Chapter 25: Time and Time

ST 2027-500:150:999. Once again, the eyes of the entire Interstellar Federation were fixed on the Civilization Approval Rate rankings.

Earth’s people were desperate to know whether, after more than two years of struggle, they had managed to make any progress on this list.

In the Earth government’s Conference Room 308, the decision-makers and the heads of the Public Relations Department were all gathered, their expressions grave as they stared intently at the central holographic projection.

Displayed there was the Civilization Approval Rate ranking, with two conspicuous time indicators at the top—one for Interstellar Standard Time, and one for Earth Time.

When Interstellar Standard Time ticked from ST 2027-500:150:999 to ST 2028-001:000:000, Earth time shifted from 16:00 to 16:01, April 1, 5208.

The rankings updated.

The AI automatically locked onto Earth’s position.

A line of text was highlighted for all to see.

Galactic Alliance · Earth Autonomous Star, Civilization Approval Rate: 10.00000000%.

A deathly silence filled the room.

Old Lu stood up from his seat, swept his gaze around, and finally spoke: “The result is out. I believe none of you have any doubts about the report my student Chang Yu submitted.”

The Jadeite representative was the first to break, “As expected—‘Those who are not our kin must have different hearts’! From the earliest emotion-monitoring devices, to the later cultural blockade, and now the data lock on the Civilization Approval Rate—those long-lived species never intended to accept us! We’ve been played for fools from start to finish!”

The other representatives’ faces were so dark they seemed ready to drip water.

The Europa representative knocked on the table. “Everyone, let’s not let anger cloud our reason. Our situation is dire. Deputy Minister Cen, do you have any ideas?”

Cen Lan, uncharacteristically, was silent for a long time before she said, “Aside from following procedure and appealing to the Supreme Intelligence, I have no solution. And even then, it’s very likely the appeal won’t pass the Supreme Intelligence’s review.”

The representatives exchanged uneasy glances, not expecting such an uncertain answer from Cen Lan.

“Deputy Minister Cen, what does Ms. Feng say?” asked the Northern representative.

“Her answer is to make the truth public on the StarNet, but she can’t guarantee how public opinion will go.” Cen Lan paused, then added, “When the Interstellar Federation previously imposed a soft blockade on us, they still tried to cover it up. This time, they’ve put their suppression right out in the open. That means they have some leverage we don’t know about. We… can’t act rashly.”

“Deputy Minister Cen, we have such strong evidence in hand, and you think we can’t use it?” The Desert representative frowned.

“It’s not that it’s useless to us, but that it must be used at the right moment.” Cen Lan explained, “Regarding public opinion, Ms. Feng later suggested a compromise.”

“What compromise?” pressed the Azure representative.

“To start, release some ambiguous rumors on the StarNet, to test the waters.” Cen Lan replied. “That’s all we can do for now.”

Silence fell over the conference room once more.

At last, Minister Li spoke, his voice carrying a trace of weariness, “Let’s proceed with Deputy Minister Cen’s suggestion for now.”

·

Youjian Entertainment Data Center.

Feng Jingyu had not left the center all day. She sat in her chair, eyes fixed on the densely-updating StarNet data in the holographic projection before her.

The AI, according to Feng Jingyu’s specifications, sorted the hottest topics, Earth-related discussions, and Civilization Approval Rate threads, listing them one by one so she could quickly access whatever she needed.

Wang Pei had already gone home to rest; Feng Jingyu had approved a long leave for him. His state was simply too unstable, and a break from the data center—some time recuperating at home—might do him good.

After reading the AI’s summary, Feng Jingyu closed the projection and sat silently, motionless, as if lost in thought.

Chang Yu saw this and had many questions he wanted to ask, but he held back.

“Chang Yu, have them start from this set of topic content.” Feng Jingyu sent the prepared material to Chang Yu’s terminal.

Chang Yu scanned through it and noticed the wording was all gentle, puzzled, and questioning in tone.

Now it was Chang Yu’s turn to be confused. He asked, “Ms. Feng, why use this kind of language?”

“The reaction on the StarNet is too calm—or rather, there’s no reaction at all. Do you know what that means?” Feng Jingyu’s words sent a chill down Chang Yu’s spine. “It means that, to them, Earth’s Civilization Approval Rate not changing is the most normal thing in the world.”

·

[I’m an Earthling, let me start: I just don’t understand why our Civilization Approval Rate hasn’t changed for two years in a row?]

[I want to know too… Everyone clearly loves ‘Journey to the West,’ and even joined us in complaining about Youjian Entertainment’s shady practices…]

[Yeah, can anyone explain this? Why hasn’t the Civilization Approval Rate changed at all? QAQ]

[To be honest, seeing the same number for the second year really hurts. I thought our efforts had finally been recognized.]

[Earthlings, don’t be sad. It’s totally normal for the Civilization Approval Rate not to change. It’s not your fault.]

[Yeah, yeah, we’ve all seen your hard work (￣▽￣”) ]

[Don’t cry, don’t be discouraged, you’re already amazing.]

[Just wait patiently for another fifty interstellar years—there’ll definitely be a change. That’s how it is for almost every star system.]

[That’s right, the Civilization Approval Rate updates every interstellar year, but the actual numbers almost never change. Real changes usually happen once every fifty interstellar years.]

[Σ( ° △°|||)︴Fifty interstellar years?! I don’t even know if I’ll live to see that…]

[Fifty interstellar years… My grandkids might not even be around for the next update… _(:з)∠】_]

[Now that you mention it, it’s true. Fifty interstellar years is really a long time for Earthlings…]

[Comparing like this, I can’t help but feel lucky I’m a long-lived species…]

·

Conference Room 308 quickly convened a second meeting.

This time, Cen Lan was the chair.

“Everyone, please look—these are the real data feedback we’ve gathered after a month of our public opinion strategy.” Cen Lan swept her gaze around, taking in every expression before continuing, “I believe by now, you all understand the Interstellar Federation’s greatest leverage.”

The Europa representative withdrew his gaze from the holographic projection. “Deputy Minister Cen, what do these numbers tell us?”

“The fundamental difference between us and the long-lived species isn’t lifespan—it’s… time.” Cen Lan’s words rang out with weight.

“Time?” The representatives all wore the same look of confusion.

“In the end, we and the Interstellar Federation operate on two entirely different systems of time. We can’t fit into their time, and their time doesn’t fit us. That’s the root of our conflict.” Cen Lan explained. “That’s the key.”

The Northern representative pondered for a moment, then said, “So, Deputy Minister Cen, you have a plan?”

“Exactly.” Cen Lan folded her hands on the table, her eyes more resolute than ever. “We will appeal to the Supreme Intelligence—using the difference in time dimensions as our angle, we will demand that the Interstellar Federation recalculate Earth’s Civilization Approval Rate.”

“I see! That way, we bypass the locked mechanism and also question whether their measuring stick is even suitable for us.” The Desert representative exclaimed in admiration.

“Exactly. The Interstellar Federation will never admit to locking the Approval Rate. If the road is blocked, then we’ll smash through the wall.” The Azure representative agreed. “As expected from Deputy Minister Cen—she saw right through to the heart of the matter with just these data.”

Minister Li looked at Cen Lan with deep satisfaction. “Deputy Minister Cen, I’m entrusting this matter to you.”

“Yes, sir.”