Chapter 537

Chapter 537: The Theft of "Fenrir" Alloy

Qiu Zhengjun patted Lin Mo’s shoulder in the backseat and continued, “You are quite skilled at program development. Why don’t you give it a try and create an onboard AI system that can compete with ‘Adam’ and surpass the Americans?”

The onboard operating system used in the J-15 carrier-based aircraft, officially deployed on aircraft carriers, was precisely a brand-new system developed by Lin Mo. Shenyang Aircraft Corporation had only made some upgrades and adjustments to the source code.

The cost of three million yuan was practically a windfall for Shenyang.

Lin Mo’s high efficiency in program development left a deep impression on Qiu and those behind Shenyang, completing an almost perfect onboard operating system in just ten days, an unimaginable speed.

A typical programming team would take at least a year to finish such work, expending a lot of energy searching for hidden bugs.

“Well, I’ll find some time to give it a shot, but there are too many uncertainties with artificial intelligence programs. The learning mechanisms and limitation rules have many contradictions, making it hard to balance everything.”

Developing programs was merely Lin Mo’s way of claiming Gold Coin’s credit. The onboard operating system he provided to Shenyang originally belonged entirely to Gold Coin, and he merely offered some references and requirements regarding functionality and application.

This gold giant dragon had an unmatched talent for computer hardware and software, a level of skill Lin Mo himself admired.

“Oh? Lin Mo, you can also develop programs?”

Professor Yan’s eyes lit up, not expecting this apprentice to have such a talent; this was no small feat.

Not many pilots master multiple knowledge systems and achieve specialization. Lin Mo had already specialized in dual majors and surprisingly possessed programming skills, making him a source of admiration for his teacher.

“I just play around with it!”

Lin Mo replied modestly with a shy smile.

“No wonder you have such confidence—you can handle it all yourself.”

Professor Yan smiled with satisfaction, feeling that this prized student was truly born for aviation.

……

In California, near Los Angeles, in the city of Palmdale, stood Lockheed’s secret factory, the birthplace of the F-22 “Raptor”: Skunk Works.

Year after year, day after day, the place was tightly guarded.

Lockheed Martin’s security personnel were equipped with gear comparable to that of Delta Force and established a rigorous defense network with an array of probes and sensors, making it nearly impossible for even a mosquito to enter.

This was truly an area where no flying insect could penetrate.

Low-power pulse laser devices in the corners automatically locked onto any intruding insects; a barely noticeable dark beam would reduce them to ashes.

Every night, especially in summer, one could clearly see that Skunk Works was surrounded by a circle of insect corpses.

Flies, mosquitoes, butterflies, and various unnamed small flying insects could be found, while common crawling insects found it nearly impossible to pass through the ground’s isolation electric fence.

As a result, there had almost never been incidents of employees being bitten by mosquitoes within the factory, allowing all staff to work comfortably without insect repellent, making it a paradise for those with entomophobia.

The rooftop bird-repelling systems and trained Eagles made it difficult for ordinary birds to approach; Skunk Works could truly be described as an air exclusion zone, where neither biological beings nor human constructs could easily enter.

Because of such tight protection, Lockheed was able to develop one high-tech piece of equipment after another at this research base.

Through Skunk Works, Lockheed Martin developed all submarine-launched ballistic missiles, theater air defense systems, communication satellite systems, fighter jets like the F-16, F-22, and F-35 (JSF), U-2 spy reconnaissance aircraft, the SR-71 “Blackbird” strategic reconnaissance aircraft, the C-5 “Galaxy” large military transport aircraft series, as well as shore-based anti-submarine aircraft like the P-3 series, C-130 series military transport planes, military electronics systems, flight training aids, fire control systems, and air traffic control devices, capturing one-third of the U.S. Department of Defense’s annual procurement budget and controlling 40% of the world defense market, almost monopolizing the production and launch of all U.S. military satellites, becoming a world-class arms giant.

Five kilometers away from Skunk Works, a seafood transport vehicle quietly parked in a small alley, the cargo area topped with an inverted small boat. The curved hull of the boat concealed an array of antennas poking out from the cargo box’s top as well as a rotating radar dome.

“At nine o’clock, I’m the ‘Ghost Bird.’ I have completed system infiltration. The western zone has been unlocked; the countdown begins now for 15 minutes. I have transmitted infrared reactions and life detection responses from within the factory.”

