The Fragment

“How old?” I ask.

“Older than its star,” she answers.

Our ships dock above the tapered crescent: Its sun-facing side awash in clouds, ocean, and continents equivalent to a thousand Earths.

“A broken fragment,” she continues, “of a Dyson sphere or Niven ring.”

Copyright © by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

Discover more of my Aethereal Musings.

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