Alice opened her mouth to speak when light burst overhead. She had assumed the black ceiling was an artistic installation, but as the light grew, she realized her mistake. A geodesic dome built from black composite spars webbed by gel pillows was orientated toward Jupiter’s day-lit face, the cresting sunlight washing browns and reds across the room. She gazed, lost in her insignificance. Jupiter swirled above, the striated bands of ochre, beige and tan mixing with fractal detail, wave upon eddy upon ripple. It was heartbreakingly beautiful.