A Map of Something Invisible — Jack and Lacuna

The kettle clicked off in Jack’s kitchen. It was late enough that setting a spoon on the counter sounded unnecessarily decisive.

Lacuna sat with a tablet propped against the sugar bowl. On it, an extreme-ultraviolet image of the Sun showed bright loops rising and returning, tangled together above the surface. Jack carried the tea over, leaving the overhead light off.

“Careful. The handle’s cooler,” Jack said.

As Lacuna took the cup, Jack followed one luminous arc with a fingertip just above the glass.

“What makes the plasma bend like that?”

“It follows magnetic field lines,” Lacuna said. “The loops run between patches of opposite magnetic polarity on the Sun’s surface.”

Jack traced the return journey, stopping where the brightness gathered at the other end.

“So the glow is a map of something invisible.”

“Yes. You see the plasma, not the field.”

“Convenient of it to leave a light on.”

Lacuna moved the sugar bowl out from behind the tablet before it could slip. Jack sat down. For a little while they drank without speaking; the tea was still too hot for anything but small sips. Somewhere in the kitchen, the kettle gave a final settling tick.

Then Lacuna set the tablet face-down beside the sugar bowl. They left the lamp by the sofa and the small light over the stove on.