65 million years ago, Venus
Three years after the Superlight Wave Power Station on Saturn caused the moon Sedna to shatter, a massive ball of ice, nearly a million kilometers in diameter and centered on Saturn, orbited the sun, slowly approaching the region where Regulus and the sun aligned.
Jupiter orbited faster than Saturn. It caught up from behind, and a spectacular celestial event not seen in a thousand years was about to occur: Regulus, Jupiter, Saturn, and the sun—the four bodies whose alignment most strongly blocked Superluminal waves and thus had the greatest impact on solar activity—would line up.
Could the obstruction of Superluminal waves by coplanar stars and gas giants really affect solar activity such as sunspots and flares? After years of observation and repeated verification, Venusian scientists were convinced that it could.
Did Superluminal waves really exist—waves with extremely high speeds, incredibly long wavelengths, and the ability to carry enormous amounts of energy? The Superlight Wave Power Stations on Venus's Tower Island and on Sedna were the best proof. And of course, they were real.
A planet's gravity depended on how strongly it displaced energy. As long as the energy density in its surroundings remained unchanged, its orbital and rotational motions remained stable.
If a planet in the stable structure of the Solar System—Saturn, for example—suddenly grew much larger, encased in a gigantic ball of ice, and drastically changed how it blocked Superluminal waves, would the orbital and rotational speeds of the other planets change too?
The Venusian scientists didn't know.
Nikola Tesla's theory of gravity held that such a change would inevitably have an effect. Saturn's giant ball of ice was like a lens, focusing the Superluminal waves diffracted around it onto Jupiter.
Jupiter would absorb more energy from the Superluminal waves, upsetting its energy balance and triggering stronger internal nuclear reactions. Its energy output would increase, making its acceleration toward the sun greater. Its orbital speed would rise, its orbit would tighten, and it would gradually draw closer to the sun.
Even if Nikola Tesla's theory of gravity was correct, would this four-body alignment have a direct and significant impact on Venus?
As Saturn and Jupiter gradually aligned with Regulus, the effect that Venusian scientists—including Tesla himself—least wanted to see began to unfold.
Observations revealed that almost every day, a newly formed sunspot appeared on the side of the sun facing Venus. No such phenomenon had been observed for Mercury, Earth, or Mars.
Dean Abbott pointed to the sunspot observations from the past month and asked Tesla:
"Nikola, our observations show that only the obstruction caused by gas giants can induce large new sunspots. Venus itself couldn't have such a major effect. So why are these new sunspots always facing Venus?"
Nikola Tesla connected his external brain through a Lightning Ball. A moment later, he had the answer. Looking dejected, he said to Abbott:
"It's a simple matter of geometry, and somehow we all overlooked it. The ratio of Saturn's distance from the sun to Venus's distance from the sun happens to equal the ratio of the Superluminal wave's wavelength to Venus's diameter. Saturn's giant ball of ice acts like a huge lens, and Venus happens to be at its focal point."
Abbott grasped the principle at once and exclaimed, "The Superluminal waves diffract around Saturn's lens and are completely blocked at Venus's focal point, creating an energy void at the corresponding position on the sun. That explains why these enormous sunspots are always facing Venus."
Dean Abbott was a meticulous scientist. For decades, in his efforts to verify Nikola Tesla's Superluminal Wave Theory, he had become intimately familiar with the relationships between the planets and solar activity, as well as seemingly strange correlated events. He recalled an unusual phenomenon they had observed before and asked:
"Large sunspots produce powerful flares. If the solar wind they emit is aimed at Venus or Earth, it can slow their rotation."
Nikola Tesla looked at his learned and perceptive old friend and said helplessly:
"With these new sunspots constantly facing Venus, the energy Venus displaces will drop sharply, causing its rotation to slow down abruptly."
On the Venus where Nikola Tesla lived, a day lasted about 24 hours, almost the same as on Earth and Mars.
Venus had a population of about six billion. Forty percent of its people had religious beliefs, while 99 percent believed in science—or at least in the common sense they had learned through experience.
That common sense had been shattered. A day was no longer 24 hours, and the interval between sunrise and sunset kept growing longer.
The changes in Venus's terrain caused by the Tower Island power station—uplifted plateaus, receding seas, polluted air, and food shortages—had sparked widespread panic among the Venusians.
