55

Gray light on the screen.

The security guard announced himself, and Jeffy stooped to pick up the pistol he had dropped. He would never use it on the guy at the door. But he sure as hell might need it when he rejoined Amity, seventy-seven worlds away from this one.

Just as the man knocked again, the three buttons appeared on the screen. Jeffy had not previously used the one labeled RETURN, so he could not be absolutely certain that its purpose was to cast him back to the timeline he'd just departed, a shortcut that allowed him to avoid pressing SELECT and spared him from having to use the keypad to enter the catalog number of that world. If it had another function, if it flung him to a timeline other than where Amity waited, the delay might be the death of her.

Extreme terror had a paralytic effect. His muscles froze, and his teeth clenched so tight that his jaws ached, and he couldn't exhale, as though his lungs had shut down. Tinnitus like a thin scream filled his head, so that he didn't hear the passkey in the lock, but he saw the door coming open. He overrode all doubt and terror, pressed RETURN, and cried out in wordless frustration when that little comet of light appeared, rotating like a wheel, as the key searched for a route across the multiverse.