Preface

As even schoolchildren know, most of the energy resources currently used are non-renewable. It is only a matter of time – and not so long – when humanity will run out of gas, oil and coal. The future belongs to renewable energy sources. But at the current level of technology, it becomes clear that solar, water and wind generators often hardly pay for their own production, and even require certain climatic and geographical conditions. Therefore, the only real future of renewable energy today is nuclear energy. In connection with the recent news from the Beloyarsk NPP, the closure of the fuel cycle has become even closer, which in theory will provide humanity with clean energy for thousands of years. Large nuclear power plants and small ASMMS will complement each other using different types of fuel produced from the waste of a particular type of reactor, and so on in a circle, which is a closed NFC.
Nevertheless, the issue of reducing the size of stations – the so–called ASMM, low-power nuclear power plants - is tied to current technologies. To reduce the size of the station , it is vital:
– new structural materials-neutron reflectors (which will reduce the critical mass of fuel)
– other effective ways of generating electricity, in addition to steam turbine rotation (the turbine hall takes up a lot of space, as well as steam circulation and cooling circuits)
– self-regulation of the nuclear decay process inside the reactor core (the so-called Feoktistov reactor, theoretically capable of self-regulation due to the physical laws of nuclear reaction), which will reduce cumbersome multi-stage safety and control systems
– a fundamentally new type of fuel (for potential ASMMS, there are developments of granular composite uranium fuel resistant to destruction by heat; balls consisting of uranium and graphite, covered with a layer of ceramics)
Ideally, an atomic "battery" should be obtained with a single fuel load for the entire service life, generating stable heat that turns into electricity without the participation of a turbine (thermoelectric converter or similar).
In the story submitted to the contest, I tried to describe exactly such an "ideal battery".

The text of a science fiction work
The horizon line was hidden by mountains – covered with forests on the slopes, as if unshaven. Vasily stumbled over his own thought, scratched his slightly prickly chin and looked around. The forest and the foothills kept the night cool well and for a long time, and the morning felt chilly, which made me want to either go back to bed, or wash up properly and go to the work site right now to wait for the helicopter.
A floorboard creaked behind him. He turned around. His partner was standing on the threshold, wiping his head with a towel. Eight years younger, short and seemingly skinny, but in fact wiry, nimble and with long arms – it turns out perfectly to put together stubborn hard-to-reach wires.
– Already to work, Comrade Dyatlov, huh? – he faked a greeting and wiped his face with a towel. He raised his head, squeezed his eyes shut, inhaled and exhaled noisily, with pleasure.
– Of course, I'll take all the uranium for myself, but I won't leave anything for you, Professor, – Vasily Dyatlov replied, yawned into his fist and walked back into the house.
He was still badly oriented from unaccustomed, but it is impossible to get lost in a log house, antique, as if from the century before last. The hall, the kitchen and two rooms – that's the whole house; the Russian stove glistened with snow-white fresh plaster. A brand-new electric stove gleamed nearby, and a boiler hung in the other corner. Also – brand new. He and Yura Kurchatov – in fact, that's why he responded to the "professor" – installed it themselves yesterday after work. Firstly, there is not much trouble, and secondly, it will be nice to look at the fruits of your labors firsthand.
A satellite phone beeped in the next room. An alarm clock? Dyatlov was distracted, and when he turned around again, he realized that in the colorful abundance of embroidery on the walls and chairs, at first he did not notice the hostess of the house. She was leaning over the table behind the stove, cooking something.
– Maria Alexandrovna, good morning. Can I help you with something?
– Good morning, good morning. Thank you, Vasily, I'll do everything myself, I'm almost done," she replied loquaciously. In fact, it seems that her name was Narien, and her patronymic was different, but she herself allowed not to remember the name unusual to the ear. Sandy-swarthy, slightly slanted, cheekboned, she looked very characteristic even in her well over half a century. Of course: local after all.
The phone rang again. Dyatlov strode through the kitchen, stepped into a patch of dawn sunlight and grabbed the phone. Not an alarm clock: an incoming call.
– I'm listening.
– Good morning, Vasily. We'll be there in about forty minutes, come up slowly," they told him and disconnected.
Clearly, concisely, in a military way. Nothing superfluous. However, the workers who deliver nuclear fuel by helicopter are clearly not recruited from the average engineering staff, and the subscription for state secrets is certainly taken…
Vasily rummaged in his bag, belatedly remembered that the soap was already in the bath, and went to wash. An iron basin with water stood on the stones warm from the evening kindling. In summer and autumn, it still goes anywhere, but in winter it probably cools down in a couple of hours, and in the morning you have to "walrus". But never mind, you won't have to anymore. A boiler has been brought, there will be hot water at any time when needed. And from today, if all the work is done properly, there will be extremely stable electricity. Where is it without him?
It is difficult, of course, to realize that by the two thousand hundredth year in some regions of the country there is still no electricity supply, except for a couple of diesel generators for local administration and a medical center. But as it is... or rather, it was. But it's not scary, because today this mess will end.
Maria Alexandrovna had already set the table by his return. Pastries, sour milk, fresh herbs – nothing too heavy for breakfast. Dyatlov remembered yesterday's lamb dinner with a slight nostalgia and finished his breakfast in record time. The barely discernible smell of meat languishing in the oven floated through the house – apparently, today there will be something no less satisfying. But – after work.
– Thanks, Mom. You should know how much I missed your food," his partner said, walked around the table and hugged the hostess of the house by the shoulders.
She narrowed her eyes with a smile and patted his hand affectionately:
– Another time, bring your grandchildren, they need to eat well.
– Do you think I'm not feeding them, or what?
– In the fresh air, everything is more satisfying! – the hostess answered in the same tone.
It was impossible to argue with that.
After saying goodbye to the hostess, they packed up their things, tools and left for the place of work. Not far away: about ten minutes by car on a bumpy dirt road, but it is more reasonable to carry a couple of boxes with very expensive devices than to drag them on yourself.
They arrived at the site on time: the roar of helicopter blades could already be heard from afar. With them, the helicopter landed on the platform, and passengers jumped out of the cockpit and began unloading sealed containers. Square boxes the size of an average pot looked light, but in fact weighed fifty kilograms each. A significant part of the mass is the packaging for fuel pellets made of uranium–238. Inside there are several handfuls of ceramic balls. If desired – and until the safety chief sees it – you can even hold one in your hands.
Separately, the last two containers were unloaded with starting pellets with uranium-235. The critical number of balls already measured at the packing site will trigger a self-sustaining equilibrium reaction in the reactor. All that remains before the actual start-up is to make sure that the fuel capsule is sealed, and the thermoelectric generator supplies the rated current to the transformers.
The procedure is already familiar. How many such reactors are there in remote corners of the country? And it would seem that only fifteen years have passed since the first project…
Of course, I had to wait a little while until the atomic bonfire inside the reactor flared up to operating parameters. During this time, the entire team – seven people, including the helicopter pilots – ate in tense silence, contemplating the sensor readings, four Narien pies, taken by Kurchatov.
Finally, armed with the appropriate devices, Dyatlov climbed into the transformer booth. His partner at the same time, wearing a gas mask, began to check the tightness of the station.
However, "stations" is a big word. The capsule, half-submerged in a concrete pit, would fit into the helicopter cabin without any problems if the mass allowed: a little heavy. And it can feed two hundred houses at the rate of ten kilowatts each.
Even in his not particularly long century, Dyatlov happened to find a reduction in the size of nuclear power plants of minimum power by about four times. Perhaps one or two more breakthroughs in the technology of superconducting alloys – and an atomic "battery" will fit, if not in your pocket, then under the hood of a car for sure. Or rather, an atomic "candle". This is how it is customary to call the type of their work. Fuel burns out evenly, just like a candle, does not require intermediate control and overload. And most importantly, it's incredibly safe. Even if the case is suddenly damaged, it will not be possible to break the ceramic fuel ball and get radioactive waste.
– Everything is normal. Now it would be good to give a constant load, so as not to torment the batteries," Dyatlov said matter–of-factly, hiding the tools and taking out a tablet with a blank report. Since the beginning of the year, this was the fifth such object, and the sequence of actions has already become somewhat familiar. Preparation, fuel intake, loading, station start-up, report.
"Look, you've lost uranium," the "professor" suddenly bent down, picked something up from the ground and handed it to him.
Dyatlov squinted, then pulled a dosimeter pen out of his breast pocket and reached out to flick his partner's forehead with it.
– Do you think I can't tell a pellet from gravel? Seriously?
He jumped back and laughed:
– But who knows you!
 

