2024-09-30
With that, Cooper turned back to the display before them, seeming unwilling to continue the topic. Andre and Anton did the same, and Neptune now loomed larger on the screen.
They saw spiderweb-like structures over Neptune. Cooper made a hand gesture to magnify the image. To their surprise, they realized those were man-made structures. Neptune's orbit is scattered with a few man-made constructions. Even from afar, you can vaguely see docking ports and spiky launch terminals reaching toward Neptune's surface. Traces of factories at the edge reveal its enormous size. Imagine the hustle and bustle when this base was in full swing. Andre could almost see countless mining ships shuttling between Neptune's surface and the base. Now, though, it's all deserted—dark and quiet, soaked in bluish light, giving off a sense of aged melancholy.
"This is...?" Andre frowned.
"Esteemed President," Cooper, catching his look, courteously said, "You're currently viewing the mining ruins left by the Neptune Minerals 2,000 years ago."
Neptune Minerals? Hearing this familiar yet strange name, Andre's heart skipped a beat. After pondering briefly, he realized what Yue Wenfeng had planned.
So this is what's left from Neptune Minerals? Anyone familiar with human space exploration history would know about Neptune Minerals.
As humanity constructed the Lagrange Stargates and dove into the cosmos, most did so as enterprises and Consortiums. Neptune Minerals was behind many of them; it's the root of numerous space factions today, even linked to the former royal family of the Sacrum Chu Imperium.
But most people don't know much about Neptune Minerals. Standing before Neptune Minerals' "ruins," Andre felt a genuine sense of history wash over him.
This is the legendary Neptune Minerals, the birthplace of numerous space factions today; it's no longer a cold term shrouded in historical fog but a living history.
The fleet accelerated, and more ruins came into view. Against Neptune's blue surface, they looked incredibly frail, as if they might tumble into the abyss any second.
Cooper asked, "Sir, would you like a closer look?"
Andre nodded.
Cooper reached out his left hand, revealing a holographic projector on his wrist. A panel then appeared, and after a few taps, he glanced at Andre and Anton, "Ready to check out these ruins up close?"
"Absolutely!" Anton exclaimed.
With a slight grin, Cooper tapped a button on the holographic panel.
In the next moment, the familiar cabin around Andre and Anton vanished, and they were standing in the chilly vastness of space. Yet, the warmth and humidity they felt hinted that it was an immersive holographic projection.
Andre gazed down to find Neptune's blue sphere beneath him, its hazy twilight zone creeping forward. Near the twilight zone, imposing steel structures solemnly suspended in orbit around Neptune.
Cooper's voice sounded in their ears, "Neptune Minerals' predecessor was the Uranus Development Foundation. It was a subsidiary formed to exploit Neptune's resources. They started building these in the 29th century and kept developing the Neptune system for 400 years. Uranus Development Foundation intended to make the Neptune and Uranus systems the most important human colonies in the outer Solar System, but history doesn't always go as planned. The discovery of the Lagrange Network changed everything and directly led to the dissolution of the Uranus Development Foundation."
Not knowing what Cooper did, they suddenly plunged toward Neptune, and the small ruins expanded into massive giants before their eyes. Andre and Anton were awestruck by the aged steel constructions. In ancient times, material science wasn't as advanced, so metal was heavily used for strengthening buildings, making everything look big and clunky. Yet, this very look created a unique brutalist aesthetic of that era.
Cooper guided them through the ruins, navigating between giant steel structures, with Neptune's dim blue light hardly reaching the shadows. Looking at the cables dangling down to Neptune, they were a bit confused. Cooper told them that those "cables" were actually collection devices. The mining ships themselves don't go into Neptune's atmosphere; that's way too risky. When they needed to collect resources, the ships would leave the orbital base, approach Neptune, and skim the upper atmosphere. Collectors at the cable tips would penetrate the atmosphere to extract hydrogen, helium, methane, and more. By today's standards, this mining method is inefficient and clumsy.