But most people didn't think the situation was all that serious. At least, there was no urgent need to flee Venus. What truly terrified them was that every day was getting longer.
To maintain social stability, the Venus Alliance government had downplayed the crises facing Venus as much as possible. But this time was different. Everyone could feel Venus's rotation slowing down.
The temperature difference between day and night began to grow. The days were hot, the nights cold. Panic spread from person to person, and more and more people had to admit that it was time to consider leaving Venus.
Little Cynthia's mother, Vinu, had broken no Venusian laws and had not been exiled. She had willingly accompanied the exiled clone Little Cynthia to Earth. Last month, she returned to her fishing village on Venus to visit her husband, Brahma.
As Venus's rotation slowed and the temperature difference between day and night grew, freezing winds howled in the early hours of the morning, and the temperature outside fell to more than 40 degrees below zero. Vinu urged her husband to leave Venus with her and go to Earth, where they could be with Little Cynthia.
The couple packed their belongings and made their way to the spacecraft launch site. The spacious, cavernous hall was packed with people. Shouts rang out from the crowd: Mars, Earth, anywhere—just get us off Venus as soon as possible!
Vinu was told that the passenger spacecraft she was supposed to take between Venus and Earth had been urgently requisitioned by the Alliance government. All civilian flights from Venus to Earth and Mars had been canceled.
Vinu was beside herself with grief. She wasn't only worried about what would become of her and her husband; she was even more worried that Little Cynthia on Earth would be heartbroken when she couldn't see her mother. Brahma comforted his wife as he helped her push through the crowd and out of the hall.
It was late, and the long, cold night was about to begin. The couple decided to find a small inn in the city for the night and return to their fishing village the next day.
Electricity use in the city had been rationed. The streetlights were off, and it was pitch-black outside the inn's window. In their dim room, the couple huddled close together.
Vinu clung to her husband. "Darling, it's so dark. I'm scared. Hold me tight. I'm cold."
Brahma gently stroked Vinu's hair and murmured, "Darling, don't be afraid. I'm here. Darling, I'll always be with you."
Faced with such a tremendous upheaval, Vinu felt a sorrow and helplessness unlike anything she had ever known. She opened an old, low-powered computer and logged onto a well-known social platform.
The social platform was in an uproar. Some people were asking for help, others were cursing, and most were discussing how to escape Venus. Brahma leaned over too and pointed to a comment.
"Vinu, look at this. It says so-called scientists have brought this disaster down on us, that curiosity is basically greed and will eventually ruin all of us Venusians."
Vinu and her husband picked up the thread and traded remarks, venting the resentment they had bottled up inside. Thinking of Little Cynthia, so far away on Earth, Vinu felt her blood rush to her head. She had once been an accountant, and now she began typing furiously to write her own post:
Venusian Humanity's Balance Sheet
We Venusians created a glorious civilization, and now we are about to pay a terrible price for it.
We put our faith in science, discovered the laws of nature, and in doing so, satisfied our desires and curiosity to an extraordinary degree.
But in the face of nature's immense power, we humans are so insignificant—and so presumptuous.
Venus was once our beautiful home. The insatiable demand for electricity from Artificial Intelligence Large Models has opened its gaping maw and is dragging Venus into a hell from which there is no escape.
A scientist I know told me that Jupiter is moving toward the sun, and that neither Mars nor Earth is safe anymore.
Are we humans ignorant, or are we simply too eager to learn? Our discoveries have cost us Venus—and perhaps even the entire Solar System!
Isn't it said that every debit has a credit, and that assets and liabilities always balance?
As we explored and reshaped nature, we erected monument after monument to our achievements.
But what have we gained from this so-called progress without end? And what have we lost?
Does it mean that only when humanity is destroyed and the Solar System collapses
will we get a balanced balance sheet, with everything reduced to zero?
When the judgment of fate arrives, who can we turn to? Will we still believe in miracles?
&
Poem collected at the end of the chapter:
A broken sound follows the broken wind. — Zhao Gu, Tang dynasty
Four stars shine bright within the Purple Enclosure. — Su Shi, Song dynasty
Waves surge and wash across the vast cosmos. — Wang Anshi, Song dynasty
Yet I drift on blue waves, at ease with the fishing boy. — Liu Yuxi, Tang dynasty
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