– And this is the joke of a person who never entered the room with the capsule at his first object, – Vasily put the dosimeter in place and went to the car to load suitcases with equipment into the back. – Well done, you're growing up, Professor. You'll be leaving alone soon.
– Come on, – he quickly looked around, as if he was ashamed of his colleagues, and scratched his head. – Let's go, we have to go already.
Getting into the car, Vasily looked at the small complex of two booths for the last – most likely – time. The wires went from them past the trees towards the village. In one there is a reactor, in the other there are transformers and batteries. The walls were painted with traditional local patterns so that they would not be so conspicuous by their concrete urban grayness in the middle of the forest. They will not have to be touched if everything functions normally. Only to guard. Fuel replacement – in fifteen years.
And how in general can you continue to stubbornly burn coal, throwing it into the eternally hungry furnace by tons and tons, when a couple of kilograms of uranium do the same and even more? And this fuel on Earth – for thousands of years.
– What would you do if it really was a fuel pellet? Kurchatov asked when they drove a little away from the station.
– I wasn't, – Dyatlov snapped his fingers on the steering wheel. – But if the truth suddenly fell out when loading, no one would notice it. She's not phonetic.
He glanced quickly at his partner.
– Is it still difficult?
– No, it's fine, – Yuri shrugged his shoulders. – Just…
It's just that, no matter what, it's still hard to get used to the idea that nuclear power is much safer than any other. But for a young partner, this only means that he needs to refresh his professional knowledge. After all, any fear comes from ignorance. And, no matter how the sellers of gas, coal and oil squawk, no matter how they try to convince them of the need to buy up their leftovers at exorbitant prices, it is much easier and more realistic for an ordinary person to burn at home from a gas boiler than to be poisoned by radiation. And there is nothing to say about ecology…
Maria Alexandrovna prepared a whole feast for their return. But it was no less a pleasure to immediately, at the entrance, wash your hands with hot, freshly heated water with a brand-new boiler.
– Well, how do you like it, Maria Alexandrovna? – squinting at the lamp under the ceiling, Dyatlov asked.
"We'll get used to it," she replied cheerfully.
Kurchatov chuckled and patted his mother's wrinkled, strong palm:
– We'll get used to it. That's for sure!

List of sources used
1. Feoktistov L. P. Selected works. — 2007 // Electronic library "History of Rosatom" URL: http://elib .biblioatom.ru/text/feoktistov_izbrannye-trudy_2007/go ,350/ (date of request: 11.11.2022).
2. Advances in Small Modular Reactor Technology Developments // Internationat Atomic Energy Agency URL: https://aris.iaea.org/Publications/SMR_Book_2020.pdf (date of application: 11.11.2022).
3. G.G. Andreev, A.N. Dyachenko INTRODUCTION TO CHEMICAL TECHNOLOGY OF NUCLEAR FUEL. Tomsk: Tomsk Polytechnic University Publishing House, 2010.