Cooper seemed to know what they were thinking. "At that time, our ancestors had only recently acquired the technology of controlled nuclear fusion. At first, people believed they had overcome the energy crisis that plagued them for centuries; nothing could hold them back now. But all the scientists totally underestimated how much energy people would need. Once controlled nuclear fusion came around, our energy consumption shot up exponentially in mere decades. (Andre and Anton could imagine—as if someone who's been broke forever suddenly had mountains of gold.) Initially, everyone extracted hydrogen from the ocean, but then..." He gave a wry smile, "People soon realized there's no free lunch. Even with controlled nuclear fusion, we hadn't solved basic issues like cooling, pollution, resource allocation, and so on. It didn't take long before overusing controlled nuclear fusion resulted in severe environmental issues. The UN government decided to ban the extraction of hydrogen from the oceans. But since we were hooked on controlled nuclear fusion and needed tons of hydrogen, humans began rapidly developing gas planets, massively advancing our push into outer space."
Cooper took a moment before adding thoughtfully, "There were historians who believed that if we had a more advanced controlled nuclear fusion technology, humans might not have rushed into space, and Earth might've always been our home."
"That seems different from the history I know," Anton remarked after pausing. "Humanity left Earth and the Solar System step by step as we made new technological advances."
"Anton, that's your first lesson—history can be brutal," Andre said, patting him. "But I must say, I disagree with that historian. I believe we'd have ventured into space regardless, even if we had controlled nuclear fusion tech workable on Earth from day one."
"Yes, absolutely." Cooper said, "The Uranus Development Foundation started on Earth as an investment company specializing in space mining—there were plenty like it back then. Of course, back then, it was but a small company with just a modest mining fleet. With space elevators built and unmanned drones exploring the asteroid belt, Uranus Development Foundation was the first to set foot there—and they succeeded. This bold move made them stand out, quickly becoming a major space mining giant. When more and more companies began harvesting asteroid belt resources, they moved on to planning for the gas planets in the outer Solar System. The foundation built the first collector around Jupiter's orbit, extracting hydrogen from Jupiter for the first time. But they didn't focus solely on Jupiter; they moved further out. Later, the Earth government back then noticed the risk from these consortiums and began pouring money into developing the outer Solar System. At that time, the Earth government invested in another, weaker mining firm to develop Jupiter and together built the first relativistic space community using static warp technology." He paused and went on, "That enterprise worked on Jupiter and its satellites, and it eventually became the Jupiter Industries we know. Some experts say the foundation gave up on Jupiter and Saturn due to pressure from the Earth government. Others believe their move to the outer Solar System is related to the Chekhov War."
Andre nodded to himself. The Chekhov War, of course—the first genuine interstellar war in human history.
Once we had controlled nuclear fusion power, humanity started heading into space on a grand scale. In the beginning, Earth was our mother planet, feeding us technologies and materials. However, as people established themselves on the Moon, Mars, and the asteroid belt, their dependence on Earth dwindled, sometimes even outpacing it, and began feeding resources back home. Plus, as more businesses went space-bound, a circular economy among the Moon, Mars, and asteroid belt emerged. With economic stability came political ambitions. Once conflicts piled up, war was inevitable.
Looking back, the Chekhov War seems minuscule, but given the technology at the time, it was unprecedented. After that war, Earth reasserted its authority in the inner Solar System, and the fledgling coalition of Moon, Mars, and asteroid belt collapsed. It was because of the Chekhov War that the Earth government ramped up the construction of the Dawn Ring.
After the Chekhov War, many organizations and factions unwilling to submit to the Earth government started expanding into the outer Solar System. The foundation was one of them. They gave up on Jupiter and Saturn, moved over to Uranus, built mining sites on its satellites, and kicked off major projects there. It was then they changed their name to the Uranus Development Foundation. The name shows they planned to base themselves on Uranus."
"For the next hundred years, the Uranus Development Foundation rooted itself there, setting up its own base and community. During this time, they patched things up with Earth. Together, they built a Uranus community and industrial zone that could house 200 million people."
