95: Chapter 15 The Chaotic Beginning 95: Chapter 15 The Chaotic Beginning Perhaps it was because last night’s bizarre dream was so absurd or simply due to not being accustomed to the tropical climate, suffering from acclimatization issues.

Xiang Shan did not sleep well last night.

After brushing his teeth, Xiang Shan wanted to go to the cafeteria for breakfast.

But as he stepped out of the dorm and turned the first corner, he got quite a shock.

He remembered that yesterday, there was only a two-hundred-meter straight distance from the dormitory to the cafeteria.

Yet overnight, on this two-hundred-meter distance, rows of houses had appeared.

They sprung up like mushrooms that had grown overnight.

Many soldiers dressed in military uniforms and wearing blue helmets were transporting goods into these two- and three-story houses.

They were assembling office furniture made of high-strength composite materials, which were both cheap and lightweight.

“Wow, the efficiency is indeed terrifying,” Xiang Shan nodded unconsciously, “Has human construction-related technology advanced to this extent?”

At this moment, Xiang Shan’s new phone suddenly beeped with a notification.

“Good morning, Researcher Xiang Shan.

Please arrive at the ‘Rama Special Project’ Engineering Research Center before 8:30 AM.”

This message was sent in Chinese, English, and several other scripts that Xiang Shan did not recognize.

There was also an accompanying satellite map, marking the location of the dormitory and the destination.

Breakfast still offered bread, mashed potatoes, and the meat had been switched to sausages, with scrambled eggs and egg pancakes additionally provided.

Xiang Shan had no objections to the strongly peppered mashed potatoes but felt that he was starting to miss boiled noodles.

The destination, the Rama Special Project Engineering Research Center, is a three-story building that was just completed this morning—or rather, it now only had three walls, with one side still open.

The building covered nearly a thousand square meters.

The first floor seemed to be arranged as some kind of experimental site.

Technical staff in military uniforms were setting up structures to isolate dust and laying special power lines.

Xiang Shan glanced twice and noticed that the first floor’s plan seemed to accommodate large equipment.

The wall was likely left open because of these considerations.

Once those large instruments were in place, they would probably seal off the wall.

Xiang Shan ran into Liu Zhenghui at the entrance.

The master and student duo proceeded to the second floor of the research center, following the directions.

The second floor appeared to be the office area.

The basic wiring and audio-visual equipment had already been installed, and several military personnel were rapidly assembling office desks and chairs.

David Klein was standing in front of the crowd.

Behind him, there was a desk that had just been assembled, and several printers were operating at full speed.

A few clerical-looking soldiers were quickly binding the printed materials and sorting them on the desks.

Xiang Shan felt that the composite materials composing the desk were emitting pained groans.

Liu remarked, “Tsk tsk, seems like our country’s young scholars’ development is still lagging.

The average age here must be below forty, right?”

Xiang Shan nodded, “Yeah, average our ages, and you get the average age here.”

“Suddenly, I feel old,” Liu mused to himself, “Why do you think the scholars from the Federation are noticeably younger?

Is it because this project needs people who are more accepting of aliens?

Or with a richer imagination…

that’s not right either.

Those who grew up reading the golden age of science fiction are pretty much our generation, right?”

This was not quite the “meet and greet” Xiang Shan had envisioned.

It was still chaotic around them.

Master and student talking wouldn’t draw anyone’s attention.

The space was slightly cramped due to some soldiers still assembling office furniture, and the central air conditioning wasn’t fully installed yet.

Only a few high-power fans were facilitating air circulation.

In such an environment, the hot and humid weather of Southeast Asia felt doubly oppressive.

Xiang Shan thought that the meeting smelled of sweat.

“Hey, buddy, nice to see you again…” David Klein waved at Xiang Shan, “I remember you…

you were yesterday…

yesterday…”

“I sat next to that guy who was laughing his head off,” Xiang Shan quickly extended his hand for a shake.

“Oh, right.

That guy should’ve gone to the anthropology analysis department,” David nodded, “You’re also responsible for engineering analysis, right?

What was your field of study before?

Aerospace technology or electronics?”

Liu hurriedly elbowed his way forward, “We’re together.

We’re both from Tsinghua University, originally working on hardware.”

