CH1192 · Rewrite
☕ Support

Chapter 1192: A Wind Chaser

Neutron sources — a kind of catalyst — provided extra neutrons to sustain the chain reaction even when Uranium-235 was below its critical mass.

Both polonium and radium, separated from natural uranium, could be compounded with beryllium to serve as neutron sources. Roland foresaw no technical difficulties: polonium released a torrent of neutrons when struck by alpha particles, and all three elements existed in nature, sparing them the effort of artificial synthesis.

He preferred polonium to radium on safety grounds alone. Polonium-210 had a short half-life, but upon decay it released very few photons, making it barely more dangerous than inert uranium. Radium, by contrast, released radon gas and gamma photons — a persistent hazard. Polonium was the cleaner candidate.

Beryllium had its own advantage: it reflected neutrons, increasing the probability of each neutron interacting with the fissile core. Polonium, beryllium, and a sufficient quantity of Uranium-235, in even the simplest gun-type assembly, could produce a lethal result.

And beryllium was common in emeralds, which were accessible throughout the Four Kingdoms. Azima would not need to search the wilderness for it.

Roland understood Neverwinter’s present technology precisely. The principle of the Resplendent Radiation was simple enough — but raising the energy utilization rate from 1% toward 90% demanded rigorous theoretical calculation and exhaustive testing. A low conversion rate meant enormous waste of precious uranium and a weapon too large to deploy practically. Lucia’s extraction ability minimized the loss of material; that was the one mercy of the situation.

Even so, building a nuclear weapon from nothing required mastery of a dozen advanced disciplines at once. The destructive power was without parallel compared to conventional explosives: even 1% energy release from uranium dwarfed anything chemistry could produce.

Roland had to succeed. This battle would decide the fate of humanity.

To hold the power of the sun in your palms, in this uncivilized age — wasn’t there something like romance in that?

He would try, however impossible it seemed.

“Keep up the good work,” Roland said, patting Lucia on the head. “Once all the cabinets are filled, we can begin the tests.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Lucia’s eyes shone.


Meanwhile, at the Aerial Knight Academy of Neverwinter.

The area west of the research institute was quiet — the other students were on break, visiting their families. Only Good remained.

“Upwind, gear down!”

“Crosswind, roll over!”

Good sat before the mock flight deck, adjusting the controls to match the wind-direction calls he drilled from memory. The wooden rod groaned like a watermill long past its prime. The training room was sultry; sweat darkened his back, dripped from his chin onto the battered deck. Eventually his grip loosened — hands too slick — and he stopped.

He had spent nearly half a year learning to fly. By now, the instructions in Princess Tilly’s Flight Manual were engraved somewhere behind his eyes rather than read from a page. He no longer panicked at the mock movements of a plane. His reflexes had become almost automatic: mind decided, body followed.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t know whether he could actually fly.

He could not picture himself at the controls of a real aircraft, fighting the wind alone. The Manual said to feel the wind force and wind direction, sense the movement of the aircraft and operate accordingly — but he had no idea what that feeling was supposed to be. The mock flight deck was indifferent to everything he did, motionless no matter how he worked the gear, as though it were laughing at him in silence.

The more he practiced, the more he doubted.

The door flew open.

“Oho, you’re really here.”

“Told you. I was right.”

Good looked up. Two figures stepped into the training room: Finkin and Hinds, his teammates.

“Not having fun during your break?” Finkin whistled. “Then again, the real fun is right here.”

“You have a sister, don’t you?” Hinds said, slinging an arm around Good’s neck. “She told me to tell you to rest. Very sweet of her.”

Good’s manner went rigid. “Did you go to my place?”

“Where else would we look?” Finkin said, brows raised. “Her name’s Rachel, right? Mind introducing me?”

“Out of the question,” Good said flatly, meeting Finkin’s eyes with a look that discouraged argument.

“I have a proper house near Redwater River,” Finkin said, indignant.

Good was quiet a moment. “It has nothing to do with you. Rachel has her own circumstances. She wouldn’t want to be with anyone.”

“Why?” Hinds asked. “She seemed sweet.”

“Drop it,” Good said. “What did you mean earlier, about the fun being here at school?”

Finkin lowered his voice and leaned in. “Do you want to fly a real plane?”

Good stared at him.

“I climbed over the wall a few days ago,” Finkin said, grinning. “There are new planes in the hangar. Covered with canvas — but they’re about the same size as Princess Tilly’s ‘Unicorn.’ In other words, those are our planes.”

“A few days ago? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want you getting too excited and blabbering,” Finkin said. “We’re on a break. The academy’s nearly empty. This is our chance for a look.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Good said. “No one’s allowed in there without permission.”

“The soldiers won’t let us through the main gate,” Finkin said, rolling his eyes. “So we go around the airport.”

“But — ”

“We’re just looking,” Hinds cut in. “You’ve noticed Princess Tilly’s been in a foul mood lately, stricter than ever. It’ll probably be two more months before we touch a real plane. Don’t you want to at least see what ours look like? Or do you prefer this wooden deck?”

“If you won’t come, we’ll go without you,” Finkin said, winking.

Good looked at the rickety wooden rod. The sense of loss that had settled in his chest all afternoon was still there, quiet and specific. After what felt like a long internal argument with himself, he bit his lip.

“Alright. Show me the way.”

Discussion

Suggest a change