The story continues on two fronts.
On one side, at the Amateur Radio Hyperspace Communications Emergency Command for Reversing the Future and Saving the World—a name Bai Zhen came up with—the command center was established in Room 804, Building 11 of Qinyuan at Meihua Villa, which was essentially his living room. While it sounded like some earth-shattering organization, there were only four people in total. It was the most makeshift of makeshift operations, with Mom being forcibly recruited. She had no idea what crazy scheme they were up to and couldn’t help, so Dad said she could handle administration and dubbed her Administrative Director!
Mom asked what administrative work entailed.
Dad said administrative work meant serving tea, cleaning, purchasing office supplies, and taking meeting minutes.
Mom pointed and said, “Go sweep the floor for me.”
Dad replied, “Right away!”
Thus the Amateur Radio Hyperspace Communications Emergency Command for Reversing the Future and Saving the World was established, abbreviated as Reverse Command. Its English name was “Reverse the Future, Save the World, Amateur Radio and Hyperspace Communications Emergency command,” abbreviated as RSAHE—also Bai’s idea.
Old Bai had been wanting to do something like this for ages.
Who didn’t have chuunibyou dreams of building a secret base when they were young?
Wang Ning stared at the lengthy English name for quite a while before asking Old Bai, “Have you passed CET-4?”
Bai Zhen asked, “What’s CET-4?”
It had been two days since Zhao Bowen left, and in those two days he had called twenty-four times—averaging twelve calls per day, one call every two hours. Sometimes Bai Yang would receive Uncle Zhao’s calls as late as 11:30 PM, either asking him to take photos of ID cards or the radio. The most ridiculous request was asking him to clap.
The night before last at 10:30 PM, Bai Yang had just gotten home and put down his backpack when he received a WeChat call from Uncle Zhao.
Zhao Bowen excitedly said on the other end that he had just finished a three-hour meeting and, thanks to his silver tongue and heavy palms, had finally convinced all the attendees.
Bai Yang exclaimed in shock, “What kind of meeting is decided by palm strength? A national technical exchange for arm wrestling?”
Old Zhao said that on such occasions, it came down to who could slam the table the loudest.
If your table-slamming dominated the room, you were the boss.
Bai Yang said, “I thought everyone in those settings would sit like Commander Ikari, Shinji’s father, with their glasses gleaming.”
Old Zhao said there weren’t many middle-aged chuunibyou cases like that these days.
Bai Yang said, “Alright Uncle Zhao, what do you need from me this time? What photos? What documents need printing?”
Old Zhao said, “None of that—give me some applause!”
Bai Yang was stunned.
Old Zhao said, “I’ve finally cracked this tough nut after so much effort! I’m sitting on the high-speed train to Hangzhou now, heading to crack another tough nut. I want to stand up and shout to all the passengers like a train vendor: ‘Everyone look here! I solved a major problem! Everyone give me a round of applause!’ But doing that would probably get me hauled to the police station by railway police, so I can only call you. Yang-Yang, give me some applause!”
Bai Yang put the phone on the desk and clapped: pat-pat-pat-pat-pat.
Zhao Bowen hung up, satisfied.
Bai Yang stared blankly at his phone—this guy just called for applause.
According to unofficial sources, on the evening of October 22nd, the Third Regular Meeting of the Amateur Radio Hyperspace Communications Emergency Command for Reversing the Future and Saving the World was held at Meihua Villa in Nanjing. Attendees Bai Zhen, Wang Ning, and Bai Yang had an in-depth discussion about technical solutions for data transmission using the Icom-725 amateur radio, exchanged views and opinions on the operational feasibility of various technical approaches, and reached a consensus.
“…Theoretically speaking, the fact that you could establish contact proves a communication link exists. She can receive the signals your IC-725 transmits, and you can receive her signals, though we don’t know how it’s accomplished.” Before Wang Ning could finish speaking, his phone suddenly started vibrating in his pocket.
