Once again, drunken genius Gallegher invents something without knowing that he has done so.
This time around, it’s a box that swallows things up until they reappear at now + x.
He was, Vanning reflected, an odd duck. Galloway was essentially amoral, thoroughly out
of place in this too-complicated world. He seemed to watch, with a certain wry amusement,
from a vantage point of his own, rather disinterested for the most part. And he made
things—