Zoe E. Whitten's Blog, page 97

Why I hate marketing…

Me: I wish I knew how to market a book.

People Online: Oh, that's easy, stupid. You just go online and talk about your book.

Me: Okay…um, so my book is about—

PO: No, stupid, don't just talk about your book, or we'll ignore you.

Me: But you just said—

PO: Oh, sure, we want the book, eventually, but for now you should talk about yourself.

Me: I'm not sure if that's a good idea. I've got mental issues and I—

PO: Whoa, stupid, don't tell us anything personal! Christ, we don't really want to know you. We just want to pretend we know you. So give us some random stuff that doesn't involve your religious, political, or personal beliefs. And nothing honest or awkward. Just tell us something interesting to identify with you without really talking about you.

Me: … You know, at this point, I'd really rather just throw my book at you and go back to my cave.

PO: Then you have a poor attitude about selling books.

Me: Well, since we're on the topic, the handful of you who bought my books might help out by saying something.

PO: No, stupid, you can't expect us readers to act like fans from other entertainment industries. We prefer remaining silent and letting you do all the marketing yourself. It makes you look more epic when you finally do sell well. You should thank us for making you look epic.

Me: …

PO: Yep, that's enough useful advice for one day. Good luck with your new book!

Me: … Mother was right. I should have taken up alcoholism instead.

Another push for Zombie Punter, please?

So, last night, I had this plan, nay, this vision, of trying to market Zombie Punter for one night, just like I had with the free Twilight parody. Well, early on, I kinda got sabotaged by my own body and had a fatigue attack. So I wandered off to the couch after making one sale. I woke up at 6 AM, stumbled back to the computer, and…still have only one sale.

I realize it will be harder to sell a book than to give one away, but one isn't going to pay any bills. So, people who've read Zombie Punter, please, let me ask you once again to consider going to Smashwords and buying a copy for 0.99. One, because it's something like a tip for the story you read. And two, because if you buy a copy you can also leave a rating or a review.

I could try to appeal to new readers first, but here's the dealio, yo…yo. Despite being in this writing gig for four years, I'm still a POD writer to a lot of people. So any price, even 0.99, is too high to pay if there's a risk that the story sucks. I know that, you know that. We know that. They know that. But you know what? You folks who read Zombie Punter, you know it rocked. Lots of you either wrote me to say so in the blogs, or you emailed me, and there are a few favorable reviews here and there for Zombie Punter. One might even say glowing reviews.

But to really help out the sales effort on Smashwords, I could use a broad range of opinions and ratings. I appreciate the help I got when the story was first released, but now I need to make a new push and get more people onto Smashwords. So, I'm asking you to consider leaving a 0.99 tip and a rating and review as well. I cannot stress enough how much your opinion means for the success of my work. On my own, even my best ballyhoo got one sale. So obviously, very few people believe my hype. And that's depressing, but there's not much I can do about that.

I realize that the folks who thought it was a two star book or below are less likely to buy another copy just to post a low review, but hey, maybe the 2.5 crowd can still chip in their 0.99 cents. No, you can't offer just two cents. Inflation is a bitch for everyone these days. If you really can't see it in your heart to offer financial support because you hated the story that bad, you know you could leave a note on Facebook or Tumblr as a review, or on some social site. (You could even toss out a short review on Twitter.) At this point, even a bad review tweet counts as a review for me.

If you liked the book and you're flat broke, please keep the same thing in mind. There are all kinds of ways that you can do a short review and post it for free to help me get new readers. Goodreads lists Zombie Punter, so you can post a review there, or over on Amazon. I really do need to see at least 100 new sales before I can proceed with my plans for Confessions of a Zombie Lover. Without those funds, I can't hire an artist for the cover or put any money into a banner ad campaign. The book will die for lack of funds. If you claimed to like the story, I would hope that you'd want the second book to come out.

New readers, I know, I'm asking you to take a risk. But Zombie Punter is a fast read, being only 38K long. Most people can read the whole thing in an hour or two. Yes, it's zombies, but there's only a leeetle gore to make it appropriately dark. Then it gets all weird and twisty in the middle, like all my stories do. And there's a dude killing zombies with a bastard sword. Yeah! Sure, there is just a bit of teh gay in the story, but it's only a small part of the main character's various subplots. There's really a lot to like about G once you give him the chance to introduce himself. And hey, you can read the first 50% at Smashwords before you make a decision.

I'm sorry if I come across as begging, but I'm not sure readers appreciate how hard it is to promote anything without vocal support from fans. I need you, and I need your help. Without you, all I can do is scrimp and beg for one sale at a time. With your help, I might have a chance at giving G the wider audience he deserves.

So..no serial, BUT, there is a way out of this mess…

If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you know that my superhero serial, A Frosty Girl's Cure, is coming to a close, and that I'm discontinuing free serial fiction. Initially I had plans to release a paid series using Smashwords. But it was brought to my attention that Smashwords will not allow me to charge anything below 0.99 cents, and in writing to confirm that, Mark Coker informed me that serial fiction isn't allowed at Smashwords at all.

And so what to do with Confessions of a Zombie Lover? Well, it will have to go out as an ebook first. I'll be aiming for mid February, possibly even Valentine's day as the release date, giving me some time to release guest blogs and drum up more support. I need strong sales on this series because my ultimate goal after releasing all three ebooks will be to release a print omnibus edition with interior art illustrating some of the key scenes. Paying an artist to do this right will require strong sales, and not just on this book, but also on the first book, Zombie Punter.

For this reason, I'd like to urge readers to pick up copies of Zombie Punter from Smashwords through this link. If you've already read it free, please consider buying a copy to help me earn a decent wage in 2011. If you've never read it, please buy a copy and check it out. While it is a Zombie story, I consider it a dark fantasy more than horror. The differences are in minor style change and little elemental touches, like the main character wielding a replica bastard sword like a mini berserker.

Zombie Punter got a number of great reviews, but no one has yet posted a review on Smashwords. So after buying a copy and reading it, please consider leaving a rating or a review on Smashwords. You can be as brief or verbose as you like, and you can give whatever score you think is fair. But your reviews will help me out a lot in picking up new readers over the rest of the year. Who knows, if we can keep up a steady increase in sales, I might even be able to earn a semi pro rate.

Or that's the plan, and a lot of it depends on you. My current sales count on Zombie Punter is 38, so I need 138 before I can back off the ballyhoo machine. I got 300 downloads for my Twilight parody in four days, but that was a free file. So now it's time to find out how many of you are willing to chip in 0.99 and a review to help finance this series and get it developed to a print omnibus. (In theory, a cheap one, possibly even 8.99)

Maybe you can't buy one now. Okay, fine, but perhaps you can share this post through your blog, Facebook, Twitter, or Tumblr account. Let's get Zombie Punter on track to become an example of an indie fiction success story, okay?

A Frosty Girl's Cure – Chapter 38

So, I woke up in another damned desert. Yes, I know. What are the freaking odds? And you can probably guess who was standing over me, looking all relieved as I woke up.

"I am immortal, you know," I reminded Chet. "You don't always have to hover over me with puppy dog eyes just because I died."

Chet smirked. "Actually, I just got back to you. I went exploring, and my credit card works again…in City!"

I sat up, groaning at the stabbing pain it caused me. "We made it home?"

Chet's face shifted through a few odd expression before he puckered his lips and arched his brows. To me, it seemed like wasn't sure how to break some bad news to me.

After several second of him making faces at me, I groaned, "Spit it out, already! I'm a big girl, and I can take bad news."

"There isn't bad news, exactly. It's just…I got you some new clothes and, oh, here's a paper from City." Chet  handed a shopping bag and a folded paper to me.

I set the bag aside and opened the paper, reading the headline. "Miracle Man saves busload of school children. That's just super Chet, but—"

"No, look at the date," he cut me off, snickering evilly.

I did, and then I began snickering too. We're talking major villain snickering.

"Oh, this is priceless." Looking toward the sky, I beamed an evil grin. "God, I knew you had to be messing with me for a reason. This was definitely worth it."

I blew a kiss to the sky, and then tried to get up. My body responded with a distinct, "Nothin' doin', bitch," and after another major stab of pain, I gave up. "Hey, I'm really hurting here. Would you mind helping me get dressed? After that, we'll head to Idaho."

"Why go there? Shouldn't we go to City first?" Chet knelt, working gently to slip a T-shirt over my head, his confusion evident.

I couldn't answer him until after I could put down my arms and alleviate the pain. "No, I've got to confirm this with my own eyes. Home first, and evil later."

"All right, fair enough," Chet said, continuing to dress me.

It was a rather painful process, as I was nowhere near healed from my trip. I had huge holes in my skin where my blood had leaked out in the vacuum, and because that blood was destroyed during the trip across dimensions, I was going to be healing for a long time. Chet worked as slow as he could, and I gritted my teeth to avoid cursing at him for something he couldn't help. If he worked faster, It would have hurt worse. So that's what I kept telling myself.

When he finished, he muttered, "Sorry."

I strained to offer him a smile, but my teeth were still clenched when I said, "It's not your fault."

He picked me up and cradled me to his chest, and before we'd even started gaining altitude, my blood was soaking through my new clothes.

Minutes later, we were hovering over the cabin. I heard a noise and pointed in the direction of the pond. "Head over there. You'll find a small stock pond," I said. "Oh, and I don't want to be seen."

Chet engaged his stealth suit, and we drifted over the pond. There, we found Dad and David wrestling with Banjo and Sasha in the pond while Mom and I laughed merrily over their attempts to beat the panthers at drown the human.

"Damn, this cat weighs a lot more in the water!" David yelled. "I thought fat was supposed to—" And then Sasha pushed him under the water.

"We're a week early," I said, giving voice to my thoughts without meaning to.

"What, honey?" Mom asked me.

Now, in order not to confuse my readers, the other me, as in my past self, said, "I didn't say anything."

Mom sniffed the air, giving the other me an odd look. "Terry, are you bleeding?"

"Leona!" The other Terry blushed. "Geez, why don't you just ask me if I'm on the rag?"

