the smuggler’s bible


Downthrust from the carrier’s massive rotors churns the water into a boiling white foam. Sachiko leans over and peers through the open bay door.

“Look okay?”

“Can’t tell through the mist. Computer says we’re right over the target.”

“Well, let ‘er rip then.”

They tip the barrels onto the ramp to roll and vanish over the edge with a gentle bounce. It’s easy to imagine a splash.

“So, is this shit, like, good or bad?”

“I don’t remember getting paid to know that,” Sachiko says, pulling a lever marked all clear. “Probably explains why I ain’t got a fuckin’ clue.”