“It’s all a question of how fast the stain is spreading,” Astrid told herself, taking pleasure from the precision of numbers. How long until the dome was dark? Astrid wondered. Because Astrid had very little doubt that the stain would continue spreading. Into her head came a memory from long ago: Sam admitting to her that he was afraid of the dark. It was in his room, in his former home, the place he’d shared with his mother. It was perhaps the reason that in a sudden panic he had created the first of what would come to be known as Sammy suns. Sam had many more terrible things to be scared of
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