"Ease up, Cookie," Dad said, pointing to the panthers. "The cats have got the scent too."

Both cats swam toward us, their ears rigid with concern. Looking down, I realized one of my wounds had been aggravated because of our rapid flight, and I was dripping blood into the pond.

"Uh, Chet?" I whispered, and we went straight up. Very fast. "Ur, Jet?" I whined through gritted teeth.

"Oh, sorry," he said, and we stopped. Very quickly.

Now in so much pain that I was close to screaming, I scolded him, "Jesus, Chet! I'm immortal, not invulnerable!"

"Now are we going to City?" Chet asked, ignoring me.

"No, now we are going to Forsyth, Montana," I said.

"Why?" Chet asked.

"Because I've got some time to kill, and there's someone I need to talk to. Now please, fly slower. You're making my wounds worse."

Chet did fly at a slower speed, allowing me to give him directions. Even then, I was gulping huge amounts of air.

"In a hurry to see Vicky, are we?" I joked.

Chet grinned. "Is it that obvious?"

I huffed brief laughter, ignoring the pain it caused in my chest. "At this next stop, you can take off to go see her. I'll need some time alone anyway. But whatever you do, don't go near Morgan. I will deal with him myself. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Miss Bitch," Chet replied curtly.

"Daddy," I drawled, "you ain't seen nothin' yet."

Chet set me down in front of the house. I'd been gone for so long, and yet the place was intimately familiar to me. I looked down, smiling at the irony that I was in almost the exact same body as the day Tommy and I had left to begin our new lives.

"Go see Vicky. I'll need one full day alone here." I watched him fly away before turning to look at the split logs that made up the walls of the two-floored cabin. It was a massive house which had supposedly taken my father and his three brothers nine months to build. He built it for Tommy's birth, but I was the one finally coming home.

I knocked on the door, looking up at my father when it opened. He fell to the varnished hardwood floor and began crying hysterically. Behind him, my mother rushed into the hall from the living room, and she too collapsed, weeping softly.

"I'm not a ghost." I said in a low voice.

My father looked at me, and then down at my wounds. "But you—it's been eleven years since we last saw you. How—?"

"I'm here to tell you everything that happened since then," I said, watching my mother as she crept to the door. "The first thing you should know is that Tommy is dead."

My mother leaned against the wall, and for a moment, I though she might hit the floor too. She swallowed, and then asked, "When did he die?"

"He died nine years ago, in City California. He died on Judgment Day. If you want to get completely technical, I may have to kill him again tomorrow, but we'll see about that."

"What?" my father asked, now utterly lost in confusion.

"I mean I may have to kill his clone. I'll start at the beginning, but you both need to keep your mouths shut and just listen. Can you do that?" I asked, watching them both nod. "Then may I come in?"

My father got up from the floor, stepping aside to let me in. I went to the living room, taking the wooden rocking chair where my mother had read stories to me when I was a very little girl, long before the trouble with my father started. Looking at my parents as they sat on their couch, I realized how old both of them looked.

So while they sat huddled on the same couch where my father had first seduced me, I told them everything that happened right up to the point where I'd arrived on their door.

The sun was rising when I finished, but I didn't feel tired. Instead I felt old, older than my parents, even. I felt less pain after having time to sit and heal, and I felt cleaner for the chance to speak with my biological parents.

My father cleared his throat, drawing my gaze to his guilty and weathered face. "I know this doesn't mean much, but I'm so sorry for driving you away."

"Don't be sorry," I said. "Because you couldn't keep your dirty hands off of me, I went out to see the world." I looked at my mother. "Because you were too ashamed to say anything, my brother decided that he would have to rescue me from both of you."

They both broke down, and I let them cry for a little while before I went on. "You may see it as a bad thing, but if you hadn't been lousy parents, I never would have had the chance to meet the two best parents any kid could hope for. I mean, they killed me, and then they adopted me. How cool is that?"

My half attempt at a smile quickly faded, and I looked away from them and toward the window. I wondered if Chet had arrived yet. "I came here to let you know that I'm not angry at either of you for doing what you did, and that I forgave you already. But I will never forget either, so I don't want you to ever come looking for me. I don't care how much guilt eats at you, because you deserve all the guilt you heap upon yourselves.

"I know the two of you feel sorry for the things you did, but you lost Tommy and me a long time ago. Those children both died in the city, and what we are now doesn't belong to you. If he won't change for the better, I'll have to kill Tommy again, but it was you that made him into that bitter, resentful monster. You made him like that, Mother, because you ignored his pleas to keep our father in line. And father, you made him hate adults in general, because you just wouldn't stop abusing me. You made that monster, both of you, so don't you ever forget that. That's what you should feel sorry for.

"Me? I got a second, and now a third chance to do things right. For that, I want to thank you, because you gave me the first life that began this journey." I got up from the chair. "So, this is good-bye for the last time."

Neither of them got up to see me to the door, so I walked outside alone and left them sulking on the couch. Chet stood on the porch, his expression terribly distraught.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Two Chets," he said.

I nodded. "Yes, and two Terrys. That's the beauty of it. The world just needed more of us to go around."

"I don't understand."

"I'll explain on the way, so fly slowly. We're going to make several stops in the city today." I walked over to Chet, smiling wickedly as I held out my arms to be picked up. "It's time to play."

Chet picked me up, and as we flew to the city, I outlined my plan step by malicious step. By the time I was done, Chet was shaking his head in disbelief.

"Ow. I mean, I like it, but did you have to include me?"

"Oh yes. I think adding you will pack the right element of fear into it." I said. "Now you can pick up the pace too."

Our next stop was Wally's computer shop, where I burst through the door with barely contained enthusiasm.

"Hey Wally!" I called happily as he walked out to the front of the store.

"Terry?" he asked, staring at me with incredulous disbelief. "You look a lot younger than I remember you."

I laughed. "Yes, that's why I'm here. You and Morgan are going to fix this for me."

Wally nodded. "I know, but you're a week early. I thought your classes didn't end until Thursday."

"I decided to come early after Chet offered to fly me down to get the blood work out of the way. Then I'll go back for the rest of my classes, and you guys get a jump start on getting a diagnosis together."

"That makes sense," Wally agreed, waving to the front door as he pulled a set of keys out. "Then let's get you over to Morgan's lab."

As we rode down the elevator, Wally chuckled. "You may be shocked by our guards, but—"

"I very much doubt that," I cut him off, my face becoming grim. "They're called chomps, and Morgan told you that they're made of combined DNA variants."

Wally nodded, looking at me with some apprehension. "How did you know that?"

"I know a lot more than that, and I'll explain everything later."

The elevator doors opened, and I scowled at chomps. "Hi, kids. Momma's home."

The chomps surged forward, extending thousands of tentacles to ensnare me. I froze the air around my body, and the chomps drew back, hissing in pain.

"I'll have no games from either of you," I said, stepping out of the elevator and forcing the chomps to back up. "It's time you showed Wally your true forms."

Both transformed into their human bodies. "Vera? Dustin!" Wally shouted.

This confirmed what I already knew, that both Dustin and Vera had worked themselves into Wally's life without him knowing their true identities. Which was why neither Dustin bear nor Vera were willing to put in public appearances whenever I was hanging out with Wally.

Still staring at Dustin, Wally asked, "What the hell is going on?"

"Wally, just shut up and pay attention," I said. He glared at me, but I shook my head. "I will explain everything soon enough, but the fastest explanation I can give is, Morgan lied to you."

This silenced him, but he continued to watch me with a confused scowl. I turned my scowl back on Dustin. "Get Morgan over here, but don't tell him anything. It's too late for a warning anyway." I watched him scurry away before I glowered at Vera, noting her diminished size. "As for you, get your other half back here before I lose my temper."

She nodded, casting her eyes down. I glanced toward Wally to check up on him, but Chet nodded in a signal to look back around.

Morgan gave me a curious look as he walked up to us. "Duggan didn't mention anything about this. When did you start getting younger?"

I smiled at the hunchback maliciously, crossing my arms. "Your plot has failed completely, Morgan. I win."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, sounding truly baffled.

"That's what I want to—" Wally said.

"I will destroy the gun platform before you kidnap my dad and trick him into completing it for you, and I will kill Tommy again. More importantly, if you think of continuing this insane quest, I'll kill you just as quickly."

"How—how did you know?" Morgan asked, his deep voice softened by shock.

"We blew up the platform and traveled through time and space," I said. "I come from the future, so I know your whole plan, and I know why it will fail."

Morgan recovered himself and began to glare. "Even if you kill me, my chomps will continue my work."

I shook my head. "No they won't, and that was the biggest flaw in your plot. See, they've been lying to you when they said this plan will work. They can't help that, because you genetically engineered my kids as a pair of ass-kissers. They can't defy you, even when you're wrong. They have no choice but to agree with your claims. There's only one exception they'd make. You programmed them with a sense of self-preservation, which overrides their loyalty to you. They're reading my mind, and they know I can kill them if they obey you. They also know that your plan will never succeed."

"You can't stop me," Morgan said.

"I can, and I have. You might notice your pets aren't jumping to attack me. That's because they agree with me. Being that they share genetic code with me, the same loyalty they give to you also applies to me. Since this situation creates a conflict of interests for them on a genetic level, their sense of self-preservation is the tie-breaker. Which is bad news for you."

I stepped closer to Morgan, who took a step back just as fast. "Loyal or not, the chomps won't try to stop me from killing you. They'll even help me do it if I ask." Morgan shook his head, but his sputtering objection died on his lips when I beamed a cruel smile. "So the only thing preventing your death is you. I will give you this one chance to live, so you need to think hard. If you're really tired of the game, retire from crime and become a librarian somewhere. Quit this plot before I have to take you out."

Morgan shook his head. "I won't ever quit, and I don't think you have it in you to kill me."

"That's because you don't know what you put me through." I nodded to Dustin. "Hit him with it."

"He can't—" Morgan began to object before he dropped to the floor and screamed.

