CAT Chapter 24: Lost In Space (6)

 After saying this, they fell silent.

Ling Yi sat beside Tang Ning, hugging his knees as he watched him play a blank-faced game of rock-paper-scissors with Vivian.

He thought of Bethy, whose smile often masked moments of despondence, and Svenya, whose patience had worn thinner over the past three years.

—For the first time, he clearly realized that most people aboard this spaceship were quietly miserable.

He finally noticed the faint melancholy that lingered in the air of the Voyager like a haze.

Even though they had landed, spent immense effort building an impressive city, and the colonel had just told him yesterday that the marshal had decided to unfreeze a large number of people to bring the city to life…

He looked toward the starlit sea at the end of the corridor. Swirling nebulae, large and small, and the Crab Claw Nebula spread across the sparkling stars, breathtakingly beautiful.

Lin Si was also gazing at the starry sea.

Moments ago, he and Zheng Shu had finalized the blueprint revisions and planned to apply for materials from Zone 2 tomorrow for mass production. After leaving Zone 5, he intended to return to his room but paused by the porthole.

The day-after-day beauty of the starry sea might tire some, but one thing never changed—the vast, silent expanse always made one feel their own insignificance.

Lin Si stared into the depths of the stars.

That was Earth’s direction.

Memories, like parasites clinging to bone, surfaced in every moment of silence, vivid whether painful or joyful.

“Senior Lin rarely cooks,” said a female student with sandy blond hair, her expression eager with anticipation.

Lin Si set a plate of desserts in front of her, smiling. “If you’re willing to visit my place, you can have them every day.”

“Adelaide is so lucky,” she said, examining a slice of cake under the light.

“But now, many ingredients are unavailable.” A blond male student nearby sighed. “I read a report from the environmental department. We only have 5% of arable land left for crops.”

“If you’re interested, we could work on a crop gene improvement project together,” Lin Si suggested.

“That’s actually a great idea, Senior. Do you have a clear direction?” the female student asked, intrigued.

At that moment, the tea room door opened, and an older female scholar wearing a white coat entered. Hearing their conversation, she smiled warmly and kindly. “Lin Si has always loved genetic research.”

She was of mixed heritage, with straight black Asian hair and bright blue eyes. Though age had lined her face, her kindness and wisdom gave her a timeless youthfulness.

The students in the room greeted her eagerly, “Teacher! Teacher Ye Selin!”

Teacher Ye Selin sat on a small sofa and began exchanging ideas with her students—their relationship was exceptionally harmonious, and every student deeply respected her.

Each had their research focus, and Teacher Ye Selin always provided the most insightful feedback and suggestions. When the formal discussions ended, she turned into a caring mother figure, asking about their daily lives.

“Lin Si, it’s been half a month since you returned. How was Berlin?”

Lin Si replied, “It was wonderful.”

His junior teased, “Senior Lin was born for that place. I bet he didn’t want to come back at all.”

“Berlin’s Elberson Laboratory has always specialized in animal genetics and even touched on human genetics. It aligns perfectly with Lin Si’s interests,” Ye Selin nodded.

“I still prefer being with you, Teacher,” Lin Si smiled. “But I plan to return there next semester.”

That was… before the Berlin virus outbreak.

Back then, despite scarce resources, hope remained abundant. By their teacher’s side, they were brimming with enthusiasm, doing everything they could to make the world better—and never worried about taking the wrong path, for their learned and wise teacher always guided them.

What came after…

Lin Si silently watched the resplendent ocean of stars outside the porthole, growing dizzy after a few minutes.

The stars and nebulae clustered together, twisting and folding into a mass. Their luminous gold shifted, darkening to a deep crimson.

Then came the cries for help.

Thousands, tens of thousands, converging into a deafening tide.

“Save us—”

Lin Si stared blankly at the blood-red sea churning outside the porthole.

The recent stress was overwhelming—this was just a hallucination.

Yet it felt too real. He could even smell the metallic tang of blood as chunks of flesh, skin, and cartilage churned in the crimson waves, swallowing his vision. The decayed tissues clogged his airways, making it nearly impossible to breathe, asphyxiating him.

This wasn’t the first time.

There was once a period when these scenes played endlessly in his mind, circling and entwining him day and night. He had sunk countless times into the unimaginable guilt buried beneath the endless sea of blood behind him.

Later, after taking in Ling Yi, there was one time the little guy was so frightened by his condition that he sought treatment from Adelaide. The hallucinations gradually stopped appearing, but now, they were back again.

—It must be the recent pressure, compounded by the ship’s somber atmosphere.

Lin Si took a few shallow breaths, his vision dimming as his chest tightened and his head throbbed unbearably.

Every inch of his exposed skin felt the sticky touch of thick blood, and his entire body stiffened uncontrollably, trembling faintly.

“Lin Si!” A bright, youthful voice suddenly rang out, as if coming from a great distance, completely out of place in this suffocating sea of blood.

Someone shook him, and the illusion before him blurred, splitting into layers before slowly fading away. Eventually, Ling Yi’s faint silhouette emerged.

The little guy had probably grown tired of waiting and came to find him here.

Even in his dazed state, Lin Si had only one thought: The little kitten has grown so tall.

He leaned forward, resting against Ling Yi, regulating his breathing and trying to regain clarity.

When his vision finally cleared and he saw those slightly reddened eyes—both angry and worried—he couldn’t help but reach out and ruffle Ling Yi’s hair.

Ling Yi, for reasons unknown, seemed upset again. Seeing that Lin Si was recovering, he shot him a glare, stomped back to his room, and slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

Watching his retreating figure, Lin Si, though weak, couldn’t stop a faint smile from forming at the corners of his lips.

It wasn’t long before the door that had been slammed shut reopened.

Ling Yi peeked out halfway, meeting Lin Si’s gaze before quickly shifting his eyes elsewhere.

His expression was unmistakably saying, Aren’t you coming back already?

Lin Si walked toward the room. Seeing him approach, Ling Yi finally retreated fully inside.

According to the records, subtracting the time he’d spent in cryostasis, Ling Yi would turn eighteen in less than a month.

Lin Si thought, there were some things it was about time for him to know.

And others that would have to wait.

That unfinished conversation in the tearoom surfaced in his memories again.

“You’re finally back, but unfortunately, Xiao LingLing followed my husband to the military base a few days ago,” Ye Selin said. “You’ve kept missing each other—can you believe you two haven’t met yet? He’s been wanting to see you for so long.”

“I remember you’ve mentioned it quite a few times,” he replied.

Ye Selin’s smile was radiant. “That’s my little treasure, Lin. I guarantee you’ll adore him.”

At that time, he smiled and said, “One day, we’ll meet.”