Tents are set up around the edge of the Lens, a shanty town housing a handful of scientists, soldiers, and people whose purposes are opaque. There are machines running tests, and debriefings every evening with Jones, the suit who brought him here. His job, he is told, is to think, and that’s all he has time to do.

The huge golden ring frightens him.

He watches it at sunrise and sunset, the light flaring across its surface. They’re told to stay away, but one night, alone, he reaches out a hand. Ripples spread from his fingertips, and then are gone.


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