When his pained cries faded, I knelt beside him. He shuddered, and then flinched away from me when he opened his eyes. I leaned closer, grabbing the fur on the side of his face to keep him from pulling away.

"That," I whispered, "is what it feels like to be raped after every atom in your body has been reshuffled. I intend to treat you to many other painful memories, and that was not the worst pain you've made me suffer. I will offer you evidence of your crimes against me. But not to give you another chance. We just passed your last chance, so I'm doing this because one death isn't good enough for a bastard like you."

"Go to hell," Morgan whimpered.

"I've already been there." I nodded to Dustin, eliciting another scream from the hairy heap on the floor. "That was you compressing my body to teach me a lesson."

Standing up, I pouted at Wally, and my expression softened. "I know Morgan acted like a father to you, but he purposely stunted my growth. This wasn't a glitch in my nanites. He crippled me."

Wally glanced at Vera, who nodded and bowed her head to avoid his wounded gaze. He looked at me, his frown spreading. "Why?"

"He made sure I had to return to City for his help. In another time, he had me tortured, raped, and killed." Wally reacted like I was slapping him with every word, and his hands tensed into fists. I moved closer to him and put my hand on his arm. "He injected me with nanites and intentionally botched the experiment. He's hurt me again and again, but none of this is why he has to die. I have to kill him because he's constructing a gun platform in space, a gun that can kill whole cities. He wanted my loyalty because I'm the cooling element that will allow him to kill millions."

Wally had to check with Vera again, and again she nodded. Wally's gaze shifted to Morgan, and his teeth were clenched as he said, "You made me trust you."

"Yes, because you were meant to be his spy, reporting all of my activities faithfully. He bought your loyalty with the kindness your parents never gave you." I patted his arm. "I know this is hard for you to understand, so Vera is going to send you some memories." Wally stiffened, covering his mouth to stifle his agonized groan. He felt no physical pain, and his outburst came from a wound in his heart.

"I didn't know he could be so vile," Wally said in a quiet tone of voice.

"I know, and I wish I didn't have to show you any of what I suffered. I wish I didn't have to take you to the platform with me, but I want you to see Tommy. We're all clones, and that makes us family of a sort. So if I have to kill our brother, I want you to see him at least one time."

Wally asked, "Are you going to kill Morgan now?"

"No, first I want him to suffer more. So Dustin, I want you to send him everything in sequential order."

Dustin shuddered, but complied with my order. Morgan screamed for nearly an hour after the chomp stopped sending him memories, and I waited until his senses returned before I moved to kneel beside him again. He was panting raggedly, a low moan rattling from his lips.

"Now you know exactly what you've done to me," I said. "Are you sorry for what you've done?"

"No," he whispered, defiant to the end.

I stood up. "Then I don't feel sorry for this," I said, and then I froze his lungs.

Painful? Oh you bet. Mainly because I kept kicking his ribs as hard as I could.

"Uh, Terry?" Chet closed his hand over my shoulder, keeping his voice low. "I think he's dead now."

"What's your point?" I asked, shrugging off his hand before I continued to vent my anger on the hunchback's corpse.

Once I sank to the floor, squatting to catch my breath and relieve my aching legs, I noticed how little damage I'd don to the body. I was still hurting from my trip across the dimensions, and I wasn't up to full strength yet. Waving a dismissive hand, I looked up at Dustin.

"You and Vera will give me the proper treatments each year, right?" I asked, watching him nod. "And you'll treat the other me as well?" I clarified. Again he nodded.

I looked toward the elevator as Vera's doppelganger entered the lab, merging with her other half. She gain another inch in height, and her limber filled out, making her look healthier.

When she'd completed the brief transformation, I said, "Give me something to breathe in space, and then take us to Tommy."

Vera left, never making eye contact with me. Fear is a more powerful weapon than any gun, and both the chomps were terrified of me. It was a very short wait before Vera returned with a collar.

"Pushing this button will turn on the force field without activating the neural link," she explained in a low voice before stepping quickly back.

"Vera, stop that. I'm not going to kill either of you. You were made slaves by design, and I have no intention of punishing you just for being born."

Vera looked at me, her grey eyes displaying her confusion. "But, your thoughts—"

"Are diversions, and a lesson for you. You can be lied to, so don't rely on your telepathy to be accurate." Both chomps seemed deeply relieved and troubled at the same time. Before either could comment, I pressed on with my plans. "Dustin, dispose of Morgan's body properly, and wait here for us. Vera, let's go."

Within minutes we were standing in the airlock of the platform. I took Wally's hand, squeezing it. "This gun platform was Morgan's trump card, his bid to end the game forever. He was going to kill every living creature in City. Worse than that, he wasn't planning on stopping with City. Morgan was going to keep irradiating cities all over the world." I watched tears roll down his cheeks, and my chest hurt to see him suffer. "I wish there was some other way that I could have stopped him, but I tried everything. He just wouldn't give up."

Wally nodded, wiping his eyes. "He was my father, but I would have done the same thing if I'd known about this."

Vera led us to a room, opening the door and looking at me with pleading eyes. I looked from her to the darkened room, feeling the heat pouring out from inside. Walking in, I turned and found my brother hovering over a worktable smelting small blocks of metal in his hands and pouring them into molds.

I walked up to him slowly, not quite sure what to do anymore. "Tommy," I called, and he spun, the white hot metal in his hands splashing my clothes and setting them ablaze. I put them out, sighing at the scorched clothing.

Tommy was ecstatic, laughing while he wiped his hands on a pad of steel wool. "So Morgan finally revived you?" he said, and then laughed. "He promised me he would if I built this station for him."

"Morgan revived me a long time ago," I said in a low voice. "He's been lying to you from day one about everything."

Tommy's smile faded, and white fire blazed from his eyes. "I'll kill him."

"No, you won't, because I already have. I've come here to offer you the same chance that I gave him."

"I don't understand," Tommy said.

I nodded to Vera. "Show him everything, but don't let him feel any of it."

Only two seconds passed, and then Tommy sank to his knees. "How could you do it?" He asked, raising his head to watch me with an expression of raw anguish. "I'm you're brother. I thought you loved me."

"I do, and I never wanted to kill you. You left me no choice. I don't want to kill you now either, but I know that you're capable of killing thousands of innocent people without even trying. You're dangerous, Tommy. I can't let you go free if I believe you aren't ready to accept responsibility for what you are. So your life is in your hands, just as it was in Morgan's. You can live in peace with the billions we made, or you can join that bastard in hell."

Tommy shook his head. "No, you wouldn't just—"

"Kill you in cold blood? Yes I will. Do you need to see how I killed you again? I want to believe that you can be a good person. I want to think that somewhere inside you is the scared little boy that talked me into running away from home because you wanted to protect me from our father. Please, Tommy, I want my big brother back."

Tommy nodded, opening his arms. When I sank down to hug him, he filled my lungs with fire. I sighed, exhaling a white plume of flame.

"Tommy, you moron. I can breathe fire." I filled his nose and mouth with ice, and then shoved him back, crawling over him as he tried to dig at his face and dislodge the block of ice. "Always remember this. You have the most destructive power known to mankind, but I am the one thing you cannot destroy. Ice can always consume a fire." I glanced over at Chet. "I think Tommy has something to say, but he need some help."

"Gee, I don't know," Chet said, faking uncertainty poorly. "My way might be a little painful."

"Then let's ask him." I offered my brother a cold smile. "Would you like Chet to remove that ice for you?" Tommy nodded, his eyes bulging as he suffocated. "There you have it, Chet, Tommy's permission to help him breathe again."

I rolled off my brother's chest, and Chet leaned over to grab the front of Tommy's costume with his left hand. He yanked Tommy up as he threw a hard right at his jaw, shattering it along with the ice.

"Oh dear." Chet spoke with fake concern, and the sentiment was made even more false when his mouth stretched in a wicked smirk. "I might have hit him too hard. I can't make out a word that he's saying. Wait, I think he just said 'kill me now.'" Chet drew back his right fist and pulled Tommy up from the floor with his left. "Is that it?"

Tommy shook his head, babbling like a madman.

"Give him some paper and a pen," I said.

Vera handed them to Tommy, forming them from her own body. "Tommy, think long and hard about what I'm asking you. Do you want to live or die?" I said, watching him scrawl the letters sloppily.

Live, he wrote.

I asked, "Then is five billion dollars enough to retire on?"

Yes, he scrawled.

I nodded. "Tommy, this station is your home now, and the chomps shall remain with you to keep you company. You are free to roam the planet as you please, but if you so much as harm a single person and I find out about it, I will kill you without another thought. Are we clear?"

Tommy nodded, and so did I to Chet, who set Tommy down gently.

"Sorry about your jaw," Chet said.

"I'll be coming back here in six days," I said. "After that, you'll have to come find me if you want to visit." I offered my brother a smile. "You've made the right choice, Tommy. Welcome back to the land of the living." Standing up, I patted Vera's shoulder. "Stay here and keep an eye on him while that jaw heals. I'll see both of you next week, all right?"

Vera smiled at me. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Hey, that's what family is for." I said, and then laughed. "Of course, in this family, there's some serious kink going down here. You're technically my daughter, but you're playing around with my brother." I heard Wally huff and looked around. Then I noticed his pout and snorted. "Oh, hell, Vera, you're playing with both of them?"

She sputtered, and I laughed off her attempts at an explanation. "Never mind, you can sort it out later."

I waved for Wally and Chet to follow me. "Come on guys, it's time to clean up before we start phase two of my plot."

"What's in phase two?" Wally asked with concern as he and Chet followed me down the hall.

"The vacation," Chet answered, and then laughed.

After clearing things up with Dustin, I spent the next six days goofing off. I had nowhere in particular to be, and no one left to kill, so I spent my time shopping and hanging out at fancy restraints with Chet and Wally. I dressed lavishly for simple things, like watching TV or taking a walk. I was living it up in the city for the last time.

The big day arrived, and I was standing on the corner at exactly the right time to watch as Greg pulled up to the curb in Wallace's BMW. I smiled as I watched the other me get out. I was about to wipe that melancholy expression right off my face for good. I waited until Greg had pulled back onto the street, and then I walked up to my other self, tapping her on her back.

