“It will taste of photons and lies,” Bortus said grimly.
A quick transport later, Ed, Kelly, Alara, and Isaac (the Kaylon whose expression of perpetual mild disdain never changed) stood in the Sagan ’s dripping cargo bay. They found two survivors: Dr. Aris Fen, a brilliant xenobiologist, and her husband, a nervous engineer named Klytus who was trying to re-route power through a gelatinous cube. The Orville
Bortus stared at the now-empty bottle in his hands. His voice was a low rumble of loss. “We are safe, Captain. But my vintage is gone.” “It will taste of photons and lies,” Bortus said grimly
Bortus looked at the bottle, then at the desperate faces around him. “You are asking me to weaponize… Pepto-Abysmal?” Aris Fen, a brilliant xenobiologist, and her husband,
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Ed muttered. “Red alert. Alara, get a security team. We’re going in.”
“No,” Ed whispered.
Isaac stepped forward, his optical sensor glowing. “Fascinating. The cloud’s digestive enzymes are non-random. They target specific mineral structures and organic compounds with the precision of a sommelier selecting a vintage. The moon it was consuming was rich in tricyclic hydrocarbons and volcanic salts. A ‘complex, earthy’ profile, one might say.”