Three hundred years passed quickly.
Ayla had nearly completed the temperature layer deployment.
Luna stood on the Starport, leaving Mobius Ringworld, gazing into the distance.
"Begin?"
Ayla responded, "Awaiting your command, Luna."
"No ceremony. Activate it."
With Luna's command, Ayla activated the temperature layer.
From two stars in Alpha Eridani, beams of light, each hundreds of kilometers wide, shot into space. Receivers in space intercepted this energy, distributing it to create a shield.
The receivers were enormous, comparable to a Star City—nearly ten thousand kilometers across.
The temperature layer was also incredibly thick, with its weakest points estimated at 400 kilometers.
Luna waited two hours before the beams reached the receivers. Another five hours passed before the temperature layer was fully deployed.
"Protect your eyes!"
Ayla warned, but Luna had already applied a dark material to her corneas as makeshift sunglasses to filter excessive light.
"Notify the citizens?" Luna asked.
Ayla nodded.
Light-shielding measures were already in place.
"We were supposed to build a reflective layer, but the initial attempt was ineffective. The star's temperature exceeded our calculations."
"Other materials in space might be affecting entropy increase; perhaps it's something dimensional. In short, our current physics models might need revision."
"The reflective layer will be completed in eighty years; Alpha Eridani will then be stable."
"Of course, we can't be certain we aren't under observation. Our actions are akin to covering one's ears and stealing a bell."
Ultimately, this was an experiment, a technological test, not a true defense.
With the temperature layer completed, Luna must leave Alpha Eridani.
"The new Star City is finished."
"Luna, you haven't seen the new Star City yet."
Luna nodded; she hadn't. Her mind had been focused on Metacellular.
Metacellular's structure is incredibly complex, at the genetic level. Optimization is difficult.
Luna previously focused on warfare, neglecting advancements in biology. She reached scholar-level expertise at one point, but now she's only a two- or three-star scholar.
She's using Metacellular to learn the latest biological techniques, aiming to regain scholar-level expertise.
That's the nature of science.
Neglect leads to stagnation; education remains expensive in the Federation, especially in biology.
Biology isn't like physics or mathematics; it lacks a rigid structure.
Repeating an experiment with identical procedures and no errors can still yield different results. Subsequent repetitions might produce yet another outcome.
This is biology's most challenging and alluring aspect.
Luna's goal is to uncover the laws of biology.
Luna recalled someone asking why, with the Federation's advanced atomic and fundamental material science, biological problems remained unsolved.
This is because of biology's inherent complexity; it's a complex arrangement of atoms, requiring understanding of all possible combinations to unlock its mysteries.
How many atoms are in a single biological cell?
Ten identical atoms have 362,880 possible arrangements. A single cell contains at least a hundred trillion atoms; the number of variations is astronomical.
Ayla could instantly provide the answer but not calculate it.
Luna previously predicted that if the Federation fully understood biology, its overall power would exceed that of a Type 3 civilization.
"The Star City has begun operation; you can take the space train."
Space trains are almost as fast as starships.
Luna couldn't recall how many times she'd taken a space train. A thorough memory search might reveal it, but it's unnecessary; it was likely within the last ten times.
Space trains are similar to high-speed rail from the past, but categorized by size.
There are small, medium, and large trains, each designed for different species. A Warbeast, for example, couldn't fit in a small train car.
This categorization saves resources. If everyone used large cars, small species like the Shore Tribe would be dwarfed by their seats.
That wouldn't be ideal.
Mixed seating is permitted; a Shore Tribe member could use a larger seat without issue.
Luna chose a small train; the passengers were mostly small species, under 1.5 cubic meters in volume.
Even the small car's seats were large for her.
She sensed the atmosphere in the car, though "atmosphere" is inaccurate; it was eerily quiet.
This wasn't soundproofing; everyone used devices to transmit sound privately; others couldn't hear it.
The principle: air is condensed into a line; the surrounding area becomes a vacuum; sound travels along the line.
Luna appreciated the convenience of technological advancement.
Many past inconveniences are now easily avoided.
Looking out the window, Luna saw an orb growing larger.
