At 3:27 in the morning, in the maintenance area on the ground floor of the Tianqiong-3 space station, in front of the seventh information filtering wall monitoring terminal. Lin Shen stared at the steady flow of blue-green data on the screen, his eyelids as heavy as lead.
The thermos cup in the tea room is still warm, and the condensed water droplets on the wall of the cup are slowly sliding down, making an almost inaudible ticking sound in the dim computer room. Fatty Chen, who was in the next work station, was leaning on his chair and snoring, with drool flowing from the corner of his mouth to the dusty collar of his work clothes, completely unaware of all this. Seven years.
It has been seven years since I graduated from the Station Technical College and was assigned to this position.
The daily job is to stare at these data and ensure that the filter wall of the information cocoon room algorithm runs smoothly. Which news should be pushed to the upper cabin, which entertainment content should be distributed to the middle-class residents, and which survival guidelines and regulations should be instilled in the lower-level workers.