David Klein reached out his hand, “David Klein, introduced myself yesterday, from NASA.”

“Liu Zhenghui.

This is my student, Xiang Shan.” Liu took over the conversation, “What’s happening now?

Why is there no one presiding over the meeting?”

“You don’t know?

In this special project, the scientific research departments have considerable autonomy.” David said, “This is unprecedented, so researchers have more say than any bureaucrats…

Also, in some sense, the traditional academic ecosystem is not very suitable for such a special project, and the higher-ups don’t have experience in handling these matters either.

Can you understand?”

When it comes to research, it all boils down to one word: money.

No matter who you are, if you can find a “capitalist” willing to burn cash for your dreams, then you can establish your own research project.

Within your project, you have the final say—until you either produce results or run out of money.

In this ecosystem, however, the relationship between students and mentors is not like the modern educational system’s “teacher and student.” It’s even closer to the old society’s apprenticeship or indentured servitude.

The future of the students can be largely determined by the personal will of the mentors, rather than by the educational system itself.

But the “Rama Special Project” has a completely different background.

The initiation of projects within it cannot be decided by any one individual or country.

The distribution of interests involved could realistically affect the entire world.

“All bureaucrats are accusing other bureaucrats of being unprofessional, thinking that others’ interference is unreasonable.

There is also controversy among scholars.

Many are reluctant to accept the leadership of those appointed by bureaucrats, those who…

‘have less impressive resumes than me,'” David Klein explained.

“On the other hand, most of the experts in the world who are able to access ‘Argon’ intelligence are here.

Even if the major nations have left some advisors behind, in terms of expertise they cannot compare to us on the front line.”

“So, as of now, we have autonomy,” he said.

Xiang Shan pointed to the desk behind David, “Is this…”

“The papers of Engineering Research Center members,” David replied.

“Many people here are from different countries and know very little about each other.

So a few former NASA colleagues and I thought it might be a good idea to start off by reading each other’s papers to deepen understanding.

We even applied to hold a departmental party in the cafeteria.

But since the cafeteria is only a temporary setup and not equipped for such an event, our application was rejected.”

Xiang Shan clicked his tongue, “You people from the Federation are quite outgoing…”

“Ah, right, the guys from the Information and Security department just wrote a rudimentary chat program.

Have you joined it yet?”

As David spoke, he took out his phone, “A couple of buddies put it together last night, just a very basic little thing,” he said.

Liu was a bit concerned, “Is that allowed?”

The fact that it wasn’t distributed through official channels made him hesitate a bit.

“Hmm?” David appeared puzzled, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, aren’t these types of private chat software prohibited?” Liu asked.

“That’s not the case,” David Klein sighed.

“They only blocked the internet, rendering all chat software from outside unusable.

The servers for this new chat software are under the scrutiny of the United Nations, completely legal and in compliance with regulations.”

Liu wondered, “Then why not notify everyone to download the software?”

“Why?

It’s a tool for voluntary use, right?” David countered.

“There’s no requirement to download it, is there?”

Liu felt a bit more at ease upon hearing this.

David transferred the installation package to them via Bluetooth, only a few hundred KB in size.

This small size was somewhat reassuring.

Liu, however, didn’t install it right away, instead he planned to go back and consult with his superiors before deciding.

Xiang Shan wanted to see if he could find the tools to deconstruct and examine the code.

Neither of them installed it immediately, and David Klein was not surprised.

Being cautious about such things in a sensitive project was very normal.

He said, “In principle, we encourage the use of real names, but it’s not a mandatory rule—here, these are the other members’ papers.”

Xiang Shan and Liu each received several kilograms of paper.

David even kindly found paper bags to help them pack up their documents.

“All set, my friend,” David Klein handed the paper bag to Liu, “Of course, reading papers is not the only way for scholars to communicate.

Personally, I suggest that while we still have some freedom, we should chat…

And not just here, it’s better to go to other places.

God, this weather is truly deadly.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he spoke.

Xiang Shan turned to head towards the cafeteria, thinking of sipping a cold drink while reading the papers—the cafeteria allowed for self-service ice cubes in the juice and soda.

That’s precisely what he needed right now.

But Liu grabbed him, “Hold on, this is a great opportunity to get acquainted with colleagues from other countries!”