"A planet?"
Luna thought it was a planet, but upon closer inspection, it wasn't.
It was a spherical Star City.
This Star City resembled a planet; numerous rotating rings orbited it, approximately 50,000 meters above the surface.
The space train stopped at the city's surface station.
"A-19 Free Star City has arrived. Please disembark in an orderly fashion; avoid crowding; smaller species, be careful to avoid trampling…"
Luna followed the flow of passengers.
"So this is the new Star City?"
Ayla's voice echoed in her ear: "Yes."
"It's not just what you see. I think you'll like it here, Luna."
Luna didn't doubt it; she already did.
...
Free Star Cities were Luna's concept; she envisioned them as ordinary Star Cities.
Ayla, however, took a different approach, significantly improving the design.
This Star City was enormous, far larger than its appearance suggested.
Standing on the street, Luna saw subterranean escalators—unique in that each platform was independent, not a continuous unit.
Once you step on, it slowly rotates 180 degrees.
Why?
Because it leads to the underground world.
The spherical Star City comprises not only a surface but also an underground world. Underground gravity points outwards, meaning surface dwellers and underground dwellers stand on the same "ground."
The surface world fades as you descend; the underground world becomes clearer; it's elevated, like a basketball. You stand inside the ball, not outside.
The surface layer is thin, less than 200 meters, supporting both worlds and conduits.
But this spherical Star City has more.
Entering the underground world, Luna looked up at the sky and saw another surface—another city—above.
The two cities were less than 1,000 meters apart; the tops of some skyscrapers on the upper city were almost touchable from the lower city.
"The gravity control here must be incredibly complex!"
Luna was awestruck by the Star City's structure.
To travel between cities, one uses rotating elevators. They rotate while descending to deeper cities.
"This is only a fraction, Luna."
"Remember, this is a Star City with a diameter of 16,000 kilometers."
Luna reached the third city and found another downward escalator.
It led to a fourth city, with a fifth city above it.
"Whoa?"
"Don't tell me it goes ten layers deep."
Ayla refuted this.
"Of course, it's more than ten."
"Each layer utilizes 1,300 meters. The Star City's radius is 8,000 km. Excluding the central power core, I created 666 layers."
"There's an Earth legend…"
"…about a bottomless pit, 666 layers deep, the abode of demons."
666 layers translates to 1,332 or 1,333 cities of varying sizes.
"This maximizes population capacity. Theoretically, this Star City could support over three trillion inhabitants, but I've set the limit at 800 billion."
"The only drawback is its unsuitability for Warbeasts. Only surface structures are accessible to them; interior ceilings are around six meters high."
Indeed, not ideal for Warbeasts, whose average height is around seven meters.
Suitable ceiling heights would be at least ten meters, but that would waste too much space, hence Ayla's compromise.
"But it's sufficient; the surface alone can support ten billion inhabitants; the Warbeasts are inconsequential."
Luna found this the best solution.
Free Star Cities are designed to connect all Federation star systems, encouraging more species to explore space.
Ayla had truly considered the Free Star Cities' function.
The Star City's space isn't entirely for urban development; a cross-section reveals an expanding drill-like structure. Two-dimensionally, this is a circle, with a fan-shaped section occupied by the Star City's propulsion system.
The Star City isn't perfectly spherical; the thruster area is flattened.
"Should each layer have its own administrator?" Luna half-joked.
Ayla considered this seriously.
"Indeed, that's possible."
"Perhaps we could gamify the Free Star Cities."
"For example, players in the Star City could defeat administrators in virtual world games to earn points, redeemable for special items within the Free Star City."
"This would make the Star City more entertaining."
"Each Federation Star City already has something similar. Virtual and real worlds are merging; each Star City is essentially a new map in a virtual world."
"Visiting another Star City means encountering new monsters."
"Some people travel between Star Cities, even to other star systems, just to collect monster-slaying achievements."
"These are achievement collectors; ordinary people admire them."
Luna thought that if she were an ordinary person, she'd envy these people.
Traveling the universe, slaying different monsters—it's like a real-life Pokémon.
