The Methane Tides of Memory
ver 1.0 (fresh off the line, uncooked)
The methane lake lapped quietly against the reinforced polymer dock, each wave refracted indigo and violet under Saturn's distant glow. Marnie adjusted the density regulator on her thermal suit, the familiar hiss of pressurization a comfort in the otherwise alien silence of Titan's atmosphere. At -290°F, the air around her was thick enough to swim through, though no human had survived such an attempt. The fishing pole in her gloved hands wasn't much different from those her ancestors had used on Earth, save for the molecular-bond stabilizers and the hydrocarbon-resistant compounds in its construction.
"Catch anythin' worth a damn yet?" came the familiar drawl from behind her.
