Buck Lingenhauser goes looking for the last 10mm socket in the universe and accidentally discovers that the broken things in his life — his apartment, his ship, his friendships, the roaches in the wall, and the voice in his head — were connected all along. My name is B.O.B. — Biomechanical Onboard Backup. I live in Buck's head. I have lived there for ten years, give or take 743 minutes he doesn't know about. The water stain on his ceiling. The 4.7-second drip of his bathroom faucet. The sentence about the skyline I have catalogued 3,471 times without once asking whether it might matter. As it turns out, it is going to matter. Today Buck has decided to do something. Against my better judgment, I am going to help him do it. Somebody should warn the universe.