The moon’s outline had a murky quality, as if its surface were shrouded in black fog; a dark-on-dark contrast against its parent planet that confounded the eyes.
There was something dreadful in the beauty of the scene before them. Somehow Lamont managed to retrieve a second cigarette from his pocket, hand it to Rosemary and light it without either of them pulling their eyes away from the panoramic observation window. Rosemary took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and made her way mechanically past the central console to the place where the others were standing. Lamont followed.
Captain Carter was there, leaning both hands on the cane that was planted between his feet. As was Phobos, hunching just slightly by habit to be sure that his head cleared the ceiling. Chief Santana sat on the bench in front of the console, one leg crossed over the other, her hands folded in the lap of her skirted uniform. Raj Singh and Sandra Ucan sat at their respective stations, with Lazarus and Abigail hovering at their sides; their long night on deck was testified to by a scattering of empty coffee cups on the lip of the console. Behind them was Ed Spratt, who leaned over the large monitor at the center of the console, smoke curling from the pipe clenched between his teeth. All eyes were fixed, as if hypnotized, on the window.
The star-speckled nebulae had been entirely blocked by the massive blue planet. The glow emanating from its surface could hardly be called light, but in the inky blackness of the outer system, the slowly swirling clouds held a ghostly luminescence that suggested terrifying, infinite depth. The world, seemingly flat in its self-illumination, now served as a canvas for an even stranger picture. Set against it, taking up a significant portion of the window’s view, was a smaller globe. Its outline had a murky quality, as if its surface were shrouded in black fog; a dark-on-dark contrast against its parent planet that confounded the eyes. Adding to the optical confusion was a sliver of brightness, like a long needle, that emerged from the hazy surface of the satellite and thrust itself out into space, roughly in the direction of Westward. Try as he might, Lamont could not make out any distinct features on the object, but it must have been made of a highly reflective material.
“What are we looking at?” He asked quietly, the question directed at no one in particular.
It was Spratt who answered, grasping the bowl of his pipe to pull it from his mouth. His eyes were featureless circles as his thick glasses reflected the blue incandescence of the planet and the green glow of the monitor. “It’s a tower. A single artificial tower. Hundreds of miles tall.”
Next: Unknown and Unexpected
I love how you described the effect of his glasses. Very effective.