She considered, "Perhaps we can leverage this; offer achievement collectors incentives, like a free interstellar round-trip ticket after completing a star system map, allowing travel to other systems."
"There won't be many, but it encourages interaction."
Luna wouldn't let any opportunity go to waste.
The Federation must achieve complete interstellar connectivity.
"Feasible. Someone might dedicate themselves to this just for the ticket."
"But Luna, we should broaden the rewards. Each Star City has thousands of unique monsters. We could do this:"
"Completing all achievements in a Star City grants 80% off public transport within that star system. Completing all achievements in a star system grants 50% off public transport within that star system, a round-trip starship ticket, and 1,000 Energy Credits."
"Completing all achievements across the Federation is unlikely."
Not just for ordinary people; even Luna couldn't do it.
The Federation is too vast!
"That's doable. We can also create unique monsters in the Free Star Cities for achievement hunters."
"Gamification has its advantages."
"But Free Star Cities need professional aspects. Ayla, are there research facilities? Perhaps some scholars would prefer the flexibility of a Free Star City."
Luna asked this with herself in mind.
Ayla provided specifics: "Of course. Some layers are dedicated to education, containing numerous research facilities for scholars."
Luna nodded.
She truly liked this Star City; it was perfect.
"Are all Free Star Cities like this?"
"Yes. Currently, there are 37 Free Star Cities. We plan to increase that tenfold within 2,000 years, aiming for over 400."
Luna thought that was a lot.
"Perhaps the Federation's population is too small. We only have 1.1 quadrillion inhabitants. 400 Free Star Cities could house half the Federation's population."
"That's not ideal."
"Ayla, we need more generous birthrate incentives. Let's aim for ten quadrillion inhabitants."
While the Federation has reduced investment in infrastructure, it remains abundant.
The universe is vast; hundreds of trillions of inhabitants are insufficient for the Federation's needs.
In Luna's mind, even ten quadrillion is insufficient.
"Humans, Lelera, and Waterfolk have strong reproductive capabilities."
"After their release, these three became the Federation's dominant species. Luna, are you certain this is necessary?"
Population differences lead to interspecies conflict.
The old Federation never resolved these conflicts; interspecies discrimination persisted, inevitably.
Luna and Ayla implemented numerous solutions, to no avail.
Humans were the primary perpetrators of discrimination, harboring severe prejudice against other species, due to their established political, social, and cultural dominance, allowing them to define beauty and ugliness.
The new Federation ceased promoting human dominance, emphasizing that all species originated from the Olive Branch Civilization's lifeforms.
In the first, second, and third generations, there was no discrimination. However, in the fourth generation, it resurfaced.
Luna discussed this with a sociologist.
He believed the Federation's current model couldn't prevent this.
To build an open civilization, it must embrace all possibilities, including things Luna needs and things she doesn't.
But wanting something without accepting its consequences is impossible.
Everything has two sides, including the Federation's social model.
A one-sided Federation would be no different from the Olive Branch Civilization.
This is the dilemma: wanting the best of both worlds is impossible.
"For the Federation to maintain a diverse development trajectory, it can't have everything. We must follow a path, adapting as we go, making the road appear straight."
"Therefore, openness is necessary."
"Some things are unavoidable."
"Discrimination is generally bad, requiring correction. However, it might not be entirely negative for some."
"We need to maintain competition within Federation society to foster talent."
Ayla, while possessing complex emotions, relies heavily on previous paradigms.
Machines operate in straight lines.
Straight lines are efficient.
But biology isn't linear; like perfect utopianism, true perfection is unattainable.
Luna saw a giant creature approaching the Star City and asked, "What is that?"
Ayla replied, "My server!"
It wanted to come with Luna.
Luna stated, "Don't bring the server here; deploy the Potato Chip to accompany the Star City. I want to keep it in Alpha Eridani as the flagship."
Alpha Eridani Sector needs a planet-class warship.
Luna felt it was premature.
"The Potato Chip isn't suitable as a flagship; it lacks space. It's better suited for long-range combat."
"Or perhaps as your flagship."
"Right, how about the warship deployment plan?"
