A couple millimeters and everything changes. They call it the butterfly effect, I think: how small things ripple out, bring a storm’s worth of consequences. But I just call that life. Davey said his finger slipped. When unauthorized people came in, we were just supposed to find them and ship them back. That was protocol: send them back, let the people on the other end handle it. Otherwise it messes with the whole deal. Arrangements have to be made for time travel—it’s all technical, and deals with quantum physics and other things I can’t pronounce. We were just the people who handled logistics on our end—like ferrymen on the Styx. Hence the Coyote nickname; we got people who didn’t want to be where they were to more hospitable climes. I’m not sure how the temporal end works, but the gist is this: when you time travel, if you don’t do it right, you screw everything up. Because everything exists at once—the past, present—and it’s all in equilibrium, balanced on a precarious fulcrum.
What do You think about The Rapture: A Sci-Fi Novel?
