Isaac drove the reactor bay four-wheeler to the power substation at the far end of the bank. He abandoned his tools and dumped the protective gear in the airlock, needing to figure something else out after realizing the new-found reactor was already maintained and well-groomed. Which meant that there wouldn’t be any reduction in power output. With the lifeboat now relying solely on battery power, time was against him to figure out how to connect this thing to the system.

Skidding to a halt, he leaped off the vehicle and rushed into the cage, the reactor’s apple dangling in his overalls pocket. Overhead, wire bundles led up into the ceiling from the four massive transformers within the gated area. He needed to figure out how to dampen what extra power was coming off the new core without risking blowing the transmission equipment up from a surge. If the transformers were destroyed, that would be the end of the lifeboat.

Isaac rushed over to the monitoring equipment and checked how long it would take for the substation to deplete itself of lingering electricity. Despite the fact that the reactor bank was disconnected, it took time for the transmission equipment to entirely de-energize. That would give him a gauge of how long he had to plan out how to fix this problem.

The screen flickered on and took a reading. The measurements came back negative. Isaac stood there, confused. The power flow readings shouldn’t come back negative. That would mean power was coming from the battery banks and flowing into the reactor system, which wasn’t possible given the multitude of back-feed prevention in place. Certain there was some sort of issue with the monitoring equipment, he rebooted.

After the screen flashed with the Endurant’s logo: an inverted green and purple pyramid, the equipment came back online. And the readings were again, negative. The draw was greater than the rest of the lifeboat’s average usage combined. At this rate, the batteries would be depleted in a few hours, at best.

Isaac couldn’t hold back a curse as he looked up and over at the new core. Inside its glass sphere swirled a foreboding green mire. Clouds of emerald danced and swirled. Somehow that thing was draining the lifeboat dry.

The control phone of the monitor rang, startling him and breaking Isaac’s concentrated ire directed at the new core. Without taking his eyes off the reactor bank, he reached down and snatched the receiver off the hook. “Reactor control.” He spoke with a venomous tone.

A baritone voice replied. “This is the bridge; I’m getting multiple low power warnings coming from all decks. What’s going on down there?” It was Sola, acting Commanding Officer of the lifeboat.

“We have an isolation problem with the new core. I’m working the problem.” Isaac felt his mark burn as he spoke with a tinge of fear and anger.

“What’s the ETA?” Sola demanded.

“I don’t know. The solution is still in progress. I’ll let you know as soon as I have something.”

“We’re struggling to keep the lights on in this section of the ship, I need answers now.” Panic laced the officer’s voice.

“We can spend what little time there is left arguing on estimates, or I can get to work.” An unnatural rage tore at Isaac’s innards, stifled by his contempt for the situation.

“…copy. Keep me updated.” Sola hesitated and then hung up the phone.

As soon as Isaac touched the phone receiver to the hook, it began to ring again. But it didn’t sound normal. It was a demented, frantic tone. As if the monitoring station cried out in pain. The rage in his heart was stifled by the terrifying sound, that of the machine itself being tortured. “Reac—”

A woman breathing, on the verge of elated moaning filled Isaac’s ear. The voice overpowered the static otherwise on the line. He stared at the core as the chaos on the other end of the phone continued. Through the emerald mire within the reactor emerged a crimson hand, resting against the glass. Then through the morass, a golden arm with leaf-like scales swaying in the rushing nebula of the core emerged, followed by a pale, emerald-tinged face. The woman’s hair was a chaotic interspersing of gold, red, and purple, long and flowing with the current within the reactor. It was the same face Isaac saw in the battleship’s vault.

The breathing shuddered, growing excited. “Free me.” The voice spoke with an inviting flirtatiousness. Raw feminine energy poured from the phone’s speaker over the cracks and pops of the line noise.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Who are you?” Isaac winced as his chest surged with painful burning.

“You bear his mark.” The woman’s voice was playful, sultry. “Take me… there.” As she spoke, her feminine form pressed against the glass. Her entirety looked as if she were made from various flower petals with a multitude of bright colors.

Isaac squinted as the agony radiating throughout his body sparked a strange intuition. The thought of the light ray shooting across space in the shadow dream raced through his mind. It wasn’t a euphemism, she wanted to go somewhere. “Where is it you want to be?”

A whimsical sigh emanated from the phone. “Free me.” She spoke with a combination of frustration and sadness.

