Chapter IV — Welcome to Earth
The next day, bright and early, I was on the earliest shuttle en route to the City of Dawn.
Seen from Earth, the City of Dawn looks like a delicate thread that might melt away into the sky at any moment. However, as the shuttle approached the City of Dawn, the thread expanded into a ring, unveiling its majestic presence. The main structure of the City of Dawn is a 40,000-kilometer-diameter ring, the most colossal structure humans have ever created. It's said that the City of Dawn was built when humanity first entered the space era, during an era when controllable nuclear fusion gave us an almost unlimited supply of power. And then, with the warp technology, humanity broke free from gravity well, transforming the Solar System into our expansive backyard. Our ships traveled across the Solar System, visiting every planet, and some even reached into the depths of the Oort Nebula at the edge of the system.
Among asteroid belts, human mining ships created a network of mining bases, continuously transporting various minerals back to Earth. Many historians chronicle this period of abundant resources as a golden era, the dawn of the grand space exploration era, and the prelude to humanity's ascent to a stellar civilization. At that time, humans were still oblivious to the existence of Lagrange Points and had not yet opened the doors to the starry sea. Even though humans hadn't left the Solar System yet, there was a vibrant spirit of exploration and a common belief that the era of humanity in the cosmic sea was on the horizon. Therefore, the construction of the City of Dawn began. It took several centuries for this ring-shaped structure to be essentially finished, yet its development never really stopped. In the millennia that followed, engineers and architects continued to enhance the city with additional structures and details. Today, much like the Pyramids and the Great Wall that continue to stand tall on Earth, the City of Dawn has evolved into a true marvel, a symbol of eternity in the cosmos, and a testament to humanity's immense exploration spirit.
As the shuttle approached, more details of the City of Dawn's inner walls came into view. Vast stretches of steel structures filled my view, dotted here and there by green habitat beneath the transparent dome. Yet, the most eye-catching thing was the Dawn River. I saw a ribbon shimmering with glistening ripples, a grand river that traverses the entire city, stretching 120,000 kilometers—three times longer than the Earth's equator. When the City of Dawn was first completed, the Dawn River didn't exist. The river came into being after engineers mastered static warp technology, which allowed for the creation of gravitational fields. They employed this technology to adjust the microgravity modules around the city, creating a closed-loop gradient field of gravity across the ring of the City of Dawn. Countless engineering ships brought ice comets that were melted down to the water, filling the Dawn River and ultimately creating this great river that spans the entirety of the city. I heard the Tourism Bureau is now experimenting with the idea of launching a cruise project around the Dawn River. Should this project take off, tourists would be able to circle the entire Dawn River aboard a cruise ship. Personally, I think it's madness—only a lunatic would agree to spend several months aboard a ship. However, isn't it the lunatics who have always created history? Just look at the Dawn Ring, the Dawn River, and the Lagrange Stargate that dot the expanse of the cosmic sea... Each one is a testament to lunacy. Right, there's an old saying from Earth: "It's only the mad who create real history."
While I was lost in my thoughts, the shuttle touched down at the New Kenya Alpha Spaceport. No matter how many times I've gone through it, that moment of gravity inversion always makes me feel slightly dizzy and unsettled.
Resting for a bit in my seat, I eventually unbuckled my safety belt and got up, exiting the shuttle with the other passengers. I navigated through the passenger terminal easily and headed straight for the nearby short-distance rapid transit station, where I switched to a high-speed automated hover train. In just fifteen minutes, I found myself in the waiting area of the Tourist Distribution Center's first-floor lobby.
The Tourist Distribution Center in Kenya is fascinating. To make it as realistic as possible, designers built an artificial grassland, which I've always found somewhat awkward. The center itself is located at the heart of this grassland. With guests still on their way, I aimlessly grabbed a coffee from the automatic machine and looked out from the lobby's floor-to-ceiling windows. The grass outside was parched and yellow, resembling the iconic Kenyan savannas on Earth from a distance. However, compared to the real grassland on Earth, something was missing.
