CAT Chapter 19: Lost In Space (1)

That day, hundreds of silver mini shuttles flew out from the main body of the Voyager, circling the planet’s atmosphere.

Orders streamed continuously from the Deep Space Command, directing the shuttles to form an almost perfect circle according to their assigned formation.

Each silver shuttle carried a substantial amount of “Dome” liquid.

When people first heard of the “Dome” and its purpose, many assumed it was a solid material, but the truth was quite the opposite.

Its numerous functions were impossible for solid materials to achieve—such as filtration, oxygen absorption, biochemical reactions, self-repair, and regeneration.

The base was situated in a basin near the Arctic in the planet’s northern hemisphere. Although it was still scorching here, the conditions were significantly better than at the equator, with slightly higher water vapor content. Most importantly, the encircling mountains in the basin greatly reduced the intensity of sandstorms.

The shuttles took their positions as the Voyager’s main body slowly descended into the lower atmosphere. With a resonant hum, a force field activated, halting the wind and sand across the area. Upon receiving the “Start” command from Deep Space Command, the shuttles activated their specialized jet devices, releasing streams of pale green liquid vertically downward onto the prepared foundation. The shuttles moved, their paths intertwining.

From a distance, the shuttles appeared to be weaving ribbons of pale green silk, crossing and overlapping in a mesmerizing pattern.

When the “Dome” liquid encountered others of its kind, it immediately fused together like droplets of mercury merging into one. After a series of coordinated operations, the jets were deactivated, revealing a woven lattice of liquid that displayed astonishing physical properties. The liquid rapidly extended, filling gaps, and its surface tension transformed it into a thin, semi-spherical film—a flawless dome, faintly green and iridescent, shimmering like a soap bubble under the starlight.

A second round of spraying followed, thickening the structure.

This process was repeated six times in total, eventually stabilizing the protective membrane at a thickness of 0.4 meters. Gradually, it solidified into a jelly-like, resilient semi-solid with remarkable elasticity.

After several days of filtration, the air inside the protective membrane would become suitable for human habitation. The membrane could also withstand sandstorm attacks—absorbing sand particles and depositing them at the base, where robots would periodically clear them away.

The first human-made structure appeared on this desolate planet. Though modest in size, with a diameter of just ten kilometers, and insignificant compared to Earth’s cities, it was undeniably a miracle. Over time, with a growing population, more such bases would emerge, safeguarding humanity as they thrived and multiplied.

At this moment, all the military pilots aboard the shuttles and those watching from the Voyager could not help but cheer.

The Voyager’s colossal body continued its descent until it hovered 1,000 meters above the ground, its massive black hull blocking the harsh starlight.

The shuttles transformed into landing ships, cutting entrances into the “Dome” and unloading supplies from Zone 2. The vessels detached from the main body and entered the base.

A distant hum resonated as a faint blue light flickered across the sky.

This was the Voyager initiating microwave power transmission to the base.

The nuclear fusion reactor produced a continuous supply of energy, converted into electricity and transmitted across the base in the form of microwaves. This enabled all machinery equipped with microwave receivers to operate without needing direct power connections or recharging.

The construction of humanity’s first base had begun.

With great joy, people affectionately named the star “Sun.” The term evoked a sense of hope because if the sun could rise every day, then a hopeful tomorrow would always follow.

Since Lin Si had taken Ling Yi to watch a sunrise through the porthole, the little one had developed the habit of waiting for the sun to rise every day.

At night, the dark brown sky would gradually turn grayish-yellow, and then a bright wisp of light would appear on the horizon, outlining the clouds. Finally, the light would break through the thick yellow clouds and rise into the sky. The air would suddenly become clear and bright, illuminating the crimson mountains and rocks, making them gleam.

—And all of it would be captured in a pair of beautiful black eyes.

For nearly three years, he had watched this same scene.

“Ling, let’s go.”

Svenya leaned against the Dome’s wall, arms crossed, looking at Ling Yi.

For someone like her—already mature and in the prime of her life—three years might not seem like much. She was still beautiful, spirited, and full of charm.

Ling Yi, however, was different.

While adults resist the passage of time, children chase after it. Time, as it takes beauty away from the old, bestows it upon the young. If this notion held true, then Ling Yi seemed to have received a special favor from time.

His features had fully developed, retaining their striking beauty while gaining a boyish vigor. His long black hair no longer cascaded over his shoulders as it had when he was a child. Instead, it was neatly tied back, with a few strands falling over his forehead, giving him a playful, youthful air—especially when the corners of his thin lips curved up in a mischievous smile.

Seeing that faint smile, Svenya couldn’t help but smile herself. “Baobei, what’s so funny?”

Ling Yi gazed at the magnificent dawn through the “Dome.” The golden sunlight was refracted by the pale green barrier, intertwining with it. The reflection of the clouds swirled within the semi-fluid dome, creating a breathtaking and grand sight of golden and green interwoven hues.

