You were told to build a tractor, but you're building a rocket? Chapter 579 - 567: On Duty

No matter when, being a diver has always been an absolutely high-risk and adventurous profession.

The pressure of seawater increases trendously with depth, and divers who often train underwater are prone to decompression sickness. Furthermore, if they are not ntally strong, they may also develop a fear of deep-sea claustrophobia.

But in reality, most divers usually work at depths of less than 40 ters. Even though there are records of dives hundreds of ters deep, their practical significance is quite limited, and they are rarely attempted.

The total length of the CZ-18 launch container is 260 ters. After dismantling the exposed part above the sea surface, which is 40 ters, there remains 220 ters, with at least 180 ters subrged underwater. At this depth, only professional submarines and underwater robots can perform operational tasks.

The depth of the cent base of the launch area sunk to the sea floor is a full 230 ters. Due to the abrupt and complex terrain of the seabed near the shore, the operational risk for manned subrsibles is extrely high.

The preparatory work for the entire launch area had its significant challenges; just the depth of the cent base pouring was more than twice that of the piers of a cross-sea bridge. It took a large number of experts on temporary assignnt to ensure the strength and structure of the base were up to standard.

And that wasn’t all, as the mooring cables between the cent base and the launch container had to be tightened downward during launch. It was impossible to install motors and reduction chanisms on the cent base at the sea floor. The design team ca up with the solution to let the mooring cables pass through the pulley set on the cent base, and ultimately, both ends had to be installed at the bottom of the launch container, allowing it to contract downward by using electricity supplied by pulling lines from the shore.

So, although it may look like the launch container is sinking, in reality, if the mooring cables were to suddenly snap, the container’s own buoyancy would be enough to accelerate it to a high velocity and vault out of the water. That’s a terrifying force of 120,000 tons.

Yu Ziming carefully placed his hand on the outer wall of the launch container, as if he could feel the steel silently shrieking, ready to erupt at any mont.

The waves ford by the tide struck the thick steel creation ti and again, only to be easily dissipated. Under the illumination of countless powerful searchlights, the continuously generated white foam could be seen.

"Captain, Group 6 has co down,"

Yu Ziming then lifted his head; it turned out that mbers of Group 6 working inside the launch container were erging from the top part that protruded above the sea surface, descending toward the sea on an external, rudintary open-air elevator.

Luckily, the top 40 ters of the launch container would be dismantled before launch; otherwise, what protruded above the sea surface would be 80 ters high instead of 40 ters. Even the latter is equivalent to the height of more than a dozen floors.

Six elite diver groups, rotating every three hours, one group inside the container for inspection and another diving outside – this continuous rotation was to persist until 90 minutes prior to the launch.

The elevator—a tal cage attached to the outside of the launch container, operated by steel cables—carried the 8 mbers of Group 6, who jumped down one after another. They joined the mbers of Group 3 outside and then watched as Groups 1 and 5 took over for the last shift.

Yu Ziming led Group 1, which was responsible for the inside of the launch container. He stepped up onto the deck of the small boat and onto the elevator, then one by one, he helped his teammates aboard, pulled the tal grill shut, and pressed the button to ascend.

The steel cable pulled the elevator upwards rapidly, the pulleys on the side making a piercing tallic clanging as they ascended, a grating noise that could be heard from a great distance.

It was already 2 a.m., but the surrounding work boats and docks were lit up as bright as daylight by searchlights that spared no expense, so Yu Ziming could clearly see how high above the sea surface he was.

The forty-so-ter distance wasn’t much of an obstacle for a professional soldier, and soon the elevator ca to a halt at the highest point. Right in front of the iron railing stood a steel jetty, from where they would need to separately transfer into the launch box’s interior to enter the 8 internal elevators and inspect conditions at various heights.

The 8 team mbers crowded together to confirm their radios were working properly before quietly walking from the top of the launch box along the jetty to their respective positions. Walking in flippers on the steel surface was uncomfortable, but they had to endure it.

This large pressure-resistant casing was being built dostically for the first ti, and with so many moving doors, there would be no ti to don equipnt if water got inside.

Yu Ziming’s work elevator was right next to the spot where he had co up, but he didn’t enter it imdiately. Instead, he cautiously approached the railing and tilted his head slightly, trying to see the bottom of the massive creamy-white cylindrical object in front of him.

"Majestic"—that was the first word that ca to Yu Ziming’s mind, as only "majestic" could truly convey how imnse the CZ-18 was.

Although he served in the Marine Corps, Yu Ziming was from the inland. He had carefully compared the dinsions of the CZ-18 and eventually found that its height was not much different from the West Pearl Tower in Rong City, and its overall width and volu were much greater.

The thought of such a massive object soaring into the sky gave him an unreal sense of awe.

The interior of the launch box was also filled with a large number of searchlights; their beams shone on the rocket’s 18-ter diater body and reflected back, filling the entire space with a milky white halo.

"Kang kang kang kang..."

The semi-open elevator began to descend rapidly under his control, with a normal working speed of 3.5 ters per second, which classified it as a high-speed elevator. But even so, it took a full minute to descend to the bottom.

Yu Ziming stopped 5 tis on his way down, checking the 5 floodgate outlets on his side. The gates were all working well, and the stress readings from each point were within the normal range.

Throughout the process, he could constantly hear the imnse noise of steel vibrating; at first, he thought it was his comrades’ elevators, but it was only when the elevator reached the very bottom and stepped onto the steel plate 184 ters below the sea level that he realized the noise was the sound of the casing straining under pressure.

The launch box weighed a staggering 30,000 tonnes, but it was still light as a feather in the face of the ocean. The steel beneath his feet kept making the sa "click-click" noises as the elevator tracks. Had the experts not assured them that this was normal, he doubted anyone would dare to linger there.

From there, he could no longer see the dark night sky above; the rocket’s body turned into a huge column before Yu Ziming, stretching up into the sky with no end in sight, like the mythological Jianmu tree or the Tower of Babel from the West.

Atop the rocket, the "Chapter 9" spacecraft jutting out resembled a flint, so unobtrusively subtle.

The bottom of the CZ-18 was now a dense jungle of steel—a base that could evenly bear the weight of the rocket and its boosters. Between the gaps in the steel structure were nurous densely packed engines.

Yu Ziming climbed onto the steel base and stood in front of the Core Stage One’s rocket body, where he saw large droplets of water condensed on the tal surface.

Conventional cryogenic fuel rockets need a layer of insulation tiles to prevent ice buildup on the rocket’s surface, but the CZ-18’s zero-evaporation tanks firmly blocked most of the temperature and pressure. Not even the outer surface allowed the moisture in the air to form frost. If his colleagues were to see this, they’d think they were dreaming.