"Yes, I recognize it… It's a language from the planet Celya. It describes…"
Using the power ring's translation function, Thea could read any script born from fear. These symbols were trivial.
"What does it say?"
Dr. Silas Stone leaned forward, urgent and restless. He had spent three days without proper food or sleep trying to decipher this text—but made zero progress.
Thea glanced around the room, taking in everyone's faces before replying with slight embarrassment, "It's… instructions on how to reproduce more efficiently. They used a kind of tool to, well… increase effectiveness."
Many terms couldn't even be translated into Earth languages. Thea answered vaguely.
"Reproduce?"
The word echoed. Then it clicked. Those who reacted fast stared silently at Silas Stone. The slower ones were still processing.
Silas stared at his tablet, then at the cylindrical object he'd been obsessively studying for three days. His son was already a teenager. He knew exactly what this was. Damn it.
So much for "advanced alien technology."
The grand image of cosmic science instantly collapsed into something deeply inappropriate. The psychological whiplash nearly made him bolt from the room.
He steadied himself. Thankfully, being Black had one advantage—no one could see him blush. He cleared his throat. "Then… could you take a look at the rest of these inscriptions?"
Thea forced herself to entertain him a little longer. To be fair, the government really had collected an impressive variety of material. Many scripts belonged to extinct civilizations. Without the ring, almost no one could translate them. The collectors had scooped up anything they couldn't read—mixing languages, symbols, maps, even curse formulas. One tablet even contained part of a powerful spell.
A shame it wasn't complete. She pretended not to notice and selectively explained a few extraterrestrial samples instead.
Dr. Stone was clearly unhappy with her evasive answers and kept pestering her.
Thea finally used her trump card: "Alien forces are coming soon. Don't waste time. Can you take responsibility if something happens?"
The statement hit him like a thunderclap. He wasn't sure whether to believe it, but seeing the tense expressions on the generals' faces, he swallowed his questions and hurriedly led her deeper inside—to retrieve the corpse.
Under official pretense, Thea finally entered the famed Red Room laboratory. Using her ring, she quietly observed everything. There were plenty of items—though most seemed to originate from nearby star clusters. A half-destroyed particle enhancer. A magnetic rotational core amplifier with its input port burnt open. No sign at all of Cyborg's future weapon, the white-noise cannon.
Most items looked like random alien scrap tossed together. The room felt cluttered and tight. Thea scanned the surroundings. Almost everything was damaged, broken, or incomplete. Very few pieces were actually functional. This is the "Red Room"? Are they kidding me?
She asked, puzzled, "This is your laboratory?" "Yeah," Dr. Stone replied casually. "But not for much longer."
Oh? That carried implications. Thea turned toward General Lane. "The lab consumes too much funding and produces nothing of value. The Pentagon ordered them to relocate to another city. This facility will be handed over to a more productive research team."
Lane's lips curled with satisfaction. He was clearly pleased. Thea nodded. It wasn't hard to guess the story.
Lane wanted his own enhanced-soldier program. Dr. Stone's team wasn't producing results. So the general knocked him out of Washington and seized the budget. Fewer scientists meant more funding per person.
And if nothing changed, Silas Stone would eventually relocate to Detroit to rebuild the Red Room with scraps. Outside Washington's influence, his research budget would be heavily cut. Which meant… an opening.
Perhaps the Queen Group could step in someday. But that was still far off. Thea kept her expression neutral and followed quietly.
Searching for Abin Sur's remains was anything but smooth.
The corpse had been disassembled into over a hundred fragments—like some grotesque puzzle.
Seven or eight lab assistants spent half an hour just to arrange the pieces into something vaguely humanoid. Staring at the pile of chopped flesh and bone, Thea turned to General Lane with a pained expression.
"General… are you sure it's acceptable for me to transport… this?"
General Lane—Superman's future father-in-law—kept rubbing his scalp, speechless. If Russia or a certain unnamed nation returned an American soldier chopped into a hundred pieces, it definitely wouldn't be interpreted as "an expression of friendship." It would be a declaration of war.
"Who took him apart like this? How am I supposed to explain this? Someone needs to come with me."
Thea had more than enough magical methods to reassemble the body. She could restore flesh and form—revival was impossible, but presentation was easy. Still, she had no intention of leaving without compensation.
General Lane pretended not to hear. His lab assistants whispered nervously— "Explain? Explain to whom?" "Explain where?"
Silas Stone finally told them the situation. To their credit, his lab members were all passionate scientists. Upon learning they might travel to an alien planet, their eyes lit up with stars—
But the dream died instantly when reality set in. They looked at the mangled corpse. Ten-by-ten chunks of alien meat. Take this to outer space? With what face?
"Explain" what, exactly? This wasn't a return of remains—it was practically suicide. One assistant said he was getting married next month. Another claimed his father had died and he had to stay home. They practically tripped over each other making excuses.
To be fair, Silas Stone really wanted to go. But his most loyal students clung to him and refused to let him doom himself.
After a lengthy back-and-forth—full of bargaining, veiled threats, and sly negotiation—Thea extracted several military contracts and secured permission for Queen Group's Applied Sciences Division to tour the Red Room.
Finally satisfied, she put the corpse fragments into a giant bag, left the Pentagon alone, and took off into the night sky.
Back at the hotel, Diana was already waiting. Thea tossed the corpse into her storage ring and ordered the elk not to snack on it. Then she and Diana began yet another round of combat practice.
Thea leapt forward, wrapping her legs around Diana's neck with a move straight out of KGB close-combat training. Diana countered immediately with Sambo defensive grappling, locking her own legs around Thea's head and dropping backward.
"I won't lose!" Thea's voice sounded slightly distorted between Diana's thighs.
"My body can withstand far more strain than yours. Victory is mine." Diana announced her triumph confidently as they crashed together onto the bed.