The red light on the control panel flashed three times, as if giving a secret signal.
Chen Hao was squatting on the ground checking the heating pipe connections when he heard the alarm. He looked up, casually stuffed the wrench into his pocket, and before he could stand up straight, Nana's voice rang out from behind him.
"Fuel reserves remain at 41%."
He stopped what he was doing, frowning. "How long has it been? Everything was fine yesterday?"
"The wind dropped to below level three at night, and the power generation was less than 37% of the design value." She switched the screen, and data scrolled by like a waterfall. "The heating system automatically activated the fuel compensation mode, and the consumption rate exceeded expectations."
Chen Hao plopped down on the edge of the control panel, leaving a gray stain on his work pants. He stared at the string of numbers for two seconds, then suddenly chuckled, "Goodness, he just boasted that he wasn't a project manager, and now he's going to be a purchasing agent."
"Task priority has been updated."
“I know, I know, don’t read the list.” He waved his hand, took the curled map off the wall and spread it on the table. “We can’t rely on this stockpile to get through to spring. We need to go out and find some ‘extra money’.”
Nana's projection shifted slightly, and the satellite image was overlaid on the old map, where a red dot began to flash in the southeast direction.
“R7 transfer station, marked as a Level 2 abandoned facility, last operated three years ago. Structural integrity rating: C, with a risk of partial collapse.”
"As long as there's oil, we don't need it to withstand earthquakes." Chen Hao circled the dot with his pen. "Let's go try our luck."
Ten minutes later, the off-road vehicle drove out of the base gate, its tracks making a muffled sound as they rolled over the frozen ground. A toolbox and two empty spare fuel tanks were strapped to the back of the vehicle. Chen Hao sat in the passenger seat, munching on half a compressed biscuit, his cheeks puffing out.
"These days, you have to bring your own food when you go out to work. What's the point?"
"You have not signed any labor contract."
"So this is all unpaid work?" He swallowed the last bite and brushed the crumbs off. "Then I demand reimbursement for emotional distress—at the rate of one joke per minute."
Nana didn't respond, and the navigation route suddenly changed, with a moving yellow area marked on the edge of the screen.
"A sandstorm has appeared 17 kilometers ahead, with a diameter of about 1.2 kilometers. It is expected to intersect with the path of travel in 15 minutes."
"Couldn't we pick a sunny day to cause trouble?" Chen Hao turned to look out the window. The sky was overcast, and the wind was already pushing pebbles against the car window. "Go around it?"
"The only passable area has been covered; forcibly detouring will lead to quicksand."
"That means we have no choice but to force our way in."
"It is recommended to close the air vents and fasten your seat belts."
The car slowed down, and sand began to pelt the windshield with a crackling sound, like someone was pouring coarse salt through a sieve. Visibility quickly dropped to less than five meters, the temperature drop indicator on the dashboard lit up, and the engine sounded strained.
"The chassis temperature is rising, and the heat dissipation efficiency is decreasing," Nana pointed out.
Chen Hao leaned forward to look: "Is it stopped up ahead?"
"The vehicle is stuck in shallow quicksand, and the drive wheels are slipping."
He unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbed his helmet, and walked out: "I'll go take a look."
The wind was stronger than he expected, nearly knocking him off his feet. He bent over and went around to the back of the car, squatted down and shoveled some sand into the ground. Sure enough, the rear wheel was already slack in. He tried stepping on the surrounding ground; it was as soft as moldy bread.
“No, it won’t work.” He wiped his face when he came back, his nostrils full of ash. “If it keeps burning, the engine will be totaled.”
“Main power has been cut off, and the positioning beacon has been activated,” Nana said. “Walking to R7, it’s 3.6 kilometers away.”
"Hiking?" He paused for a moment, then looked down at his legs. "Am I fit for long-distance hiking?"
"Not suitable, but feasible."
"That's really comforting."
They left the vehicle behind, shouldered portable toolkits and GPS devices, and set off. The wind was still blowing, sand and dust clung to their faces, and they took one step forward while taking half a step back. Chen Hao was panting like a broken bellows, and he had to rest three times along the way, each time not wanting to get up again after sitting down.
How much further?
"The straight-line distance is 1.8 kilometers."
"A straight line? You think I can fly?"
Nana ignored him, and the screen continued to refresh the terrain data, guiding him to avoid several soft areas. Finally, in the third hour, a crooked metal frame came into view.
At the R7 transfer station, only half a wall remained, the roof had collapsed in half, and pry-marked covers and broken chains were scattered on the ground. Chen Hao kicked aside a tin can at his feet and sneered, "A thief has been here."
“Trace analysis shows that the most recent human activity occurred within the last 48 hours.” Nana scanned the surroundings and found thirteen signs of tampering, and the oil tanks were completely emptied.
"They didn't even leave us a single bucket?" Chen Hao looked around the ruins, his gaze landing on a pile of collapsed bricks and stones on the west side. "What about over there?"
"The surface density is abnormal, and there may be a closed container underneath."
He grabbed a shovel and rushed over, digging for less than ten minutes when the shovel clanged against something hard. He knelt on the ground and dug through the sand with his hands, revealing the edge of a rusty oil drum.
"Got it!" He grinned and continued digging furiously.
Nana operated the robotic arm to clear the heavy objects above. A concrete slab was so compacted that she had to increase the power to barely move it. Chen Hao, covered in sweat and with mud under his fingernails, finally managed to drag out the first bucket.
"Sealing test?" he asked.
"The barrel is intact, and the residual fuel purity is 78%, so it is usable."
"What about the second bucket?"
After digging for another twenty minutes, a second bucket appeared, in the same condition. Finally, at a deeper depth, only half a bucket was found, with a slightly deformed outer shell, but Nana confirmed after testing that it could be repaired through filtration.
"That's enough." Chen Hao plopped down on the ground, panting. "These three buckets will last for five days, until the wind picks up again."
"The return route has been replanned to avoid the quicksand area."
They strapped the oil drums to the folding transport frame, Nana started the auxiliary wheels, and Chen Hao carried the heaviest drum in front. The wind didn't stop, the sky grew darker, and the thermometer readings kept dropping.
Halfway there, he began to stagger, his shoulders chafing painfully from the edge of the bucket. He changed his posture, switching from his left shoulder to his right, and nearly fell into the pit.
"If you crash right now, I'll dismantle you and burn you for firewood."
"My core power supply is stable."
"That's good." He was panting heavily. "I was hoping you'd come back alive and get credit for me."
The two walked for a while and then rested. The wheels of the transport frame got stuck twice, but Nana adjusted the angle in time to free them each time. Chen Hao kept complaining, but his hands never let go of the oil drum handle.
The outline of the base finally appeared in the distance, and the signal lights on the wall flashed. Chen Hao saw that the familiar iron gate was still open, and he managed to squeeze out a sentence: "At least... it wasn't a wasted trip."
Nana remotely triggered the gate pre-opening program, and the hydraulic rod slowly rose. They pushed the oil drum step by step into the underground storage channel. After confirming the seal, Chen Hao slid down to the ground against the wall, his chest heaving violently.
"The current total fuel reserves can support 153 hours of heating," Nana said.
He nodded, closed his eyes for a moment, and then suddenly opened them.
"We still need to clean the drainage ditch tomorrow."
Before he could finish speaking, a muffled thud came from above, like a piece of sheet metal being blown off the roof by the wind. He didn't move, but simply pointed to the drawings pasted on the inside of the door—the design drawings for the aluminum foil cover to be used tomorrow, the edges already curled up by the wind.
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