He reached out. His fingers, clumsy and numb, hovered an inch from the surface. He could feel the cold radiating off it, a negative heat. His arm began to tremble from the shoulder down.
His fingers touched the sphere.
He knelt. The sphere seemed to grow, its surface a smoky mirror showing him a pale, frightened face he didn't recognize. Don’t think about the sticking. Don’t think about the melting. Just… close the circuit. cold fear trainer
"I… can't," he whispered. His hands, usually so steady, were curled into white-knuckled fists at his sides. The cold was a weight, pressing the air from his lungs. He reached out
"Pick it up," the voice commanded.