![]() ![]() How could Chip manage to sound so normal at a time like this? And so angry (which was pretty much normal for Chip)? Wasn’t his head spinning too? Wasn’t his vision slipping in and out of focus? Didn’t he feel like he might throw up if he had to do anything more strenuous than breathe? ![]() “You didn’t tell us anything we’d need to know to survive in the fifteenth century.” “You’d like to keep us in the dark, wouldn’t you?” Chip accused. Or maybe it was too thin-too insubstantial. “You’re hiding, aren’t you? Staying out of sight?” It was JB’s voice again, hissing and anxious. It was like hearing something underwater, sounds from another world. ![]() Good luck.” But he couldn’t quite make sense of the words. Dimly he heard JB’s voice say, “Welcome to the fifteenth century. He could only feel time passing through him, time flipping back on itself, time pressing down, down, down. And then that image broke apart too, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. The image that burned in his mind was of his body being split into individual cells, individual atoms. Some force that had to be more than just gravity tugged on him, threatening to pull him apart from Chip and Katherine, from the Elucidator and the Taser, from his own self. Lights streamed past Jonah’s face, an unbearable glare. ![]()
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