Chapter 80

At an altitude of ten thousand meters, the problem for turbojet engines is not too significant. However, for the simulation aircraft, improvements must be made in two aspects.

One is the signal issue. The original simulation aircraft operates at an altitude of about one to three thousand meters, with data transmission distances designed accordingly. At ten thousand meters, the video and control signal transmission power must be increased.

The second is the engine intake efficiency. The air is thin at high altitudes, so to obtain sufficient intake volume, a two-stage moving and stationary blade compressor must be added to the front of the small turbojet engine, increasing the air pressure entering the combustion chamber by one to two times compared to the original small turbojet engine.

With these two improvements, the original simulation aircraft can be scaled up proportionally, carrying more fuel and a larger-diameter small turbojet engine, allowing it to fly at ten thousand meters.

Hu Wenhui walked around the somewhat peculiar simulation aircraft and nodded in satisfaction—after all, a group of experienced workers at levels six, seven, and eight wouldn't produce anything subpar, would they?

The simulation aircraft was called peculiar because there was a large gap in the middle of its fuselage, seemingly designed to carry something.

Coincidentally, next to the simulation aircraft was a clearly unfinished object. From its appearance, it was evident that once completed, it would fit into the gap in the simulation aircraft's belly.

This unfinished object had an olive-shaped form, with an open top that seemed to be awaiting the installation of some equipment. There was a slit-like window in the middle of the olive, inside which a pair of triangular wings was stored. At the rear of the olive were four trapezoidal tail fins.

Indeed, anyone with a bit of common knowledge would immediately think of a "winged bomb" upon seeing this olive-shaped object.

And this winged bomb was currently trailing a long wire, like an umbilical cord, connected to the adjacent simulation aircraft.

Actually, it couldn't be called a simulation aircraft anymore. The true purpose of a simulation aircraft is to mimic a real aircraft, but this one clearly had no real aircraft to mimic. Instead, it was a newly designed aircraft based on its power system.

It had a wingspan of two to three meters, a sleek and elongated fuselage, twin tail fins, and a ventral fin. The camera, originally placed in the cockpit, was moved to the top of the aircraft's nose, eliminating the obstruction of the pilot's view.

The twin small turbojet engines had their intakes placed on the aircraft's back. This was to account for the complex takeoff environments of drones, which sometimes need to follow military units. Placing the intakes on the back reduces the risk of ingesting foreign objects during takeoff. Since drones generally don't perform extreme maneuvers, this placement doesn't cause insufficient intake during high-mobility actions.

Yes, after these modifications, the so-called simulation aircraft was no longer a true simulation. One might say that Hu Wenhui's makeshift model finally qualified as a drone.

Putting aside the details, after confirming that the carrier aircraft met his requirements, Hu Wenhui called over Bai Shi and two others, pointing to the unfinished bomb and said, "Director Bai, next we'll install the receiver in this bomb and conduct ground tests."

"Bomb?" Bai Shi looked at the unfinished bomb, which was at least half a meter long, and showed a troubled expression. "Mr. Hu, our receiver wasn't designed for bombs. I'm afraid it might be difficult to secure it..."

"Hehe, don't worry about that," Hu Wenhui said, patting the bomb. "This thing is just a shell, with plenty of space inside. Remember, optimizing space and designing weapons are not our jobs. We don't make weapons, understand?"

"Uh, I understand..."

Bai Shi's mind was a mess, but he said he understood, even though he didn't really get what Hu Wenhui meant. You're about to install a laser receiver in a bomb and say you're not making a weapon? Who are you trying to fool?

Hu Wenhui, however, didn't think his logic was hard to understand. After all, he had no intention of becoming China's Lockheed or Northrop.

Supplying military enterprises is one thing, but directly supplying the military is another. Just look at Huawei in the future; they did nothing, yet were labeled as Chinese spies and kicked out by the Americans.

If Hu Wenhui wanted to expand his business globally, he needed to present himself as harmless, like a little white rabbit.

As for whether the white rabbit eats carrots or meat...

Oh, hehehehe.

Regardless of whether Bai Shi understood or not, he had to get the job done under Hu Wenhui's direction. Fortunately, the bomb was designed with the installation of a guidance head in mind, with many internal interfaces left for easy mounting.

