A tour

Rows of Solar Panels gleamed in the sunlight, their orderly expanse the perfect symbol of industrial productivity. Two flatbed vehicles carrying passengers drove past one side.

Driving one of them, Stendhal said, "This place supplies all the electricity for the base. That building over there is the Power Storage Station."

Stendhal did not know that controllable nuclear fusion was already in use. He rarely visited the robot-filled Industrial Zone anymore.

"There must be tens of thousands of these photovoltaic panels..."

"With industrial manufacturing like this, have we come to the wrong place?"

Gu Tianming said to Stendhal, "We brought quite a lot of equipment this time. Unfortunately..."

"Ah, I'm just a farmer on Orange Star now, growing my own greenhouse vegetables." Stendhal's expression turned serious.

"There's something I have to tell you. The base's food reserves will only keep thirteen people alive for a month, and even then we'll have to tighten our belts."

"We'll need to clear land for crops, and even raise poultry."

"What? We have to raise livestock?"

"And grow greenhouse vegetables?"

"But I don't know how to farm..."

The vehicles soon left the base and climbed a sand dune. Stendhal stopped his vehicle at the top.

The puzzled group glanced around and saw a huge circular crater not far below.

"It was this meteorite. Even though the original base was seven kilometers away, the force of its impact still caused devastating losses."

"I was getting ready for a survey mission at the time. Wearing my protective suit was the only reason I survived."

The meteorite crater, over a hundred meters across, lay there silently. Staring at its hundred-meter span, the group could only gape, speechless.

Had Orange Star's atmospheric pressure and density been any higher, it would have been no less destructive than an atomic bomb.

Unlike Mercury, Orange Star had no close-orbiting satellite to provide natural protection by sweeping its orbit clear, nor a dense atmosphere to burn up meteorites.

"Mr. Stendhal, does Orange Star Base currently have an autonomous defensive weapons system? Does it still have military forces?"

"As far as I know, you shouldn't have the authority to issue reconstruction orders, should you?"

He Xuan's sudden barrage of three questions led everyone toward a terrifying possibility: enormous, tireless machines and vast factories manufacturing things independently.

Was this the base system acting on its own? Was it operating under human authorization? Or had some irreversible change truly taken place within the base?

"An autonomous defensive weapons system, yes. Aircraft units and robots, yes. Authority to operate the intelligent system, no."

"Do you have any other concerns, miss?" Stendhal swept his gaze over the group. "Or are you planning to fend for yourselves in your current condition?"

Gu Tianming hurriedly said, "Mr. Stendhal, that's not what we meant!"

"Xuan, this isn't the time for research. Stay out of this and behave."

Gu Tianming glared at He Xuan. Helpless, she fell silent, but a seed had already been planted in everyone's mind. They all remained quiet, and no one raised the subject again.

What a joke. What if they angered this last remaining man?

They could skip breakfast and tough it out through lunch, but what about tomorrow? The day after?

Nighttime temperatures on Orange Star fell dozens of degrees below zero. Their protective suits also needed maintenance and replacement compressed oxygen cylinders.

Watching them in secret, Luo Qi sighed. He certainly would not give them any base permissions. The omnipresent cameras would keep an eye on them at all times.

Surveillance of Stendhal could not stop either, lest these people sway him with a few words and make him do something foolish.

Why did I rescue these people in the first place? Luo Qi continued browsing the constantly updating database, where many more projects had made fresh progress.

Annoyed by the woman's attitude, Stendhal snorted and started the vehicle.

On the way back to the base, he did not say a word. The others stayed silent too, communicating only through brief exchanges of glances.

The two vehicles entered the base's hard-paved grounds. Cameras mounted on tall buildings, surveillance poles, and machinery formed thousands of views, transmitting their signals into Luo Qi's senses.

The group gazed curiously at the boxy silver buildings.

Not far away, a flatbed trailer carrying a silver triangular aircraft happened to be rolling slowly onto the open ground.

Lin He asked, "Mr. Stendhal! Is that a fighter jet?"

"That's the Rescue Craft Dad sent to pick you up."

Stendhal answered curtly.

As the vehicles passed the glass greenhouse, its lush green plants prompted another round of exclamations.

Huang Qi asked excitedly, "Mr. Stendhal! Is this a plant cultivation chamber?"

"A plant cultivation chamber? Well, I just planted some vegetables I like eating, along with some tree seeds."

Stendhal felt a little awkward. He felt that quietly calling himself a farmer on Orange Star did not suit his status as a pioneer. It was nothing like the imposing figure standing in a command center that he had imagined.

Qi Siyu studied the external tablet mounted on his protective suit's left hand.

He spoke up. "Mr. Stern, as far as I know, nighttime temperatures on Orange Star are around minus forty degrees. Is there anything special about this greenhouse? Could more be built?"

Greenery on a barren planet, the color of life, was striking. This concerned Orange Star's future development.

"Oh, that's vacuum-insulated glass with a sealed gap between the layers. The greenhouse has built-in underfloor heating. We have plenty of energy."

Stendhal slowed the vehicle to a stop between the greenhouse and the white residential building.

"As sunlight raises the temperature, moisture rises as vapor. When it touches the cold greenhouse roof, it condenses into droplets. There are small bumps on the inner glass surface of the roof that gather the droplets and let them fall..."

Imagining the scene, everyone grew excited.

"So it's rain!"

"Now that's an eye-opener."

Stendhal said, "It wouldn't take too long to build another one this size."

Such designs were unremarkable on Water Blue Star, but on Orange Star, they were extraordinary.

The others simply found it a fascinating new sight and thought it meant they would have fresh vegetables to eat.

"This is the residential building. It's where we spend most of our time."

Stendhal looked at the people beside him. To think he had kindly prepared accommodation supplies for them.

Stendhal disliked that blunt woman. He felt her brain must have been fried. Did certain things really have to be said aloud?

Gu Tianming pointed to a nearby building. "May I ask how that differs from the other areas?"

The various signal towers atop that tall silver building made it stand out at a glance.

"That's the base's main control building."

Stendhal added, "You'll need authorization to enter any of the silver buildings."

They looked at the white residential building. Cameras were mounted on both visible corners, and black glass lined its exterior in a neat row, presumably windows.

The rectangular section projecting from it was a pressure chamber, three meters long, six meters wide, and three meters high. It too had a camera mounted on it.

That already made three cameras. Looking at the inconspicuous cameras mounted on the other buildings, they realized just how tight the base's surveillance was.

A facial recognition scanner was mounted on the door. Everyone watched Stendhal stand before it.

"High-level authorized personnel Stendhal, welcome home."

With a click, the doors slid apart. The group followed him into a brightly lit, enclosed disinfection chamber. Once the doors closed, disinfectant vapor sprayed out with a hiss, filling the room with a white haze.

One minute later, the vapor was rapidly extracted. With a clunk, the door leading into the residential building opened.

What greeted their eyes was immaculate white!

Kanawu asked, "Mr. Stendhal, do you usually do the cleaning?"

"No, I leave all that to those robots outside," Stendhal said. "They clean on their own. If you need anything, you can also speak to a camera and call Dad."

"Oh, and let me tell you in advance: every part of this place is monitored."

Someone peered at a wall, trying to spot the LEDs behind it. There was not even a speck of dust on the floor, and everything was bright and clear.

"It's like the walls themselves are glowing."