It was the size of a cricket ball, but harder, and much lighter. It felt like the husk of a strange seed blown over several seas, but when they dropped it accidentally-on-purpose from the roof of the lab, it did not shatter. It didn’t roll, either, but sat smugly on the pavement precisely where it had landed. And there were strong winds that day.
They could not make it out. They applied fire; it did not blacken. They drowned it; not a wrinkle pulled at its smooth skin.
How could they have known it only worked at 37 degrees C?