Bai Shi, along with his two research assistants, approached the task with a "make do with what you have" attitude. They used existing mounting points and even resorted to glue and paste when necessary. The CCD lens at the front of the bomb was fixed to the body with silicone glue...

With this "if there's a will, there's a way" spirit, they managed to install the laser receiver inside the bomb.

While Bai Shi and the others were busy, Hu Wenhui wasn't idle. He pulled an extension cord from the simulation aircraft's control booth—yes, this setup had evolved. Initially, it was placed in the meeting room of Factory 501, but as it became smaller and more functional, it was moved outdoors. Now, a small wooden house had been built next to the runway, housing a control panel specifically designed for drones, not a replica of a real aircraft's cockpit.

Hu Wenhui plugged in the extension cord and, with an Apple Macintosh computer in hand, squatted by the runway, braving the cold wind to type on the keyboard.

The Macintosh's printer port was connected to a 64-pin PC104 bus, which in turn was linked to a microcontroller inside the bomb.

As Hu Wenhui typed, the four tail fins of the bomb began to move.

No need to ask, the entire laser guidance system, including the laser scattering positioning, was his work, so naturally, the interface program was also his responsibility.

His current task was to convert the operational data from the infrared guidance head into the guidance law for the bomb. The guidance law, for example, determines how the control surfaces should adjust if the bomb needs to change its angle by 10 degrees, and for how long.

Since the aerodynamic conditions of each flying object are different, their guidance laws are also unique.

If one were to study the guidance law in depth, it could easily result in a hundred or more research papers for a single bomb or drone model.

Hu Wenhui, of course, didn't have the time to do such detailed calculations and tests. Fortunately, the bomb didn't need its own specific guidance law. The purpose of studying guidance laws is to achieve precise guidance and handle various unexpected situations. For a test, he didn't need to consider so many special cases.

So, as long as the bomb could operate according to ideal data in clear, windless conditions, it would be fine. If the guidance head's requirements weren't met, he could simply issue another command.

If the guidance head required a 10-degree right turn, but the bomb only turned 3 degrees, he would issue a 7-degree turn command. If it then turned 5 degrees, he would issue a 2-degree turn command.

If the guidance law was insufficient, he could compensate with the guidance head. After all, it was just a test bomb, so he didn't need to worry too much about the details.

The cold winter wind in Northeast China felt like knives, but Hu Wenhui squatted by the runway, working on the Macintosh for over an hour to connect the guidance head and the bomb's control system.

This wasn't the end. On his command, Bai Shi turned on the laser target designator, directing a 1.06-micron near-infrared beam, invisible to the human eye, toward a wall at the end of the runway.

Immediately, without any visible action from Hu Wenhui, the tail fins of the bomb, now equipped with the guidance head, moved to a new angle!

Following Hu Wenhui's commands, Bai Shi operated the laser target designator, moving the invisible laser beam along the wall.

The bomb's body, like a puppet on strings, adjusted its tail fins in response to the laser.

"Wow, amazing, it really moved!" Hao Mingshan, a seasoned veteran in the military industry, was impressed. He had never seen such a miraculous technology!

"Does this thing understand human commands? It's almost like it has a mind of its own!"

"Ha ha ha, even you, Bai Quanyi, have your moments of doubt? This is called laser guidance, high-tech from abroad!" Hu Shiwu laughed, seizing the opportunity to tease his old friend.

"Tch," Bai Quanyi pouted, muttering, "What a show-off!"

Bai Quanyi moved away from Hu Shiwu, not wanting to argue with the old man—just because he has a genius grandson, what's the big deal? I'll have my son have another one! I heard the military is conducting some experiments and issuing quotas for second children...

Hu Shiwu's arrogance didn't dampen the enthusiasm of the old men. They gathered around Hu Wenhui and the bomb, marveling at the seemingly magical scene. As veterans of the military industry, they gradually realized the significance of this technology.

Think about it, during the Korean War, American planes dropped bombs that flattened entire mountains, yet our soldiers continued to fight. But with this kind of weapon, if the enemy could drop bombs directly into the trenches of the Volunteer Army, how could the war continue?

Wait, come to think of it, there is a group of Vietnamese aggressors in the south of our country right now. The old men's thoughts drifted to the southern border, where a group of reckless Vietnamese were causing trouble.