Chapter 77

Chapter 77

The aurora flickered intensely.

Splash!

The shattering of glass pierced through the tranquil night. An Zhe turned his head towards the laboratory.

Boli also looked at the window. "Rum?"

Fog clung to the glass, obscuring the view inside except for vague silhouettes.

"Sir!" Rum's voice was unusually agitated. He slapped the window hard, causing it to rattle as he pulled it open. His voice, now clearer, trembled. "The screen, the screen..."

Boli abruptly glanced indoors, where the large screen still displayed the chaotic patterns as before.

But Rum said, "Just now—"

An Zhe coughed a few times and said, "I'm alright."

Assured that Boli remained coherent, he strode towards the laboratory. An Zhe silently swallowed a mouthful of blood and followed closely behind. His body was in a bizarre state, exhausted to the extreme and in immense pain, yet paradoxically, he felt numb due to reaching his limits.

Inside the laboratory, Rum had shattered a glass bottle containing antibiotic granules. Shards of glass sparkled as they scattered across the floor, but no one had the heart to clean them up at the moment.

Boli approached the large screen where the lines fluctuated like wriggling worms. He asked, "What's happening?"

Rum's lips moved as he said, "It's clear... It was clear just now."

An Zhe found it difficult to describe Boli's expression at that instant. It seemed like a jumbled mix of intense emotions had blended into an emptiness. Boli's hands trembled slightly, with his right hand resting on the control lever of the instrument. "Are you sure?"

Rum's gaze wavered, as if struggling with recollection. Under Boli's unwavering stare, he spoke after three seconds, "I'm certain."

Boli Joan gazed at the screen, with An Zhe standing steadfast behind him. The facility, once at the pinnacle of human technology dedicated to the study of artificial magnetic poles—even though it had deteriorated over time and lost much of its equipment—remained a competent, functioning physics laboratory. Amidst the hushed silence, Boli carefully tugged at the control lever, reversing the wavering lines on the display.

He asked, "Around what time period?"

Rum replied, "Just now."

He fell silent for a moment, considering his words before he replied, "Just a blink of an eye."

Boli took a deep breath, set the timer on the device back three minutes, and began to playback the footage on the small screen frame by frame.

—Those pulsating, wriggling black lines varied in intensity, some forming coherent curves while others were scattered dots like distant stars. They intertwined with one another, akin to the threads of fate. With each frame, their forms shifted, yet this transformation followed no discernible pattern. Having spent nearly two weeks in the laboratory, An Zhe had come to understand that Simpson's cage captured the frequencies of interactions between elementary particles – Boli consistently described it using the term "frequencies."

The intricacy and disarray of these frequencies surpassed the capacity of human science to comprehend. Boli endeavored to find a means to receive and decipher them, to clarify their patterns as one might transcribe a melody from hearing it, or tune a radio in search of a clear signal. For a long while, his efforts bore no fruit. Gazing at the chaotic lines, Boli once said he felt like a mortal striving to hear the divine will, or an ant attempting to decipher the language of humans.

Fixing his gaze on the still-flashing screen, An Zhe would occasionally direct his worried look towards Boli. He noticed that Rum did the same. After so many failures in this protracted experiment, if they couldn't replicate the moment Rum claimed to be "clear," he wished Boli had never received that piece of news.

One frame after another. The fire in the hearth crackled robustly, periodically popping as the wood split, a sound that echoed hauntingly in the silent laboratory.

A ghostly image abruptly materialized on the screen.

Even An Zhe held his breath involuntarily.

Against the ashen-black backdrop, all the lines vanished—replaced by countless dense, semi-transparent, and faint white dots that blended into the background. Human language was insufficient to describe the shape they formed. They seemed to have no pattern, clustering in some areas and scattering in others. The center of the image was devoid of white dots, while around it, a circle resembling the rim of a volcano had gathered. That irregular, grayish-black circle resembled an ominous and sinister eye. It was like—a magnificent nebula photograph taken during humanity's era of civilization, converted into a lifeless black and white.

"It's—it's this one," Rum said. "Is the machine malfunctioning?"

"No…" Boli shook his head slowly. Perhaps due to heightened emotions, his pupils dilated slightly. "This is the unprocessed original image. The previous lines were abstracted from it."

An Zhe pondered the statement slowly, and Rum, having served under Boli for years, considered it for a moment before suggesting, "Could it be that... the machine malfunctioned?"

"No, it's not broken," Boli shook his head. He marked a glaring red star at the exact moment the image appeared. His words came out faster than usual, revealing his excitement. "When the particle frequency suddenly changes, the analyzer can't provide results promptly, so it briefly displays the original image. This actually confirms that we were right – call Tang Lan over."

