The "tomorrow" arrived without a dawn. In space, time was merely a sequence of ventilation cycles and LED light flickers.
Leo was on the bridge of the USC Aether. It was a circular room, dominated by holographic screens that now displayed the desolate panorama outside. He brought the second energy bar to his mouth, chewing with mechanical efficiency.
His mind reviewed the discoveries from the previous night. Insomnia had been productive. While fiddling with the interface in the darkness of his cabin, he had found a collapsed sub-menu under the "Thermodynamics" tab.
[EXTERNAL ENERGY PROCESSING: UNLOCKED]
[ACCEPTED SOURCES: THERMAL, NUCLEAR, HIGH-VOLTAGE ELECTRICAL]
[REQUIREMENT: DIRECT PHYSICAL CONTACT FOR CONDUCTION]
This changed everything. He was no longer limited by what he ate, but by what he could touch. If he could withstand the flow without frying his nervous system, he could use his body as a giant battery.
He had food left for forty-eight hours, but now he knew what he had to do.
"Critical status report," he ordered, swallowing the last bite.
"The phase camouflage is devouring the auxiliary batteries at a rate of 4% per hour," the AI reported. The static in its voice betrayed a simulated, yet effective, tension. "Upon reaching 0%, the Aether will shine like a supernova across the entire electromagnetic spectrum."
"Estimated time?"
"Twenty-five hours until total concealment system failure."
Leo nodded. Twenty-five hours until they became a sitting duck for any alien vessel still patrolling the area.
"The main reactor is intact," the AI continued, "but the plasma injector was damaged during the uncontrolled exit from hyperspace. Without that part, we cannot generate enough power to maintain the camouflage and the engines simultaneously."
"We need a replacement."
"There are no spare parts onboard."
Leo approached the main screen. The ring of debris surrounding Earth glowed with a ghostly sheen, illuminated by the distant sun.
"There are thousands of destroyed ships out there," Leo murmured. "The biggest graveyard in history. There has to be a compatible injector."
"The probability of finding an operational piece of Cygnus technology among primitive human wreckage is less than 0.0001%," the AI objected.
Leo reached into his pocket and brushed the steel sphere he had created earlier. It was perfect, yes, but useless. A hundred-gram bolt could not replace a half-ton injector. The Law of Conservation of Matter was absolute: he couldn't create something from nothing. He needed mass. A lot of mass.
"It doesn't need to be compatible," Leo said, releasing the sphere and looking at the floating wreckage. "I just need raw material. Tons of it. I'll make it fit."-----Leo sat in the captain's chair and activated the tactical console.
"Open hangar door," he commanded.
On the main holographic screen, the view changed. The hull's steel separated with a silent hiss of decompression, revealing the starry abyss. Vigil propelled itself into the void, its ionized gas thrusters leaving a faint trail.
The image on the bridge was crisp. Leo saw what the drone saw, projected in high definition before his eyes.
He ventured into the debris field.
The carnage was silent. He floated past the remains of satellites, chunks of skyscrapers torn away and frozen in the vacuum, and shattered orbital vehicles. He saw bodies. Hundreds of them. Astronauts, pilots, civilians who tried to flee in shuttles that never managed to leave the atmosphere. They floated like broken dolls, eternally preserved by the absolute cold.
Leo suppressed a wave of nausea. Concentrate. Look for energy.
"Detecting radiation signature," the AI whispered in his ear. "Two kilometers away. Remains of a UN Valkyria-class destroyer."
Vigil turned, its gas thrusters maneuvering through a shower of twisted metal.
There it was. The destroyer's stern was sectioned, exposing the ship's guts. The engine core still emitted a faint, bluish, dying glow.
"The flux converter," Leo identified. "It's primitive, dirty, and radioactive."
"It is incompatible," the AI insisted. "If you try to connect it to the Aether's core, it will cause a catastrophic overload."
"Vigil, take it."
The drone extended its mechanical arms. A cutting laser flashed on its right appendage, slicing the rusted bolts holding the cylinder. There was a flash of molten metal, and the piece broke free. Vigil's claws caught it before it floated away.
"Initiating return," the machine confirmed.-----Thirty minutes later, the dirty, dented cylinder lay on the floor of the Aether's engine room.
Leo knelt before it. Beside him, the alien ship's original injector lay disassembled: a fractured work of crystal and light.
"This is madness," the AI said. "Agent, I strongly recommend you step away. The isotopic instability..."
"Silence," Leo ordered.
He placed one hand on the human converter and the other on the alien injector.
He closed his eyes.
[ATOMIC MANIPULATION SYSTEM: ONLINE]
The world became a map of blue structures. He saw the titanium atoms of the human converter, rough and misaligned. He saw the perfect crystalline lattice of Cygnus technology.
He had to fuse them. He had to cheat physics.
"Modify," he thought.
[ENERGY SOURCE DETECTED: CHERENKOV RADIATION (VALKYRIA CORE)]
[EXTERNAL COST (PROCESS): 4.2 GIGAJOULES]
"Absorb and integrate," he commanded mentally.
Leo felt the initial tug on his own reserves, the spark that lit the fuse. But then, the flow reversed. The System didn't suck his blood; it sucked the death from the reactor.
The ionizing radiation that should have killed him was sucked through his hands, filtered, and redirected into the matter.
A distortion wave erupted. The metal of the human converter liquefied, flowing like living mercury. The radioactive grime didn't disappear; it became fuel.
Leo screamed, not from pain, but from the electric sensation of being a human conductor for the power of a small nuclear plant. When he finished, he fell backward, slightly smoking. His body was intact but exhausted from the effort of channeling such a torrent.
On the floor, the piece shone with a new light. A perfect hybrid. Human and alien technology fused into one.
"Analysis complete," the AI's voice fractured into static for the first time. "Component efficiency: 104%. Compatibility: Absolute. This rewrites three fundamental laws of thermodynamics."
"Install it," Leo gasped, unable to get up. "And give me... give me water."-----An hour later, the ship's hum changed. It became deeper, more powerful. The bridge lights stopped flickering and stabilized into a pure white.
"Phase camouflage at 100%," the AI reported. "Reactors stable. We have indefinite autonomy. And..."
"And what?" Leo was sitting in the captain's chair, slowly eating his third bar.
"By boosting the sensors with the new injector, we have cut through the planet's radiation interference."
A red dot blinked on the holographic map of the solar system.
"What is that?" Leo asked, leaning forward.
"A signal," the AI said. "Narrow-band frequency, old encryption. Signature foreign to the enemy fleet."
"Human?"
"Yes. High-frequency Morse code. It repeats every twelve seconds."
Leo looked at the signal's origin. It wasn't coming from Earth.
The red dot blinked on the grey, dead surface of the Moon.
"Translate it," Leo ordered.
The AI processed the beeps.
"'... THIS IS LUNAR BASE TYCHO. IS ANYONE LEFT? ... REPEAT ... IS ANYONE LEFT? ...'"
Leo felt a knot in his throat. They weren't alone.
"Plot a course," he said, standing up and forgetting his exhaustion. "We're going to the Moon."