"Hello, Terry," I said, grinning as she spun around.

She gasped at the sight of me, covering her mouth. "How?"

"Morgan made me to find out what went wrong in your cloning process. The good news is that he has an answer, and you can be aged to the point where you won't be an emotional wreck anymore. I'm supposed to escort you to his lab, where you will receive your first treatment."

Terry smiled, but it faded a moment later. "Then what's the bad news?"

"I'm afraid it's two fold. The first half is that Morgan won't be around. He decided that he's had enough of the game, and he retired somewhere. He didn't tell any of us where he was going, but he left his two assistants, Vera and Dustin, to administer your treatments. And that's the other half of the bad news. Your body is made up of compounds that don't age, so you'll need one treatment per year. The treatment are extremely painful, and you'll need one every year until the day you die."

Terry nodded. "Until the day I die, huh?" she mused, her smile returning. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Taking her hand, I said, "Not a damn thing."

The lab was already set up when we arrived, with two padded tables sitting in the middle of the room right as soon as we got off the elevator. I tugged off my clothes and climbed onto one table, watching as the other me did the same. I looked up at Dustin as he walked to the head of my table.

"What age should I start you at?" he asked.

"Seventeen," I said.

The other Terry nodded. "That's what I want too."

Vera leaned over her table, and her body sprouted a thousand tendrils. "I'm very sorry for this," she said before the tentacles extending from her chest perforated the other Terry and caused her to scream hysterically.

"Hit me," I said, and a second later the familiar pain blurred my thoughts into white noise.

When I came to, I looked to my left to find Terry sobbing and laughing at the same time, almost dancing in front of the mirror. She turned to admire her backside and saw me getting up from the table to join her.

Taking my hand, she gestured to the mirror at our dual reflections. "Isn't it wonderful?" She asked, tears streaming down her face. "I'd hug you if it didn't hurt so bad."

I smiled, patting her hand gently. "The pain will only last a day. Now, I want you to do me a favor."

"For this, I'd give you anything," she said.

"Go home," I said, smiling at her puzzled look. "You just run on home and show David that you've been cured. Then, you make love to him for me, okay? Just keep doing that until you have a baby. I want you to name that baby Katherine, and I want you to tell Dustin and Vera when she's born."

"What if we have a boy?" Terry asked.

I shook my head, surprised to find that I was crying. "The first one will be a girl, trust me on that. You tell these guys when she's born, and I'll come running up to Idaho just as fast as I can. We'll call me her auntie Terry, and I'm going to spoil that kid rotten."

Terry hugged me, I guess deciding it was worth the pain. "I never thought I'd have a normal life."

"You will, sweetie. Enjoy every moment of it, okay?" I stepped back, gesturing to Dustin as he walked up with a set of clothes. "Now you need to get dressed, and Dustin will drive you to the airport. I'll have Vera phone Dad—"

"How did you know about that?" Terry asked, suddenly wary. "I only started calling him Dad three days ago."

"I'm not the same girl as you, and it didn't take me nearly as long to see who he was. That's because I was born knowing I'd been made to cure you. Now get dressed. I've got this all set up so you can be home before dinner."

I watched Terry get dressed and dash to the elevator. Once the doors closed, I turned around to look back at the mirror. Chet, and Wally disengaged their cloaks on the left side of the mirror, and Tommy disengaged his, revealing his position on the right.

Tommy stared at me with a pout that combined sadness and confusion. "You didn't tell her the truth."

"That's because for her, none of it ever happened. When you go to visit her, you make sure to keep that in mind. You have two sisters now, and only one of us had a rough second life."

"Do you think I should see her?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes, I do. Wait a while, and then go up to Idaho. I know she'll have million questions, but you can avert all of them by telling her Morgan did it out of love. Don't you ever screw her normal life up Tommy, you hear me?"

My brother nodded, walking over to hug me gently. "I'm going home. If I ever want to visit you—"

"Ask the chomps," I said. "They'll know how to find me." I kissed his cheek, and then his forehead before I let him go. He and Vera got onto the elevator, and I turned my attention to Wally. "I assume you intend to keep playing the game."

"Yes," he replied without hesitation.

"Then let me give you a good piece of advice. Every once in while, forget you're a hero, and kill one of those villains. You won't have to kill many to keep the population down, but if you don't, they'll walk all over you." I walked to the elevator and pressed the button to call the car. "And with that sage advice out of the way, I am officially retired as a vigilante."

"Where are you going now?" Chet asked.

"I'm going home," I said.

A free ebook to kick off the new year…

Bella Wong is a young lesbian moving to the Bronx, where she hopes to meet hot older women. She's in luck, because her neighbor Edwina Sullen is the prettiest and coolest older woman Bella's ever seen. No, she's really cool, like room temperature. And she's really old, like 218.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/35481

My Gay Sparkly Vampire romance is my 2010 NoNoWriMo entry, and at 56k it should be a short read. I hope you'll check out my parody, and if you do, please considered leaving a review or a rating at Smashwords, where the book is hosted. Thanks in advance for the brave reviewers who accept the challenge, and happy new year to everyone!

The math of serial fiction, and the quest for new patrons

Hopefully by now you've had time to adjust to the shock of me moving to a pay system, because today I'm going to present you with some math, and make my case for why I NEED your help with a new reader drive.

First, I want to explain to new readers why I work at home, and give a pleasant reminder to regular readers of why I need their support. If you don't already know, I have MS, or multiple sclerosis. MS is not cheap to treat. I need money for this, and for the same sorts of things that you like to enjoy, like music, book video games, junk food, and adult beverages. Writing is supposed to be my job, and currently, my pay sucks. I'm forced to take the matter up with my bosses, and guess what? That's you! Also, I haven't been getting enough performance reviews on recent work either. Those reviews are what convince new reader to take a risk on my stuff, so they are still just as important to my success in 2011 as they were in 2010.

Okay, so I can put away the violin and take out the calculator. My web stats have shown around 180 regular readers per chapter for my free serials. There are some other readers flirting by reading short stories. I expect moving to a pay structure means many of you will be leaving. So, for a conservative guess, let's say I have 100 regular readers willing to stick around for the new stuff, if the price is right. (And by the way, I'd love to be proved wrong and discover that I have almost 200 regular readers. I'm just not convinced the audience is all down for paid subscriptions.)

Let's say that I have an average chapter size of 4,000 words. If I want to earn a pro rate for my writing, I'd want minimum sales per chapter to be $50 per 1000 words, or $200 per 4K chapter. But, if I only have 100 readers, that makes the cost of individual chapters way too high. I'd like to charge between 0.25 and 0.50 cents. But 100 (or 200) regular readers isn't enough to fund projects or support myself. To make the next serial financially viable, I need to charge 0.50 to a minimum of 400 readers. (So the bonus level would be 800.) I'm willing to drop to a semi-pro rate, in theory, but that would still make my minimum reader level 250-300. You might say "Geez Zoe, those minimum limits are unreasonable!" Well, if I set the minimum buyer limit at 50 readers, I have to charge $2 for the same chapters. That's ways too expensive in my opinion. (You can chime in with yay or nay in the comments on this point.)

 

Buying the individual chapters means readers pay more than they would for the final book. This model is similar to comic books, where you pay more for individual issues than you do for the trade paperback collections that come out at the end of a story arc. So there is a precedent for the model. I'm hoping readers can appreciate the value of serial fiction as an episodic product. It's not too much to bog you down. It leaves you free to read chapters from your other favorite authors, and it's not so expensive that you can't buy other stuff from other authors.

 

No matter what price or buyer limit I set for chapters, there are currently not enough readers without making the price too high. This is why I must appeal to you to help me with a new reader drive. I need folks who have read my free stories to post reviews, good, bad, or indifferent. Maybe you don't have a blog, but you're on Facebook. If so, you can leave a review as a note, or you can share the first page of a free story with your friends and add a mini review in your status to explain why you think they should read it. Or you can direct your friends to my fan page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Zoe-E-Whitten/179554912059420

 

If you're on Tumblr, Digg, Stumble, Goodreads, or any other social network, you could post a link to my story archive, to the first page of a free story, or to my blog, or you can write a review of my site or blog in general instead of focusing on any one story. Every little bit of promotion helps, and to keep myself afloat next year, I will need a lot more help. Or else in 2012, there might not be a site or a blog left to support. (;_;)

2011, the end of free fiction…

So, we're looking at the end of 2010, and it's time for me to announce some major changes to my upcoming serial fiction. This will affect both my blog and my web site. The order of stories in the queue should remain close to the same as I've outlined in previous posts, but starting in 2011 I will be dropping the free serials. So the first paid serial will be Confessions of a Zombie Lover, the sequel to this year's first dark fantasy entry, Zombie Punter.

There will still be links to new chapters of my serial fiction coming, but instead of posting the text here, I'll post a link to the chapter on Smashwords. A free preview of the first few lines will be available for every chapter, but readers will have to buy the rest. I decided on Smashwords because you can get a file for every ereader DRM-free. So no matter how you prefer to get your fiction fix on, they will cover you. Also, you buy once, and you have access to all the file formats. Even if you switch machines or readers, you will always have access to all the files. They're a good indie store, and I'm hopeful to send more of my Kindle and Nook readers their way instead of to Amazon or B&N.

