Harry stared at the infinite space from the observation deck. The points of light blurred, twitched and lunged about. What was happening to the universe? The phenomenon panicked him. But then he remember they had Mr. Black on board. Magician! some called him. Heretic! others protested. Liar! Fraud! Messiah! No one knew for sure.
Nevertheless, the universe was threatening to fall apart, so there was nothing to be lost by taking a chance on “the man who could repair the stars.”
Mr. Black knocked on the observatory door. “All finished,” he said.
Harry didn’t understand. Everything outside still twitched and shimmered. The universe certainly didn’t look fixed. But Mr. Black invited Harry to see for himself. Black led Harry to the bottom of the staircase which led to the cargo hold, and pointed to a clump of steel which held one of the steps upright.
“See, it was just a loose weld joint. Only took me a couple of minutes.” Mr. Black took hold of the step and yanked it forcefully, but the platform didn’t budge. “I’d say these stairs are as good as new, Chief!” Mr. Black said cheerfully.
Harry’s face dropped. The ad online. A typo. Humanity was doomed. Harry sunk into his officer’s cockpit and flicked on the monitor.
Mr. Black: The Man who could repair the stars,” the ad said “Astrophysicists HATE him!”
Now Harry understood why.