Keyflight

On the viewport, the stars began to move . Not the ship—the stars. They slid past like a shuffled deck of cards. The red giant winked out. The pulsar became a flute. And in their place, a new constellation appeared: a spiral of gold and emerald.

He found the command deck exactly where the salvage charts said it would be—buried under a frozen avalanche of insulation foam. And there, embedded in the central pedestal, was the Keyflight. keyflight

He wasn't on the Odyssey anymore. He was in a cathedral of light. The stars outside the viewport were not points of light, but musical notes. A red giant was a low, mournful cello. A pulsar was a frantic snare drum. And the ship—the Odyssey —was a silent piano, waiting for its first chord. On the viewport, the stars began to move

The ship shuddered.