Kael looked. Then he looked again.
In the glass-domed botanical station on Europa, “hease” was the most valuable currency—a rare, breathable essence extracted from the moon’s subsurface vents. Lyra was a hease-harvester, and she’d just found a snowflake. hease snowflake
Lyra held up the geode. The snowflake inside caught the station’s low light and scattered it into faint rainbows. “Look.” Kael looked