"At this point, they had evolved beyond a mining firm, growing into a leading Solar System corporation via investments and acquisitions. Their in-house research team mastered the leading space warping technology of the time. Uranus Development Foundation then expanded to Neptune, setting up the Neptune Minerals, and they established a science and space institute on Pluto. Moreover, they funded Earth's deep-space exploration project. (Remark: first unmanned exploration project to Proxima, Luyten 726-8, and Barnard.) Even though their relations with Earth improved, the Chekhov War's impact was deep, and the scars between them couldn't be healed. On one hand, Earth's government wanted to control all Solar System enterprises and factions; on the other, those who had been long-established kept pushing for political power. Having left Jupiter behind, Uranus Development Foundation's desire to expand was unmatched, yet they realized that conquering space was wishful thinking, even with warp drive.
"Indeed, the starry sea is broader than anyone can imagine." Andre agreed. For some reason, he suddenly remembered when the first manned exploration ship to Proxima set sail in the early 32nd century. Looking back, it was practically a suicide mission. Historically, only humanity's first moon landing in the ancient 20th century could match such a daring act.
According to records, the first moon landing took three days to travel under 0.4 GM, using super basic computers—not even as powerful as today's simplest kids' toys.
One historian once commented: "Three people stuffed into a cramped metal capsule, barely able to move in their bloated spacesuits, aiming for the Moon—just as naive as primitives trying to sail the Pacific in a tiny boat."
But he might also know that Polynesians ventured across the Pacific in simple canoes from China's southeast coast, spreading far and wide.
"So," Cooper interrupted his thoughts, "they were always pushing for better warp drives. Sure, many were attempting to make warp drives that could go faster back then."
With a grin, he said, "Now, we can see why. Actually, warp drives appeared in Earth's science fiction long before they were real. Those stories had warp drives that were at least twice as fast as light; the best ones could reach billions of times light speed. However, the reality was harsh. Warp drives only reached a tenth of light speed—amazing, yet not fast enough.
People back then were sure they'd create warp drives that truly broke the light-speed barrier. Many government-funded labs and corporate R&D departments worked on next-generation warp drives. Their approach was similar: keep increasing energy density to break through deeper space barriers. Some physicists warned that we barely grasped space-time's nature, and such recklessness was risky.
More scientists urged the government to ban ground experiments, arguing that since warp drives were essentially space warping, testing deep in Earth's gravity well—a place with significant curvature—was risky. An unknown disaster could trap Earth in warped space.
Now we see they were partially right, even if they missed the bigger picture. Eventually, the government took their advice and banned further warp experiments on Earth. Turns out, these fears weren't baseless. Soon after, a space lab near Mars had an accident."
"I'm aware of that accident," Andre remarked as the fleet sailed past Neptune, exiting its dark zone. From Neptune, thirty times farther from the Sun than Earth, the Sun is just a pale dot, with faint light tracing a curve along Neptune's edge. As the ships subtly vibrated, they veered off, using Neptune's slingshot effect to exit its gravity well, then kicked on warp drives to the City of Dawn. "That accident was the first warp-induced disaster in human history, correct?"
"Yes, sir. Didn't realize you were well-versed in that history," Cooper replied politely.
"No, that's about all I know," Andre smiled gently. "I am just aware of the accident, not the specifics."
The accident happened at a high-energy warp laboratory under the Earth government's CaelumTerra Sol Space Expansion Group," Cooper continued. "The experiment caused a warp disturbance that wiped out Deimos entirely and killed hundreds of people." Fortunately, the warp disturbance died quickly and didn't spread to the entire Solar System. Scientists used data collected from accidents to perform calculations and simulations, from which a data model was drawn. Based on this model, they derived a theoretical maximum energy density limit. Simply put, as long as experiments don't exceed that limit, disasters can be avoided. But if we go over it, we might trigger warp disasters or, even worse—vacuum decay. So, the Earth government enacted a law banning any space experiments near Earth, especially high-energy warp tests in the asteroid belt. They wanted all experiments reported to them and watched over by the WRC (Remark: An agency affiliated with the Earth government)."
