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Brushfire on Europa
sci-fiEveryone5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep
The drill bit punched through the last layer of ice. The glow rushed up the bore hole like water finding a crack, flooding the tunnel with light. Priya's instruments screamed. Whatever was down there now knew exactly where she was.
Light poured out of the bore hole and formed a slow, spinning shape above the ice, like a small blue sun. It wasn't attacking. It was waiting. Priya stepped out of the shack, raised one gloved hand, and the shape drifted gently toward her palm.
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