Dark matter is the invisible glue that keeps galaxies from falling apart. Back in the 1930s, Fritz Zwicky suspected its existence, and in the 1970s Vera Rubin proved that without it, stars would fly apart.
Deep in a Canadian mine, there's a barrel holding 3269 kilograms of liquid argon — a clear fluid that looks like very cold water. This barrel is the DEAP-3600 detector, and its job is to catch dark matter particles, which are thought to permeate the universe but barely interact with ordinary matter.
In a dark mine under the Italian Alps, a tank holds three tons of liquid xenon. When a particle hits it, it knocks faint flashes of light and electron clouds out of the atoms. Following these tracks, physicists hope to see an ultra-rare decay: a xenon-136 nucleus turning into barium-136, emitting two electrons and no neutrinos.
Deep beneath the Apennine Mountains, in a tank holding three tons of liquid xenon, something gives a barely perceptible shudder every few days. It's a solar neutrino, a ghostly particle born in the Sun's thermonuclear furnace, that has traveled 150 million kilometers through empty space and solid rock to finally collide with a xenon nucleus.
A pool of the purest water, into which tiny, almost invisible droplets occasionally fall. Each leaves a barely perceptible ripple, and capturing it requires years of patience. That is what the hunt for solar neutrinos looks like in the DEAP-3600 detector — a huge vat of liquid argon hidden deep underground.