." Miao Weizhen interrupted again. He finally turned his head and looked at Wen Ling. His dark brown eyes were now filled with cold calculation. "We don't have the resources or time to take risks. The simplest way is to let it trigger the radiation burst zone of the pulsar debris."
He wanted to use that channel as bait to lure the reconnaissance ship and its crew into a death trap.
"There are living people up there." Wen Ling's voice rose a little.
"They are the enemy," Miao Weizhen's voice remained steady, yet tinged with undeniable cruelty. "To be kind to the enemy is to be cruel to your own people. I thought you understood this principle at Rust Harbor."
"This is different, this is a massacre!"
"This is war," Miao Weizhen suddenly raised his voice. He stepped forward, approaching Wen Ling, and the atmosphere between them, which had just relaxed, suddenly became tense. He was slightly taller than Wen Ling, and now his aura of oppression loomed over her. "Do you think we're playing a polite game of interstellar chess here, Your Highness? Your kindness and compassion are worthless in the face of life and death."
His words stabbed into Wen Ling's heart like a knife. Wen Ling looked at his face so close to her. There was no wavering on it, only the coldness and hardness of using any means to achieve his goal.
The command center was completely silent, and everyone held their breath. Luo Yan stood aside, expressionless, as if he was accustomed to this scene. Lao Lin remained silent over the communication channel. Even the usually lively Ah Yuan bit his lip, not daring to speak.
Wen Ling clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging deep into his palms. He understood Miao Weizhen's logic, and couldn't even completely refute it intellectually. But he still found it hard to accept this callous treatment of life as a mere number.
At this moment, the reconnaissance ship had followed the gravitational fluctuations and entered the preset danger zone.
Miao Weizhen stopped looking at Wen Ling and turned to give the order: "Luo Yan, detonate the preset energy nodes, disrupt its navigation system, and push it into the radiation zone."
"Yes." Luo Yan followed the order without hesitation.
On the screen, the dot of light representing the reconnaissance ship suddenly became chaotic, and then, as if pushed by an invisible giant hand, it swerved and crashed into the unstable radiation zone that represented death. A blinding white light flashed, and the dot of light disappeared in an instant.
The threat has been lifted.
A few sighs of relief were heard in the command center, and the atmosphere relaxed slightly.
But Wen Ling felt a chill running up his spine from the soles of his feet. He looked at Miao Weizhen's back. The man with whom he had just had an ambiguous moment now looked a little strange in his eyes.
Miao Weizhen slowly turned around, his face expressionless, as if he had just issued a very ordinary order. His eyes swept across the crowd, finally landing on Wen Ling's pale face.
"Cleanup complete," he said calmly, then walked straight past Wen Ling and headed towards the exit.
At the moment they passed by, he left a cold sentence in a voice that only the two of them could hear:
"Put away your unnecessary pity. If you want to survive, if you want to protect what you care about, this is the price you must pay."
Wen Ling froze in place, watching his retreating figure. The lingering warmth on her forehead now felt ironic. The budding seeds of love had barely broken through the soil when they encountered the harsh frost of reality. The road between them seemed far more rugged and difficult than she had imagined. And Ayuan's worried gaze, Luo Yan's silent following, and Lao Lin's barely audible sigh over the communication channel all served as silent footnotes, outlining the inevitable conflicts and choices along this path.
The next day, Wen Ling went to the workshop as usual. Old Lin was frowning over an overloaded and burned energy distributor, his hands greasy. Wen Ling silently picked up his tools and stepped forward to help dismantle it. His movements were precise, but with a heavier force than usual. The sound of the wrench colliding with the alloy components was particularly harsh in the silent workshop.
"The third buckle of the coupler," Lao Lin suddenly said in a hoarse voice, "turn it 45 degrees counterclockwise and then pull it out, don't pry it hard." He glanced at Wen Ling with cloudy eyes, then lowered his head, "If you're impatient, you can't install it, and you can't take it apart."
Wen Ling paused, realizing his own gaffe. He followed his instructions and successfully removed the faulty part. As he handed the part over, Lao Lin's rough fingers once again inadvertently brushed against the calloused skin on his right palm. This time, the old technician said nothing, but his gaze deepened.
