The Norgate night was wild, the wind threatening to swallow the world whole.
Sophia Shaw rubbed her aching temples. She had finally completed the preliminary simulation for the Deep Space Gate project.
The howling wind hurled sand and gravel against the reinforced glass, producing a heart-pounding sound.
Inside, however, it was as warm as spring.
Even the humidity was maintained at the most comfortable level.
She had to admit, it was the best-equipped field base she had ever stayed in.
Every detail was terrifyingly precise—from the chair, perfectly molded to her ergonomics, to the brand of coffee beans on the table, which she had only mentioned once.
Sophia couldn’t help but think of the call from Ms. Archer.
"One of President Grant’s senior assistants, a Mr. Morgan, came to see me twice. All he asked about were your preferences. He seemed very concerned about you."
"Faye, are you and he very close?"
The only person around Vincent Grant with the surname Morgan was Timothy Morgan.
Timothy Morgan was nice to her, but not to the extent that he would want to know every little detail about her life.
So...
’Did Vincent Grant send him?’
’No wonder everything in this room feels perfectly tailored to my tastes.’
Sophia Shaw walked to the window.
The glass reflected her face, with its soft, graceful lines.
A faint mist seemed to cloud her eyes.
She wanted to call Vincent Grant and tell him to stop doing all this.
But he never explicitly took credit for anything, so the call would just seem presumptuous.
’Forget it.’
She eventually reined in her emotions.
’Someone has to be the first to let go. If I never respond, he’ll eventually move on.’
Sophia Shaw returned to her workstation and threw herself back into her work.
—
The next day, at the Grant Group headquarters.
Vincent Grant had just escaped a lengthy meeting when Joel Hale followed him into the office, clutching a document.
"President Grant, regarding this supply list for Norgate, I suggest we add a batch of oxygen masks and cardiac emergency medication."
Joel Hale placed the document on the desk. It was one Vincent Grant had already signed, which Hale had clearly gone out of his way to retrieve from the logistics department.
"The environment in Norgate is harsh. I heard Ms. Shaw has a history of heart trouble. It’s always better to be safe than sorry," Joel Hale finished, standing respectfully with his hands at his sides.
Vincent Grant picked up the document again. His eyes fixated on the paper, his lips tightening into a thin line. After a moment, he said in a low voice, "Add them."
"Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it immediately." Joel Hale picked up the document and turned to leave.
"Wait." Vincent Grant looked up, his sharp gaze locking onto him. "How do you know about her old heart condition?"
Joel Hale gave an unnatural smile. "Ms. Shaw is the core of the project team. Her health is of the utmost importance, so I took the initiative to learn a bit more about it."
"Did you ask the Shaws?" Vincent’s question was flat, yet it carried an invisible pressure.
Very few people knew about this.
Joel Hale shook his head, hesitating for a moment before confessing, "Yesterday... Ms. Sherman was moving, and she asked me to help. I happened to run into her grandmother and learned she’s also Ms. Shaw’s grandmother, so I just asked a few more questions."
He carefully studied Vincent Grant’s expression. Seeing no change, he continued his report. "The separation between Zenith and our group is complete."
"Ms. Sherman has shut down most of her subsidiary businesses to focus on satellite-assisted transport in pursuit of rapid profitability."
"Zenith was always operating at a loss because she was too focused on technological superiority and neglected commercial returns. Now that she’s operating independently, she’s been forced to find a way forward."
Vincent Grant looked down at his documents, not responding. Joel Hale took the hint and fell silent. Just as he was about to leave, Vincent’s voice came from behind him.
"From now on, there’s no need to report on Zenith’s affairs."
His tone carried a powerful, oppressive weight.
A shadow passed over Joel Hale’s eyes. He quickly replied, "Yes, sir."
As he walked out, his legs felt a little weak.
—
「Norgate.」
Sophia Shaw had been there for over two months. The moment the preliminary data was ready, she entered a long video conference with Old Master Sloan.
