CAT Chapter 1: At the Heart of the Vortex (1)

“Wizard-daren, you’re as amazing as the rumors say.”

“Lin, you couldn’t attend in time due to your heavy schedule, but it’s still important to give a speech to everyone at this grand celebration feast — as an abridgement of all our work over the years.” The blonde French female assistant winked, “Go on, dear.” 

She stepped aside and sat down as the image showed a scene from the banquet hall in Zone 1. At the round table, people flocked around a madam dressed as a black scholar, who was eyeing Lin Si projected across the screen. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam Chen.” Lin Si’s voice was cold but not impolite. After a brief greeting, he got straight to the point, “As of yesterday, 96 experimental subjects formally passed the monitoring period and were transferred to the military. The “Limitless” Phase II project was launched five years ago and has now been successfully completed. In the official evaluation conducted four days ago, all the test subjects achieved the foundational modifications of tripling muscle strength and quintupling neural reaction speeds, as well as individualized enhancements based on their unique focus areas, with stable results.”

The people seated had applauded in unison. The original researchers were pleased with the successful outcome of these past five years, while the invited guests were filled with admiration. 

“Lin, I’ve heard your plans don’t end here,” said the woman in the center, referred to as “Madam Chen,” with a smile.

“The structure of the human body cannot sustain modifications beyond triple muscle strength, but there is still room for improvement in reflex speed. In this process, we’ve even glimpsed the possibility of enhancing brain functions.” His tone was cool and calm, with none of the provocative cadence that would incite people. But this almost mechanical monotony only added to his credibility—just as people always trust machine calculations over intuitive predictions.

“The military’s excessive conservatism has led to a bias against human enhancement projects, making the experiments exceedingly difficult to conduct. Unfortunately, Marshal Sius recently officially rejected the proposal for Phase III. However, I firmly believe that the next phase has ample justification to proceed and can bring us—”

A sudden “zzzz—” of static electricity interrupted him.

The image projected in front of the people distorted several times before it finally broke. The sound came to a screeching halt as the ground shook violently. 

Lin Si grabbed the edge of the console to stabilize himself as a shrill alarm sounded in the halls of Zone 6, followed by the female voice of the system: “Zone 6 is disengaging from the main body, Zone 6 is disengaging from the main body…” 

He swiftly activated the independent operating system for Zone 6. “Lucia, reconnect to the main body.”

“Error, command cannot be executed.”

While quickly adjusting the parameters, he asked, “Error details?”

“Command conflict. Clearance level insufficient to enforce.”

Lin Si’s speech quickened. “Disengagement order details.” 

The reading had finished in a tenth of a second. “Command issued by: Zone Three United Front Department, Marshal Sius. Reason for issuance: The spacecraft is entering the event horizon ¹ of a massive Type B-II black hole. To escape requires 12 times the speed of light to warp, exceeding engine output limits. Zone 6 has been ejected to provide Level Three recoil force.”

With a booming sound, the level of turbulence throughout Zone 6 had rapidly increased. The ear-splitting alarm interspersed with the sound of laboratory equipment racks toppling over and hundreds of glass test tubes falling to the ground. 

Lin Si firmly gripped the console as he shut his eyes hard and quickly opened them, trying to overcome the dizziness caused by the gravity disorder’s turbulence. His voice was as steady as possible so that the system could clearly distinguish his command, “Switch to an independent navigation system, calculate angular momentum.” 

The progress bar lit up once again. 

At the same time, Lin Si had noticed a sharp scorching pain on his body. He quickly pulled open the emergency drawer under the console and deployed his anti-radiation protection equipment—— After detaching from the main body and losing the protection of the Van Graff Field the ship was exposed to the intense black hole radiation. 

Once he had finished, he felt a surge in his bloodstream, an overwhelming nausea, and his vision blurred with chaotic colors. Unable to control his body, he was flung against the hard wall by the centrifugal force from the rapid spinning.

Struggling to breathe, Lin Si tasted blood at the back of his throat. He raised his head, his vision still blurry. Outside the porthole, the scenery shifted rapidly as the massive shadow of the main ship grew smaller and more distant, finally disappearing into a sea of stars. 

——The next moment, the sea of stars also disappeared without a trace, leaving only complete darkness outside the window. 

The turbulence still persisted, as he completely lost consciousness. 

Lin Si was awakened—not gently, but by someone pinching him.

Amid chaotic cries of “Lin! Doctor Lin!”, someone pinched the acupoint below his nose, while another pressed down on his chest.

He opened his eyes and found himself lying on a dissection table.

Several young people in white coats lit up with excitement when they saw him wake up.

“He’s awake! He’s awake!”

