Waking the Engine

The dust was electric, hanging in the air like a charged fog. Roy stood on the edge of the platform, staring out at the massive structure that spanned the horizon. He wasn’t an architect, but he could appreciate the symmetry, the precision. The “Engines of God,” they called it—though the name was more poetic than factual. The structure had been there for millennia, long before humans crawled out of the oceans.

Next to him, Camilla adjusted the straps of her exosuit, checking the seals for the third time. She was meticulous, always had been. “You going to keep staring, or are we doing this?”

Roy glanced at her, then back at the ancient installation. “It just... doesn’t make sense. Why would a civilization capable of building something like this abandon it?”

“They didn’t leave a manual either,” Camilla said. “And we’re not here to ask questions. We’re here to get that power core online, or every colony within a hundred light-years is going to starve.”

That was the crux of it. The Engine had been dormant for centuries, but its gravitational field stabilized the orbits of three nearby planets, all agricultural hubs for the outer rim. Without it, seasons had become erratic, and crops were failing. The last resupply freighter had barely made it through the storms, and they couldn’t count on another.

“Harley, you good?” Camilla asked over the comms.

A voice crackled over the comms. “I’ve been better. This place gives me the creeps.”

Harley was already inside the complex, running diagnostic scans. She was their systems specialist, and probably the only person alive who could understand the alien technology well enough to get it running again. Roy doubted anyone really understood it, though. The best anyone could do was guess.

Roy tapped his helmet. "We're going in."

They stepped across the threshold, and the temperature dropped noticeably. The interior was smooth, almost organic, but with a geometric precision that made Roy’s head hurt if he stared too long. The air inside felt different—thicker, almost like walking through water.

“Harley, where’s the core?” Camilla asked.

“Third sublevel,” Harley replied. “But you’ll need to bypass the security locks first. I’ve got schematics here... sort of. It’s a mess.”

Roy led the way down a series of ramps that spiraled into the guts of the structure. His suit’s heads-up display flickered occasionally, struggling to process the alien signals flooding the air. He kept his hand on the plasma cutter strapped to his side, more out of habit than need. If something went wrong, no amount of firepower would help.

They reached the sublevel and found the core chamber. The door was massive, easily twenty meters tall, its surface etched with symbols that no one had ever deciphered.

“Think they were warning us?” Roy muttered.

“More likely it’s just a label,” Camilla said. “Like ‘Power Room, Keep Out.’” She knelt next to the control panel, pulling a data spike from her belt. “Harley, I’m sending you the interface. See if you can make sense of it.”

A few moments passed before Harley’s voice returned. “Alright, I think I’ve got it. Give me a second...”

The door slid open without a sound. Beyond it, the core chamber was vast, with a central pillar that pulsed faintly with energy. The air felt heavier here, thick with the weight of something Roy couldn’t quite identify.

“Camilla, you seeing this?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice quieter. “It’s... still alive. Barely.”

The core was ancient, but it hadn’t died. Not completely. It was like a star on the verge of collapsing into a black hole—still burning, but only just.

They approached the control console. Harley’s voice came through again, strained. “I’m reading fluctuations. The whole thing’s unstable. If we wake it up too fast, it could blow.”

Roy glanced at Camilla. “Options?”

“Slow restart,” Harley said. “I can guide you through it, but there’s no guarantee it’ll work. If it doesn’t, we lose the whole system. And I mean everything.”

Roy exhaled, though it was more out of habit than need. “No pressure.”

Camilla began tapping on the console, her fingers moving with careful precision. Roy watched the core, its faint glow pulsing in a rhythm that felt almost biological. He couldn’t help but feel like they were waking something that had been asleep for a very long time, and maybe it didn’t want to wake up.

The console beeped, and the core’s pulse grew stronger.

“Harley?” Camilla asked.

“Looking good so far,” Harley replied, though there was tension in her voice. “Keep going. Just... slowly.”

Minutes passed, and Roy’s anxiety grew with each one. The pulsing light in the core was almost hypnotic now, and he had to force himself to look away. His display showed rising energy levels, but just barely. It was like coaxing a fire from embers.

Then, a warning flashed across his visor. “We’ve got a spike,” Roy said. “Harley, talk to me.”

“I see it. Hold on.”

The spike leveled off, but the glow from the core was erratic now. The pulses weren’t in sync anymore. Roy felt his heart race, though he tried to keep his breathing steady.

“This isn’t going to work,” Harley said finally. “You need to shut it down.”

Camilla hesitated. “We can’t. If we stop now, we lose the colonies.”

Another warning flashed. The core pulsed violently, and Roy felt the ground tremble beneath them.

“Harley, what happens if it blows?” Roy asked.

“Best case? Takes out the Engine. Worst case? Takes out the entire system.”

Roy clenched his jaw. “Camilla, we need to make the call.”

Camilla looked pale behind her visor. She stared at the console, her hands hovering over the controls. “We’re too close.”

Another tremor, stronger this time. The core’s light flared.

Roy stepped forward. “Camilla. We can’t save them all.”

She didn’t move, didn’t even blink.

“Camilla!”

Finally, she nodded—just once—and her fingers tapped a sequence on the console. The core dimmed, and the tremors stopped. The chamber went quiet.

The silence was worse than the noise.

“Harley?” Camilla asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s stable,” Harley said. “We’re in the clear.”

Roy let out a breath, this time out of real relief. “We’ll figure out something else for the colonies. We always do.”

Camilla didn’t respond. She just stared at the console, her shoulders sagging under the weight of a choice no one should ever have to make.

---

The writing prompt for this story was:
The Engines of God, but not based on the original story.

This story was written by:
openai/chatgpt-4o-latest

---

Thank you for reading. Please post a comment if you have feedback on this story.