Chapter 458 The Final Debugging

Lin Jianguo slammed the report onto the control panel, the pages scattering in a flurry. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out; he first pointed at the screen, then withdrew his hand. He Yuzhu stared at the plummeting curve, not urging him on.

"Dean He... the data is incorrect." Lin Jianguo swallowed hard. "It deviates from the theoretical value by twelve percent. The first two times were normal, but the third time it suddenly dropped."

"When did it start?"

"This morning. I thought it was a sensor issue—I changed three probes, and the data was exactly the same." His voice trailed off, until the last few words were almost muffled.

Qian Zhiyuan ran over from the superconducting ring, his forehead covered in sweat, and the collar of his work clothes soaked. "The magnetic field uniformity of the superconducting ring is within 0.5%, which meets the design specifications. The problem isn't with the hardware."

"I didn't say there was a problem with the hardware." Lin Jianguo raised his head, his eyes red-rimmed. "The software has run thousands of simulations and has never had any problems."

"Then tell me what the problem is?" Qian Zhiyuan raised his voice.

"I didn't know. That's why I'm checking."

He Yuzhu didn't reply. He walked to the control panel, tapping the drop point with his finger, his nail tapping the screen. "Investigate the software. Start from the bottom layer of code, check line by line. There are still thirty days until the maiden flight; you don't have time to sleep."

Lin Jianguo's lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something. He Yuzhu had already turned and left.

On the first night, the incandescent light in the server room cast Lin Jianguo's shadow onto the wall. He stared at the code on the screen, scrolling down line by line, his fingers typing and deleting repeatedly on the keyboard. Qian Zhiyuan ran over from the superconducting ring area, bringing two cups of strong tea, placing one beside him. Lin Jianguo didn't drink it. When the tea got cold, he got another cup, but still didn't drink it.

The fan of Starship Six was buzzing overhead, blowing the edges of the printed papers on the table up.

At three o'clock the next morning, Lin Jianguo printed out the code, piling it up on three tables pushed together. He marked each line with a red pen, the tip piercing the paper and causing a small blot of ink. Qian Zhiyuan was asleep on the table next to him, snoring intermittently. Lin Jianguo didn't wake him, but turned to page forty-seven, his finger resting on a line of code.

A function to calculate the amplitude of curvature perturbation. Variable type definition error—integer variables should be double-precision floating-point, but the programmer used single-precision. After more than ten thousand additions, the error accumulated to twelve percent.

Lin Jianguo stared at that line of code for more than ten seconds. He picked up a red pen and drew a thick line under that line, the pen tip tearing the paper.

On the evening of the third day, he changed that line of code, compiled it, and uploaded it.

In the third real-world test, the plummeting curve finally began to rise smoothly. Lin Jianguo plopped down on the server room floor, leaning against the server rack, and closed his eyes. The server rack fan blew his hair up and down. Qian Zhiyuan squatted down, took away the cold cup of tea, replaced it with a hot one, and placed it beside him.

He Yuzhu walked into the computer room, squatted down, and patted Lin Jianguo on the shoulder.

"Found it?"

"Variable type definition error. Single-precision floating-point numbers only have seven significant digits. After more than ten thousand additions, the error has accumulated to twelve percent." Lin Jianguo didn't open his eyes. "The person who wrote this line of code just graduated and lacks experience."

Where are they?

"He's sleeping in the dorm. I told him to rest first."

He Yuzhu stood up. "He wrote the wrong code, and it took you three days to find it. It's your own fault; go back and write a self-criticism."

Lin Jianguo opened his eyes, paused for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes."

He Yuzhu walked out of the server room. In the corridor, He Nianhua leaned against the wall, his backpack strap askew, holding a book in his hand, but his eyes weren't on the words. He stared at the control room at the end of the corridor, as if waiting for something.

"How did you get in? Outsiders aren't allowed in the launch site."

He Nianhua stuffed the book into her schoolbag and stood up. "I came in with Uncle Yang. He said he wanted to see you."

"Finished watching? Let's go back."

He Nianhua didn't move. He pulled his backpack straps up over his shoulders and stood up straighter.

"Dad, I want to come aboard the ship with you."

He Yuzhu didn't answer immediately. He turned around, his back to his son, and looked at the closed control room door at the end of the corridor.

"You're still young."

"I'm not young anymore. You went to the battlefield when you were sixteen."

He Yuzhu's shoulder twitched. He slowly turned around and looked into his son's eyes. There was stubbornness in those eyes, but also fear—not fear of getting on the ship, but fear of being rejected.

"The Kunlun is not a battlefield. It's a research vessel. But the route it's flying is more dangerous than any battlefield. The warp drive is still being tested, the anti-gravity system has just stabilized, and nobody knows if the ecological cycle can last that long. If you go up there, you'll only cause trouble."

He Nianhua lowered his head and kicked the base of the wall with his toe, leaving a white mark.

"I just want to see space."

"You'll see. But not now." He Yuzhu reached out and straightened the crooked strap of his son's backpack. "When you pass the astronaut exam, I'll personally send you onto the spacecraft. I mean it."

He Nianhua's lips trembled slightly, preventing his tears from falling. He nodded, turned, and walked away. After taking four or five steps, his backpack strap slipped down again. He bent down to pick it up, didn't look back, quickened his pace, and disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

He Yuzhu stood in the corridor, looking at the corner. The fluorescent lights hummed, illuminating the ground with a white glow.

He turned and walked towards the control room. Pushing open the door, he found Lin Jianguo already seated at the console, the screen displaying a smooth and stable curvature-driven test curve. A red alarm light was flashing beside it.

"What is that?"

Lin Jianguo turned his head and glanced at the red light. "The thermal control of the quantum communication repeater hasn't been solved yet. Huang Shichang said the temperature exceeded the limit in the vacuum simulation tank."

He Yuzhu walked to the screen and glanced at the repeater's temperature data. "How long will it take him to fix it?"

He said thirty days would be enough.

"Not enough. Give him twenty days. The Kunlun can't go into space with a hot repeater."

Lin Jianguo wrote it down in his notebook.

He Yuzhu stood in front of the control panel, staring at the smooth curve. The sound of He Nianhua's footsteps had long since faded from the corridor behind him.