I hadn't been waiting long when the distinct sound of footsteps reached me from behind. Turning around, I saw a tall young man emerge from the elevator leading to the underground transit station. Correct, he had to be a tourist from the cosmic sea; his tall and slender physique was a dead giveaway. People like him, who've grown up in the low-gravity environments of space cities, tend to have slenderer bodies. The boy looked quite young, standing a full head taller than me, with a certain youthful innocence still visible on his face. Strangely enough, a quick look around confirmed he was the only person to exit the elevator.
Maybe I was mistaken. I pondered; the tourist group I was expecting likely hasn't shown up yet. Visitors from the cosmic sea, though capable of withstanding Earth's 1G gravity, can only do so for a limited time. To prepare for an Earth visit, they must partake in directed calcium treatments, muscle conditioning here in the City of Dawn, and adaptability training in different gravitational zones. They must receive clearance from a medical professional before being allowed to set foot on Earth. This is, by no means, a pointless precaution. In the thousands of years since humanity embarked on its journey across the starry sea, reports suggest that the first generation born in the starry sea encountered several physical issues due to spending their entire upbringing in low-gravity environments. Humanity slowly recognized that, though we had transitioned to life among the stars, our physical forms had not evolved to cope with reduced gravity. Therefore, an unwritten rule formed within our societies: any space habitat or station intended for prolonged human occupancy must ensure a gravitational force of at least one-third that of Earth's standard. As humanity expanded to inhabit a third of the galaxy, this rule has remained unchanged.
Overlooked a detail, didn't I? Why did I forget to ask the director yesterday about how many people were in this tour group? I was just about to reach out to the director when the tall young man walked over to me.
"Hey, are you Jason?"
"Uh?" I was surprised. What the... So, did this tour group consist of only one person? The director had made it sound like this was a very important group, insisting that I go above and beyond in hosting them, leaving me feeling a bit on edge. And now, to find out that the tour group might just be this boy still wet behind the ears? What's going on?
"Hey, are you Jason or not? Aren't you supposed to be my guide on Earth?" The boy furrowed his brows slightly, showing signs of impatience.
"Yes, that's me," I replied, mentally cursing the director for not being upfront about this "high-tier, confidential tour group." What a joke. Clearly, the boy was from some wealthy family or corporate giant, full of pride and lacking regard for others, making him one of the hardest kinds of tourists to please. What's worse, these young elites seldom leave tips. "How may I address you?"
I didn't rush to reach out my hand, knowing that such an old-fashioned gesture from Earth might not be welcomed by every traveler. The tourists come from various parts of the starry expanse, each region having been isolated long enough to evolve its distinct cultural practices. In certain star systems, people are unaccustomed to physical contact with strangers or casual acquaintances, considering such gestures to be provocative or disrespectful unless it's between those who share a deep connection.
"I am Anton," the boy replied coldly, casting a brief look toward the artificial grassland visible through the large window and asking in an icy tone, "When are we setting off?"
He's got quite the attitude, I mused silently, noting that he wasn't in the mood for more introductions. Whatever, rule number one in the tour guide's manual is: never ask too many questions. However, I couldn't help but be slightly fascinated by the boy. If my guess was right, he belonged to some corporate giant, as joining a tour group like this doesn't come cheap. And with no one else to split the bill, the cost for him would be even higher. It's obvious he's lived a comfortable life, likely having every aspect of it managed by servants. But why would such a privileged young man opt to journey to Earth by himself?
"Any others with you?" I couldn't resist asking.
"Just me, why? I supposed you to know that already?" He shot me a look that seemed to doubt my competence as a guide.
Fine, fine. I mentally rolled my eyes while shrugging my shoulders, opening my arms towards my young and rich client. "Very well, Anton. Welcome to Earth."