In recent days, several old cardboard boxes had mysteriously appeared on the rooftops of some high-rise buildings surrounding Skunk Works. Strangely, even with rain and wind, these old cardboard boxes remained immovable, all having a common feature—a hole facing the factory, from which the sound of electromagnetic motors could be heard, suggesting some electronic device was in operation.

“This is ‘Flying Head Man’ and ‘Human Meat Sparrow.’ We are prepared to commence action!”

In a corner of the factory, a faint light flickered suddenly, and a transparent wave rippled through the air, slowly approaching Skunk Works. Nearby detection devices and sensors seemed to have lost their effectiveness, unresponsive to the strange change in the atmosphere. Occasionally, the transparent wave revealed a few shadows, resembling an optical camouflage fabric that could automatically adapt to the surrounding environment, especially when pressed against the walls of a building, it appeared seamless.

“‘Flying Head Man’ and ‘Human Meat Sparrow’ have entered! Avoid the two patrol teams, now prepare to disperse.”

“‘Ghost Bird’ received, system reset time is still twelve minutes; you need to hurry up.”

Like a flounder and chameleon, the special optical camouflage fabric displayed the same patterns as the surrounding environment, covering a ventilation shaft, as a figure quickly opened the isolation net and swiftly slipped inside.

The isolation net soon returned to its original state.

“‘Human Meat Sparrow’ has entered the passage, expected to reach the designated location in four minutes, equipment intact, now it’s up to you, ‘Flying Head Man.’”

“This is ‘Ghost Bird,’ pay attention, target number one has appeared, prepare for the decoy action!”

“‘Flying Head Man’ received, now starting preparation.”

The shadow in the air quickly flickered and vanished.

“Clark Bent! Working late again?”

“Yep, old Bandy! I’m on night duty today.”

A semi-bald white man swiped his work ID at the entrance of Skunk Works, waved at the guard, and hurriedly walked into the factory, clutching some documents.

As he passed the corner of a building, he suddenly trembled as if struck by lightning, a faint smell of ionized air filled the air. His muscles stiffened and slowly softened, collapsing to the ground, disappearing under something that quickly covered him, dragging him into the nearby foliage.

Moments later, a person who looked exactly like Clark Bent emerged from around the corner of the building, occasionally looking down at his feet as if having been delayed by a loose shoelace. He cleverly used this motion to keep his face in the shadows.

“Clark Bent” continued to hurry into an extremely tall building located in the core area of Skunk Works, just as before.

“Hi! Professor Clark!”

The familiar security guard, who knew every worker inside the building, greeted the new arrival.

“Uh! Bank! Good evening!”

“Clark Bent” still kept his head down as he responded, lost in thought.

The guard did not notice that the true source of the voice was not from the moving mouth, but from a hidden high-fidelity speaker at the collar.

“Clark Bent” did not look towards the guard and continued to walk towards the elevator. This elevator not only led to the 24th floor above but also down to the fourth basement floor, where another elevator could take one to the vast hidden space on the last 15 floors underground.

This was precisely where Lockheed Martin’s Skunk Works housed its most core location: Laboratory 41.

Only hidden deep underground could it serve as the perfect hiding place for secrets, as the thick layers of earth, rock, and reinforced concrete would shield against all scanning devices.

At 9:21, just as the second hand passed the top of the clock, the alarm at Skunk Works suddenly blared.

Almost instantly, all lights within the factory turned on.

The guards still on break shouted as they grabbed their weapons and rushed out, with vehicles starting up to quickly seal off the factory based on the level of the alarm.

……

Due to insomnia, old Lockheed, still in the office approving documents, was startled by the urgent ringing of a phone. It was one of the three phones on his desk, used exclusively for reporting emergencies.

Hearing this distinctive ringtone, his brow furrowed immediately as he reached for the phone.

“What? Laboratory 41 has been robbed! How could this happen, you idiots! You all better seal off the entire Palmdale, apply for military authorization to implement martial law within a twenty-kilometer radius of the city. Establish a no-fly zone over the entire city; we need military support. Even if it means hurting innocents, do whatever it takes to get the items back; I will take full responsibility.”

His dazed mind cleared instantly with this shocking news; old Lockheed’s face flushed deep red, veins popping as he began to roar.

The unexpected birth of the Fenrir alloy had just allowed Florodo Lockheed, the current head of the Lockheed family, to celebrate, but that phone call felt like a bucket of icy water drenching him from head to toe, the chilling sensation rushing from his feet straight to the top of his head.