the smuggler’s bible

de Torunia

It is true what they say: Every little bit counts. But timing counts for double.

Copernicus stares into the well of stars and watches the glistening fluid warp and rotate. His pen moves fast—just figures, no time to synthesize his data—until it scratches dry across paper.

He bends and carefully—oh, god, so carefully—dips the quill into the sky. His old life gives way beneath him, and he falls. Copernicus keeps his eyes on the dwindling circle of his laboratory. He does not blink. When it finally vanishes, he takes out his watch and notes the time.