The main screen went black for three seconds, then came back on.
All data was reset to zero and reloaded. Green lights lit up one after another, and the readings on the propulsion module slowly climbed. Chen Hao stared at the red pipe icon; it stopped flashing, and the pressure value stabilized below 700 Pa.
"Are you alright now?" he asked.
Nana didn't answer immediately. Her optical lens rotated slightly, as if she were examining something. Karl squatted in front of the access panel, his hand still resting on the screws he had just tightened, his knuckles white.
“The system has restarted,” Nana finally spoke, “but the error message is still there. It originated from your console port.”
Chen Hao looked down at his hands. The cold feeling of his palm against the metal was still there. He pulled his hand back and put it in his pocket.
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said. “I didn’t even press the button.”
“The command package is not signed,” Nana said. “It looks like an automatically generated loop script that lasts for 0.3 seconds.”
"A virus?" Chen Hao raised an eyebrow.
“It doesn’t seem like it.” She shook her head. “It’s more like signal distortion caused by line crosstalk.”
Carl stood up and took off his gloves: "Never mind the software for now. Will that tape hold up? If the power outage had happened during the pressure test, we'd be in a vacuum by now."
“Then let’s test it.” Chen Hao straightened up. “You take it apart, I’ll watch the watch.”
Nana brought up the database interface: "I suggest conducting phased stress tests. Start with 300 Pa, and increase by 100 Pa every 30 seconds, observing the interface sealing performance."
“Okay.” Carl opened his toolbox and took out the detection probe. “This time I won’t say anything, and you don’t need to tell any lame jokes.”
"When did I ever interrupt your work by telling jokes?" Chen Hao grinned.
“Last time you asked me ‘why spaceships don’t catch a cold,’ I slipped on my welding torch.” Carl unscrewed the fastener. “Then I spent two days fixing the ventilation duct.”
“That was an accident,” Chen Hao said, handing over the probe. “And that joke was really funny.”
“Not funny.” Nana simultaneously activated the monitoring program. “According to database statistics, the acceptance rate for this type of pun is only 23 percent.”
“The general public doesn’t understand appreciation,” Chen Hao shrugged. “Art is always ahead of its time.”
Carl ignored them and connected the probe to the monitoring point next to the interface. A set of waveforms appeared on the screen, showing a steady rise.
300 Pa, no leakage.
The vibration frequency fluctuated slightly at 400 Pa, but did not exceed the standard.
At 500 Pa, Nana suddenly raised her hand: "Stop for a moment."
Carl immediately cut off the pressure.
"What's wrong?" Chen Hao leaned closer.
“There is microcurrent backflow here.” She pointed to a section of noise at the edge of the waveform graph, “It comes from the left-side cable harness. This part of the cable has been in service for more than twice the standard lifespan, and the insulation layer is severely aged.”
"So the erroneous command just now might have been caused by this?" Chen Hao asked.
“The probability is more than 85 percent,” she said. “The vibration caused the damaged insulation to come into contact with the metal frame, generating an induced current that falsely triggered the control signal.”
Carl snorted, "Old ships are such a hassle. Everything about them is like a bloated cookie, crumbling at the slightest touch."
“We are too.” Chen Hao rubbed his stomach. “Especially me, my back hurts after sitting for a long time.”
No one laughed.
He didn't seem to care: "So what do we do now? Change the cable?"
“There are no spare cables,” Nana said. “And the removal and re-laying will take sixteen hours, during which the power must be cut off.”
"We don't have that much time to wait," Chen Hao said, scratching his head. "Is there any other way?"
Nana paused for two seconds, and the database search was completed.
“We could try partial shielding,” she said. “Wrapping the aging wiring harness with magnetic material can reduce electromagnetic leakage. There’s a roll of discarded magnetic cooling pads in the lockers in section B of the ship, and their performance meets the requirements.”
“I’ve seen that thing before.” Chen Hao turned and walked toward the bulkhead storage compartment. “It was leftover from the last resupply. I was originally going to stick it on the coffee machine to keep it warm.”
"It cannot be used with heating equipment," Nana cautioned.
“I know.” He pulled out two thin, silver-gray pieces. “I’m not that stupid.”
Carl took a piece and bent it in his hand: "It can be used as a clip. I'll cut a scrap of circuit board, make a U-shaped bracket, and then use this thing to fix it to the outside to increase the structural strength."
"That sounds more reliable than tape," Chen Hao said.
“It’s more reliable than tape anyway.” Carl had already started disassembling the miniature cutter from his toolbox. “Go get some alcohol swabs and clean the contact surfaces.”
The three divided the work again.
Karl meticulously polished the edges of the metal clips. Chen Hao wiped the inside of the cooling fins with a cotton pad, repeating the process three times. Nana then pulled up a diagram of the reinforcement plan, noting the attachment angle and pre-tightening force.
“Cross-bonding.” She pointed to the diagram, “First, one piece is placed vertically, then it is stacked horizontally to form a stress-dispersing structure.”
"It sounds very professional," Chen Hao said while wiping, "but I always feel like you're reading an instruction manual."
“I’m stating the facts,” she said. “This isn’t from the instruction manual; it’s the optimal solution derived from combining three emergency repair cases.”
“Look, she can even argue back now.” Chen Hao looked up. “I couldn’t understand anything she said before.”
"Because you never listen attentively." Nana adjusted the projector's position. "The emotional module is currently 65% loaded, and comprehension is improving."
"Great progress!" Chen Hao laughed. "Could you learn a clapping function next time? You can clap your hands after I tell a joke."
“No need.” Carl attached the first cooling fin to the pipe. “Your jokes aren’t worth applause.”
