Chapter 5: A Secret Meeting Behind the Bulkhead

The hum of the ventilation shafts swirled within the isolation chamber, the red glare of the emergency lights staining the metal bulkheads a blood-brown. As Lin Shen passed through the corridor clutching his data tablet, he caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar authorization code flashing on the electronic lock of the cabin door—the encrypted insignia of the United Government’s Special Services. He paused, his knuckles unconsciously tracing the ridged edge of his tablet. Three days ago, when Xia Qing had stated on the bridge that "any non-mission-related personnel boarding the ship must undergo level-three security screening," her tone had been as cold as the exhaust of an antimatter engine.

"Professor Lin?"

The voice of the communications officer, Xiao Zhou, crackled through his earpiece, startling Lin Shen so much he nearly collided with a discarded maintenance robotic arm. Xia Qing’s face flickered on the holographic screen, her tactical helmet pressing down on her furrowed brow: "The surveillance for Isolation Zone B has been manually disabled. Go check it out, but don't alert them."

Lin Shen’s breath condensed into white mist within his mask. He circled to the side door of the isolation chamber and peered through the slit of the inspection port. Oleg Petrov stood with his back to him, his silver hair rimmed with frost in the red light. The old man’s right hand rested on the edge of the console, his knuckles white from the pressure, while his left hand gripped a holographic protocol, the blue light flowing across his palm to form a star map of the lunar base.

"Three days," Oleg’s voice sounded like sandpaper rubbing against metal. "I want the core code for the Dreamweaver quantum entanglement matrix."

Sitting at the console was a young technical officer; Lin Shen recognized him as Xiao Chen from the communications team. The twenty-three-year-old, who had graduated from Harbin Institute of Technology’s quantum communications program before enlisting, felt his Adam's apple bob as he gripped the edge of the operation manual, crumpling the paper. "Captain Xia’s permissions have locked all external ports... She set up triple biometric authentication; my iris scan cannot bypass it."

When Oleg turned, the United Government emblem on his shoulder epaulets caught the light, making Lin Shen squint. The old man pulled a leather folder from his suit jacket and slid it across the table with a faint rasp. "This is the asset transfer agreement for the No. 07 Helium-3 warehouse at the Mare Tranquillitatis base on the Moon. Your mother’s medical pod requires the new nano-repair fluid, doesn't it?" He tapped the cover of the folder with his knuckles. "As long as you transmit the code in segments to the temporary quantum node I’ve provided, these assets will be registered in your name."

Xiao Chen’s fingers tightened abruptly, the veins on the back of his hands bulging. "But the first party on the agreement is..."

"It is the 'Deep Space Resource Development Special Committee'." Oleg’s smile was like the edge of a blade scraping glass. "Don't ask so many questions. You only need to know this—Xia Qing’s authority was granted by humanity, and humanity’s choices are defined by us."

A chill crawled up the back of Lin Shen’s neck. Three months ago at the lunar base victory banquet, Oleg had held his champagne high, declaring the *Ark* the hope of human civilization, yet the light in his eyes now seemed to be weighing something with a cold, terrifying precision. What unsettled Lin Shen even more was Xiao Chen’s expression—the boy stared at the digital signature on the protocol, his eyelashes casting trembling shadows beneath his eyes. He looked like an insect pressed against glass, knowing full well there was a trap ahead, yet unable to resist reaching for that flicker of light.

"Professor?" Xia Qing’s urgent voice came through the earpiece. "What is the situation?"

Just as Lin Shen was about to speak, a metallic clatter erupted inside the isolation chamber. Xiao Chen stood up abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor. "You are violating the Interstellar Contact Convention! If the Dreamweavers find out..."

"What if they do find out?" Oleg’s voice rose sharply. "Do you really think they came here to make friends? I read Lin Shen’s spectral analysis report last week—the energy decay patterns of those stellar remains are identical to those we observed in the Orion Arm twenty years ago." He leaned in toward Xiao Chen, his shadow engulfing the young man’s face. "The Star-Eaters are devouring stars, and the Dreamweavers are collecting the remains. How much stellar energy do you think their quantum resonance network requires to maintain?"

Xiao Chen’s face turned deathly pale. Lin Shen recalled the conclusion he had written in his report: if the Dreamweavers’ quantum network operated at full capacity, it would consume the equivalent of the total radiation of three sun-like stars every year. He subconsciously gripped his tablet, his fingertips pressing ripples into the data screen. It displayed the light-cocoon structure diagram Emil had sent yesterday, the pale blue veins spreading across the screen like a bioluminescent jellyfish in the deep ocean.

"They said they were survivors," Xiao Chen’s voice trembled.

"Survivors can also become predators." Oleg’s tone softened, as if coaxing a frightened child. "We are simply making preparations in advance. Once we obtain the code for the entanglement matrix, we can crack their communication protocols, and then..." He patted Xiao Chen’s shoulder. "Your mother’s treatment pod will be given priority access to the latest neuro-repair technology, I promise."

