the smuggler’s bible

Rodomontade

Rodomontade saves up every dollar he can scrounge for six years to buy a shuttle ticket and still he can only afford the roulette. No schedule, no route map. Just light speed and a pod they drop like a brick at the first planet they hit after you pull your cord.

Breathe in, breathe out. He tries to be patient, dials his watch down to milliseconds and stares at the numbers, counting heartbeats with his hand poised just over the rope.

Breathe in, breathe out. He wonders what his odds are. He wonders how long she waited before the plunge.