A major change in my policy will be requiring a minimum number of buyers to be met per chapter before I release the next chapter. (If a chapter unlocked on the same day it's released, I suppose I might wait a day or two before posting the next part.) I didn't want to give up my regular schedule or hold my work for a ransom, but I'm doing this for two reasons. First, I need to make enough money from my writing in 2011 to earn something closer to a part-time tech job. So that means turning more casual readers into regular customers. Second, this encourages regular readers to spread the word on stories and become vocal fans. If I've set a 50 sale minimum, and the sales hang at 45, it's in the reader's best interest to talk about the book and interest other readers. These stories were completed long before I posted them, so if a book dies after one or two chapters, it's because the readers decided not to support the project, not because I ran out of stuff to post. (And if that happens, I suppose I'll stop asking after two months and try another title, if no titles are completed in 2011, I'll just quit writing serial fiction. I may also look more seriously at alcoholism as a hobby instead of writing)

[image error]I don't have a per chapter price set yet, and I would like to offer readers the chance to chime in on the amount they think is fair. The same is true of the minimum sales level. I think fifty sales might be a fair starting point based on my current traffic, but I'm open to opinions on this. Whatever the minimum level is, I will also set up a bonus level. At triple the minimum level of sales, I will release bonus stories to the blog and web site. These won't be novellas, but more like short stories and novelettes. Bonus material is a surprise kind of thing, meaning you never know what it will be. But if I consistently hit triple sales bonuses, I might consider doing some custom writing too.

Oh, and typos. The first reader to spot a typo in posted chapters and bring it to my attention will get the next chapter free of charge in the format of their choice. This will reward readers for speaking up when they find mistakes, and it will improve the individual chapters before I compile the final edition of the book. (Final books will probably be $2.99, and will include cover art.) The thing about final books is, you don't have to buy them when they come out. You won't be getting anything different from the chapters you already own. Buying the e-book is simply thanking the artist for making an awesome cover. Or tipping me for a job well done.

BUT, if I can sell enough bonus level chapters throughout the course of a series, I will be able to hire an artist not just for the cover, but also for interior art to compliment certain scenes, or to introduce characters with portraits. Interior art would make the final book something special even for people who read all the chapters as they came out, a kind of collectors' edition. It would help me support indie artists, who could really use moneys too. And if you folks can help me rack up more sales with referrals , I might even begin to invest in POD print editions again. (For around 8.98-12.95, depending on length.) If print really isn't dead, then how about helping me get back into that market, please?

Moving to paid serials means I will not be labeling my new work as WebLit, being that it no longer fits their definitions. I also won't be registering my stories on the free fiction directories for the same reason. I don't want to mislead people. All of my old WebLit fiction will still be free, so new readers coming from the communities and directories will always have something free from me to start off with. (And links won't be broken or misleading cause I started charging for the stories.)

I have nothing but positive things to say about the authors working in WebLit and with the communities supporting the authors. But as a model of earning income, I haven't found WebLit to be very good for me, and now I'd like to explore another business model for the next year. I'm sure I'll lose some of my readers for my stuff no longer being free, and I'll be sorry to see them ignore my new stuff. But even if I consider my writing to be a form of experimental art, I would still like to earn more from my craft next year. If you disagree and think I'm being greedy, I'm afraid my goals as a writer and your goals as a reader have now become irreconcilable. But you don't have to go away mad. You don't have to go away at all. You just can't have anymore free novels or novellas.

If you're sticking around to buy the new serials, thank you, and I hope you will find the new stories worth both your time and your money. Please, use the comments to offer ideas on the price per chapter, and the minimum sales level, and as always, thanks for reading.

A Frosty Girl's Cure – Chapter 37

Five minutes later I stood at the edge of the coolant reservoir. I undressed, deciding I might want my clothes after I got done bypassing the security system. Of course, they were covered in bullet holes, but that wasn't going to bother me.

Yes, I know what you sticklers for detail are thinking. "Hey, where's the blood?" Back inside me. Or did you forget that my blood cells are all marked "return to sender"?

I slipped into the coolant, taking several deep breaths before I took in as much air as I could hold and kicked under the surface. The liquid was thankfully clear, allowing me to find the first tube I was supposed to enter. It was burning my eyes, but I resisted the urge to shut them, or I'd get lost on the other side.

I fumbled around in the darkened tube until I found the release valve that drew the coolant from the reservoir into the various tubes surrounding the particle generator. The main chamber had its own reservoir, which is why Chet and David needed to work from their respective stations to destroy the entire facility.

I found the outlet was just big enough for me to enter, just as David said it would be. No grown man could have made it through the tube, and as I pulled myself through, I realized I wouldn't have been able to do it if I had been in either of my older bodies. Thanks to Morgan, I was just the right size to save the day.

My lungs began burning as I searched for the service access panel. It would lead me into a tube which was normally kept dry to allow the maintenance crews to work on the coolant system, but the security system override had flooded it with coolant to prevent access by enemy forces to the room I swam toward.

At last, my hand thumped against the valve lock handle, but once I gripped it, I knew I was suffering from oxygen deprivation. My fingers felt numb, and my grip strength was failing. I needed to work quicker. If I ended up drowning in the coolant, no one would be able to retrieve my body, not even my Chet.

The valve lock lurched at last, and then spun. I pushed the door back, pulling myself into the next tube. I saw a light about ten yards away from me, cast by the square grate access panel that David had said would lead me to the room I needed to be in. The grey light drifting through the clear liquid seemed wrong somehow, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was.

I pushed aside the thought, as the desire to breath was of a more urgent nature by that point. I forcefully punched the steel grate off and hauled myself out of the coolant, taking in air in heaving gasps. I had to force myself to slow down. I was on the verge of hyperventilating, and my deeper breathes weren't helping either way. The air was thinner than I'd imagined, even after David's warning, and I couldn't get enough oxygen to recover my senses. My limbs were still heavy and numb, and my head spun with vertigo.

I got to my feet with ginger slowness and looked around, finding the door marked SECURITY ONLY. I tilted my head and looked for another door, and then returned my attention to the bold black letters. David had said that they would be red. So either I'd ended up in the wrong room, or the soldiers had repainted the sign since the last time that David had been down for a visit.

I went to the door and opened it. The room inside was filled with light grey access panels, all of them filled with circuit boards for various sensors, calibration components, and control mechanisms. I knew which one I needed to open, and I went right to it.

But when I opened the panel, a groan escaped me as it dawned on me what was wrong. Oxygen deprivation had greyed my vision, and the thin air made recovering difficult. In other words, the locks on the circuit boards were all black. The blue locks might as well have been black anyway, because I couldn't tell.

"God, can't you cut me some slack here?" I cried, leaning my head back to glare at the ceiling. "I mean it's not like we need to do this to get home. I'm supposed to be doing a good deed to help these people, and now you pull this crap on me?"

I sighed and rubbed my eyes, which had the effect of making the locks blurry for several seconds before slowly coming back into focus. Still all black, and almost seeming to mock me with their uniformity. Ha-ha, they mocked, bet you can't save the day now, you color blind bitch.

"Fine. I'll just do this old school." I put my finger on the first board. "Eenie, meenie, miney, moe. Catch a tiger by its toe. If it hollers, make him pay fifty dollars every day. My mother told me to pick the very best—oh screw it, my mother was a fricking twit anyway!"

I grabbed a board at random, yanking it out. And then I screamed.

Five bundles of black wires were connected to the back of the card, all of them with the same pin connections. No alarms, so I thought that at least I'd grabbed the right board. There wasn't time to pat myself on the back, as I had less than twenty seconds—after screaming, of course—to find a damn red wire when I had no clue which one was red.

I recalled David saying that the power lead wires were thick, and there were only two leads with thick wires out of the five options.

Taking a long breath that did nothing to calm me, I said, "Okay, think, Terry. Power wires are always on the right, since red and right both begin with R." Then I muttered, "Bullishit," shaking my head at how stupid that sounded.

Honestly, put yourself in my place for a moment. You have twelve, make that eleven seconds to make a judgment call, finding a red wire when you're color blind. This wire must be chosen immediately, or you will never go home. So, how would you decide? Yep, I'll bet your method would sound just as stupid as mine.

So I yanked the wire and reseated it on the only pin socket available on the top of the board. I slipped the circuit board quickly back in place. I waited a few seconds to see if an alarm would sound until it occurred to me that the military wouldn't have sounded the alarm right by the intruders hijacking the system. For all I knew, the system was already in its self-destruct sequence because I'd grabbed the wrong circuit board.

Shaking my head at the thought that I might be swimming into a really big explosion, I shut the panel and left the room.

The swim back was sheer agony. I had to close the lock to the service tube, then swim all the way back with significantly less oxygen than I'd had on the trip to the security room. But somehow I made it back to the reservoir, and I found my Chet waiting for me at the edge of the reservoir.

He spun when he saw me, turning his back to me as I got out of the coolant. Despite my heavy breathing, I smiled at the thought that he hadn't been ashamed until I brought up the fact that he was looking at a kid's body. Had I never said anything, he wouldn't have cared, or even noticed. To Chet, I was always me, and the shell didn't matter.

"Did I screw anything up?" I asked.

Chet shook his head. "David got the sensor arrays running, so we just need to head to the main chamber, and we'll be on our way."

"Yes, thank you God," I said, reaching for my clothes…which of course shattered the moment I touched them. I pick up some of the broken shards of my t-shirt, sighing before I threw them to the ground.

"Screw you, God, I'm going home," I muttered. "Chet, I'll be naked on the trip home, so I guess it's okay for you to not cover your eyes. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you saw me nekkid."

Chet turned to look at the remains of my clothing. "Have you considered getting a costume that can't be destroyed?" He asked, gesturing to the stealth suit that my dad had given him.

"No, because when I get home, I'm not going to be playing the game anymore." I started walking back to the control room to say goodbye to Terry. "To be honest, I was going to try talking you into retiring too."

"Why? Without me, the city would collapse into chaos," Chet said. "That was the whole point of Duggan getting me back into the game."

"So let it fall. There will be another hero to replace you in time to save the city from itself. More than that, you deserve your retirement. Just take Vicky to some quiet podunk town and make babies until you're too old to hump anymore."

"That's a charming thought," Chet said.

I smiled at him. "What I'm getting at is, the only family you'll have is the one you make for yourself. You won't get that from playing the game, and you know it. When I get home, I'm going back to Idaho. I'm going to beat the snot out of Beth, and then I'm going to do whatever I have to get my man back. After that, he and I will make our own family in my cabin by our pond. Doesn't that sound lovely?" I asked, watching Chet nod. "No matter what we do, there will always be villains in City, so you have to ask yourself what you really want from life. Do you want to play the game, or do you want to raise a family with Vicky?"