"But the Uranus Development Foundation clearly wasn't going to be pushed around by the Earth government, so they set up the Pluto Space Science and Engineering Institute to conduct high-energy warp tests on Pluto." However, the Earth government's intel network picked up on this fast, almost triggering a political crisis and calling off the Uranus Community project. In the end, the Uranus Development Foundation caved in and agreed to let the Earth Warp Experiment Committee step in and supervise. Little did anyone know, this was all just a clever distraction from the foundation. The actual research space stations for warp tests were scattered in secret hideaways, one of which was set up between the L2 Lagrange Node of Uranus and Umbriel.
"Ah!" Anton exclaimed, "Wait, is that the Lagrange space station where they found the first abnormal space resonance?!"
Andre was hit with a rush of historical waves—everyone knows it's the start of history, but not everyone knows the nitty-gritty details.
"That's right," Cooper said, sighing a bit, "In 3099, the research space station at the L2 Lagrange Node between Uranus and Umbriel found abnormal space resonance during a high-energy warp experiment. At that time, almost no one realized it was a new starting point. The discovery of space resonance was a milestone for humanity, comparable to when early humans discovered fire two million years ago. Finding the abnormal space resonance kicked off a seven-century journey for humanity to learn how to navigate the Lagrange Network to the starry sea. The Uranus Development Foundation wanted to keep things under wraps, but somehow, the news leaked out, sparking a frenzy of space resonance research in human society. And in the midst of all this hype, the Uranus Development Foundation completely fell apart."
"The Neptune Minerals and Pluto and Pluto Space Research Institute became independent, and the Lagrange space research station's status soared, making it a separate research entity. Funds and tech support flowed into the Lagrange Institute from both the Neptune Minerals and the Terran Sphere government. With the Lagrange Institute leading the charge, humanity finally started a real study of those abnormal space resonance points. It took seven centuries of exploration, countless failures, and sacrifices, but humanity finally built the first pair of two-way Stargates in the Solar System and Proxima, known as L001A and L001B. As humanity moved into the Lagrange Era, the Solar System wasn't as prosperous as it once was. During the war, the Terran Sphere government preserved all these space development ruins as part of human history. But we're about to activate the warp drive, so we won't hang around the Uranus system. If you want to visit the Lagrange Memorial, you'll need to look for another opportunity."
"Of course! I'm sure there will be a chance," said Anton.
"Exactly," Cooper said with a smile, "We hope many more people can witness these important historical sites."
"By the way, please look over there." Right when the fleet was about to start its warp drive, Cooper pointed in the direction of the Sun.
Located in Neptune's orbit, roughly 30 AU from the Sun. From here, the Sun looks like a tiny, bright dot, but it's still the brightest star in the night sky. Despite the distance, the sunlight keeps Neptune's atmosphere aglow. Since Neptune takes 164.8 standard years to orbit, the Sun creeps along Neptune's sky—it's so slow you can hardly spot it moving with the naked eye.
"That's the Sun." Anton shrugged, saying, "I've seen it last time."
"Nope, I'm not showing you the Sun," Cooper said, lifting a finger to the porthole. It responded by highlighting a red arrow following Cooper's finger, "Look here."
They both traced the arrow to a spot that appeared to be just another patch of space. But when they looked closely, they noticed a tiny, faint dot that blended in like just another bit of dust in the vastness.
"What's that?" asked Anton.
Cooper smiled mysteriously. Just as he was about to speak, Andre interrupted him.
"That's Earth—the faint blue dot that belongs to all of humanity, our home sweet home."
Cooper looked at Andre, a bit shocked, "I didn't realize the president was aware of that picture."
With his hands behind his back, Andre stared at the little blue dot, a smile on his face, lost in his thoughts.