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From the Microcosmicon, 36:
It glinted like a forlorn beacon in the night of space.
“No heat from it,” the captain read from his control panel.
“Never seen anything like that before,” his companion muttered. “Let’s turn back.”
“I bet the Empress would want it among her crown jewels. We go.”
So the spaceship approached the light. From up close, it was no larger than a life capsule, suspended by a thin rope.
Then the captain saw it taking shape behind the radiance. The fish whose fangs opened like jagged mountains on a starless cosmic throat-chasm. Its body going on. And on. And on.
MQS