Chet didn't answer me, but I could see he was giving it a lot of thought. I let it go, deciding I could always try again later, when I had Vicky's help.

I opened the door to the control room to find the other Chet working alone. "Where's Terry?" I asked, feeling annoyed.

"She's waiting for you in the main chamber," he answered, turning around. His eyes bulged, and he spun back to the monitor he'd been studying. "So, ah, good luck!"

I snorted, looking up at Chet as we continued down the corridor. "I'll be glad when I get my older body back. Then when I'm naked, guys will want to look at me again."

We walked to the end of the corridor, and Terry began to approach me as if she were going to hug me. I began to backpedal quickly, and her face crinkled in a wounded pout.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I just had to swim through coolant," I said as gently as I could. "I'm cold enough to kill you with the slightest touch."

Only then did she notice the tiny vapor trails of air condensing into white wispy tendrils around me. Her eyes went wide before her expression became concerned. "Will you be all right?"

"Oh sure, but it could take days for me to thaw out from this."

"Nope, seconds," my Chet corrected me. "We're going to be bombarded by accelerated particles, which would be kind of like getting microwaved. You'll be thawed out and then superheated before we leave."

"It's a shame we couldn't nuke me before we leave, so then I could say goodbye properly," I remarked. Shrugging, I smiled at Terry. "Tell Katherine that when I get home, I'm going to find her daddy and work on bringing her home."

Terry giggled as she nodded, wiping her eyes. "And you tell David that I'll find a way to get over there and kick his ass if he ever looks at Beth again."

She looked to the other Chet as he walked up to us. He gave her a questioning glance, silently asking if she needed more time. Terry shook her head, stepping away and walking back down the corridor.

Chet looked at me and blushed, turning to nod towards the main chamber. "The sensors are recording everything, so we're ready whenever you are."

I nodded. "Just make sure you get David and Terry out of here before you bring the house down."

"There's no need to worry about that," the other Chet assured me. "The explosions won't destroy the entire facility. The last one didn't even kill anyone, and these will be only a little bigger."

"Uh, Chet, that's an oxymoron," I observed.

He grinned, shaking his head. "Just get into the stupid chamber so we can get started."

The other Chet sealed the main chamber, and the lights went out around us. I reached out, finding my Chet, and I took his hand to squeeze it. "I'm going to pray that we get this trick right the first time, and I suggest you do the same."

Chet squeezed my hand. "I'm already praying."

We waited for several long moments, yet nothing had changed. I couldn't hear anything, and I didn't feel any different.

"Do you think they forgot someth—" I started to ask, collapsing on the floor when the air was removed from my lungs.

Death by explosive decompression. Gotta love it. I by love, I mean hate. And, by the way, I told you near the start that I knew personally about my life sucking harder than the vacuum a super collider. I'll bet you didn't think I'd get around to explaining that, did you?

But so anyway, I died when I literally puked my guts into the vacuum. And that was the second most painful experience of my unnatural life. If you're looking into universe hopping, this is really NOT the right method, even if you are immortal.

Ah well, live and learn. Or…well, you know what I mean.

A Frosty Girl's Cure – Chapter 36

When the Jeep pulled into the garage, the first thing I noticed was Terry in the passenger seat. As soon as David parked, I jogged across the parking bay. My face tightened in a scowl, and I shook my head at Terry as she got out of the passenger side. "You aren't coming with us. Katherine—"

"Is at a babysitter's house," Terry said. "They think we're going out for the evening, which gives David an alibi. I am coming with you, so you can just drop the hero act."

I clenched my jaw, but common sense couldn't shut me up. "Damn it, why couldn't you just stay home like I asked?"

"Because you're putting my husband in danger," she said, folding her arms over her chest. "If it was your family in danger, would you sit at home like a good little girl?"

Ooh, low blow, and right in the breadbasket.

I stewed for a few seconds before glancing at David, who offered me a sympathetic smile. "If it's any comfort, I also tried talking her out of coming."

"It's hardly comforting to know that Katherine could end up an orphan tonight," I said, glaring at Terry.

"No she won't, because you won't let that happen," she shot back. Now she was scowling at me, and it was clear a fight was about to break out.

The other Chet saved the day by commenting, "This validates at least one of my theories. No matter what dimension she's from, Terry is always a bitch."

"Damn straight!" both of us yelled at the same time, causing all three men to flinch.

But it did turn our ire away from each other, and the fight was averted. Obviously though, the mood was still tense as we left the bunker, with Terry and I exchanging hurt looks at each other during the entire drive.

I couldn't think of anything other than Katherine becoming an orphan until the other Chet tapped my shoulder, pointing ahead of us to a string of blinking red lights. "We're about one mile from the West entrance now," he yelled over the wind.

"Stop here," I said, and I hopped out of the Jeep once it rolled to a stop. "Chet and I will take care of the security first, and then we'll double back for you."

"That wasn't the plan," the other Chet said.

"The plan got changed again," I said and shot a dirty look at Terry. "I have no intention of letting her on that base until I'm certain there's no way to connect her to the destruction of the collider. I'll be damned if I condemn that little girl to the same fate of losing her family as I had."

"So how do you want to handle that tower?" my Chet asked as he got out of the Jeep.

"Fly me over the array at forty feet. I'll take the tower down, and then you can descend to drop me off at the guard tower. We'll split up to take out security. You work the exterior, and I'll smash through the guards inside."

"Sounds like a plan," my Chet said.

"Just make sure that you move fast enough so that the external cameras can't get an image of you. It's okay if they see me, but we want to leave them guessing at how this happened with no links back to this world's Chet."

"Right, so super speed, and super quiet." Chet picked me up, flying quickly to the facility.

When we got over the communications tower, I formed a huge ice boulder about thirty-five feet above the ground. Which didn't give it much room to fall, sure. Fortunately, the ice weighed ten tons, so it didn't need terminal velocity to crush the metal tower in a cacophony of screaming metal and snapping steel cables.

"Subtle," Chet noted sarcastically.

"If you want subtle, you don't come to me for a plan," I said, pointing to the guard tower as it began to train two spotlights on the wreckage. "Drop me off at twenty feet, and then get to work. Remember to disable the hard line first."

"Right," Chet said.

A second later he let go of me. I turned in a single aerial somersault as I dropped, landing beside a stunned security guard on the upper tower walkway who was manning the top spotlight.

Looking up, I smiled at him. "Damn, can you believe these cheap-ass econo-flights? They don't even give you a parachute these days!"

The stunned guard recovered enough to fire his rifle, but I dodged his first three-shot burst by rolling forward. I pistoned my legs hard into his groin, and he folded over with a grunt, falling onto me. I punched his windpipe as he fell, crushing it before I kicked my legs up again to send his convulsing body crashing into the steel grate stairway behind him.

Rolling onto my feet, I jumped over the rail and hit the lower walkway with a metallic crash. Then I ran into the tower bunker, finding the guard's partner walking away from the bottom spotlight to reach for a radio and call for help. I put myself in his path and spun, planting my heel in the side of his elbow. While he bellowed over his shattered arm, I continued to spin, using the momentum to snap another kick off that landed in his kidneys. The guard dropped to his knees, and bloody mist burst from his mouth in a red cloud. Still, I was taking no chances with Terry's life. I leapt at the coughing soldier, twisting his head until his neck crunched.

I took the radio from the counter, hoping to keep tabs on the security forces. The first broadcast I heard was a request from a control room guard asking for a security detail to check the tower, noting that they had lost radio and satellite communications. Just seconds later, the same man sent a panicked alert that the hard-line communications were also down, confirming that Chet was done with his first task.

I dropped off the side of the guard tower, landing on my feet and running into the tunnel the other Chet had said would lead us directly to the main chamber. I found the first camera and froze it, waiting to see how much activity I would be catching.

"Maintenance, get a replacement camera into the West corridor. Damn thing went out again!" a different voice growled over the radio.

I smiled, thankful that luck was on my side. That luck did not last long though, as freezing the second camera alerted the control room to a real threat.

A security alarm began buzzing, and the radio again crackled to life. "We need a squad in the main West corridor now! I've got two cameras down, and we've lost all forms of long range communications!" another soldier ordered, though there was clearly more panic than determination in their voice. "Check that, three cameras are down! We've got an intruder in the West Corridor! Converge on that location, and make it double time!"

I took out the fourth camera just as I came to the end of the main corridor. The intersecting hallway ran parallel to the collider itself, and Chet had told me that going to the left would get me into the main chamber.

Turning the corner, I slid to a stop and gawked like an idiot as a full squadron of troops took aim at me. I realized they hadn't fired yet because they were still surprised to discover that a little girl was their intruder. Using the element of surprise, I froze the air around them, turning the entire squadron into frosted soldiersicles.

That's when the squad behind me used that same element of surprise, opening fire. I spun from the force of the first volley, catching several more bullets in my chest, gut, and legs before someone gave the order to cease fire.

I collapsed to my knees, and the world felt fuzzy. "I think you missed a spot," I said, summoning enough strength to freeze the squadron.

I tipped over and splattered into a puddle of myself, and then I closed my eyes.

I came to just as Chet was picking me up, cradling me against his chest. "Geez, Terry, I left you alone for ten minutes, and now I find you doing a Swiss cheese impression."

"Yeah, but I took out both squadrons before I settled in for a nap," I said. "Did you take care of all of the external security?"

"Yes, and the maintenance crews as well, since they were armed," Chet said.

"That will work. Just take me through this corridor so I can freeze the remaining cameras."

Chet shook his head. "I already took them out for you."

"Then it's time to get the others," I said.

"Terry, could you just stop talking for a while? That gurgling noise is making me queasy."

I slapped his chest lightly, splattering blood on his costume. "Try dry cleaning that, asshole."

Chet chuckled and said, "Love you too, bitch."

As we landed, Terry leapt from the Jeep, her face becoming pale as she ran at us. "What happened? Is she—?"

"Don't sweat the bullet holes," I interrupted her. "I've had worse than this."

Terry staggered closer clutching her stomach, disturbed by the sight of me. "How is it possible that you can survive that?"

