397: Third-ranked computing power hegemony

In November, Washington, cold winds blew from the Potomac River, making the flag on the White House South Lawn snap loudly.

The press briefing room was sweltering; hundreds of reporters were squeezed in front of the blue backdrop, cameras set up in a dense forest.

U.S. Secretary of Commerce Gina Raimondo stood at the podium, her expression complex, the corners of her mouth slightly drooping, and her eye bags deeper than they had been three months ago.

On the big screen behind her were only two lines: "Lift Sanctions" "Restart Cooperation".

"After a comprehensive evaluation, the United States has decided to—lift all sanctions on Spark Technology, Xingchen Technology, and all their affiliated companies."

The reporters below were in an uproar, the sound of shutters as dense as a rainstorm.

The reporter from The New York Times was called upon first, stood up, and asked: "Madam Secretary, does this mean the United States has admitted defeat?"

Raimondo was silent for three seconds.

In those three seconds, she remembered the high spirits from when she signed the first sanctions order three years ago.

At that time, everyone thought that cutting off technology supplies would be enough to strangle this Chinese company.

Three years later, Xingchen's satellites had woven a sky-net in an orbit of 20,000 kilometers, servers were roaring in space 550 kilometers up, and the lunar base had already extracted its first barrel of rare earth elements.

And the U.S. sanctions order was not even worth as much as a piece of toilet paper.

"This means that in the space race, the United States has fallen completely behind. We need cooperation, not confrontation."

Her voice was hoarse, like sandpaper grinding against sheet metal.

That morning, an internal memo from the U.S. Department of Commerce went viral online.

The document marked "Confidential" was only one page long, but every word was like a bullet:

Assessment Report on Sanctions against Xingchen

Sanction Effect: 0

Proportion of Xingchen's reliance on U.S. technology: 0%

Losses to U.S. enterprises due to sanctions: $200 billion

Conclusion: Sanctions are now meaningless. Continuing sanctions will only harm the United States itself.

That afternoon, Shenzhen.

In the lobby of Xingchen Headquarters, reporters surrounded Su Chen, microphones and voice recorders extended toward him like a forest.

"CEO Su, the U.S. has lifted sanctions. How does Xingchen view this?"

Su Chen stood in the center of the lobby, wearing a light gray suit, no tie, his sleeves rolled up casually.

He smiled, a kind of calm indifference in that smile: "Welcome. Cooperation is better than confrontation."

He paused, "However, our technology no longer relies on the United States. Whether the sanctions are lifted or not, we are developing regardless."

That evening, Washington.

Raimondo saw the interview footage of Su Chen in her office; that young face on the screen reminded her of something.

She turned off the TV and looked out the window.

The flag on the White House South Lawn billowed in the night wind, lights shining on the flagpole, and the shadow of the Stars and Stripes cast on the lawn looked like a white flag of surrender.

December 10, Shenzhen.

In the Xingchen Aerospace press hall, 3,000 seats were packed.

On the circular screen, 2,000 points of light moved slowly in low Earth orbit; each point of light was a "Nebula 2.0" space server.

They were at an altitude of 550 kilometers, flying at a speed of 7.8 kilometers per second, connected to each other by laser communication links, weaving a net denser and faster than Starlink.

Chu Tianming stood in the center of the stage, behind him the web of computing power currently being woven.

The 62-year-old CEO of Xingchen Aerospace had more white hair than last year, but his back was straight.

"Today, the 'Nebula 2.0' Space Computing Center has completed its deployment."

The big screen lit up with parameters:

Nebula 2.0 Space Computing Center

In-orbit servers: 2,000 units

Single-unit computing power: 1EFLOPS (10 times that of the strongest supercomputer on Earth)

Total computing power: 2000EFLOPS

Comparison: Equivalent to the sum of global ground-based computing power

Energy consumption: Space cryogenic environment, energy consumption 90% lower than on the ground

Latency: Global average 30ms

The 3,000 people below held their breath.

2,000 servers, 20 quintillion floating-point operations per second.

What kind of concept was this?

All data centers, all supercomputers, and all personal computers in the world combined were about this number.

Xingchen, a single company, had replicated the entire Earth's computing power in space.

