Since I have some time off, I thought I's have another go at some science fiction art. I just read Alastair Reynolds' Galactic North, a collection of short stories, one of which is set in a city located on the underside of Europa's ice, dipping into the dark ocean below. Now, in his story, he describes the city like a conical chandelier hanging deep down. I imagine cities under the ice would look more like barnacles hanging on the icy roof. But in any case, you'd have to land on the surface before you could travel to any cities clinging to the thick ice crust above the dark ocean. is a Europan landing pad. The Jupiter texture (and the tiny Io and Ganymede textures come from Celestia - and ultimately NASA). The Europan landscape is three overlapping lattices with much dinking in the terrain editor and the DTE; models all my work. The stars and signature are PSP. Here's an image and a little story. The image is a view of A Europan landing pad. The Jupiter texture (and the tiny Io and Ganymede textures come from Celestia - and ultimately NASA). The Europan landscape is three overlapping lattices with much dinking in the DTE; models all my work. The stars and signature are PSP. The story ought to go with the novel I'm supposed to be writing in my spare time, but I haven't gotten that far yet. Thanks for looking and commenting! --- They wouldn't let an armed ship down on the surface, so they came up in a shuttle to get us. The damn thing must have been a hundred years old! I doubt the main drive could even manage a tenth of a gee without firing the plasma afterburners. Something had died in the air reclamator. I refused the offer of a drink of water and strapped in for the landing. From my seat, I had a partial view of the fading control screen in front of the pilot. A good third of the status lights glowed amber, three were red. One whole side panel was dark; life support, the pasted label proclaimed. I checked my suit and mask, just in case. On final approach, the plasma burners kicked in, as I'd guessed. Even so, we weren't pushing more than a Martian gee. My radiation senor started to blink, just a shade of yellow creeping into the green. I wasn't sure whether that came from Jupiter's magnetic tsunami or from the reactor beneath my feet. Either way, the shielding was failing. I peered over the pilot's shoulder to watch a viewscreen of Europa's surface. A fifty meter dome stood near a lonely observation tower. The scene grew closer, centering on the specks of civilization in the white and brown desolation. The dome pealed back in two layers, petals receding to expose a deep landing tunnel. It was about that time I realized the pilot was taking us in on manual. I tightened my belts. -- Lt. Commander Walker Tsume, IMN, 30 July 2519