Everyone present focused their attention on his phone.
“Must be Old Zhao calling.” Wang Ning said as he picked up his phone, looked at the screen—unknown number.
He answered.
A few seconds later his expression changed. He covered the microphone and whispered to everyone present: “It’s Nanjing University.”
Wang Ning jogged outside to take the call. Bai Yang could hear his voice drifting in from outside: “Yes, yes… this is Wang Ning… hello, hello…”
Ten minutes later Wang Ning finished the call and returned, dropping onto the sofa.
“People from Nanjing University called to say they want to schedule a visit… Anyway, as we were saying, since a communication link exists, transmitting other data is technically possible—it’s just a matter of modulation.”
“What kind of data?” Bai Yang asked.
“Any data,” said Bai Zhen. “Modern communication engineering can hide anything in carrier waves. Just like when you use your phone to browse videos and social media, the data exchange with the router happens through ultra-high frequencies above 2GHz—that’s UHF, while the IC-725 uses shortwave, which is HF.”
“That’s a digital signal,” said Bai Yang. “The IC-725 is analog.”
“Yes, that’s a digital signal,” Bai Zhen nodded. “Like I said, that’s just a difference in modulation methods. At the most fundamental technical level, they all work by your radio’s crystal oscillator generating high-frequency vibration energy, which reaches the other radio’s antenna and causes it to vibrate at high frequencies. It’s no different from how you hear me speaking, just that one uses electromagnetic waves and the other uses mechanical waves. When I was young, large areas of the country still used analog TV signals. Back then we used Yagi antennas to receive signals, and analog signals worked just fine…”
Before Bai Zhen could finish, the phone on the sofa started vibrating.
“This time it must be Old Zhao calling.”
Bai Zhen glanced at the phone screen—an unknown number.
He answered.
A few seconds later his expression changed. He covered the phone’s microphone and whispered to the others: “It’s the Municipal Committee.”
Bai Zhen jogged outside to take the call. Bai Yang could hear his voice drifting in from outside: “Ah yes, yes, this is Bai Zhen… hello, hello…”
Ten minutes later, Bai Zhen finished the call and returned, dropping onto the sofa.
“The Municipal Committee people also said they want to schedule a visit. Now, where were we—right, analog signals aren’t a problem, shortwave radio can transmit both voice and images.”
“Under the right conditions, images can be transmitted,” Wang Ning nodded. “Yang, do you know about ARISS? The International Space Station—they have an amateur radio station onboard, callsign NA1SS, usually active on 145.800MHz. Besides their regular activities like school earth-to-space communications, they also…”
Before he could finish, another phone rang.
This time it was Bai Yang’s phone.
Bai Yang answered: “Hello? Uncle Zhao?”
“Yang-Yang, are they all with you?” Zhao Bowen said on the phone. “Put it on speaker! Maximum volume!”
Bai Yang pressed the speaker button and placed the phone on the tea table.
“I’ve dealt with another bunch! Damn, these bastards were tough as hell!” Zhao Bowen shouted from the other end. “I’m fucking exhausted! Where’s my applause? Give me applause!”
The room erupted in thunderous applause.
Zhao Bowen hung up, satisfied.
He had only called for applause.
Old Wang said that with his daily demands for applause, it was a waste that Old Zhao wasn’t working with Brother Xiao doing brainwashing.
“Besides earth-to-space communications, ARISS also transmits some images down,” Wang Ning continued. “You can receive them with the most basic equipment—anyone can receive them.”
“Even walkie-talkies can receive them,” said Bai Zhen. “As long as you have a suitable antenna.”
“This is very basic technology, Yang, you must have heard of it,” said Wang Ning. “Slow-scan television, we usually call it…”
“SSTV,” said Bai Zhen.
“Let’s figure something out, maybe we can make it happen?” Wang Ning looked up at Bai Yang with a grin. “Let you two see each other face to face.”