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sweeping over her. She went down and lay still, her long hair trailing smoke.
Gene dragged her, lifted her up, and threw her into the machine. He dove in
after, the beam weapon clattering to the floor, out of reach.
The hatch closed immediately, and darkness fell.
 Vaya! Gene reached for her. She was moaning softly, semi-conscious. Her skin
felt hot and oily, like under-cooked meat. The stench of burning hair filled
the compartment.
He let her down. She seemed pretty bad. If only he could see.
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The lights came on.
 Dis! Is that you?
 Yes. We are activating the machine.
Gene looked down at Vaya. The left side of her entire body was beet-red.
Second-degree burns at least.
Part of her hair was singed away.
 We have a report on the condition of the machine, Dis said.
Gene got up and went into what appeared to be the control compartment. There
were two squat Umoi seats and a control panel in front of an oval view port.
He sat.
 Report, Gene said.  Is this machine real or a mock-up?
 It is the original device, in complete working order.
 Wonderful. Can it get me home?
 No. This machine  named the
Sidewise Voyager
 was tested once. It failed to work, and was abandoned. The data are stored
in the machine.
The finality of it came down on Gene like a landslide. This was it. He had
come as far as he could, to find nothing but a dead end.
His dead end. And Vaya s. A bitter lump of remorse rose at the back of his
throat.
 Is there any other service we may render at this time?
Gene took a deep breath.  No. Thank you for your hospitality.
 Please come back and visit us soon, Dis said. There was a pause. Then:  We
are very sorry.
 It s okay, Gene said.
Thirty-four
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Lab
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A strange machine had appeared on the platform. It was a sledlike affair of
brass and steel, having at the back a circular decorated screen that looked
like an open parlor fan and appeared capable of revolving.
There was a seat for the operator or pilot, upholstered in red plush velvet.
Numerous other Victorian touches graced the thing, here lace, there ornate
chasing. A quartz rod protruded from a simple control panel in front of the
operator s seat.
Linda said,  Is that it?
Incarnadine approached the platform.  I don t know. Strangest damned thing.
Jeremy said,  Jesus. I ve seen that piece of junk somewhere.
 You have?
 Yeah. I think it was in a movie.
Linda put a hand to her throat.  Oh, my. You know, I think he s right.
 It looked like something out of an H. G. Wells story. In fact  
 The Time Machine, Jeremy squealed.
 I ll be buggered, Incarnadine said.  It s a cheat.
 What? Linda said.
 The spell cheated on us.
 You ll have to explain.
 Spells are tricky animals. Sticklers for the letter of the wording. The spell
asked for  a dimensional traveling machine. Well, time is a dimension, all
right. The spell searched around, couldn t find the thing that would satisfy
the intent of the wording, so it fished this thing out of oblivion in
desperation.
 You make it sound as though the spell itself were a living thing.
 It is, in a way.
Jeremy came over.  I wonder what studio still had this thing.
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 Studio? Incarnadine said.  The wording didn t ask for a movie prop.
Delivering one would be a breach of performance.
 Huh? You mean  ?
 Well, I don t know if this improbable contraption actually works, but it just
might.
 But what world  I mean, where would you get the real thing? It was just in a
story
, for crissakes.
 When you re dealing with an infinite plethora of possibilities, anything can
be real. Somewhere, obviously, there exists a world where H. G. Wells is
fiction, and his creations fact.
Linda said,  But I thought that there were only 144,000 universes.
Incarnadine shot her a curious look.  Whoever told you that? There are only
144,000 portals in the castle. But possible universes? There are an infinite
number of those.
 Oh, I didn t know that.
 It s not common knowledge. There is some debate about the literal,
ontological existence of some of these ghost worlds, but  never mind. We
don t have time.
 What do we do now? Jeremy asked.
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 Recast the spell at a greater power output, after further debugging. We have
to nail down the wording exactly. Trouble is, we re going to have power supply
problems farther down the road. Well, it can t be helped.
Incarnadine mounted the platform, ruefully eyeing the Wellsian contrivance.
 Damn it, this isn t going the way I had planned at all.
Linda took his arm.  You ll win, Your Majesty. You always do.
 Even Superman has kryptonite.
Jeremy ran back to his computer, yelling,  I ll have it debugged in two
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