"You two are really heartless." Chen Hao handed over the rest of the film. "I'm the team's mood-maker."
“Atmosphere can’t be used as fuel.” Carl pressed down on the second piece. “Get to work.”
Assembly complete. The new structure covers the outer layer of tape, metal clips hold both ends in place, and magnetic plates firmly adhere to the valve body.
Nana starts the simulation test.
The pressure is gradually increasing.
600 Pa, no deformation at the interface.
At 700 Pa, the vibration amplitude decreased by 40%.
750 Pa, sustained for ten minutes, data stable.
"It can operate for at least five days," she announced. "If drastic maneuvers are avoided, it could be extended to seven days."
Chen Hao let out a long breath and plopped down on the edge of the control panel.
“It’s done,” he said. “We can live a few more days.”
“It’s just a temporary fix.” Carl put away his tools. “The fundamental problem isn’t solved. This part should have been replaced a long time ago.”
"Who wouldn't want a new one?" Chen Hao shrugged. "The problem is, where can I buy one? Interstellar Express delivers to your door? And you still have to pay for shipping?"
“Monitor abandoned beacons along the original route.” Carl put the detection probe back into the box. “Some drift capsules will automatically broadcast status codes; we might just bump into a spare part of the same model.”
“Deep space broadcasting could also be tried,” Nana added. “Send the part number to connect to the logistics network. Although most nodes are out of service, there’s still a 3 in 10,000 chance of receiving an automatic response.”
“I like this.” Chen Hao’s eyes lit up. “Let’s take the initiative.”
“High energy consumption,” she cautioned. “It requires activating a high-power transmission array, which increases energy consumption by seven percent.”
"What's my idea?" Chen Hao cleared his throat. "I remember hearing a rumor that there's a scrapped satellite recycling station on the edge of the asteroid belt, full of dismantled old parts. If we veer slightly 15 degrees and scan around, we might find something we like."
“Deviating from the course.” Nana calculated the risks. “Fuel consumption will exceed the budget by 12 percent, and there is a record of micrometeorite flow activity in the area ahead.”
“It all sounds dangerous.” Carl zipped up his toolbox. “But it’s better than sitting and waiting.”
The cabin quieted down.
Chen Hao leaned against the wall, tapping his thigh with his fingers. Karl examined the wear marks on his gloves. Nana's optical lens dimmed slightly, as if entering a low-power mode.
"How about this," Chen Hao suddenly said, "let's use all three methods at once."
The two looked at him.
"Nana in listening mode, it doesn't use much power, right?" he asked.
“The power consumption of the passive receiving mode is negligible,” she said.
“Then leave it on.” He nodded. “Check the beacon for updates every six hours. If there’s no news in two days, then we’ll decide whether to veer off course to find the recycle bin.”
Carl thought for a moment: "That works. Let's do the lowest-cost thing first."
“I agree.” Nana pulled up the navigation log. “Decision-making plan recorded, execution priority sorting completed.”
The propulsion system's green light remains constantly on.
The ship glided smoothly through the sea of stars. In the distance, a red dwarf star slowly rotated, its reflection shimmering in the corner of the porthole.
Chen Hao walked to the control panel and pulled up the star map. The flight path stretched straight ahead, like a taut line. He drew a fan-shaped scanning area on the edge and marked it "To be checked".
"The rest is up to luck," he said.
“Luck isn’t a variable,” Nana said. “It’s an uncontrollable factor.”
"I know," Chen Hao said with a smile, withdrawing his hand. "But I always have to leave myself some hope."
After packing up his tools, Carl stood in front of the access panel for one last look. The three-layer structure at the interface was intact, showing no signs of loosening.
He nodded and turned to walk towards the workbench.
Nana's voice rang out: "The system is operating normally, and no new interference sources have been detected."
Chen Hao leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
A few seconds later, it opened its eyes again.
“I said,” he turned to look at Nana, “if one day you really learn to smile, could you tell me in advance?”
Her camera flashed slightly: "Currently, there is no necessary function to simulate facial expressions."
"Were you about to laugh just now?"
There is no evidence to support this conclusion.
I think so.
Carl interrupted, "Can you guys shut up for a minute?"
"No." Chen Hao stretched. "I just relaxed, I need to stay alert."
"Then go to sleep."
“I can’t sleep.” He pointed to his head. “It’s too busy here. It’s all about where to go next, how to survive, and where the spare parts are.”
Nana suddenly spoke up: "A segment of encrypted signal has been detected. The source direction matches the beacon database with a 61% match rate."
The three of them sat up straight at the same time.
"What's the content?" Chen Hao asked.
"Decoding in progress," she said. "Preliminary assessment indicates it is... a technical parameter document for a certain type of propulsion control valve."
Chen Hao suddenly stood up, and his chair slid back a short distance.
Is this the model we're looking for?
"The similarity is 89%".
"Damn!" He slammed his hand on the table. "Did you really find it this time?"
Carl had already rushed to the monitoring console, his fingers rapidly swiping across the screen.
“The signal is unstable,” he said. “It’s intermittent, like it’s being automatically launched from a drifting object.”
"Can you lock the location?"
“Okay.” Nana brought up the coordinate grid. “The current distance is about 4.7 light-minutes. The signal source is moving at a very low speed, so it is presumably stationary or drifting slowly.”
Chen Hao stared at the string of fluctuating numbers.
He put his hand back into his pocket and grasped the sticky note covered in corny jokes.
“Prepare to change course,” he said. “Target—that lousy signal.”
Carl glanced at him: "Are you sure? Once we deviate from the course, energy pressure will increase immediately."
“I’m not sure,” Chen Hao grinned, “but I have to go and see if it says ‘Free parts, pick them up yourself’.”
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