Isaac looked down at the power station monitor and queried the current reactor energy output. Each of the two cores were out of sync. One would rocket beyond safe levels, the other would teeter on the verge of extinction. Then they leveled out and swapped as the readings inverted. He’d never seen anything like this happen. Type-III reactors were self-regulating systems. They weren’t supposed to contend with each other.

Flipping over to the battery bank readings, it became apparent he had to figure out something fast. The reactors somehow already drained over half of the total capacity despite not even being connected to the grid. The lifeboat didn’t even have a few hours. They had minutes, at best.

With a frustrated grunt, Isaac hung the phone up and looked at the transformers. Each of the four was used to convert the power output of individual cores and feed it into the system. The best he could hope to do was connect them all in parallel and divide out the enormous power output among them. He hoped four transformers tied together would be enough to bear the load.

Rolling a bundle of high voltage wire out from the utility shed, he eyeballed the distance between each of the connections between the transformers, not having a measuring tape on hand. He sliced with his wiring multitool, which was held with two hands like a bolt cutter and allowed the safe handling of live wire. He bound positive terminals to each other in a mesh, then the same for negative. One wrong move in either touching the cable with his skin or letting it hit the floor and it would pan-sear him to oblivion. Finally all the transformers were linked together after severing the outbound terminals for each, save for two, one serving as the positive connection and the other, the negative.

With only a minute or two left on the battery, Isaac raced over to the control station to reconnect the reactor bank to the system. The lights dimmed and flickered from low power as he entered the station and readied to toggle the hard throw lever to reengage the reactor bank. The low power warning distorted as the station’s controls couldn’t keep themselves fully energized.

Gritting his teeth and bracing himself, Isaac wrapped his fingers around the handle and slammed it back into the ‘engaged’ position. Then the lights went out. The dull hum of the bay’s ventilation quieted. All he could hear was his own breathing in the vast silence that permeated everything. Unwilling to give up, he slammed the handle into the off position and back again. No dice. Isaac screamed in anger, trying repeatedly to no avail.

Behind him, the glow of the new reactor core ignited. In defeat, Isaac ceased his useless tantrum, shuffled over to the monitoring station door, and gazed out. What lingered within the glass was no longer a thick soup swirling, but the meadow and multi-colored oak was visible, illuminating the bay with its golden glow. Before the tree was a giant orchid bobbing in the core’s breeze. It was half as tall as the oak, and almost as wide.

From Isaac’s periphery, he spotted a luminance in his pocket. He pulled out the core fruit that he’d retrieved from the oak. Though much dimmer than the reactor, it still gave off a deep red glow that reflected off the metallic walls of the control room. Isaac sensed the woman still within the core. The orchid tilted in his direction as he felt her desire, wanting him to eat it.

The combination of his growling stomach and the encroaching cold in the bay brought about a resigned compliance. As he raised the apple to his lips, the giant flower perked up with a measured pace. Isaac opened his mouth and hoped that whatever kind of radioactivity this thing had would put him out of his misery faster.

As his teeth sank into the fruit and peeled away flesh, the rest of the apple vanished. Isaac’s mouth was filled with the flavors of chicken and ice cream. It was a strange combination, but not unpleasant. The texture was crisp, the crunch of the fruit’s flesh and tautness of the skin was inoffensive. After swallowing it, Isaac found himself strangely satisfied, as if he ate a full meal.

Then the sound of blood rushing pulsed through his ears and the ground began to spin under him. He latched onto the door frame to keep himself from falling over. Throbbing filled his chest as his heart raced, threatening to burst. He felt something leaking from the mark, a hot viscous fluid. His ears were overpowered by his unrelenting heartbeat as he could no longer hold himself upright. Isaac fell to one knee, weakened. Unlike the radiation scare, this time he wasn’t resigned to death. He was resentful; rage permeated every fiber of his being.

After a moment, the lights turned on and the ground beneath him stopped spinning. As the blood rushing in his ears subsided, he heard the ventilation pushing air throughout the reactor bay again. The agony in his chest eased for the first time since the dream. But the relief found from a sudden lack of pain was replaced with anxiety from his decision to eat the reactor fruit.

Behind, the monitoring station phone began to ring, causing a startle. Isaac pulled himself to his feet and stumbled over to the chair before picking up the phone with weak, shaking hands.

“R—reactor control.” Issac spoke with beleaguered breath.

“All systems returned to normal, good work.” Sola’s voice boomed. “Can you confirm the situation on your end?”

Isaac turned and flipped on the status monitor. As he observed the readings, his eyes widened in panic. “We’ve got a problem.”