She saw another blob of the floating algae, and out of impulse, fetched a container and scooped it up. Then she carefully labelled each sample jar, recording the time, date, and provenience.

On the other side of the launch, Felix was still hanging over the side, staring down at the water. Kevina was about to pull him back, when Michaela’s voice over the com said, “We’re reading five by five, as the old saying goes. Water temperature is thirty-two degrees Celsius. Depth at your location is two thousand three hundred meters. Wind is point two knots with an ambient air temperature of twenty-nine degrees. Swells are running point six meters from crest to trough. I’ll save the chemistry until you get back, but wow, it’s like nothing on Earth, that’s for sure.”

“Roger that. I’m headed back.”

“Good. Don’t linger. Word is that Bill Martin is feeding us lasagna tonight. Like, the real thing. Noodles, tomato sauce, garlic, parsley, spinach, and the fixings. All but cheese.”

Kevina smiled. “Wouldn’t miss that for the world. See you at the dock.”

She turned. “Kiddo, you aren’t going to believe what we’re having for supper tonight.”

He was still on his belly, rubbing his fingers together. He studied them thoughtfully, and then rubbed his hand on the fabric of his overalls.

“Felix? What’s the matter?”

“My fingers itch.”

He wiggled back from the gunwale and offered his hands. She studied the delicate skin of his fingers, seeing nothing more than a greasy sheen. “That looks pretty good.”

Nevertheless, she used the rag to wipe them dry. “There, good as new. But you do me a favor. Don’t touch anything. It might be dangerous?”

“How do you know?”

“Well, little man, you don’t. And you don’t want to find out. I know you were fascinated by that stuff that looked like algae. What if it had started to eat the skin off of your fingers? Hmm? That would really hurt, and all it would leave behind is bloody bones.”

“Okay.”

“Good, because if it had eaten your fingers, you couldn’t have lasagna tonight. You wouldn’t be able to hold a fork. Not with just bones left.”

“What’s lazanna?”

“Lasagna. It’s wondrous and tasty like you’ve never known.”

“There’s more, Mama.”

“More lasagna?”

“Of that sticky stuff,” he told her. “It’s on the side of the boat.”

She glanced over, seeing little greenish-blue blobs sticking to the launch’s hull at the water line. More of it floated around them. Curious stuff. She wondered how it managed to survive, then figured from the color that it must have some manner of photosynthesizing. The chemistry required to use sunlight to create proteins and sugars was the same on Donovan as it was on Earth.