Chapter 457 Under the Spotlight

"At the third intersection to the east, someone crossed the line!"

Before the voice on the walkie-talkie had even faded, Yang Xiaobing had already jumped off the lead vehicle. He pushed through the crowd and saw two soldiers pinning a man to the asphalt. The man's camera had been thrown three meters away, its lens shattering.

"Let me go! I'm a reporter!" The man twisted his body, rubbing his face against the ground.

Yang Xiaobing squatted down and pulled a wet press pass from his pocket—Xinhua News Agency, Liu Weidong. He turned the pass over; the photo didn't match.

"This is not your certificate."

The man paused for a moment. "I borrowed it."

"Borrowed?" Yang Xiaobing stood up and put the ID card into his pocket. "Give me the film roll."

The soldier took a roll of film out of the camera and handed it to Yang Xiaobing. Yang glanced at it against the sunlight; half the roll was already used. "Here's your camera back. If you rush any further, I'll charge you with endangering national security."

The man got up, took the camera, his lips trembling as he didn't dare utter a sound. Yang Xiaobing turned and walked towards the lead car, then took a couple of steps and turned back. "Liu Weidong, go back and tell your company that no one is allowed to take pictures on this road today."

The engine hood of the lead vehicle was open, and hot air rushed towards his face. Ma Yuejin squatted in front of the water tank, the hair on the back of his hands curling from the heat.

"The fan belt is broken." He unscrewed the radiator cover, and steam rushed out with a hissing sound.

He Yuzhu glanced at his watch. "How long?"

"The spare is in the last car, I'll go get it." Ma Yuejin turned and ran.

The convoy stopped. The Kunlun hovered in mid-air, its insulation layer gleaming blindingly white in the sunlight. The crowd began to surge forward, the special forces soldiers forming a human wall, hand in hand, pushed backward. An old woman in a floral cotton-padded jacket squeezed through a gap in the human wall, carrying a basket of eggs, and shouted "May Buddha protect us!" towards the Kunlun.

Yang Xiaobing ran over and bent down to help the old lady. "Auntie, it's dangerous here, please stand back."

The old woman glanced at him and held the basket up high. "It's for the astronauts, from our own chickens."

Yang Xiaobing took the basket and handed it to the soldier behind him. "Take it to the back vehicle and give it to Director He." He helped the old lady walk back, and the crowd parted to make way for her.

Ma Yuejin ran back, clutching two leather belts in his hands. The old one was broken in two, and the new one was wider.

"The model is wrong; it's two millimeters too wide. It won't fit."

He Yuzhu pulled a paper cutter from his toolbox. "Slice."

Ma Yuejin squatted down and began shaving the edge of the belt, one cut at a time. Rubber shavings stuck to his fingers, black and sticky. After a few cuts, he compared the belt to the wheel groove; it was still a little short. He made a few more cuts.

"Alright."

He put on the belt, used a crowbar to hold the tensioner pulley in place, and tucked the belt in. He started the engine, and the belt turned a few times in the pulley groove before settling in. The water temperature gauge needle stopped at the edge of the red line.

"Walk."

The convoy restarted. After another two hours, they passed a railway crossing.

The railings were down, and a dozen or so railway workers stood on either side of the crossing, looking up at the bottom of the ship, their hats off and in their hands. A young worker squatted beside the rails, touched the rails with his hand, stood up, and shouted to the person next to him, "No vibration, it's floating."

Just as the lead car passed the intersection, a ball rolled out of the crowd and bounced into the middle of the road.

Yang Xiaobing saw it in the rearview mirror and grabbed the walkie-talkie. "Stop the car!"

The screeching of brakes was deafening. The ball rolled to a stop in front of the front wheels. A boy of about seven or eight squeezed through the crowd, ran to the middle of the road, and picked up the ball. He looked up and saw the hull of the Kunlun ship hanging above his head. He froze, his face tilted back, his mouth agape.

Yang Xiaobing ran over, picked up the child, and strode back to the roadside. He squatted down and held the child's shoulders with both hands.

"Little friend, you can't pick up balls in the road anymore. Do you understand?"

The child nodded, hugged the ball tightly, and shrank into the crowd.

The convoy traveled for a full forty hours. The daytime heat in the Gobi Desert was scorching, while the nighttime chill was bone-chilling. The tow truck drivers worked in two shifts, drinking strong tea to stay awake when they were tired.

He Yuzhu sat in the passenger seat of the lead car the whole time, occasionally closing his eyes, and never closing his clothes.

At 7:50 a.m. on the third day, the launch tower came into view. The convoy slowed down, and the Kunlun slowly drifted through the last few kilometers.

Yang Xiaobing picked up the walkie-talkie. "Attention all posts, prepare to move in. Expand the perimeter of the launch site to 500 meters."

The Kunlun hovered above the launch pad, slowly descending. Hydraulic supports extended their struts, bracing against the load-bearing points on the hull. The anti-gravity system shut down; the coil emitted a short, sharp sigh as the current was cut off. The weight of the hull fell onto the supports, the sound of metal slamming echoing through the empty launch site.

The room fell silent for a few seconds. Then some people applauded, and some whistled.

He Yuzhu pushed open the car door, stood below the launch pad, and looked up at the Kunlun. Morning light filtered through the edge of the hull, cutting a straight line of light and shadow across the ground. There was a shallow scratch on the hull's insulation layer, probably from when it was towed from the shipyard.

Qin Huairu walked to his side and put her hand in his arm.

"Nianhua is at school," she said. "Yesterday after school, he saw the live broadcast on TV and called me. He said all his classmates were watching."

"He didn't ask for leave?"

"No. He said he'd come after the exam."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Yang Xiaobing walked out of the crowd, holding a walkie-talkie, his face looking rather grim.

"Director He, we have new intelligence from Nevada. The US military's underground factory has begun producing neural chips for third-generation bio-warriors. The first batch of chips was shipped out yesterday, and its whereabouts are unknown."

He Yuzhu looked at the Kunlun without turning around. "Extend the perimeter by another two hundred meters. From today onwards, anyone entering or leaving within a one-kilometer radius of the launch site must register."

Yang Xiaobing nodded, turned around and left.

He Yuzhu's phone rang—the cell phone that came with the car, as big as a brick. He answered it, and it was He Nianhua's voice on the other end.

"Dad, I'm watching TV. Has it arrived?"

"arrive."

"Can I take time off to watch the maiden flight?"

He Yuzhu paused for a moment. "If you get into the top ten in your grade, I'll have Yang Xiaobing pick you up."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone. He Nianhua said "Okay" and then hung up.

Qin Huairu gripped He Yuzhu's arm tightly, her fingertips exerting a slight pressure. In the distance, on the Gobi Desert, the wind whipped up sand and dust, obscuring the horizon.