Chu Tianming paused, his voice calm but every word carried the weight of a thousand jin: "This means that more than half of the world's computing power is in space."

The client list lit up.

On the big screen, rows of company logos lit up one by one—SAP, ASML, Nokia, Ericsson, Sony, Hitachi, NEC, Samsung, SK Hynix.

Of the top 100 technology companies in the world, 92 had already signed.

A reporter from The Wall Street Journal raised a hand, voice somewhat sharp: "CEO Chu, how did U.S. companies bypass the restrictions?"

Chu Tianming smiled: "They have subsidiaries in Europe. The European subsidiaries sign the contracts, and the U.S. parent companies use them. Legal and compliant."

That noon, global media began to go wild.

CNN headline: "Nebula 2.0—Global Computing Power Hegemony Changes Hands."

The BBC's title was more direct: "2,000 Space Servers, Computing Power Equals Earth's Total."

The Yomiuri Shimbun reported: "Japanese companies have all signed; U.S. sanctions exist in name only."

Twitter trending topic "#Nebula 2.0" rushed to number one globally.

Netizens' comments poured in like a tide.

"20 quintillion floating-point operations, the total global computing power. Xingchen has built a computing empire in space."

"The U.S. sanctioned nothingness. Whether they lift sanctions or not, they are developing anyway."

"92 companies signed, U.S. companies take the European detour. Sanctions are a joke."

"From now on, all global computing power is in Xingchen's hands."

That afternoon at 2:00, Washington.

In the emergency hearing on Capitol Hill, the atmosphere was as heavy as a war council.

Secretary of Commerce Raimondo stood at the witness stand, sitting at the long table in front of her were a dozen grim-faced lawmakers.

Senator Tom Cotton slammed the table, his voice as sharp as a whistle: "$50 billion! We demand an appropriation of $50 billion to develop a 'space-based computing alternative plan'!"

Technical expert David Patterson raised his hand, his voice calm but every word was like cold water: "Mr. Senator, $50 billion is not enough. We need at least $100 billion, and ten years."

Cotton froze, his voice suddenly dropping: "Ten years? How long did Xingchen take?"

Patterson smiled bitterly: "Xingchen took three years."

4:00 PM, The Pentagon.

In Secretary of Defense Austin's office, the walls were covered with satellite orbit charts.

Chief of Naval Operations Gilday stood before him, his voice very low: "Xingchen controls the lifeblood of global computing power. If war breaks out, they can cut off any country's computing power."

Austin asked: "Can we counterattack?"

Gilday shook his head: "The satellites are in space. Attacking satellites is declaring war. Besides, they have 2,000. You can't finish them off."

That evening, Twitter trending topic "#Computing Hegemony" rushed to number one globally.

Netizens' comments were as sharp as a scalpel.

"The U.S. Congress appropriated $50 billion, experts say it needs ten years. Xingchen took three years. This is the gap."

"Sanctions, sanctioned themselves into falling behind."

"Whoever controls space computing power in the future controls the Earth. Xingchen won."

"2,000 servers in space, no one can stop them. The U.S. wants to ban it, but they can't."

Su Chen stood in front of his office window, watching the night view of Shenzhen Bay.

Lin Wan pushed the door open and entered, holding a tablet: "The U.S. Congress appropriated $50 billion to develop space-based computing."

Su Chen smiled, a kind of calm in that smile that saw through the outcome: "$50 billion? Ten years?"

He paused, looking out the window.

The moon was hanging above the sea surface, 380,000 kilometers away, astronauts at the "Guanghan Palace" base were using lunar soil bricks to expand the habitat module.

550 kilometers away, 2,000 "Nebula 2.0" servers were silently operating in the vacuum, processing 51% of global computing tasks every second.

And in this office facing the sea, Su Chen said softly: "By the time they build it, we will already be on Mars."

Lin Wan stood beside him, also looking out the window: "What do you think the U.S. will do next?"

Su Chen thought for a moment: "Either admit defeat and join our system. Or continue to confront, and be left behind by the world. There is no third path."

Outside the window, the sea of Shenzhen Bay shimmered with silver light under the moonlight, and the skyline of Hong Kong in the distance was brightly lit.

That gray planet was waiting for humanity's next step, and the 2,000 points of light in space were weaving a net of computing power that covered the entire Earth.