The lab was a cathedral of cold light and quieter ambitions. Dr. Aris Thorne stared at the incubation tank, his breath fogging the glass. Inside, suspended in a nutrient gel that shimmered like a captive aurora, was Ovo 132.
Suddenly, the lights in the observation deck cut out. But Elias wasn't in darkness. He was standing in his childhood kitchen, twenty light-years away and thirty years in the past. He smelled cinnamon. He saw his mother, her back turned, humming a song he had forgotten. He felt a profound, crushing sense of safety he hadn't felt since he was ten years old. ovo 132
Listen if you like: