A total eclipse is coming to the little observatory on the mountain, and the astronomers want to measure how starlight bends as it passes the darkened sun. There is one problem: the dome is stacked high with old glass star plates, chalked charts and brass lens rings from years of nights at the telescope. Pixel Albert has volunteered to clear the view, riding a brass telescope cradle and armed with a single bright beam of starlight.
Up here space really does seem to curve: every bounce bends gently towards the middle of the dome, as if the shadowed sun were pulling on it. Now and then a lost pocket compass tumbles out of the clutter, worth catching. The astronomers call the job Eclipse Bounce, and each cleared wall reveals another one behind it, coming in a little faster. Drop the beam three times and the eclipse is over. How much of the sky can pixel Albert open up before the sun comes back?