"I didn't, really. Chet woke me up after I'd healed enough to keep myself together, so to speak. I'll be fine, Terry, really. Get back in the Jeep so we can get this plan under way."

Chet flew alongside the Jeep cradling me in his arms, as David was adamantly opposed to staining his leather seats no matter how much Terry brow beat him. Can't say that I blamed him.

Oh, wait, yes I did, repeatedly. Both of us, even.

Once we were inside the corridor, my Chet propped me against a wall before he led David to the control room. I looked at Terry as she sat down beside me, smiling at the look of maternal concern on her face.

"It doesn't hurt?" she asked.

"I didn't say that." I coughed a short laugh, and blood spurted out of a few of my holes, making Terry green. Whoops. "It always hurts when my body is damaged like this, but I've developed a high threshold for pain. You would too after repeatedly having your body ripped molecule from molecule. Hopefully, it's a sensation you'll never have the privilege of experiencing."

I tried to stand up and did, glad that I could even if my legs wobbled like melting jello molds.

"You need to sit down," Terry said.

"Hey, I just look like a kid," I said. "You don't need to mother me."

Terry reached up and tugged me down easily, forcing me to sit down. "You may not be a kid, but you definitely need someone to look after you."

"No I don't," I snapped. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Now if you don't mind, I need to get used to walking with this many holes in my legs so I can escort Chet to the main chamber."

"I can find my own way there," the other Chet said.

"I'm sure you can, but if we somehow missed a security detail, you could end up looking like me." I gestured at my chest. "Only, you won't still be breathing."

"Good point," he conceded.

I got back to my feet, wobbling as I took a few timid steps. I nodded to the other Chet. "All right, let's go. Hey, where do you think you're going?" I asked Terry as she got up.

"I'm going with you. I certainly don't plan to wait here by myself when you just told Chet a security detail would perforate him if they found him. I'm not in any better a position, now am I?" Terry yelled.

"Man, I really am a bitch no matter where I am." Before Terry could stop flapping her mouth in search of a reply, I said, "Let me ask you something. What did Douglas and Leona do for a living?"

"They were retired when they adopted me, but they used to be corporate lawyers."

"Yep," I said, and then snorted, "it figures."

We made it to the main chamber, and Chet began running diagnostic tests on the cooling components. I collapsed into a rolling chair, turning it away from the console to watch the door.

"Your parents were super villains, right?" Terry asked, watching me nod. "So what made them decide to retire?"

"Both of them got tired of death. For all of their powers, all they could do was destroy things. When Chet left the game, their plots became too successful. My folks figured out a way to bring back Chet was by starting a riot, and then they helped him by killing as many of the rioters as they could, simple criminals and super villains alike."

Terry scowled. "They don't sound like very good people."

"They revived me, didn't they?" I asked and smiled. "In a way, I think they did it to try balancing for all the evils they'd done. Your parents were most likely acting under the same motivations when they adopted you."

"In what way?" Terry asked in an indignant tone, clearly offended.

"As corporate lawyers, they defended massive companies that profited off the hardships of the weak and poor." Terry's jaw tightened, but she said nothing. "They retired to get away from that, and they most likely adopted you to do something right in their lives. I'll grant you that my mom and dad were a lot worse than yours because of their powers, but in the end their motivations are probably identical."

"Uh, ladies? I hate to break into this fascinating spat, but we have a problem." The other Chet tapped a diagnostic screen for emphasis. "The sensor array isn't running yet, which means David has run into a problem from his end."

"Fine. I'll go see what the problem is." I got out of the chair. "Lock the door behind me.

"I'm coming with you," Terry said.

"No, you're not. You're going to stay right here with Chet until I get back. If the sensor array isn't running in a half an hour, then you two need to get out of here." I took her hand when she tried to object again. "I'll do what I can to make sure you and David go home to raise your daughter, but for now you'll only slow me down. Please Terry, don't argue with me on this."

Terry nodded, and I left, waiting to make sure she locked the door behind me. A short walk later, I found David and my Chet in the control room. David paced from terminal to terminal, cursing up a storm.

"What's the problem?" I asked.

David pointed toward a display. "The security team locked out some of the control systems before Chet could get to them, so I can't get the sensor arrays to start. That means we can get the particle generator online, but we can't record the evidence to clear Chet's name."

Ah, so I had two options. I could say screw the other Chet and just try to get back home, or I could stay long enough to help collect evidence, and then scram. A quiet inner voice suggested that if I chose the selfish path, karma would reward me with a trip to another backwoods cosmos.

I tapped my foot as I tried to think of something helpful. "Isn't there a way to override the lockdown?"

"Not without the proper access code. If I use mine, we'll be discovered," David said.

"Then what if we bypass the security systems and start the array manually?" I offered.

"That's not very likely either. The security grid is set up by the particle generator itself. In order to make it into the area, you'd have to survive in something like negative ninety degrees Celsius." I giggled, but David ignored me and kept ranting. "Because of the lockdown, there's no way into the room other than a…than a swim in liquid—why are you laughing?" He huffed when I continued to laugh in spite of his anger. "This isn't funny!"

"David, I can survive absolute zero on the Kelvin scale," I said, grinning when his scowl melted. "Ninety below on the Celsius scale is a Spring breeze for me. Just draw me a map and tell me what to do." David gave me an odd look, but shook his head and turned away to look for a pen.

Shrugging off his irritation with me, I looked at my Chet. "Could you go to the main chamber to check on Chet and Terry? Tell them what we've got planned, and then get back here."

"Right," he agreed and took off.

I went to the counter where David was sketching and asked, "Okay, what will you need from me?"

David held up a painfully oversimplified schematic. "The security bypass is a single circuit board with black locks. All the sensor grid boards have blue locks. You'll need to make sure you take out the right circuit board, or you'll set off an alarm."

"So? We shut down all forms of outside communication."

"Yes, but the alarm I'm referring to is the self destruct alarm," David said. "That means the entire facility will destroy itself to avoid use by hostile forces."

I rolled my eyes. "This just gets better all the time."

"You'll wish you hadn't said that." David offered me a half smirk. "Once you take out the bypass circuit board, you'll have twenty-three seconds to cross the main power feed to the sensor grid and reseat the circuit board for the bypass to take effect. Otherwise, the self-destruct sequence will commence anyway."

"Lovely. I suppose next you'll tall me that nothing is labeled."

"That would be a given. The military was paranoid that the Russians might invade us and try to use this facility for weapons research. So they made sure that this technology couldn't fall into enemy hands despite us assuring them that the Russians wouldn't invade us if we were the last viable target on Earth. Trust the military to make a target out of a tool."

I sighed. "Can you at least tell me what the power lead looks like?"

"Sure, it's a big cluster of red wires sticking out of a white power lead. That lead will be hooked to set of nine copper pins on the back of the circuit board. There's only plug wire like it, but there is another socket it can connect with on the same board." David moved his pen to another part of his badly drawn diagram. "That would be the power bypass for the sensor arrays here at the top of the board."

"So if it's so easy, what was that look for?" I asked.

"You asked for a map to get there," David replied in a curt tone of voice. "I can't give you a map because you'll be swimming in liquid coolant. Anything I drew a map on would shatter before you could use it."

"Why not use—?" I shook my head as I reminded myself that subatomic parchment also wasn't an option. I was really starting to miss my safe and more advance home-cosmos. "Never mind, the map was a dumb idea."

David wisely chose not to agree with me, instead saying, "Once you get past the coolant, the room you enter will have breathable air, but it will be extremely thin and cold." He shrugged at my amused snort. "And maybe it won't harm you. My point is, you'll have to do this based on your memory, not by a schematic."

"Great," I mumbled, and then waved a hand for him to go on. "Okay, just tell me how to get there so I can get this over with."

A Frosty Girl's Cure – Chapter 35

"Terry," Chet called. His voice was quiet and too close for my liking.

I groaned, afraid that I'd dreamt everything and was still lying in the desert. But my senses returned, and I felt covers over my legs and knew I was in a bed. Warm breath flowed over my neck as Katherine slept in my arms.

I opened my eyes and rolled my head to find Chet sitting on the side of the bed. He was smiling at me, but he said nothing.

I whispered, "How did you find me?"

"Dumb luck."

I smiled. "So, your usual?"

"Yeah," Chet said. "I found the trailer this morning. It's the only building for a few miles, so I figured I'd ask if you had passed by. Of course, when Terry answered the door, I knew you were here before she said a word. She smiled and waved me inside, saying that I'd been expected." Chet looked at Katherine as she stirred in her sleep. "How do you end up in bed with so many cute girls?"

"It's a talent," I said, snorting silent laughter. "Isn't she beautiful?" I looked at Chet and saw him nod. "If I make it back home, I want to have a kid just like her."

Chet took my hand. "David told me what you're planning, and I want you to know,  I'll do everything in my power to get you back home. I'm sorry for—"

"No, don't apologize. Not now. I'm so sorry for the things I said to you." I glanced at Katherine when she murmured. "Without you, I'd have never known this kind of happiness."

"I hate to ruin the moment, but Terry said Katherine needs to get ready for school. She'll take David to work so she can drive us to Chet's compound."

Nodding, I shook Katherine's shoulder. "Sweetie, wake up. You have to get ready for school."

"Aw mom, not now," the little girl mumbled. "I was havin' a good dream."

I laughed, helping her sit up. "Come on. A smart girl like you knows how important school is."

Katherine looked at me and pouted. "I guess."

"Oh sweetie, what's wrong?" I asked.

"I won't ever see you again, will I?" she said.

"You'll see me every time you look at your mommy." I patted her cheek. "And with any luck, I'll see you again in just a few years."

"But that won't be me, Mommy," Katherine insisted. "That's your Katherine."

I laughed again and hugged her. "See? That's why you have to go to school. They're making you into a little genius."

"I love you, Mommy." Katherine returned my hug, kissing my cheek. "I'll miss you."

I watched her climb out of bed and leave the room. Looking to Chet as he laid his hand on my shoulder, I tried hard not to start crying again.

