The First Superhuman: Rebuilding Civilization from the Moon

Chapter 167: Magma Layer

Three months passed in the blink of an eye.

The ambient temperature inside the ship’s outer sectors gradually decreased, finally dropping to a few hundred degrees Celsius. While still scorching, this was within the operational range of specialized equipment, meaning humanity could finally begin to proactively explore the damage outside the safe zone.

A large group of Federation officials and scientists gathered around the main monitors in the security center.

The crew was desperate to see the state of the ship. Engineering had deployed several reconnaissance drones forged from pure tungsten past the primary barricades. Capable of withstanding temperatures up to 3,000 degrees Celsius, these drones were perfect for scouting the hazardous zones.

Jason’s eyes widened as he stared intently at the screen. For the first time in months, humanity saw the devastation outside their bunkers.

The feeds displayed a wasteland of shattered concrete and twisted metal, littered with massive boulders of cooled, solidified magma. The outer sectors of the Noah looked like the epicenter of a volcanic eruption.

Most alarming was the severe damage to the Noah’s internal honeycomb structure. It was so catastrophic that a chasm several hundred meters wide had been torn open near the primary exterior breaches!

This massive fissure extended all the way down to the ventral decks of the spaceship. They could clearly see a churning lake of scorching red magma pooled in the high-gravity zone at the very bottom!

It was violently bubbling and boiling, radiating immense heat.

Jason felt a chill run down his spine. "That’s a massive amount of magma! Where did it all come from?"

A geologist studied the readings and replied, "This magma is the liquefied remains of our outer radiation walls and molten structural metal. Gravity pulled it all down to the lower decks..."

"...Plus, we likely took on a massive backflow of liquefied Martian bedrock before the planet shattered!"

Jason nodded silently, his brows furrowed. If this magma lake remained active, wouldn’t it turn their safe zone into an oven? The thought made him incredibly uneasy.

An older physicist analyzed the thermal data and stated solemnly, "The temperature of that magma pool is estimated to be in the tens of thousands of degrees! However, it is approximately thirty kilometers below our current deck. There are ten layers of intact honeycomb hull between us and the pool. Because the ship’s purple alloy possesses incredible thermal insulation properties, combined with the hard vacuum separating the decks, the radiant heat shouldn’t directly affect our climate."

"Furthermore, since it is no longer being actively heated by the supernova, it’s essentially a dying fire. It will only cool down over time; there is no risk of a pressurized volcanic eruption."

Jason breathed a sigh of relief.

The surrounding engineers immediately began brainstorming.

"We need to seal the surrounding breaches as soon as possible to prevent any atmospheric venting..."

"Agreed. We also need to cap the thermal vents on our deck, otherwise they’ll act like radiators."

"...We could potentially bleed off the excess heat into the Noah’s uninhabited sectors to create artificial high-temperature industrial zones."

Jason listened and nodded in agreement. Humanity currently occupied barely one percent of the ship’s total interior volume. Most of the Noah was an empty, insulated vacuum. Therefore, as long as it was contained, this magma lake wouldn’t threaten the citizens living behind the surviving walls.

But later that afternoon, a devastating report shattered their tentative relief.

"So, what you’re telling me is... a massive portion of our stockpiles are just gone?"

Jason stared at the department heads in front of him with intense frustration, then looked down at the data pad in his hand.

The document detailed a comprehensive damage assessment of the Noah:

The first ten layers of radiation shielding closest to the exterior breaches had completely vaporized, and a substantial amount of the ship’s internal purple alloy decking had melted into slag. This was the first time humanity had ever seen the Precursor ship’s core structure sustain actual damage.

Shields 1 through 10 were entirely eradicated. Shields 11 through 15 were catastrophically compromised, reduced to little more than solidified lava mounds. The apocalyptic thermal wave had finally been halted by Shield 16.

The critical issue was what had been stored in the buffer zone between Shields 15 and 16: several primary resource silos and... a massive freshwater ice lake! When Shield 15 collapsed, the intense heat instantly vaporized everything in that sector. Some of the vapor and particulate matter vented into outer space, and some drifted into the Noah’s upper zero-gravity zones, but the vast majority of it was incinerated and absorbed into the magma pool...