Their tone was as enthusiastic as if they were announcing the birth of a baby.

“Cardiopulmonary resuscitation is only used in cases of cardiac arrest. I don’t believe that was my condition. Also, who taught you that pinching the philtrum is a first aid method?” Lin Si’s expression remained impassive. “I suspect you’ve been away from Earth for so long that you’ve forgotten the most basic biological knowledge.”

One of the young researchers scratched his head awkwardly. “…Doctor, the emergency medical robot malfunctioned, so we had no choice but to use manual methods. See? It worked.”

Lin Si was assisted to sit up. He still felt dizzy, but he was in a much better condition than before he had passed out. The youngsters before him were either researchers or assistants in several other laboratories. Almost everyone in Zone 6 went to Zone 1 for the celebration feast today,  leaving only inexperienced juniors to watch over projects that couldn’t yet be fully handled by AI.

The lab Lin Si worked in, Lab One, was located at the edge of Zone 6 and had been greatly affected by the spinning detachment. The others were evidently in slightly better condition, at least they did not faint like him.

The ship was in an unusually smooth state at this moment. Lin Si looked over the porthole—— It was so empty and pitch-black that people couldn’t distinguish if they were still moving. 

He pressed his temple, looked at the five kids in their early twenties in front of him, and asked, “Are there any others?” 

“We’ve checked—no one else is here,” one of them replied, then asked in turn, “Doctor, was this a navigation accident? The operating system has failed too.”

“I switched the system to ‘Lucia.’ You don’t have clearance for it yet.” Lin Si said, “Hello, Lucia.”

“Hello, Wizard,” a robotic female voice replied.

“Report the situation.”

“Generating data. Please wait.”

One of the kid’s eyes lit up. “The legendary Lucia! Is this that super intelligent system that Zone 5 has been working on?” 

Lin Si nodded. “It’s her. She was finally downloaded into Zone 6 a few days ago for testing by Tang Ning. This isn’t a navigation accident—we’ve been jettisoned into the interior of a black hole’s event horizon to provide recoil force for the Voyager’s main body.”

The kids were surprised. “But we’re still alive.” 

Another mimicked flapping wings and joked, “Theoretically, the probability of survival after entering a black hole is 0%. So we’re already dead, right? We’ve become quantum states?”

Their chatter gradually helped Lin Si’s head clear. He had a hypothesis and instructed Lucia, “Run a simulation based on Einstein’s equations².”

Lucia began to process two instructions in parallel. 

Lin Si stepped off the dissecting table and looked around at the mess in the hall. 

The laboratory full of experimental liquid containers were shattered and had flowed all over the floor, with a lot of tissue remnants floating around. 

“The other labs were also heavily damaged, and many precious samples brought from Earth are now irretrievable,” one youth lamented, looking dejected. “What a pity.”

Another patted his shoulder. “At least the 3D backups aren’t broken, but they’re useless anyway since we’re doomed.”

The inside and outside of a black hole’s event horizon were completely separate worlds. Within the event horizon, the warping of space time was so extreme that escape velocity far exceeded the speed of light. Nothing, not even light itself, could escape once inside. The ship would, theoretically, be stretched, torn, and destroyed by the bizarre physical properties of the singularity.

Lin Si sat in the armchair before the console, interlacing his fingers as he examined the data with narrowed eyes.

He asked, “Do any of you know anything about basic physics?” 

The kid who just spoke raised his hand. “I studied biomechanics.” 

Lin Si’s lips curved slightly. “Everyone here has studied biomechanics.” 

Zone 6 was the biochemical zone. Clearly, their understanding of physics was woefully limited—probably no more advanced than a college-level physics course.

Compared with them, Lin Si felt that he could probably be considered a physicist. 

Reviewing Lucia’s calculations, he concluded, “We’ve entered a peculiar rotating black hole, which is why we weren’t immediately obliterated from existence. If we can maintain navigation, there’s a very slim chance we could exit through a white hole. The ship’s energy supply could sustain navigation for at least a year. Don’t lose heart so quickly.”

The Voyager was an enormous spacecraft divided into nine sections, named Zones One through Nine. Zones One, Two, and Three formed the core regions at the center, surrounded by the other sections. Each zone was a standalone ship, equipped with curvature engines capable of independent interstellar travel.

Jettisoning sections wasn’t new. In previous crises during spacefaring missions, the Voyager had already abandoned Zones Four and Seven to escape danger. Now, it was Zone Six’s turn. Zone Six housed Lin Si’s Limitless project and was one of the least populated areas on the ship.

It’s the zone with the least number of people, yes—but it’s absolutely not the suitable zone to be ejected. 

