Chapter 297
Night faded, and the first rays of dawn pierced the clouds. Inside the Oracle Building's top-floor room.
The room's design was extremely minimalist. Beyond essential furnishings, the only decoration was this massive floor-to-ceiling window that captured Skyview City's entire sunrise.
Seraphine stood in that morning light, still wearing her white research coat, apparently having not slept all night. Yet her spirit showed no trace of fatigue—her eyes bright, intensely focused.
Familiar footsteps sounded behind her. A cup of warm water appeared at her side.
"Drink some water first." Lucius's voice carried a hint of morning hoarseness. He naturally stood beside her, his black silk robe complementing her pure white perfectly.
Seraphine took the cup, sipped. "The theoretical model passed verification, but the first-phase node materials are a problem. Nothing currently available works."
Her tone was calm, as if discussing what to have for breakfast.
Lucius's gaze swept across the data. "I already had Barry contact the Maphur Institute for Solid State Chemistry and Physics in Aetheria. Three years ago, in an abandoned experimental project, they accidentally synthesized a titanium-osmium alloy that might meet your requirements. Related materials and samples will arrive within three days."
Seraphine didn't ask how he knew, didn't ask how he'd managed to get that notoriously rigorous and exclusive Aetherian institute to hand over top-secret materials within three days.
These questions, with him, never needed asking.
"Good." She said just one word, then continued her work.
They stood side by side like that, sunlight stretching their shadows long, overlapping together, harmonious as if it had always been meant to be.
"This weekend, let's bring Nolan and Heidi over." Lucius suddenly spoke.
Seraphine made a sound of agreement—her consent.
After a while, the office door was gently knocked. Barry walked in, his expression today more complex than ever—both the exhaustion of completing an impossible task and the exhilaration of witnessing history.
"Mr. Talbot, Dr. Manners." He first greeted them respectfully, then handed Lucius a document. "Regarding the preliminary application for lunar orbit construction permits—it's passed the first round of multi-department review. Subsequent procedures will be tedious, but... the path has been opened."
As he said this, he felt somewhat dazed himself. A month ago, when his boss asked him to secure a "ticket" to the moon, he'd thought he was hearing things. Now, that "ticket" was actually materializing.
He snuck a glance at the couple standing side by side by the window, feeling like a mortal who'd stumbled into a mythological age. Other people's bosses were still frantic over market share—his boss was already planning interstellar operations.
Saturday, Oracle Building.
When Lucius and Seraphine walked into the ground-floor lobby with the two children, even the worldly Nolan couldn't suppress a small gasp of amazement.
The entire lobby was like a gallery from the future. The dome simulated a starry sky, countless points of light slowly flowing, converging into the Milky Way's shape. The floor was mirror-smooth, reflecting the brilliance overhead. No walls surrounded them, only massive holographic screens displaying magnificent imagery from cell division to nebula evolution.
"Whoa," Nolan tilted his little head back, eyes sparkling with excitement. As a little hacker, he had zero resistance to this tech-saturated environment.
Heidi was quieter. She wasn't captivated by the flashy effects like Nolan, but curiously observed the white-coated staff coming and going through the lobby. She could sense that everyone here radiated a focused, powerful energy.
A round, white robot glided over, extending a mechanical arm to hand each child a custom children's ID card.
"Welcome, Nolan, Heidi. I am 'Oracle's' AI butler 'Lumen.' Pleased to serve you." The robot's electronic eye blinked with a gentle blue glow.
Nolan's interest immediately piqued. He grabbed the ID card, examining it from every angle, trying to analyze the technical principles behind this small piece of plastic.
Seraphine led them into a private elevator. The elevator interior was also full of panoramic screens. As they ascended, the city landscape outside was projected in real-time, creating the illusion of riding a flying vehicle through the urban skyline.
"Cool!" Nolan couldn't help exclaiming.
The elevator stopped at the top floor. The doors opened to a space completely beyond the children's imagination.
This didn't look like an office—more like a high-tech children's paradise. The floor was a soft, elastic material. The surrounding walls could transform according to imagination, instantly shifting between forests, oceans, space, and various other scenes. At the room's center, various holographic projection modules floated, able to be dragged and combined at will into all sorts of interesting toys.
"This was prepared especially for you," Lucius spoke, his voice carrying a tenderness even he hadn't noticed. "Besides Seraphine's office and lab, the rest of the top floor belongs to you."
Nolan and Heidi exchanged glances, both seeing delight in each other's eyes.
Seraphine walked to the room's center, lightly snapping her fingers. The surrounding scenery instantly transformed into a massive solar system model constructed of light.
"Want to see what 'Oracle' is?" She asked with a smile.
Both children were immediately drawn over, nodding curiously.
Seraphine extended her hand, swiping lightly through the air. An azure 'Earth' model enlarged, its surface revealing countless fine points of light, representing every person.
"'Oracle' can let our brains connect directly with the external world, like this." She pointed at one light point. That point extended a beam of light, connecting to a nearby virtual computer screen. On the screen, an image imagined by the light point's owner immediately appeared.
"Wow! So you mean you can draw without your hands, just by thinking?" Nolan immediately grasped the key point, his eyes shining brilliantly.
"Not just drawing." Seraphine's voice carried a captivating magic. "You can think to learn knowledge, operate machines, even... chat with friends on another planet."
Nolan was completely blown away. He circled the solar system model, his little brain racing, firing off a string of sharp technical questions.
"Then is the data transmission bandwidth sufficient? What precision can neural signal parsing achieve? Will there be signal crosstalk? Will reverse information writing cause irreversible brain damage?"
These questions far exceeded what a five-year-old should know—more like a professional researcher's queries.
Lucius stood to the side, watching his son and Seraphine trade remarks about 'ultra-high-dimensional data parsing' and 'quantum entanglement communication,' his eyes revealing pride and satisfaction.
But Heidi didn't join their technical discussion. She just quietly watched that azure 'Earth,' her little brows slightly furrowed.
"Mommy," she suddenly spoke, her voice soft. "If everyone's thoughts can be connected, then... couldn't bad people's thoughts hurt good people? If someone thinks very sad things, won't everyone become unhappy?"
Her question silenced both Nolan and Seraphine's heated discussion.
Seraphine looked at her daughter with some surprise. Nolan focused on 'how the technology works,' while Heidi focused on the fundamental questions about 'humanity' and 'ethics' behind the technology.
She walked to Heidi's side, crouching down again, looking seriously into her eyes. "Heidi asked a very, very important question. That's why 'Oracle' needs a 'gatekeeper.' We've established a 'dual-track oversight system'—like a smart robot police officer and a wise human judge. They work together, keeping out those bad thoughts and sad emotions, only letting through things that are beautiful and useful."
Heidi nodded, seeming to half-understand, the worry on her face easing considerably.
Lucius watched this scene, his heart full of tenderness. One like her—rational, precise, cutting straight to the core. One also like her—sensitive, perceptive, compassionate. They were both lights in his life.
"Alright, technical symposium's over." Lucius walked over, scooping up both children, one in each arm. "Now it's your playtime. Seraphine and I need to attend a meeting. You play here—'Lumen' will keep you company."
He set both children in that futuristic playroom, then left with Seraphine.
Only the two children and the round robot remained in the room.
Nolan immediately began his 'exploration.' He ran to the wall, trying to find the backend program controlling the scene transitions.
"Lumen, open developer mode." He used a commanding tone.
"Sorry, Nolan. You don't have that permission." Lumen's electronic voice was utterly flat.