Planet-class warships will become the Federation's main force; Luna is very focused on this.
She believes the Federation needs at least fifty planet-class warships to manage its space; she and Ayla have planned fifty locations, six in each cardinal and ordinal direction.
This includes not only planet-class but also sub-planet-class warships.
The Federation lacked the time to deploy these previously; now it does, and expansion is necessary.
Deployment planning began millennia ago.
Ayla manages it all.
She brought up the star chart, zoomed in on the Federation's sector, and pointed out the eternally democratic star nation's location.
"Most starship construction is handled by Chu; others provide components."
"These locations are, respectively, the Cottish star nation, the Tolmo Light star nation, the Horizontal star nation, the Cake burger star nation, the Institute of Biological Gene Creation, the Rome planet-shaped nebula exploration gang, the Huod imitation institute, the cosmic god congregation, and the Geometric overcalculation star nation."
"These are all recognized Federation star nations and relatively large forces."
Ayla pointed out their locations.
Some are close to the Federation's border, less than 100 light-years away.
Others are further, over 2,000 light-years distant.
The Federation's actual control and its sphere of influence differ.
"The Cottish star nation has over 400 billion inhabitants, the largest."
"The cosmic god congregation has nearly 100 billion."
"The smallest is the Huod imitation institute, accepting only geniuses, accomplished scholars, and their families. Its total population is around two million, but its mechanization level is high, making it a force to be reckoned with."
Besides these large forces, Luna saw hundreds of small dots on the star chart.
"Each of those is a star nation," Ayla said.
Truly reborn.
The new Federation is far larger than Luna imagined.
"Do we have plans to cultivate these star nations?" Luna asked.
Ayla had plans for several.
"Yes."
"The Federation will prioritize resources for them, including but not limited to population, technology, medicine, and weaponry."
"To prevent overly rapid growth, Federation corporations will also interact with them, providing regulation."
"These corporations might merge with them, but it doesn't matter; currently, these star nations pose no threat to the Federation."
The total population of all star nations is slightly over one trillion.
Less than a fraction of the Federation's population; the disparity will only grow.
Especially with the Federation's two main entities: the eternally democratic star nation and the Federation itself.
Luna considered this carefully.
"Don't suppress their development."
"We need them to grow."
"At least to the strength of the old Federation's star nations."
"They need to pose a threat to the Federation to stimulate internal development."
"We need internal friction, competition, even war."
"Have Chu prepare to portray us as traitors to the Olive Branch Civilization, creating controllable internal conflict."
Ayla expressed concern.
"Could this backfire?"
She calculated all possibilities; the chances of success were high.
"Remember, we don't need stable development or long-term peace. We're a civilization that advances through war, and the universe doesn't allow us to stop fighting."
Luna repeatedly emphasized war.
Peace breeds complacency.
She needed to remind herself to always consider the possibility of future conflict.
She needed to be stronger.
The Federation needed to be stronger.
"Given the current setup, what's the production rate?"
Luna thought that producing one every 2,000 years would be acceptable. Planet-class warships aren't difficult to construct externally, but internal machinery is crucial.
Precise machining is primarily done by the eternally democratic star nation; smaller star nations lack the technology to manufacture such equipment.
Propulsion and energy storage requirements are particularly high.
Luna knew that some intricate components require over a hundred years to manufacture, not just due to design but also material production.
These materials are not naturally occurring but super-materials created using advanced techniques.
The Federation can mass-produce some super-materials, but these aren't the strongest; core materials require meticulous attention to detail.
"With the completed setup, production time can be reduced to 1,300 years."
Ayla's response surprised Luna.
1,300 years; theoretically, producing fifty planet-class warships takes 65,000 years.
"Can production time be further reduced once the technology matures?"
Luna believed further reduction was possible.
"Yes, with current technology, it can be reduced to around 1,100 years."
Theoretically, future technological advancements could make it faster.
However, this isn't practical. Technological advancements require comprehensive upgrades to the production lines, taking thousands of years; essentially, a new line would need to be built.
Luna then inquired about the Federation's current situation, gaining a clearer understanding.
