Abolish the Special Aviation Tax

Chapter 19: Cancellation of the Special Aviation Tax

One o'clock in the afternoon.

At his desk, eighty-year-old Professor Wang Zhong was reading a red-headed official document.

As he delved deeper into the text, his mood began to sour bit by bit.

<Notice Regarding the Cancellation of the Special Aviation Tax>

"The Special Aviation Construction Tax will be officially abolished as of December 31, 2264. This is hereby announced..."

"It was bound to happen eventually."

The Special Aviation Tax was a form of support provided by the United Government for the Deep Space Project. Every participating nation paid this tax annually.

Now, this tax was being scrapped.

Professor Wang Zhong let out a long sigh, his brow furrowing like deep ravines as he sank into thought.

In this era, thanks to advancements in medical technology—particularly the advent of 3D biological organ printing—the average human lifespan had reached one hundred and ten years, with the healthy even capable of living to one hundred and forty. However, at eighty, he was still getting on in years, and the decline in his energy made Wang Zhong feel somewhat inadequate when it came to scientific research.

Yet, as an academician of the Academy of Sciences, no matter how much he aged, his intellect remained far superior to the average person.

He was a man who couldn't sit still; since he was older, it was good to put his remaining heat to use. Mentoring a few master's students wasn't much of a problem, and he could handle some administrative work on the side.

As a scientific advisor to the Deep Space Foundation, he had endless tasks to attend to every day.

The more he read this newly issued document, the more discouraged he felt.

Time waits for no man. If he were twenty or thirty years younger, he would have certainly argued his case at the meeting. Even if such a dispute wouldn't have much effect...

Wang Zhong made a phone call, trying his best to keep his tone gentle: "...Don't they know? If the Earth Era wants to accelerate to seven-thousandths of the speed of light, it still requires the support of the Jupiter Base!"

"Building an ultra-long-distance optical path costs a fortune!"

A middle-aged male voice came from the other end of the line: "Professor Wang, tax cuts are the trend of the times; it's not something a few of us can stop. This resolution has been under study for a long time; it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. Chairman Lin of the Foundation has also already..."

Wang Zhong said unwillingly: "If the cruising speed doesn't reach seven-thousandths of the speed of light, do you know the consequences? It's a 3,000-year journey; any variable will trigger a domino effect of chain reactions..."

"Professor Wang, we are looking for ways. Rest assured, even if we have to sell off a large amount of assets, we will scrape together the money."

Wang Zhong hung up the phone and sighed again.

True enough, to politicians, the Earth Era had already been built, so this tax levied on the people naturally had to be abolished. To be fair, this surtax had been collected for over forty years, and the public had long been complaining about it.

But...

Where the follow-up funding would come from remained a major problem.

Although the Deep Space Foundation was wealthy and owned a vast array of industries, it could not withstand such a massive capital requirement without the financial support of the United Government. Selling off assets was not a wise choice; dumping them on the capital market would only benefit the corporate sharks. The market was a place where people were slaughtered without a drop of blood being shed; the more desperate they were to sell, the lower the prices those sharks would offer.

Furthermore, the goal of their Deep Space Foundation wasn't just to launch one colony ship, but ten, twenty, or even a hundred. These assets were their foundation!

Just then, the office door knocked softly a few times.

"Come in!" Wang Zhong pulled his thoughts back and said.

A young woman walked in; it was his student, Xu Yunjing.

The girl said softly: "Teacher, there are a few reporters outside who want to interview you. They are a group of foreigners. Do you know them?"

"Foreigners?"

"It seems to be the Humanities Association... they want us to donate to impoverished regions."

"Don't accept. Just tell them I'm not here!"

As soon as money was involved, Wang Zhong's eyebrows shot up, and his voice grew louder: "You don't need a brain to figure out what they're here for! Although our Foundation has many industries, our money didn't fall from the sky; it was created by all the scientists!"

"...Don't ever bother with those kinds of reporters again, especially foreign ones. They love to dig a hole for you to jump into. If you accidentally say one wrong word, they'll make a huge fuss and report all sorts of nonsense!"

Xu Yunjing looked dejected. It was clear that her mentor was in a very bad mood.

The Xia Kingdom was an exporter of energy, and domestic electricity cost three cents per kilowatt-hour, which could be considered a form of social welfare.

But the electricity sold abroad was a different story. The labor of the people of the Xia Kingdom could not be sold cheaply; this electricity had to be profitable.

According to the initial investment contributions for nuclear fusion research, some countries paid eight cents per kilowatt-hour, while others paid thirty cents.

Either way, take it or leave it.

The reason was simply the high monopoly on the controlled nuclear fusion project. This project, with its immense difficulty, integrated almost the most cutting-edge technology of humanity, and it wasn't something every country could just snap their fingers and achieve.

Xu Yunjing thought for a moment and then asked sheepishly: "Teacher, won't it look bad if we don't accept the interview?"

"Look bad? To hell with how it looks! Will they starve to death without electricity? Is electricity at thirty cents a kilowatt-hour really that expensive? It's human rights in name, but it's clearly just wanting cheap electricity!"

Wang Zhong scolded irritably: "...They didn't contribute much during the research phase, so why should they want to pick the peaches now?"

"This is a matter of national interest!"

"If they want cheaper electricity, they should send representatives to negotiate with the government, not sneak around here trying to launch a public opinion offensive to win the sympathy of our people!"

Wang Zhong knew well that saying too much leads to mistakes, so he couldn't be bothered to bicker with those reporters, instead taking the opportunity to teach his student to have "political sensitivity."

No matter what issue one is dealing with, one must have emotional intelligence.

"Especially for a young woman, don't let a 'saintly' complex lead you to be generous with other people's money!"

Xu Yunjing was lectured for a bit, so she stopped dwelling on the matter. She then said with a hint of awkwardness, "Oh, and... the son of our senior brother would like to pay you a visit. Do you have any time?"

"Senior brother? Which senior brother?"

"It's that... Senior Brother Zhang!" Xu Yunjing gestured with her hands.

Wang Zhong was stunned for a moment, but he quickly realized who she meant. His expression softened, and a trace of gentleness flickered across his face.

Zhang Qiming, his most brilliant student, the lead developer of the Earth Era control system. All of his students, whether doctoral or master's candidates, referred to Zhang Qiming as "Senior Brother."

As for... his son?

It seemed he hadn't heard of him.

Well, it wasn't that he hadn't heard of him, but he had long since forgotten. Everyone knows Einstein, but few people care to remember Einstein's son.

Recalling that Zhang Qiming had already passed away, and the scene of a white-haired man burying his own child, Wang Zhong sighed, "Sigh, bring his son over."