Jason rubbed his temples, a severe headache blooming behind his eyes. How could they survive after losing such a staggering amount of supplies? Every fundamental aspect of human survival food, water, clothing, and industry relied entirely on that material foundation.

The department heads shifted uncomfortably, looking utterly helpless.

Because Shields 16 and 17 protected the vital residential and heavy industrial sectors, the bulk storage silos had been relegated to the slightly more exposed outer rings. There simply hadn’t been enough space in the central core. Ironically... Jason himself had signed off on that exact logistics plan.

Roman sighed heavily. "There’s really nothing we can do to reverse it. We’ve lost approximately half of our organic minerals, a massive portion of our freshwater reserves, processed food rations, and essential inorganic salts. Some of the vaporized matter that drifted into the low-gravity zones can theoretically be condensed and recycled."

"But the bulk of the heavier elements sank into the high-gravity zone at the ventral base. It’s fused into that magma lake, and with the local gravity down there exceeding twenty Gs, we simply don’t have the technology to extract it..." Roman finished, his tone bleak.

Jason frowned deeply. But dwelling on regret was useless; surviving the blast at all was a miracle.

Every cloud had a silver lining. If those massive silos of ice and raw materials hadn’t absorbed so much of the thermal energy as they vaporized, Shield 16 might have collapsed as well. If that had happened, the industrial sector would have been wiped out.

"What a brutal way to start a new era," he muttered.

Sighing heavily, Jason pulled another data pad from his desk and handed it to Roman. Roman’s expression darkened the moment he read the screen. He passed it to the other scientists, whose faces similarly fell as they scanned the numbers.

"As you can see, those are the daily consumption metrics for fifty-seven thousand people. We burn through a massive amount of water, oxygen, and calories every single day. Even with our closed-loop life support systems, we inevitably lose a fraction of those resources to inefficiency during every cycle. Under these conditions, every single drop of water and scrap of carbon is infinitely precious."

"And then there’s the post-disaster reconstruction," Jason continued. "While our core infrastructure survived, many secondary facilities were destroyed and must be rebuilt immediately to ensure long-term survival. The vertical hydroponics arrays and the primary agricultural domes, for example. We also lost several of the livestock breeding sectors cattle, pigs, and sheep. Rebuilding those biospheres will demand a massive influx of raw materials... Considering we just lost half our food reserves, those agricultural sectors have to be operational yesterday."

"Furthermore, the external astronomical arrays and the outer weapons platforms all need to be completely rebuilt from scratch."

"All of this requires raw materials. Every ton we use for construction is a ton we can’t use to keep our people alive."

Energy and matter. Those two pillars were the lifeline of the Noah. They couldn’t afford a deficit in either.

Staring at the bleak data on the pad, Jason spoke, his voice tight with worry. "Energy isn’t a critical issue yet; the refined uranium stockpiles we brought aboard are enough to power the city for over a century. But losing half of our raw matter reserves... that’s a fatal blow. Factoring in the materials required for immediate reconstruction, how long will our remaining stockpiles last?"

"Water is the biggest crisis. We lost half of our entire freshwater reserve! Hydroponics, livestock, basic human hydration, everything relies on water. How long can we actually sustain this population?"

"Fifty years? Thirty? Ten?"

The department heads remained dead silent, fully grasping the gravity of the predicament.

The universe was vast, and useable matter in the interstellar void was virtually non-existent. No one knew how long the Noah would be forced to drift in the dark.

Fifty years was nothing in cosmic terms. They could be drifting for a century, two centuries, or even millennia...

Without an influx of raw resources, how could humanity possibly survive the journey?

This was the terrifying reality they now faced.

"Therefore, your top priority is to map the Noah’s current trajectory and calculate an intercept course with a viable exoplanet," Jason ordered. "If we detect a suitable terrestrial world, we deploy the retro-thrusters and anchor immediately..."

Jason slowly lowered the data pad, his gaze drifting toward the dark, ruined bulkhead in the distance.