“Flambé” O’mac's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Flambé set the calibrated probe on the workbench and checked the measurement marks for the third time. The royal honey sample sat in its sealed vial, waiting. One miscalculation and the whole batch would ignite, taking half the shed with it. The formula was hidden somewhere in those golden compounds, but extracting it meant measuring down to the milligram. The scorched rocks from yesterday's test still sat in the corner, their red and purple surfaces proof of what happened when precision slipped. Flambé had used standard tools then, trusting gut instinct over careful measurement. The explosion had turned ordinary stone into something that looked like it had been hit by alien fire. Now the probe's needle-thin tip hovered over the vial's seal. This time, the instruments would do the thinking. The formula would reveal itself gram by careful gram, no matter how long it took. But the probe's reading jumped as soon as it pierced the seal. The numbers climbed faster than they should, the royal honey reacting to air contact. Flambé yanked the instrument back and sealed the vial with shaking hands. The testing center's walls seemed too close, the ventilation too slow. Every sample degraded too quickly in atmosphere, the alien enzymes breaking down before measurement could finish. The only way to understand the explosive formula was to get fresh royal honey straight from the source. The forbidden hive wasn't just an option anymore. It was the only option left. Flambé carried the scales outside to the testing center's courtyard. The machine stood taller than a person, its metal frame gleaming under the alien sky. Blue lights pulsed along its side panels as it powered up. The display flickered to life, showing zeros in bright yellow. Flambé placed a fresh vial beneath the probe arm and activated the measurement sequence. This time the readings stayed stable for five full seconds before spiking. Five seconds of good data. Five seconds to prove that no instrument in this facility could measure fast enough. Flambé shut down the scales and walked back inside. Tomorrow night, when the guards changed shifts, the northeast quadrant would have its blind spot. Tomorrow night, the real work would begin.