"The simulation data shows nearly a twenty-percent improvement from last time. It’s practically perfect!" Old Master Sloan was effusive with his praise from the other side of the screen.
His expression then turned serious. "Next, we have to initiate the Star Landing project. That’s the real tough battle."
"The difficulty is immense, I agree," Sophia Shaw nodded. "But if we can successfully use the Hubble telescope for auxiliary detection, we can not only significantly reduce costs but also greatly increase reliability."
She sent a detailed report to Old Master Sloan.
As Old Master Sloan read the report, his eyes gleamed. He couldn’t help but slap the table. "Brilliant idea!"
"I’m Old Master Sloan’s student. How could I not have brilliant ideas?" Sophia’s voice held a hint of playful teasing.
Old Master Sloan scoffed, feigning disdain, but the corners of his eyes were already crinkled in a deep smile.
Sophia’s tone shifted. "However, I’ve looked into it. There are no fewer than fifty teams applying to use Hubble. By the time our turn comes, it’ll be ages. We can’t afford to wait."
The smile lines at the corners of Old Master Sloan’s eyes faded.
"That’s right."
"There’s only one Hubble. A single use can last from a few months to several years. With fifty countries in line, by the time Lead Aerospace gets its turn, we’ll probably be dust."
"But Professor, we can try to cut in line!" Sophia said, her words startling him.
"Cut in line?" Old Master Sloan gave her a look that said ’wishful thinking.’ "You think no one else is eyeing that opportunity? These are national-level teams. You try to cut in front of them, and you think they won’t tear you apart?"
"But what if we can prove our detection project has a high degree of overlap with one of theirs?"
Old Master Sloan’s gaze suddenly sharpened. "Go on!"
Sophia licked her dry lips and said, "I’ve checked all the applications. The project from the G-country team at the front of the queue has an eighty-percent overlap with ours. This means both of our teams could use Hubble simultaneously."
"If we agree to share all the data from this detection publicly, the other teams shouldn’t have any objections."
"Share the data?" Old Master Sloan’s expression grew stern. "That means you could do all this hard work just to set someone else up for success. If another team uses your data to find a way to establish a base on Mars first, we will have completely lost our advantage!"
"Losing the initial advantage isn’t what’s scary." Sophia’s gaze was calm and resolute. "The most important thing right now is to push the deep space exploration plan a tangible step forward. As long as we find the right path, everyone’s investment won’t be in vain. As for who ultimately comes out ahead, may the best team win."
Old Master Sloan looked at her deeply, moved by a vision that far exceeded her years. "You’re right. Finding the path is the key. I understand. You want to trade data sharing for international support. I’ll figure out a way to contact some scientists to co-sign and endorse you!"
"Thank you, Professor!"
"Don’t thank me just yet!" Old Master Sloan put on a stern face. "If you can’t produce results that are substantial enough, I’ll be a laughingstock."
"Don’t worry, Professor. I won’t let that happen," Sophia promised solemnly.
She knew better than anyone that if the project failed, Old Master Sloan’s reputation in the academic world would be devastated. She would not let that happen, no matter what.
Old Master Sloan maintained his stern expression, but he was pleased. After a few more words with Sophia, he cheerfully ended the video call to go contact his colleagues.
Sophia, too, had to get back to organizing her data and preparing a proposal that would be powerful enough to sway everyone.
And she had to go home to see Bun.
She hadn’t seen him in two months. Now that she had a moment of free time, the longing was overwhelming.
When she got home, Bun was playing downstairs with Ms. Archer.
The little guy could already walk, albeit unsteadily. When he saw her, he giggled and threw himself into her arms, calling out in his sweet, childish voice, "Mama."
In an instant, all of Sophia Shaw’s exhaustion melted away.
In the distance, a figure flashed past.
Though it was quick, Sophia still recognized who it was.