Rapid footsteps echoed in the corridor. Lin Shen quickly retreated to the corner and saw Xia Qing’s combat boots enter his field of vision first—she always kept her heels polished to a shine, a habit she maintained even in space. "Who gave you permission to turn off the surveillance?" Her voice pierced the isolation chamber like an ice pick. "Lord Oleg, the United Government’s security reviews require seventy-two hours' prior notice. This is Article—"

"Article Thirty-seven, I recall." Oleg turned, his face shifting back into the gentle smile of a politician. "I simply received urgent encrypted intelligence from Earth stating that the activity range of the Star-Eaters has expanded again. Captain Xia, we must consider the safety of the entire ship." He held up the folder. "Officer Xiao Chen here was helping me verify the protection level of the quantum communication device. The young man is very diligent."

Xia Qing’s gaze swept over Xiao Chen’s reddened ears and landed on the protocol in Oleg’s hand. Lin Shen saw her pupils contract slightly—a tell-tale sign of her detecting an anomaly. "Xiao Chen, go to the main control cabin and calibrate the quantum entanglement state." Her voice was devoid of warmth. "Lord Oleg, come with me to the bridge. I will have someone pull the flight logs from the last three months."

As the isolation chamber door slid shut behind Xia Qing, Lin Shen heard Oleg chuckle softly: "Captain Xia remains as vigilant as ever."

As Xiao Chen passed Lin Shen, a corner of the protocol folder tucked under his arm was exposed, the star map of the lunar base flickering in the corridor light. The young man looked up, saw Lin Shen, and his Adam's apple bobbed as if he were about to say something, but he swallowed it back. Lin Shen noticed a fresh scar on the inside of his wrist, left by medical nanobots—it was identical to the scars he had seen in an Earth hospital three months ago, when his mother was fighting pulmonary fibrosis in the ICU.

"Xiao Chen," Lin Shen called out.

The young man’s steps faltered, his back stiffening like a taut string.

"The protection system for the quantum communication device," Lin Shen pulled out his data tablet and called up a diagram of the security vulnerabilities he had marked, "the entanglement state verification code here can be configured for dual-factor authentication." He handed the tablet over. "Remember to patch this during your next calibration, otherwise it is easily hijacked by external nodes."

When Xiao Chen took the tablet, his fingertips brushed against the back of Lin Shen’s hand. The warmth of the touch startled Lin Shen—the young man’s hand was shaking.

The science lab was exceptionally quiet in the dead of night, the blue light of the holographic projector casting shifting shadows on Lin Shen’s face. He played back the audio he had secretly recorded in the isolation chamber, Oleg’s voice echoing in the room: "Survivors can also become predators..."

"What are you thinking about?"

Xia Qing’s voice came from behind him, and Lin Shen nearly dropped the tablet. She had shed her combat gear and was wearing only a dark gray crew uniform, water droplets still clinging to the ends of her hair—she had just showered.

"Oleg’s behavior today is highly irregular," Lin Shen turned off the recording. "He knows full well that the Interstellar Contact Convention prohibits reverse engineering the core technology of other civilizations."

"It’s not irregular; it’s greed." Xia Qing pulled over a chair and sat down, her knees nearly touching Lin Shen’s workbench. "The Helium-3 reserves at the lunar base are enough for the *Ark* to make three round trips, yet he is still siphoning assets into his own accounts." She tapped the table with her fingertip. "Why do you think he is so desperate for the quantum communication code?"

Lin Shen was silent for a moment. "The quantum resonance network requires stellar energy, and the Star-Eaters survive by devouring stars... Oleg might be looking to combine the two."

Xia Qing’s eyes turned sharp. "Combine them how? Using Dreamweaver technology to locate the Star-Eaters’ Dyson spheres, or using the energy of the Star-Eaters to sustain our quantum network?" She stood up, her combat boot heels clicking crisply on the metal floor. "Lin Shen, you always say the meaning of civilization lies in transcending survival instincts, but some people are born with survival etched into their bones—Oleg is one, and so am I."

"Is that why you locked all the external ports?"

Xia Qing paused. Outside the porthole, the light of Alpha Centauri flickered like crushed diamonds, winking in her pupils. "Yesterday, Emil said the Star-Eaters’ Dyson spheres can absorb 99% of a star’s radiation. If Oleg gets that code..." She did not finish, her uniform hem brushing against Lin Shen’s hand as she turned away. "Go to sleep. We have a joint meeting with the Dreamweavers tomorrow."

Lin Shen watched her silhouette vanish through the cabin door, then looked down at the light-cocoon structure diagram on the table. The pale blue veins suddenly rippled—a message from Emil: "The stars are very bright tonight. Can you see them where you are?"

His fingertip hovered over the reply button, but in the end, he simply turned off the holographic projection. The science lab plunged back into darkness, with only the starlight from the porthole falling onto the workbench, illuminating the corner of the protocol Xiao Chen had left behind—on the edge of the lunar base star map, the abbreviation for the Deep Space Resource Development Special Committee was printed in tiny letters: DRDC.

Lin Shen suddenly remembered that night twenty years ago, when he crouched in the ruins of Earth, watching the last rainforest wither in the acid rain. He had understood then that some things were more important than survival, yet there were always those who treated survival as everything.

The hum of the ventilation shafts returned, and this time, Lin Shen clearly heard the electrical static mixed within—the sound of the quantum communication device initiating. He grabbed his tablet and sprinted toward the main control cabin. The emergency lights in the corridor suddenly flared to life. In the red light, Xiao Chen’s figure flashed past from the direction of the isolation chamber. The folder in his arms flew open as he ran, and the star map of the lunar base scattered across the floor like a torn-up sky.