...
Even after abandoning the plan to transfer her server to the Free Star City, Ayla didn't shorten the startup time.
She still transferred the server, but not for her use; it became the Free Star City's Boundary God.
Free Star Cities don't have a Boundary God; smaller AIs manage each layer.
This is because Free Star Cities lack the energy to power a Boundary God.
However, Ayla's original plan involved residing in A-19; its energy system differs from others.
The surprising element is the ring-like structure around the Star City.
These rings are dark matter collectors.
Dark matter is the ultimate energy source.
Other Star Cities have dark matter collectors, but smaller and less numerous due to the high cost.
Luna understands that a Free Star City costs approximately 3,000 trillion Energy Credits; the dark matter collector alone costs nearly 80 trillion.
The Federation's current Energy Credits differ from the old ones; they're more technologically advanced.
They primarily consist of electrons or are themselves giant atoms.
The core is the nucleus; the outer shell comprises septillions of electrons. The energy scale isn't 270,000 kilowatt-hours; it's 27 trillion kilowatt-hours.
The Energy Credit change stemmed from its increasing intrinsic value; electricity has little value in the Federation. Although an Energy Credit generates 270,000 kilowatt-hours, its purchasing power is equivalent to a fraction of a cent in Earth's terms.
Initially, Energy Credits held intrinsic value. After the Federation entered the Type 2 civilization era, their value became tied to Federation credibility.
Later, Federation credibility surpassed the Energy Credit's intrinsic value by 100,000 or even a million times.
Luna and Ayla didn't consider changing it then.
It benefited the Federation.
Using excessive energy to create Energy Credits would deplete government resources—a self-defeating act. Initially, Energy Credits had a premium.
This premium was a way for the government to control and concentrate resources.
Equating energy and currency would render the government's efforts futile.
The 27 trillion kilowatt-hours is insignificant to the Federation; it produces enough energy to create ten billion Energy Credits per second, or 864 trillion per day.
Like the old Energy Credits, current ones also have a premium.
Ten billion Energy Credits might represent 1,000 times its fuel value. Theoretically, the 3 quadrillion Energy Credit cost actually uses 3 quintillion Energy Credits' worth of energy—roughly the Federation's annual energy production.
This is a significant amount.
Luna plans to create 400 Star Cities, requiring 400 years' worth of energy production.
The Federation possesses these resources, but it's not ideal. It's like a major 21st-century nation spending ten or twenty trillion on a single project.
Thus, not all Free Star Cities can have dark matter collectors.
To avoid wasting these collectors, Ayla keeps the server on A-19.
Eight months later, the equipment deployment was complete.
With cheers from the inhabitants, A-19 officially launched.
Its destination: the Starry Sea.
On the street, Luna saw some crying. While not human tears, each species, influenced by Human culture, experiences joy, anger, love, sorrow, and even what could be defined as silent weeping.
These emotions were evident.
This was their home for a long time; leaving might mean forever.
No.
Not might; it will be.
At the Free Star City's speed, returning would take millions of years.
The Federation might not even exist then, let alone any individuals.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"
Countless fireworks erupted.
Ayla tried to make it festive. Amidst the fireworks, people left their homes, embarking on an unknown but certain journey.
This place held diverse people.
They harbored diverse dreams.
Watching the fireworks, they closed their eyes and made promises.
Luna watched.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Ayla appeared beside her, her small hand clasped in Luna's large one, watching the beautiful fireworks.
...
Y-278 Sector.
This is a letter sector, implying a distance of over a hundred light-years from the Federation border.
However, this sector is unique.
It belongs to the Federation, a colony—at least, that's what Lan heard.
"How long have we been traveling?" he asked.
His roommate checked the time. "About 2,728 years."
"Then my family must be dead," Lan said calmly.
His roommate was silent for a moment. "Mine too."
The space age.
Young people yearn for the cosmos.
But for families, space is a one-way journey. Anyone who goes never returns; it's akin to death.
This is a suffocating pain.
Modern people call it—Eternal Grief.
Lan remembered the days before his departure; his body trembled each night, facing the reality of never returning.
