The temperature read 8°C. Then 3. Then -6.
Elena turned to face the observation window. Beyond it, the Nevada desert stretched into twilight. Somewhere out there, a dozen similar units were being assembled in a black-site facility. Military applications. Endless loiter time for drones. Silent submarines that never needed to surface. Cities running on the waste heat of their own sewers.
“Still think it’s just a battery?” asked Dr. Hargrove, not looking up from his datapad.
“Shut it down,” she whispered.