What if a drone never had to land? What if endurance wasn’t measured in hours or days, but in decades? T he Cold War’s Atomic Daydream The 1950s and ’60s were a fever dream of technology. Jet bombers broke records, rockets clawed into orbit, and in secret labs, engineers began sketching aircraft that could fly forever. Projects like the Convair X-6 in the U.S. and the Tu-95LAL in the USSR carried actual reactors into the air, though they never powered propulsion. Concepts lik

I n the dead of night, something stirs in the alleyways and empty lots between high-rises. Not criminals or vandals—but raccoons, coyotes, feral dogs, and entire colonies of rodents. Cities, once thought to be man-made ecosystems, are now revealing themselves as bustling habitats for wild animals adapting to the concrete jungle. But what happens when those wild neighbors cross paths with public safety, property damage, or disease? Enter drones—not as enforcers, but as silent

I magine this: A small mapping drone is halfway through surveying a wildfire perimeter. Normally, it would have to break off, land, recharge, and then resume its mission — losing precious time. Instead, a larger “mothership” drone swoops in, hovers alongside, and transfers a fresh charge mid-air. The mapping drone never leaves its station. Mission saved. That’s the promise of drone-to-drone charging — aerial refueling for the age of autonomy. It’s a concept that could unlock

Drone Swarms, New Jersey