As he flipped to Chapter 4, "The Green’s Function Method," the library around him began to blur. It wasn't a dizzy spell. The wooden table began to lose its "woodness," dissolving into a shimmering lattice of carbon atoms. His coffee cup became a probability cloud of ceramic shards.
"It’s not chaos," Arthur whispered, watching a Cooper pair glide past him in a perfect, superconducting slipstream. "It’s choreography."
Arthur looked down at the book. The equations on the page were no longer terrifying squiggles of Greek letters; they were the sheet music for the light hitting the windows and the blood pumping in his veins.
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