Rec Lounge 2 of the research station was usually the favored spot of all the station workers. Equipped with a bar, TVs, cozy chairs, and a small library of books and board games, it was the best of the few places in the station where workers could gather to relax and socialize. At the moment, however, its popularity was at an all-time low.

Probably on account of the giant, glittering, pulsating black fungus that had settled in there.

Alix pushed through the crowd that was watching from the lounge’s entry. Over the last few hours since the nano-fungus has spoken to through Figaro, every speck of the fungus that had spread throughout the station had retreated to this single room. Even condensed as it was, it took up half the lounge.

“Sick,” Figaro said from his spot on Alix’s shoulder. “It looks like a Rathulian lagoon squid.”

Alix looked at him. “A what?”

“Y’know, when we went to . . . wait, no, we’ve never been there. I don’t even know where ‘there’ is.” Figaro stamped a limb in frustration. “Stupid stolen memories!”

“How can you have a memory from the nanobots, but no idea what they’re doing here?”

“Beats me.” Figaro shrugged. “Just got a bunch of random impressions, images, an idea or two. It’s not like I’ve got a copy of their memories downloaded in my head, it’s just some random junk floating in my memory chips, all outta order.”

“Huh. Well, I’d kill to know what a Rathulian lagoon squid is,” said Alix.

“And I’d kill to know how pumping this thing full of electricity is going to solve our problems.” Figaro pointed at the nano-fungus.

A few others who’d been listening voiced their agreement. Some were of the mind that it was time to cut their losses and evacuate, some were still huddled in their labs cooking up ideas to kill the nano-fungus, but most had simply gathered to observe, holding onto the hope that Alix knew what she was doing. And she did. Mostly.

“It’s what they said they needed,” Alix reminded Figaro. “And it makes sense. They’re nanobots. If they’re having an energy crisis, that spells their doom.”

“An energy crisis from not having electricity of all things? They’re not very impressive nanobots if they aren’t even solar-powered,” Figaro scoffed. “And how do we know how much of a charge to give ‘em, exactly?”

“Oh, my friend, it’ll be enough.” A gleeful smile split Alix’s face. “We’re gonna give them all we’ve got. And I know just the thing to do the job.”

Figaro tilted his head. “What?”

“You’ll see in a second. Lyle and Maisie should be wheeling it over right about now,” said Alix.

A few minutes later, the crowd began to part for Lyle, Maisie, and the cylindrical starship electrical core they were wheeling in on a dolly.

Figaro’s eye lenses shot out. “You’re crazy.”

“I’m brilliant.” Alix rubbed her hands together.

“That thing’s meant to power a whole ass starship!”

“Yes. And now we’re gonna empty it into our new, nanoscopic buddies.”

The starship core was as tall as Lyle and twice as wide. Wires looped around its silvery surface like neon veins. It weighed well over four hundred pounds. Even with the help of the maintenance team and the dolly, it couldn’t have been a small feat removing it from the evac ship and wheeling it all the way here. As Lyle and Maisie pushed the massive core forward into the lounge, Alix could see the exertion on their faces, flushed red and beaded with sweat.

“This. Is. Some. Bullshit,” Maisie said between huffs of breath.

“The maintenance crew was supposed to help you guys! Where are they?” Alix asked them, following them into the lounge.

Lyle helped Maise bring the dolly to a stop before answering. “Passed out in the hall. You know we had to lug this thing upstairs, right?”

“Ah, right. No elevators. But that won’t be a problem for long.” Alix grinned and ran her hand over the core. Because an evac starship had to be ready to go at any moment, this bad boy was fully charged. She had tens of thousands of glorious volts at her disposal. All it would take was two flips of its switches.

“I feel like this has the potential to go really wrong, really fast,” said Figaro.

Alix waved his concerns away. “Don’t worry, Fig. I know what I’m doing. I took an electrical engineering class my freshman year of high school.”

Lyle wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. Locks of hair hung around his face. “You cleared this with Director Werner, right?”

“Er.” Alix paused. “Not entirely. Or at all. But as the ancients said, it’s better to beg forgiveness than it is to ask permission. So let’s power this sucker up before the Director gets wind of things.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The nano-fungus pulsed aggressively, as if in agreement.

“I’m still confused about this whole mess,” said Maisie. She stared down the nano-fungus with a faint grimace. “It’s not like it has a charging slot.”

“Fungi like this can carry electrical current.” Lyle began unlooping cords from the core.

“And the nanobots have been able to interface with station systems enough to at least siphon some power,” Alix added. “As evidenced by how much of our tech they left totally drained.”

Figaro kept his eye lenses squarely on the nano-fungus. “I hope this doesn’t kick-start some sort of new, Godzilla phase of their evolution.”

“Enough jibber-jabber!” Alix grabbed a handful of cords from Lyle and pulled them over to the nano-fungus. “Time to get this party started.”

