One of these days, he decided, he was going to sneak into Gabbie's room and throw away all the little rubber balls the redhead liked to squeeze while she studied. She had kept her formidable grip on his arm until they were both planted here in the Sahara Tech conference room.ĭennis rubbed his arm just above the elbow. Gabbie had kicked open the door to his room and hauled him by his ear into the shower, ignoring his howling protests and his modesty. Now he recalled what power on Earth had dragged him here.Īt seven a.m. " Will you straighten up and pay attention?"ĭennis sat up quickly, blinking. "Dennis!" Gabriella Versgo elbowed him in the ribs, whispering sharply.
"And so we see, people, that by using zievatronics alternate realities appear to be almost within our reach, presenting possibilities for bypassing both space and time."ĭennis nursed his hangover near the back of the crowded conference room, and wondered what power on Earth could have dragged him out of bed on a Monday morning to come down here and listen to Marcel Flaster expound about zievatronics. Dennis wondered what could have ever have converted a once-talented mind into a boring, tendentious administrator. But that had been long ago, before any of the younger scientists present had ever considered careers in reality physics. Once upon a time, Marcel Flaster might have been one of the shining lights of physics. At the front of the dimly lit conference room, the portly, gray-haired director of the Sahara Institute of Technology paced back and forth - staring at the ceiling with his hands clasped behind his back - while he pontificated ponderously on a subject he clearly barely understood.Īt least that's how Dennis Nuel saw it, suffering in silence in one of the back rows.
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