Oliver Shorttle

A star warms its planet like an oven warms a kettle. For most sub-Neptunes (worlds larger than Earth but smaller than Neptune), the heat is enough to keep an ocean of molten rock eternally churning beneath a hydrogen sky.

In its youth, Earth resembled a beehive: it grew by sticking together from countless rocky chunks. When the main construction was over, a late swarm of meteorites rained down on the young planet — the so-called late veneer. These impacts, scientists thought, brought platinum, gold, and other rare metals to Earth's upper layers.

A telescope stares at a planet 124 light-years away and sees gases in its atmosphere that on Earth are produced by microbes. The immediate thought: life. But it's not that simple. Planet K2-18b is a sphere wrapped in a thick layer of hydrogen. In such a layer, like in a giant chemical flask, reactions take place.

If you don’t stir a layered cocktail, the heavy syrup sinks to the bottom. A young planet is much the same — a seething ocean of molten rock. As it cools, minerals crystallize: some, like iron, get heavy and sink, while others float. You’d think a dense layer would pile up at the core.