Chapter Forty-Six: Skyward Model One

This initial ignition test did not last very long, nor did it involve any actual flight.

Barely ten minutes after rising a dozen meters off the ground, it was brought down under Li Qingsong's control, and the engines were shut down.

Immediately afterward, the clones stationed nearby swarmed forward like a swarm of bees, using all sorts of tools to tear it apart piece by piece, beginning a thorough inspection of how every component that made up the craft had changed during the process.

The engine and propulsion systems were given the highest priority.

Li Qingsong soon saw that, despite only operating for a little over ten minutes, the high temperatures and pressures had already induced some unexpected alterations in the components of the engine and the thrusters.

"This won't do. We still need to continue adjusting and optimizing."

A simple instruction like "optimize and adjust," when translated into reality, represented an immensely complex, multi-disciplinary comprehensive project.

Back on Earth, such a task would be impossible to accomplish without tens of thousands of people working busily for a year or two.

Here on Luoshen Star, however, the situation was entirely different.

At this moment, the total population under Li Qingsong's command had reached 1.4 million, while the number of conscious connections had increased to 600,000. Concurrently, the number of clones working within the scientific research bases—completely freed from other duties and entirely dedicated to advancing technology—had risen to 300,000.

Half of a civilization's population consisting of researchers: what kind of concept was that?

Compared to human civilization, whose population had grown to tens of billions, even if every single researcher was counted—including undergraduate science and engineering students still in university—the entire civilization's total research personnel numbered only around 600 million, accounting for a mere 6%.

Yet, that 6% of researchers had propelled human civilization to an extremely high level, even granting them the capability to launch a spaceship carrying Li Qingsong to Luoshen Star at the edge of the solar system for scientific exploration.

Right now, the research power commanded by Li Qingsong was far beyond a mere 50% proportion.

Not only did these 300,000 research clones possess comprehensive knowledge across all disciplines, but they also incurred zero communication costs among themselves. They operated twenty-four hours a day, year-round, without rest or internal friction, pouring all their energy into scientific research.

Roughly speaking, a single research clone of his was estimated to be equivalent to twenty human scientists.

Altogether, this was the equivalent of six million high-quality human research scholars conducting scientific investigations simultaneously!

At this moment, approximately 50,000 research clones—roughly equivalent to one million human scientists—were dedicated to the task of optimizing and adjusting the aircraft.

Consequently, merely three days later, a new optimization plan was born. Five days after that, a brand-new prototype aircraft had been constructed.

This time, it flew to an altitude of hundreds of meters, traveled several kilometers, and stayed aloft for half an hour.

Then came further optimization and adjustment. Through repeated iterations, six months later, a finalized, mass-producible model of the aircraft was finally built.

"Ignition!"

At the command, within the still hemispherical-shaped aircraft, the liquid methane and liquid oxygen stored in the fuel tanks were released into the combustion chamber under the control of an automated chip.

The electric ignition device sparked them to life, and they immediately burst into violent combustion. Their volume expanded rapidly, while temperature and pressure soared.

Guided through specially designed propulsion nozzles, these high-temperature, high-pressure gases were directed toward the underside of the aircraft, expelling outward from the bottom.

Thus, the aircraft slowly lifted off the ground.

Once airborne, the gas jetting from the bottom diminished and was redirected to shoot out from the rear. The spacecraft then began to move, flying faster and higher.

Because Luoshen Star lacked an atmosphere, making it impossible to rely on aerodynamic lift to maintain altitude, continuous downward thrust had to be maintained; otherwise, the craft would plummet.

The processes of downward thrust for altitude maintenance and rearward thrust for velocity control were entirely adjusted by automated chips, leaving the clones only needing to input the corresponding commands.

Flying on Luoshen Star had another distinct advantage: the complete absence of air resistance. Once accelerated to a sufficient speed, the craft only needed to maintain its altitude, allowing it to continue flying purely on inertia.

This saved a massive proportion of the fuel.

The first finalized spacecraft manufactured by Li Qingsong flew in a complete circle around Luoshen Star at a blistering speed of 2,000 kilometers per hour over the course of several hours, before executing a sharp deceleration and hovering once again above the testing grounds.

Thrusting violently against the exhaust vents below, it descended at a controlled, steady pace and landed smoothly.

Following yet another comprehensive inspection to confirm that everything met expectations, Li Qingsong immediately issued his next command.

Mass production!

Over the years, Li Qingsong had constantly been plagued by the issue of sluggish cargo transit speeds.

Bulk goods that did not require speed, such as ores, could slowly make their way along railway lines.

However, small, specialized cargo—such as a base urgently needing specific components, chip factories rolling out advanced microchips for widespread deployment, or a base in desperate need of fresh clones for reinforcement—traveling at the slow pace of a freight train had become utterly intolerable.

Now, this spacecraft, designated by Li Qingsong as the "Sky-Soarer Type I," had been finalized for mass production, perfectly filling this logistical gap and further elevating the comprehensive productivity of the entire base cluster.

"It's just a pity that, at the current stage, the Sky-Soarer Type I can only operate within Luoshen Star's near-surface airspace and cannot yet enter outer space. It can't truly be considered a real spaceship."

Li Qingsong felt a slight trace of regret in his heart: "Still, it doesn't matter.

After all, here on Luoshen Star, airplanes and spaceships are essentially the same thing. During mass production and subsequent scaled utilization, the shortcomings of the Sky-Soarer Type I will continue to reveal themselves, and I can optimize them accordingly.

Once optimized to a certain degree and performance is sufficiently enhanced, its top speed will naturally break through 830 meters per second, exceeding Luoshen Star's first cosmic velocity and entering orbital flight."

At the present stage, the top speed of the Sky-Soarer Type I was 2,000 kilometers per hour, roughly 550 meters per second—still a significant distance from the 830 meters per second threshold.

Of course, even if it reached that speed, it would only be able to orbit Luoshen Star. To break free from its gravitational field and enter deep space, a velocity of approximately 1.2 kilometers per second—equivalent to 4,320 kilometers per hour—would be required.

With the finalization of the Sky-Soarer Type I, the spacecraft industrial base, which had been constructed in advance but left idle without production assignments, finally welcomed its definitive specifications and production standards.

Tens of thousands of clones immediately poured into the production lines. Following a series of calibrations and adjustments, the manufacturing lines finally roared to life at full capacity.

Before long, the skies above Luoshen Star began to witness numerous Sky-Soarer Type I spacecraft roaring across the firmament, trailing long plumes of exhaust flames behind them.