““I see you’re curious about my hood,” he says. His tone is unpleasant to my ears, the sound of someone drawing a line and daring you to cross it. “Yes, sir,” I say without hesitating. He squints at me. “So. Ask.” I consider his expression, wondering if he means it. I almost look at my father for confirmation, but the idea of needing permission to ask a simple question irks me. “What animal did we learn this technology from?” I finally say. Dr. Albatur smirks. “So very N’Terra of you, Miss English,” he says. “To assume everything we know is from this hot little globe. No, what I wear isn’t an innovation of Faloiv. This technology is of the Origin Planet: the material is from the hull of the Vagantur.” My forehead wrinkles involuntarily. “I wasn’t aware we dismantled the ship for personal items,” I say.””
