The Download: Quantum computing for health, and why the world doesn't recycle more nuclear waste Plus: The FBI has admitted it's buying Americans' location data. In a laboratory on the outskirts of Oxford, a quantum computer built from atoms and light awaits its moment. The device is small but powerful--and also very valuable. Infleqtion, the company that owns it, is hoping its abilities will win $5 million at a competition next week. The prize will go to the quantum computer that can solve real health care problems that conventional "classical" computers are unable to solve. But there can be only one big winner--if there is a winner at all.

Breakthroughs, discoveries, and DIY tips sent every weekday. Safety workers recently encountered a scenario straight out of a sci-fi film while surveying a decommissioned nuclear weapons plant in South Carolina. According to the US Department of Energy, on July 3 a team at the Savannah River Site near the Georgia border, detected an irradiated wasp nest that exhibited a radiation level 10 times higher than the federal regulatory limit. The hazardous insect abode was located near a set of tanks filled with liquid nuclear waste, although the team didn't detect any leaks. Instead, experts believe the nest set off Geiger counters through what's known as "onsite legacy radioactive contamination."

If you take the cosmic view of Sellafield, the superannuated nuclear facility in north-west England, its story began long before the Earth took shape. About 9bn years ago, tens of thousands of giant stars ran out of fuel, collapsed upon themselves, and then exploded. Flung out by such explosions, trillions of tonnes of uranium traversed the cold universe and wound up near our slowly materialising solar system. And here, over roughly 20m years, the uranium and other bits of space dust and debris cohered to form our planet in such a way that the violent tectonics of the young Earth pushed the uranium not towards its hot core but up into the folds of its crust. Within reach, so to speak, of the humans who eventually came along circa 300,000BC, and who mined the uranium beginning in the 1500s, learned about its radioactivity in 1896 and started feeding it into their nuclear reactors 70-odd years ago, making electricity that could be relayed to their houses to run toasters and light up Christmas trees. Sellafield compels this kind of gaze into the abyss of deep time because it is a place where multiple time spans – some fleeting, some cosmic – drift in and out of view. Laid out over six square kilometres, Sellafield is like a small town, with nearly a thousand buildings, its own roads and even a rail siding – all owned by the government, and requiring security clearance to visit. Sellafield's presence, at the end of a road on the Cumbrian coast, is almost hallucinatory. Then, having driven through a high-security gate, you're surrounded by towering chimneys, pipework, chugging cooling plants, everything dressed in steampunk. The sun bounces off metal everywhere. In some spots, the air shakes with the noise of machinery. It feels like the most manmade place in the world. Since it began operating in 1950, Sellafield has had different duties. First it manufactured plutonium for nuclear weapons.

In the summer of 2018, a hobby drone dropped a small package near the lip of Stromboli, a volcano off the coast of Sicily that has been erupting almost constantly for the past century. As one of the most active volcanoes on the planet, Stromboli is a source of fascination for geologists, but collecting data near the roiling vent is fraught with peril. So a team of researchers from the University of Bristol built a robot volcanologist and used a drone to ferry it to the top of the volcano where it could passively monitor its every quake and quiver until it was inevitably destroyed by an eruption. The robot was a softball-sized sensor pod powered by microdoses of nuclear energy from a radioactive battery the size of a square of chocolate. The researchers called their creation a dragon egg. Dragon eggs can help scientists study violent natural processes in unprecedented detail, but for Tom Scott, a materials scientist at Bristol, volcanoes were just the beginning.

How can we create robots that can carry out important tasks in dangerous environments? Machine learning is supporting advances in the field of robotics. To find out more, we talked to Dr Rustam Stolkin, Royal Society Industry Fellow for Nuclear Robotics, Professor of Robotics at the University of Birmingham, and Director at A.R.M Robotics Ltd, about his work combining machine learning and robotics to create practical solutions to nuclear problems. There are many definitions of engineering, but the one I like is "the creation of artefacts for the benefit of mankind". Engineering is a way of using science to be creative and to create novel technologies which can bring major societal and economic benefit.

Nimble-fingered robots that exactly mimic the movements of a human hand could soon be used to help decommission nuclear power stations. Remote-controlled robots with hand-like manipulators are used in many situations that are difficult or dangerous for humans, such as bomb disposal. However, their movements are typically controlled by human operators via joysticks, which limits their dexterity. To address this, Miika Perä and Hamid Reza Zaheri at London firm Cambrian Intelligence have built a system that lets robotic arms and hands emulate hand movements exactly. To guide the robot, a human carries out the desired actions either in front of a video camera or while wearing a glove that captures movement.