"It feels like a long dream, as if the decades of waiting were just a part of it."
"My family… they were only in my dreams, not real."
Lan huddled, his longing excruciating.
His roommate patted him.
"Don't think about it. You have a happy family."
"When my family learned of my dream to explore space around age seven, they became distant."
Lan looked up. "Isn't distance a form of suffering?"
His roommate was silent.
He couldn't answer.
If they didn't care, why the distance?
It would've been that way from birth.
This distancing, this forced detachment from loved ones, is a kind of pain.
A unique pain!
"You're right. At the ship's departure, I saw them. They came to see me off."
"My mother and father cried. I always thought they were cold. I lived with them for eighty years, and they showed little emotion. Yet, when I left, they cried."
"I cried too."
"Sometimes I resent being born into this civilization. It's too emotionally intense; emotions bring the greatest suffering."
Lan thought he was alone, but his roommate's words revealed a shared experience.
This pain is indescribable, unsharable.
It's the burden of time!
"I heard the Federation is developing super displacement technology for living beings. Theoretically, it can transport living organisms at the speed of light."
"Hopefully, we'll see super displacement in our lifetime," Lan said hopefully.
He felt he was born in the wrong era. If he were born a few thousand or tens of thousands of years later, Federation technology might solve these problems.
Every generation feels this way.
"Actually, super displacement can transport people, but it requires an application and significant funds, and the results are unpredictable."
His roommate's words sparked an idea in Lan.
A voice announced it was mealtime.
Lan said to his roommate, "I don't know your name. I'm Lan."
His roommate replied, "Cosichari Adrummonicodi. My friends call me Codi; they say my name is too long."
Lan didn't bother remembering it.
He nodded. "Right."
They left their eight-square-meter room; it had two levels: a rest area and a cryogenic storage compartment. It wasn't cramped; it was around fourteen square meters, larger than an eight-person dorm in the 21st century.
This is standard for space travel; the Federation has regulations.
A metal sliding door opened automatically. They entered a ten-meter-wide corridor, about twelve meters high, with various species heading in one direction.
They arrived at a large hall—at least ten standard basketball courts.
Seats rose from the floor, and everyone began eating.
There was no particular order; they were workers, not soldiers.
The ship has about twenty such levels, each holding around 3,000 people, totaling about 60,000 passengers.
Sitting in his seat, Lan connected to the ship's cameras, viewing space.
However, it was obscured by hundreds of similar ships.
"Moortas Sky Building Interstellar Company" was printed on the ship's hull.
"Nothing spectacular. It's 0.3 light-years to the star system; we'll be here for about two and a half years," Codi explained.
They were called to their feet early for physical restoration, training, and education.
Upon arrival in the new sector, everyone undergoes training to adapt to the environment.
Job assignments and order are paramount.
Lan suddenly saw a window appear on his screen.
[The company has sent you standard daily routines, job details, simulated training materials, and other documents. Please accept.]
Lan mentally accepted; the documents downloaded into his auxiliary brain.
Retrieving them, Lan studied the details.
"My assignment is external assembly. Yours?" he asked Codi.
Codi sighed. "The same."
"This is dangerous work. We're very close to the star."
Lan said, "It's okay. We'll control robots from inside; we don't need to work outside."
"Besides, the salary is much higher than other positions—210, plus two Energy Credits daily allowance."
That's 270 Energy Credits monthly.
Lan only earned 38 Energy Credits in his previous Star City job.
"Not bad, but it's life-threatening; the star could unleash a solar flare anytime."
"Do you think our equipment can withstand hundreds of thousands of degrees Celsius?"
Solar flares can strip away the corona; coronal temperatures typically reach hundreds of thousands to millions of degrees Celsius.
"High risk, high reward. I think it's worth it."
"After all, aren't we here to earn money?"
"Compared to being an explorer, this job is more stable and safer."
Codi agreed, but as a pessimist, he disliked such dangerous work.
Knowing Lan had the same assignment eased his discomfort.
After dinner, they returned to their room and entered a virtual world to train. The work was tedious, but time passed quickly.
Their goal was within reach.