For twenty-two years, the Swift Observatory has watched the universe tear itself apart — gamma-ray bursts, dying stars, the violent grammar of deep space — from a quiet orbit 214 miles above our world. When the sun's restlessness began pulling it earthward, humanity sent a small spacecraft called Link to catch it, only to watch Link spin helplessly out of control. By October, Swift will return to the atmosphere that once launched it, burning away in a moment that asks us to consider what we owe to the instruments that have so faithfully extended our sight.