Buster turns away and holds it close to his face, examining it with simian curiosity, sniffing it as if it might be edible. Specko springs across the room and lowers his shoulder into Buster’s chest. Buster hits the wall with a smack and falls to the floor, grabbing the back of his head. The package skitters away.

Buster turns away and holds it close to his face, examining it with simian curiosity, sniffing it as if it might be edible. Specko springs across the room and lowers his shoulder into Buster’s chest. Buster hits the wall with a smack and falls to the floor, grabbing the back of his head. The package skitters away.

Specko pulls out a perfect little gold cube. He holds it up on the palm of his hand, then flips it into the air, like a diamond dealer casually flipping some mega-faceted beauty in the air to emphasize his disregard for its great value.

There’s a soupy, high-temperature brew of quarks and glouons seething around in there, maybe a miniaturization of the Big Bang as bits of gold and titanium collide at hyperspeeds, blasting millions of particles into honeycombed fly catchers.

There’s a soupy, high-temperature brew of quarks and glouons seething around in there, maybe a miniaturization of the Big Bang as bits of gold and titanium collide at hyperspeeds, blasting millions of particles into honeycombed fly catchers.