When Tang Lan pushed open the lab door, dark circles were visible beneath his eyes, indicating his obvious fatigue.

"Sir," he said. "What brings you to me?"

Boli replied, "Did you sleep? I'm sorry to wake you up."

Tang Lan shook his head. "I was already awake when Rum called me."

Boli asked, "Didn't you sleep well?"

"I was just about to come find you," Tang Lan explained. "The fluctuations suddenly intensified – for one second, I sensed a sharp noise, and then I woke up."

Boli inquired, "How about now?"

"For now, it's fine."

Boli remained silent for a considerable time, until Tang Lan inquired, "Is everything all right, sir?"

"Our approach is correct; when the fluctuations are amplified, it presents this anomaly in real-time. Such fluctuations can be captured by the Simpson cage in a manner similar to recording magnetic fields," Boli said with a grave expression.

Tang Lan furrowed his brows. "Isn't this good news?"

"No," Boli said. "I've thought of a question."

The laboratory fell silent, with only Boli's voice echoing. He shifted his gaze from the small screen frozen on a captured image to the larger one with its intricate, fluctuating lines. "We're trying to capture the frequency of the oscillations and decipher the cause of the distortion. But what if what we're witnessing right now is the battle between Earth's artificial magnetic field and some unknown cosmic waves?"

"I see what you're getting at," Tang Lan said, abruptly lifting her head. "The magnetic field can resist fluctuations, but the Simpson Cage simultaneously receives both of their frequencies. They disrupt each other."

"Yes," Boli replied. "I've been pondering, if the magnetic field can entirely shield against fluctuations, why would genetic infections still occur on Earth? It makes sense if the two are in a constant stalemate. The fluctuations continually influence our planet, yet the magnetic field resists, preventing matter from becoming utterly distorted. Their frequencies seem to be intertwined in a continuous dance."

"In that case..." Tang Lan furrowed her brows, "Sir, if you wish to use the Simpson cage to analyze the fluctuations, you will have to wait until the fluctuations overcome the magnetic field, or until the artificial magnetic poles cease to function."

"Indeed," Boli said slowly.

However, when fluctuations gain the upper hand, matter becomes distorted, and the apparatus within the Simpson Cage is also affected.

"No," Boli said. "There is a way."

All eyes turned to Boli, and the soundless laboratory echoed only with his voice. "The Highland Institute possesses several mobile, independent magnetic poles that can generate limited small-scale magnetic fields – a legacy of our past research. That's why we survived the catastrophe a month ago when the artificial pole malfunctioned."

"If the artificial magnetic field enveloping Earth were to vanish... We adjust the position of the independent magnetic poles so that they safeguard the core equipment of the Simpson Cage, while simultaneously exposing the reception area to its fullest extent..." Boli's grayish-blue eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed down at the raging sea of flames engulfing the scene below.

Tang Lan: "Then we'll be able to decipher the pure oscillation frequency."

"Indeed, indeed..." Boli took a deep breath, the spark of hope that had just flickered in his eyes suddenly dimmed: "But—"

The sentence was left hanging, and the room fell abruptly silent; not a single soul dared to utter a sound.

Eventually, Tang Lan spoke up, "Is it only when artificial magnetic fields fail... that we can perceive the fluctuations?"

He gazed out at the night sky, his voice tinged with emotion.

Boli slowly took his seat in front of the computer, facing the communication channel to the base. He remained still for a long moment.

"Mankind only sees the truth in the face of death," he murmured to himself. "Is this what God wants us to witness?"

An Zhe stood in the corner, silently observing everything that unfolded.

Boli's conjecture was logical. If the only remaining phenomenon in the world were that peculiar oscillation, the instruments might reveal its complete nature.

In fact, it was feasible. Boli was now facing the communication channel, possibly deliberating over his words. If either the Northern Base or the Underground City Base agreed to shut down their artificial magnetosphere, the truth would be laid bare before them.

But then what? What would become of the two bases without their magnetic fields? The disaster a month ago had slashed the Northern Base's population down to a mere eight thousand.

It was hard for him to fathom the struggle Boli must be facing now. This compassionate scientist had initially left the base because he couldn't bear the sight of a few sacrificing themselves for the many.

Yet, it seemed this was how the world worked, causing survivors to perish, the merciful to kill, and seekers of truth to despair.

With the screen before him, Boli slowly closed his eyes.

Tang Lan said, "I'll take care of it."