Ling Yi said, “Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

“I’ve seen enough of it.” Svenya kicked a stone on the ground with her military boots. “Today is just another patrol—life is this dull, and you’re the only one still so enthusiastic.”

She shrugged. “You don’t look like the child Lin Si would raise.”

Ling Yi tilted his head. “What kind of child should he have raised?”

“The Wizard’s little demon? Like this.” Svenya tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stepped forward, her face blank. Her right hand dropped to her sidearm, drawing it in one fluid motion. She raised the gun, muzzle angled downward, and leveled it at Ling Yi. Her eyes were cold, empty, as she tilted her head stiffly—a perfect imitation of menace.

Ling Yi smiled. “Seems pretty cool, actually.”

Svenya lowered the weapon, her icy facade melting into a bright, genuine smile. “There we go. You really do seem like a kid who’s been spoiled rotten—only someone like that could love the world this much.”

Ling Yi blinked. “But that’s how I was raised.”

Svenya didn’t believe him. She pouted, reattaching the sidearm to her waist with a practiced motion. “Let’s go.”

Ling Yi reached for the black military cap resting nearby and settled it on his head.

Over the past three years, he had grown taller, his frame slender yet striking. His features were sharp, but it was his eyes that caught attention—soft and tender, their shape and gaze lending him the air of a young lover stepping out of a summer dream, walking toward some unseen girl.

The military uniform he wore was predominantly black, accented with silver at the brim, collar, and cuffs. Its narrow sleeves and cinched waist emphasized his build, while the long boots and the silver sail insignia on his chest evoked a ship cutting through endless seas. Even though the Voyager had long since docked at this red harbor, the emblem remained untouched. No one had ever proposed changing it.

He and Svenya walked toward a gray steel city, a gift from the iron-rich planet. Builders here had never worried about shortages, using steel liberally, even for the city’s core structures.

Dawn lingered at the horizon. The city sprawled in jagged clusters, windows flickering like drowsy fireflies in the half-light. Silence draped itself over steel and alloy—a desolation softened only by the hum of distant generators.

The first batch of revived frozen bodies still consisted of excellent scientists. Compared to the era of space travel, where most research focused on physics, mathematics, and biology, the surface now had many outstanding geologists and geographers. They worked every day to study the planet’s structure, improve the harsh environment, and had little time for leisure.

As Svenya had said, life was simple—neither good nor bad. Routine patrols, daily training, and with few residents, security was never a concern. Even in the most peaceful cities on Earth, the police still dealt with petty thieves, but here, that was not a problem. Supplies were organized by Zone 2, and the carefully calculated amounts were enough to meet everyone’s needs. There was no currency, no difference between poverty and wealth.

This Russian female officer was now utterly bored, her gaze scanning the dawn-lit city, sighing softly.

Ling Yi, on the other hand, showed no sign of negativity or gloom. He looked carefully at every corner of the city, greeting passing gentlemen or ladies.

“Good morning, Mrs. Casalan.”

“Good morning, my little angel.” The lady responded warmly.

Ling Yi furrowed his brows, a hint of childlike annoyance in his expression. “I’m about to turn eighteen, Mrs. Casalan, not a little angel anymore.”

Mrs. Casalan laughed, happily replying, “You’ll always be our precious baby.”

Then she asked, “How’s Lin doing? I haven’t seen him in ages.”

The simplicity of life often made people eager to talk and converse. After her question, she continued, “Ling, you probably don’t know, but Lin’s teacher, Ye Selin, is my best friend. If you see him, please send him my regards as an elder.”

“Sure, Mrs. Casalan.” Ling Yi agreed, then added, “Lin Si is working on a mechanical exoskeleton project aboard the Voyager. He won’t be back on the surface for a while, but I’ll tell you when he arrives.”

Mrs. Casalan praised Ling Yi for being so likable before walking away.

“Youth without worries… hm, how enviable,” Svenya lazily turned to look at Ling Yi. If there were dogtail grass growing by the roadside, she would have pulled it out and put it in her mouth out of boredom.

“I have my worries, too.” Ling Yi’s bright and clear eyes now held a faint melancholy.

“Tell me about it.” Svenya asked with interest.

Ling Yi turned back, gazing down the path they had come from, where the rising sun was just peeking over the horizon, and the faint outline of the Voyager was visible in the clouds beside it.

Svenya realized that from this angle, one could say that Ling Yi was enjoying the sunrise every day, but it could also be said he was gazing at the Voyager.

“I miss Lin Si…” Ling Yi lowered his eyes, his voice soft and a little nasal, as though on the verge of tears.

His thick eyelashes trembled slightly, and anyone who saw him would be unable to resist wanting to kiss him softly, to comfort his sadness.

“Alright,” Svenya shrugged. “A little cat in love with its master.”