At lunchtime, the atmosphere in the dining area was subdued. Ah Yuan placed a portion of her hydroponically grown fresh fruit in Wen Ling's usual spot and gave him a worried smile.
Wen Ling thanked him softly, but he had no appetite.
He saw Miao Weizhen sitting alone in a far corner, the food in front of him almost untouched, just holding a cup of thick black synthetic coffee, his eyes fixed on the eternal starry sky outside the porthole, the lines of his profile as tense as a fully drawn bow.
Dr. Case sat down opposite him with a tray and whispered something. Miao Weizhen just shook his head very slightly.
In the afternoon, Wen Ling tried to drown his thoughts in the complex data in the database. He called up the structural diagram of the "Iron Throne", but his eyes couldn't help but search for the encrypted partition related to the neural interface.
The place he had stumbled into, and where Miao Weizhen had "just happened" to stumble upon. The access was still open to him, but he didn't click in. Some truths, in the coldness of the moment, seemed even more burdensome.
Luo Yan appeared at the doorway. Her mechanical prosthetic eye swept over Wen Ling and she delivered her instructions in a businesslike manner: "Your Highness Wen Ling, the Minister requires a review of all redundant parameters in the 'Undercurrent Trail' gravity model. Submit a report within one standard hour."
This was Miao Weizhen's style, filling any gaps in communication with intense work. Wen Ling silently took the data pad, her fingertips turning slightly white from the pressure.
Midway through the review, Wen Ling discovered a very slight coordinate discrepancy, stemming from an underestimation of the gravitational decay coefficient of an aging pulsar. While small, in extreme cases, this discrepancy could affect the stability of the route. He hesitated for a moment, then highlighted the issue in red in his report and included a suggested correction.
After submitting the report, it fell on deaf ears. No response, no summons. It wasn't until evening that Wen Ling ran into Miao Weizhen in the hallway. He and Luo Yan were walking quickly, seemingly on their way to attend to urgent matters.
Their gazes met briefly in mid-air. Miao Weizhen's eyes remained deep, yet they seemed covered by a layer of ice, sealing all emotion beneath them. Wen Ling could see a faint dark tinge beneath his eyes, and his face was paler than usual. The neuralgia Dr. Keith had mentioned seemed to be tormenting him again.
The moment they passed each other, Wen Ling smelled the familiar scent of cedar and cold metal, but at this moment, the scent also carried a chill that kept people away.
"Report received," Miao Weizhen's voice slid past Wen Ling's ears in a low voice, without any warmth or pause, "The coordinate deviation has been corrected."
There was only this sentence. There was no acknowledgement of the problem, nor any of the implicit test or guidance of the past. He treated it like an ordinary technician who needed to ensure the accuracy of his work.
Wen Ling stood there, watching him and Luo Yan disappear around the corner. He felt a suffocating feeling in his chest, unable to either vent or swallow. He found himself preferring Miao Weizhen to argue with him with sharp words, as he had before, rather than this complete, cold indifference. This indifference, more clearly than any direct confrontation, delineated the chasm between them.
He returned to his resting cabin. The cramped space still seemed to linger with the bitter scent of the other person's body and the cool touch of his jawline when they had accidentally come so close. That brief moment of near-touch formed a cruel contrast with the icy wall that now stretched between them.
Love quietly grew in their hearts, but was strangled by the iron fist of reality. They were trapped in their own positions and principles, and they were so close, but it seemed as if there was a broken galaxy between them.
At this moment, the alarm on the bottom floor of the base sounded again, more urgent and sharp than the last time.
Luo Yan's calm but fast-talking voice came from the radio -
"Multiple targets detected approaching! Identified as the advance reconnaissance team of the Federation's Seventh Fleet! I repeat, not a single target, but a reconnaissance team! Estimated time of contact: 24 standard hours!"
The storm came faster and more violently than expected.
Wen Ling stood up abruptly, all his turmoil and pain instantly overwhelmed by a sense of crisis. He took a deep breath, a sharp light rekindled in his green eyes, pushed open the hatch, and quickly walked towards the command center.
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