Sixteen Sunrises

Inside the transparent cylinder mounted in front of Élise, a drop of silicone had left the syringe with the slowness of something that distrusted the world. It had rounded itself, hesitated before touching the wall, then been caught by the capillary film. On Earth, the experiment would have been almost trivial: a slope, gravity, an imposed direction. Here, in the European laboratory, direction had to be made out of surfaces, angles, pump speeds, and a great deal of patience.

In orbit, she falls asleep and wakes in another station. The sensors have recorded it.