The model of the observation cabin rotated a frame slower on the screen. Chen Hao stared at it for three seconds, then reached out and tapped the edge of the monitor. The image flickered, then returned to normal.
"It didn't crash, did it?" he asked.
Nana stood beside the terminal, her finger swiping across the interface. "Data reception delay is 62%, signal strength is below the threshold. Preliminary assessment indicates that sediment cover is obstructing the sensor."
"In other words, that thing was buried." Chen Hao leaned back in his chair, his head against the wall. "We only put it down less than twenty hours ago."
Susan looked up from the incubator, still holding her recording tablet. "The seabed is inherently unstable, and with yesterday's undercurrents, it's quite remarkable that we've survived this long."
Carl took off his headphones and placed them on the corner of the table. "How about we dig some up on the next mission? We can't get the data now anyway."
“No,” Susan shook her head. “Last night’s pulse signal showed that there was continuous energy fluctuation in that area. If we miss this acquisition window, we may have to wait another 72 hours to reactivate it.”
Chen Hao sighed and put his foot down from the control panel. "So we have no choice but to let it clear the silt by itself?"
“We can try.” Nana pulled up a topographic map. “The location where we deployed yesterday has a slight slope, so theoretically, we can use low-frequency vibrations to remove the surface mud and sand.”
"Then let's set an alarm." Chen Hao slammed his hand on the table. "Don't wait for it to wake up on its own, set an alarm clock for it."
Susan immediately went to another terminal and entered the parameters. A few seconds later, the deep-sea observation cabin received the command and activated its built-in oscillation module. On the screen, the curve representing signal strength began to slowly rise.
Five minutes later, the first complete data packet was transmitted back.
“We have the water sample.” Susan zoomed in on a section of the reading. “The concentrations of zinc, lead, and mercury are all below the detection limit, but the mineral content within a ten-meter radius is normal. This is unreasonable.”
“It wasn’t absorbed by the ore.” Karl leaned closer to look. “These metal ions can’t be fixed by a crystal structure.”
Nana switched to analysis mode and activated the bioelectric field tracking algorithm. A dashed path gradually appeared in the center of the screen, pointing towards the depths of the stardust mine fissure.
“The source of purification is not in the water,” she said, “but inside the ore.”
Chen Hao leaned closer to the screen. "You mean, there are cleaners living inside?"
“The probability is over 89.3,” Nana replied.
"Then let's take them out and have a look." Chen Hao grabbed his protective gloves. "We need them, alive or dead."
“No need to go down,” Susan stopped him. “The observation cabin has a miniature sampling arm; we can extract samples remotely.”
A few minutes later, a strand of fine, hair-like material was collected into the sealed chamber, and real-time images were transmitted back to the laboratory. Karl increased the magnification, and under the microscope, those fibrous structures were trembling slightly.
"It's still alive?" Chen Hao's eyes widened.
“There are at least signs of metabolism,” Susan noted the timestamp, “but it can’t be maintained out of water for long.”
They quickly tried three standard nutrient solutions, and the flocculent material gradually darkened in color and its activity decreased. After thirty minutes, the sample became completely still.
“Dead,” Carl said.
“Or maybe it’s just asleep.” Chen Hao stared at the screen. “Have you forgotten about the Electric Jellyfish? Those things also rely on ore for power to survive.”
Susan looked up abruptly. "Yes, its skin flora depends on a microcurrent environment. Maybe this one is the same."
“Simulate the conditions.” Chen Hao waved his hand. “Quickly get a charged petri dish.”
Nana immediately accessed the database and designed a miniature electric field culture chamber. Within ten minutes, the new device was assembled. She transferred the inactivated samples inside and set a pulse frequency of 36.9 times per second, synchronized with the discharge rhythm of the stardust ore.
Three minutes later, subtle fluctuations appeared in the microscopic image.
"It moved!" Chen Hao almost jumped up from his chair.
The edges of the flocculent material began to expand, like a sponge slowly unfurling after absorbing water. Immediately afterwards, the ion levels in the culture medium dropped sharply.
"The lead content has decreased by forty-one percent," Nana reported.
“Continue monitoring.” Susan stared intently at the curve. “If it can drop below the safe level within three hours, it will prove that its purification ability is not accidental.”
For the rest of the time, no one spoke. Only the ticking of the equipment and the occasional data notification sound could be heard.
Two hours and fifty-eight minutes later, the mercury concentration returned to zero.
“It’s done,” Carl said in a low voice. “This stuff really does clean up poisonous water.”