Alix, Lyle, and Maisie quickly set to work lodging the ends of the cords into different points of the nano-fungus. It felt odd just sticking it against the slimy-smooth surface, but around every cord they offered, the nano-fungus surged forward to envelop it. Clusters of nanobots, mere glittering specks to the naked eye, all gravitated to the cords. Once they had attached every cord available, Lyle and Maisie both hurried out of the lounge.

Alix looked back at them, standing next to the core mere feet away from the nano-fungus. “What, you guys don’t want front-row seats?”

“This is front-row enough for me,” said Lyle. “And I think you ought to join us here the second you flip those switches.”

“Ah, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Alix glanced down at Figaro on her shoulder. “What about you? You gonna go take cover?”

“I’m a ride-or-die bitch, Boss.” Figaro shrugged. “But if this thing goes Godzilla, you’re on your own.”

“Fair enough. Let’s do this!” Alix swung around to the other side of the core and flipped the first switch with a flourish.

The red lights lining the core blinked as power began to surge from it through the cords. As the currents flowed into the nano-fungus, the glittering clusters of nanobots began to glow.

The observing crowd launched into hushed exclamations and exchanges. From farther down the hall, Director Werner’s faint shouts echoed.

“I’VE JUST HEARD WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND I SAY NO! UNPLUG IT! SHUT IT DOWN! YOU’RE GONNA SET THE STATION ON FIRE, THIS IS NOT STANDARD PROCEDURE—”

Alix ignored him and flipped the second switch. The nanobots’ glow grew brighter and brighter until the entire lounge was alight with white light.

Figaro covered his eyes. “Don’t go Godzilla, don’t go Godzilla, don’t go Godzilla . . .”

A high-pitched whine rang in the air. The clusters of nanobots began to vibrate furiously as the starship core sparked and sputtered.

The nano-fungus then flashed so blindingly bright that Alix had to shield her eyes.

All at once, the noise stopped. Everything was still. Alix rubbed her eyes, adjusting as the room returned to its normal light.

When she was able to see clearly again, she was met with the sight of the nano-fungus, the same as before.

For a moment, at least.

As soon as Alix had time to register the sight, the nano-fungus began to change. It flattened onto the ground, pulsing and shifting until it had split itself into six equal blobs. Then, in defiance of everything Alix had ever known or seen, the blobs slowly stretched and shifted until each blob was in the vague shape of a human.

Their skin was glittering black. They were each just a touch taller than Alix. While their bodies lacked the definition and exact details of a human’s, Alix could make out the vague outlines of mouths, noses, and ears on their faces. Then, in sync, their eyes opened. The eyes were just a little too big for their faces, round and shining, with synthetic purple irises and dilated pupils.

The creatures looked around at the room, at Alix and Figaro, and at each other. They seemed in awe and on the verge of tears, if such creatures were even capable of weeping.

After a stunned moment, the one at the head of the group, locked eyes with Alix.

“Well. That,” he said, his voice heavy with a mechanical twinge. “Was a very unpleasant thousand years we just had.”

***

“I . . . am wildly confused,” said Alix, once she’d recovered enough for words.

The rest of the station had crowded into the lounge, staring at the creatures in utter shock. Director Werner in particular looked as though the last couple of minutes had just aged him by an additional century.

“You just saved my crew and me from the worst kind of death. An explanation is the least of what I owe you. To begin with, my name is Ixaer,” the leader of the creatures said, then paused as though confused. “I mean, I think I’m Ixaer. After being melded so long, it’s hard to know what memories are mine or theirs.”

“Hello, guy who may or may not be Ixaer. As you already seem to know, I’m Alix,” said Alix. “And if you don’t mind my cutting to the chase, what are you, what are you doing on this planet, etc.”

“Well, we are Metamorphs, of course,” Ixaer said. He waited for them to react, then grew surprised at the lack of recognition among the station workers. “Surely you know of us!”

“Have your kind come into contact with humans before?” Lyle asked Ixaer.

“Not directly, but you are obviously a space-faring species. And what space-faring species have not heard of Metamorphs?”

Figaro chortled. “I hate to break it to you, pal, but we’re part of an entire collective of space-faring species, and none of ‘em have ever mentioned you.”

One of the other Metamorph's jaw dropped. “This can’t be true. I know we’ve been stranded a long time, but things can’t have changed that much!”

The one next to him nodded at Alix. “Humans are space-faring now. Things have definitely changed that much.”

Ixaer, though clearly disturbed, grew distracted when he noticed Figaro on Alix’s shoulder. He took a step closer and put his hand where a heart would be. “You. You are the robot that interfaced with us. You risked a great deal by doing that.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Figaro grumbled. “It wasn’t exactly fun for me.”

“I don’t doubt that. But your brave act saved our lives. We are forever grateful.” Ixaer kneeled and bowed his head, and the other Metamorphs quickly followed suit.

“Ah, well, it was nothing, really,” Figaro said, before pointing at the Metamorphs and turning to glare at the nearby station workers. “Take notes, meatbags!”

Ixaer rose again. “I’m sure you all have questions. If I’m going to address them all, I’d best start at the beginning. When our starship crashed . . .”