Someone should already be talking about this. 

“Zone 6 has the least living people and the most robots. Although in this way, the loss of personnel is the least, our zone has so many precious research results. Losing us is simply the loss of the whole existing science. It’s extremely stupid.” 

“Interstellar travel’s first rule is to ensure human survival. It’s understandable,” Lin Si said, raising an eyebrow. “Though Zone 6 has always been a thorn in Marshal Sius’s side, we must still do everything possible to return to him and Madam Chen.”

After a moment of thought, Lin Si marked several locations on the star map. “After escaping the black hole, the Voyager will likely enter subspace travel. Following the flight plan, it should exit subspace near the asteroid TN-III33876-87624 in the Cetus constellation, where it will hover for at least a month in an observable state. If we manage to escape the black hole, we’ll immediately enter subspace at maximum warpimg speed and head for TN-III to rendezvous with the Voyager.”

The children praised Lin Si. “Wizard-daren, you’re as amazing as the rumors say.” 

Lin Si, “…..” 

Wizard was his nickname —— ever since one of his genetic modification experiments had made edible fish grow two succulent legs. 

Pressing a hand to his temple, Lin Si instructed Lucia, “Calculate survival probability.”

Lucia, a superintelligent system with knowledge and computational power exceeding everyone else’s combined, modeled Lin Si’s plan. Unfortunately, its success rate was below three percent.

Expressionless, Lin Si issued the command, “Execute immediately,” and began adjusting the ship’s energy distribution, reducing oxygen production, gravity, and temperature control settings.

The young ones huddled in fear. One of them asked, “Wizard-daren, will we have enough energy to fly to Cetus?” 

Lin Si’s fingers tapped on the console table once and said, “Seth, I suggest you go and request a set of physics courses from Lucia now.” 

Lucia’s voice chimed in. “Zone 6 has the capability to harness energy from white hole ejections.”

The children heaved a collective sigh of relief and began chattering energetically again.

Lin Si turned to them. “Before we escape the black hole, we need to conserve as much energy as possible. I expect you to serve a purpose beyond… hmm, being emergency rations.”

——The chatter instantly ceased.

Seth asked cautiously, “What do you mean by ‘beyond emergency rations’?”

Lin Si’s gaze fell on the sleek, silver-rimmed glasses on the table. He picked them up and put them on.

One child eagerly offered, “Doctor, our lab’s latest medical device can correct nearsightedness in half an hour.”

“Doctor, our lab’s tissue repair technology—”

Lucia interjected coolly, “According to a personality analysis, the glasses are a symbolic object that makes Dr. Lin feel more composed and focused.”

Lin Si swiveled his chair to face them, his faint smile returning. “Beyond emergency rations… you could, for example, try to please me.”

He was handsome, with pale, thin lips. When unsmiling, his demeanor was cold and detached, yet his faintly wicked smile was perfectly calibrated—equal parts cultured and predatory.

The kids were horrified.

They exchanged a look shared only by victims of academic exploitation, deeply concerned about their virtue.

Crossing his arms, Lin Si cast a chilly glance at the chaotic floor, silently signaling them to clean up the mess.

Relieved of their “virtue crisis,” the children exhaled and diligently began tidying the lab.

“Almost everything’s non-viable,” one of them muttered, using tweezers to pick up various grotesque tissue fragments and examine them under a microscope. “Some are abnormally proliferating.”

“It mutated.” Lin, while adjusting to maintain the navigational parameters, said. “The radiation at the edge of the black hole is too strong to obtain a reference value. They’re useless—dispose of them all.”

The kid responded and regretfully said, “what a pity” then began to work quietly and methodically. 

A while after, a sound suddenly echoed. “Uhm… Did you guys hear anything?” 

“Huh?” 

“Nope.” 

They all fell silent, holding their breath. The lab grew deathly quiet, save for the faint, incessant hum of the AI’s cooling systems under heavy computational load.

“Knock, knock.”

A faint sound broke the silence, distant and deep, sending a chill through the air.

Lin Si closed his eyes, listening for a moment, then frowned and stood up, walking toward one side of the lab.

The others followed closely. The closer they got to the wall, the clearer the sound became.

“Knock, knock.”

“Knock, knock.”

It was rhythmic tapping, unnervingly distinct in the stillness, chilling them to the core.

“D-Doctor,” one child stammered in fear, “what’s on the other side?”

A piercing alarm suddenly blared, shattering the silence. The mechanical female voice spoke rapidly, “Alert, alert. Anomalous life signal detected. Source: Biochemical Storage Hall One, Compartment 97. Threat Level: Extreme. Extreme. Extreme.”