“How many of you are there now?”
Another one had just shown up: short hair, no beard, one of the tattoos but not both, scar on the hand but not the face. “Eight. Well, plus me, the original me. Nine.” George touched the voltmeter to a terminal, scowled. “Dammit.”
“Any luck?”
“Nope. Thing’s shorted all to hell.”
“So they’re just going to keep showing up?”
“It sent the ‘open’ request, but then crapped out before it could send the ‘closed’. Every me in the multiverse will eventually end up—” George Ten burst into existence on the platform. He sighed. “—here.”
No comments:
Post a Comment