One by one, the astronautical vessels were returning to the earth badly chewed, bitten in half, or bleached. As one mechanic laboring under a sea of stars worded it, they looked digested. A physicist standing nearby reminisced about growing up poor in a marshland littered with abandoned machinery and spoke of how much he missed his coffee can that he took along whenever he went fishing. The dead stars blinked in the open. The physicist thought of the earth and of the coffee can, and remarked that if one wished to navigate wormholes, one should expect worms.