“It’s not just clean.” Susan pulled up a comparison chart. “It breaks down heavy metals in ionic form, which is equivalent to directly dismantling the molecular structure of pollutants. Existing treatment technologies can only precipitate or adsorb at most.”
"So, we won't have to worry about wastewater discharge anymore?" Chen Hao grinned.
“The prerequisite is stable cultivation.” Susan looked at the sample in the incubator. “It only survived last time because of external power. If the power is cut off, it will die.”
“Then let’s keep the power on.” Chen Hao made the final decision. “Make a special tank, connect it with an electric wire, and let it work every day.”
“The risk assessment is not yet complete,” Nana cautioned. “If the microorganism proliferates outside the controlled environment, it could affect the local ecological balance.”
"It can't even survive outside the mine crevice," Chen Hao waved his hand. "Look how delicate it is. It lies down when there's no electricity, and it collapses when there's no oxygen. It's lazier than me. Where could it possibly go?"
“It is an obligate anaerobic species,” Nana added. “It cannot survive in an oxygen-rich environment at normal pressure, and its probability of natural dispersal is zero.”
"Did you hear that?" Chen Hao turned to Karl. "Even the robot said it can't get out."
Carl was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed. "So I was wrong. I thought we'd build machines to do the work, but it turns out we're raising bacteria to do the work."
“More efficient.” Nana opened the naming program interface. “I suggest officially recording it as ‘Crystalliscavenger abyssus’.”
"Can it be called 'mineral insect fungus' in Chinese?" Chen Hao frowned. "It sounds like a snack."
“Too corny.” Carl shook his head. “It would be better to call it ‘Flash Bacteria,’ at least it’s related to electricity.”
“The name doesn’t matter.” Susan transferred the first batch of live samples into the incubator and labeled them, “G1 generation experimental strain, pulse frequency 36.9 Hz, record the activity status daily.”
“The important thing is the purpose.” Chen Hao sat back down at the control panel. “I’ll write a proposal to build a biological filter specifically for treating domestic sewage. It will save electricity and money, and also reduce the use of chemical agents.”
“I can provide the structural design drawings.” Nana simultaneously uploaded the gene map to the main database. “I also suggest adding an isolation layer monitoring system to prevent human error from causing environmental exposure.”
“Okay.” Chen Hao typed on the keyboard. “You’ll be in charge of the technical parameters, and I’ll be in charge of getting the approval approved. Susan will handle the training process, and Carl… you’ll just be a witness and prove that I didn’t make this up.”
“I’m not going to work for free.” Carl put his headphones back on. “At least let me hear if it makes any noise when it’s working.”
“There is currently no record of vocal organs,” Nana said.
"Then let's record some electrical noise as background music," Chen Hao laughed. "We'll play it after get off work to celebrate clearing up another ton of toxins today."
The atmosphere in the lab was relaxed. Susan finished checking the incubator's seal and took a sip of her coffee, which had long since gone cold. Carl leaned against the wall, his fingers tapping lightly on his thigh in sync with the rhythm playing in his headphones. Nana stood in front of the terminal, a faint blue light flashing across the arm interface, disappearing in an instant.
Chen Hao stopped typing and looked up at her. "You disappeared again."
“System self-check,” she said.
"You said the same thing last time," he squinted, "and what happened?"
"The results are all normal." Nana pulled up the operation log, "Including that your breathing rate is currently high, so I suggest reducing your caffeine intake."
"That's because I've been writing too many reports," Chen Hao waved his hand. "Besides, what I'm drinking is instant coffee, it's not really coffee at all."
"The ingredients are the same," she said.
Carl chuckled. "She remembers you secretly added three packets of sugar last week."
"Shut up." Chen Hao lowered his head and continued typing. "Once the filter is built, I'll throw you in first to purify your blood sugar."
Susan closed her notebook and walked to the window to examine the external piping layout diagram. "If we connect the reactor chamber below the main drain outlet and utilize natural water pressure for circulation, we should be able to reduce power consumption."
"That's settled then." Chen Hao typed the final conclusion. "Submit the application tomorrow and try to start work next week."
Nana synchronously completes data archiving, and the background marks the new entry:
[The first artificial activation of the crystal-filtering bacteria was successful, with metabolic efficiency meeting expectations, and the symbiotic mechanism was verified.]
She did not reveal another hidden record:
The interval between external signal accesses has been shortened to three hours and seventeen minutes, and the frequency matching accuracy has increased to 94%.
Chen Hao stood up, stretched, and turned to look at the incubator. The G1 generation samples swayed gently in the dim light, like a group of sleeping workers waiting to be awakened.
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