Timecaster: Supersymmetry Read Online Free PDF Page A

carbon nanotubes, repairing the damage that occurred when I “accidentally fell down in the back of the paddy wagon a couple of times” according to Teague. Thankfully, I’d also been given a painkiller, so the large and scary-looking needle only made me cry a little bit.
    I had a little over forty minutes before my trial recommenced. Apparently, they’d found one of my wives—the Alter-Vicki who lived at our regular address. But the other suddenly disappeared from the radar. I guessed Alter-Talon block# bananacibookI pued her chip from transmitting. That meant my chance of being freed was zero.
    So not only had I failed myself and Vicki, but I’d also failed the half a million people of Boise. Even if, by some miracle, I got out of jail, rescued my wife, got the TEV back from the brewery, and sent Boise back to its proper location (sans intelligent, carnivorous dinosaurs), I also needed to stop Michio Sata’s murderous rampage while simultaneously convincing him to give me the antidote for the nanopoison he’d injected me with.
    Also, I had a hangnail. Not the lead item on my priority list, but those things really sting.
    My only good bit of luck was the Miranda pill had finally worn off, so I could close my eyes in silence without being informed of my right to remain silent.
    A guard stuck his head in the infirmary, while Dr. Mengele tapped on his nanotube needle with a small hammer, to make sure he filled in every last crack in my bones. Nanotubes were the strongest substance known to man. I briefly considered trying to snatch a needle to use as a weapon, but the six guards in the room were watching me like I was the last meatball on a buffet spread at a fat farm. A meatball they all wanted to shoot.
    “The prisoner has a visitor,” said the guard.
    “All finished,” the doctor said, smiling. “Try not to lie on your stomach for the next thirty-eight minutes of your life, or these won’t set properly.”
    I thanked him, putting on my bright orange prison shirt. It had a large smiley face on the front. Who said death row had to be dreary?
    The six guards, plus the new arrival, lead me in wrist and leg shackles out of the infirmary, down a hallway decorated with more smiley faces, over to the visiting area. The booths had stools welded to the floor, and a wall of thick, unbreakable glass separating the inmates from the guests.
    Using a marker, the guard who announced I had a visitor wrote the number 98829202 on my palm. Once I was sat on the stool, the guards all backed off, allowing me my state-guaranteed right to privacy. I faced an empty stool, waiting for my mystery guest. Would it be Alter-Talon? Teague? Sata? A reporter, who wanted a final statement? Some relative? On my earth, my only living blood relatives were my parents, who moved to Northern Ireland after the country gained independence. The thought of seeing them calmed me some, even though they were only alternate versions of the real thing.
    Then Vicki walked into the visiting area and I actually did smile, my heart getting lighter. She was a red-head, one of the few natural ones left in the country, and her face and body were as close to perfection as human anatomy could get. But Vicki’s most attractive trait was her personality. She radiated an inner magnetism that made people happy to be around her. I’d caught hundreds of murderers, rapists, and bad guys, but marrying Vicki was easily the single best thing I’d ever done with my life.
    My smile faded when she sat across from me. Her breasts were too large, lips too full, hair too long. This wasn’t my real wife. This was Alter-Vicki, Alter-Talon’s wife.
    I pressed my earlobe and spoke the numbers printed on my arm, accessing her headphone. I couldn’ applause.
    &osd at the same time.
    ett hear her through the thick glass, but her voice was loud and clear in my head.
    “I did what you asked, sir,” Alter-Vicki said.
    She didn’t look happy to see me. In fact, she looked somewhere