"Are you all right?" Chet asked.

I smiled at him, giving a short nod. "I've never been better." It was then that I noticed the plastic bag in his other hand. "What's that?"

"Oh, I got you some clothes." Chet set the bag down in front of me. "I forgot to ask you for your size, so I'm not sure if they'll fit."

"I don't even know my size right now, so I'm sure these will be fine," I said, and then tugged off the shirt that Terry gave me. "At least I can get out of these panties. I am way too big to be wearing a three-year-old's underwear."

The clothing was baggy, and my jeans hung a bit low. But my loose shirt covered up my wrinkled panties, so it all kind of balanced out. The black tennis shoes were a perfect fit even if my socks were sliding down to my ankle right after I put them on. I was grateful that I wouldn't be getting blisters from walking, so I chose not to complain about everything else being a size too big.

I turned to thank Chet, giving a small giggle when I noticed he'd closed his eyes.

"How are they?" he asked.

"Find out for yourself. It's safe to look now."

Chet did, and then grimaced. "Darn. I guessed wrong."

"You were close enough." I gave Chet a hug, looping my arms around his neck. I decided to kiss his cheek on the spur of the moment, and I couldn't help but laugh at how goofy he looked when I stepped back.

His expression was baffled, but when I continued to laugh, his mouth relaxed into a smile. "That girl certainly has mellowed you out, hasn't she?"

"What can I say? Meeting my daughter has given me a new outlook on life. I'm a changed woman."

"So, no more morbid Terry?" Chet asked.

"I might still have emotional problems, being in this shrunken body. But I won't go into morbid mode unless you missed hearing me whine." I laughed when he shook his head. "No, I don't either."

We walked outside to see Katherine off to school, who apparently had breakfast at school with her friends. When the bus rose up over the horizon, Katherine hugged Terry and David before looking expectantly at me.

I knelt, and she hugged me tight. "I'm glad I met you." She beamed a sunny smile at her mother. "Now I know mommy was lying."

"About what?" I asked.

"She told me she was an ugly girl," Katherine replied.

Her parents managed to keep straight faces until she was on the bus and headed to school, but they began laughing immediately thereafter.

Terry wiped her eyes, giving a small snort as she got herself under control. "I don't know, I always thought I was a ugly kid."

"Hey, if you don't mind?" I said, faking annoyance poorly.

"Oh. Right, sorry. I forgot you're still ugly." Terry burst into laughter again.

"But I get better with age," I said.

We continued to joke for a few minutes until Terry left with David in the Jeep. Chet and I sat on a pair of lawn chairs under the awning of the trailer, looking out at the desert as we waited for her to return.

"I don't know," Chet said after a while. "I'd miss city life too much to do this."

"Not me," I remarked, turning my head to favor him with a soft smile. "I'd be perfectly happy to move somewhere isolated with just my family. Whether it's the side of a mountain or the middle of a desert makes no difference to me."

"Meeting your daughter really has changed you, hasn't it?" Chet asked.

"How could it not? All this time, I've been lying to myself. I kept saying I wanted to be mortal so I could grow old and die with my family. Katherine showed me what I really wanted. She's what Morgan stole from me. I won't let him get away with that, and I will get her back. If we never get home, maybe we can find a dimension with nanite technology. When we find a dimension where I can find a cure, I'll settle down and make my own family."

"What about me?" Chet asked. "Vicky was the only family I've ever had."

"What about your parents?" I asked.

"They died in a plane crash when I was two," Chet answered, bowing his head to hide his pout. "I got put in an orphanage, and I stayed there until I was old enough to take care of myself. My powers didn't work right at first, so I scared people. They tried to place me with a foster family, but I was back a week later. I flew through the house and scared everyone."

"They sent you back for so little?"

"Um…no, I destroyed the house." Chet rubbed the back of his neck. "I just flew forward without warning, and I shot through the house diagonally from the back yard to the middle of the street out front."

"Oh."

"Every potential parent after that was informed that I'd destroyed a house. I got my flight under control, but I still had problems with my strength and speed. So, after the first family, the orphanage steered people away from me because I was a problem child."

I looked at Chet in a whole new light because of this revelation, and I felt rotten for everything I'd ever said to him. Before Vicky, his life had been so lonely, but I'd assumed his goody-goody disposition was the result of a sheltered upbringing. Looking out at the desert, I realized that after being revived, it was me who'd had the sheltered life.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Even when I was alone in the city, at least I had Tommy to keep me company. Then of course, I made a lot of friends on my own."

"The other kids were scared of me too, so I never had any friends until after I became a superhero."

"Playing the game gave you ways interact with people," I said.

Chet nodded. "It helped me meet Vicky, and people pretended to like me, even if I intimidated them." His blue eyes glazed over as he stared at the horizon. "Then Vicky left me, and the game seemed pointless. That's sad, isn't it?"

"No, that's romantic." I smiled, leaning over to take Chet's hand. "I'll tell you what. If we can't get home, then you can pretend to be my father. We'll find you a new Vicky, and we can make our own dysfunctional family, okay?"

"Does this mean that you'll stop getting naked in front of me?" Chet asked.

"Heck no! I said it would be a dysfunctional family, didn't I?" We both laughed, and then Chet turned his head. A moment later, I heard the Jeep's engine.

Terry pulled up a bout a minute later, waving us over without shutting off the engine. We took off to Chet's compound without a word spoken among us.

The entrance to Chet's compound slid open as we arrived, and Chet waited for us in the parking bay, his beard shaved off. He had drawn his long hair into a ponytail, and looked more like a scientist than he had the night before.

He walked up to the Jeep with a huge grin. He offered his hand to Chet, chortling before he said, "Hello, me. So nice to meet me." He laughed again, adding, "I always wanted to sat that."

"We really don't have time for pleasantries," I said.

"Oh yes, of course." Turning away, Chet waved for us to follow him. "I've outlined a plan, and set up a conference room just a short way from here."

Chet led us along the main corridor for perhaps two hundred before opening a door into a bland grey room with cinder block walls painted a drab grey. A long folding table was centered in the room, and charts and blueprints littered one end, while some kind of antique folding computer rested on the other side. In the middle was a plate of donuts. My Chet attacked them, stuffing his face like he hadn't eaten in forever.

That thought irritated me, but not nearly as much as the idea that it might be true. "Chet, tell me you weren't starving yourself for the last three days."

Chet swallowed a mouthful of donut and said, "Um…"

The other Chet laughed and pointed across the room. "There's coffee and juice too. And extra donuts if you polish those off."

I went to reach for the plate on the table, being a bit hungry by that point. I was shocked when Chet grabbed the plate, and held it protectively. Her twisted around, keeping me from even seeing the plate.

"Chet!" I shouted.

"Mine!" Chet said, and then faked a growl. "Guh-uur!"

I was still trying to glare at being donut-denied, but the other Chet and Terry were already laughing. And his stupid growl was pretty funny. We took a break from being serious to eat and have juice, and then coffee.

I was just starting to complain that we didn't have any way to wash our hands when the other Chet point out a box of wet wipes next to the coffeemaker. He really did think of everything.

My Chet wiped off his hands and went to the table to examine the top blueprint in the stack.

The other Chet walked around the other side of the table to begin laying out the blueprints over the table. "I've devised a plan which will allow us to get you into the main chamber tonight, but it involves some unpleasant aspects. We have to neutralize the security inside, which means—"

"I can take care of that," my Chet said. "I've already committed myself to the idea that I'll have to break some laws to get home."

"Technically speaking, you've already broken a few laws of physics just by being here," the other Chet said. "Terry, I took your powers into account when I drafted this plan. Tonight, we'll drive to the West entrance." He pointed to draw our attention to a blueprint. "It's locked at night, but security is lax. It's also close to the communications array, which Terry will freeze. That can prevent the security forces from summoning reinforcements by radio or satellite uplinks, but we still need to burrow through this area here and sever the landline communications." He stabbed his finger on the paper and then slid it across the diagram while he talked.

"Once the security team is cut off, we'll enter the West entrance and head to this service corridor. The path to the entrance is clear of security cameras, but the tunnel into the facility has four along this corridor. Terry can freeze those cameras, which will alert the security team. That is when Chet will need to neutralize—"

"You mean kill," Chet corrected…um, himself, I guess.

"If you wish to knock them out, you can. It simply gives me a shorter window to escape the facility. Don't forget that our normal lives will continue on after you're gone."

"I'm not forgetting, and that's why I'll kill the security team," My Chet said. His expression was grim and guilty. "That will give you plenty of time to escape with the evidence you need to clear your name."

"I know this is going to be difficult for you," the other Chet said. "But you must remember, these people are willingly slaughtering civilians for an experiment that never should have been allowed in the first place."

I patted Chet's side, then took his hand. "He understands, but that doesn't make it any easier on his conscience," I said.

The other Chet sighed heavily. "All right, so Chet will kill any security forces that we encounter until we make our way to the main chamber. Once we make it there, Chet will need to escort David to the control room so he can begin charging the particle generator and bring up the sensor arrays. I can shut off the cooling component from the main chamber, but this time I'll also make sure I shut off the components that cool the magnets. By doing that, I'll destroy the entire collider instead of just the particle generator, and then it will be all but impossible for them to continue their horrid experiments."

"How will you escape?" I asked.

Chet shrugged. "I'll think of something."

I shook my head. "With all due respect, this plan needs help. If you were just putting yourself in harm's way, I might be able to accept 'I'll think of something.' As it is, you're putting David at risk, and I won't let you take Katherine's father away on something so flimsy." I glanced at Terry, who gave me a faint smile. I looked from her up to my Chet, gently squeezing his hand. "This is going to require that both of us to get dirty, big guy. I know I'm asking you for a lot, but you saw me and my little girl. For them, I have to ask that you commit yourself to killing every last armed guard on the facility."

Chet nodded without hesitation. "I failed you once, but it won't happen again. Your family on this world will stay safe."

I let go of his hand and went to Terry. "Go home. David can come and pick us up tonight."

She knelt down to hug me. "I'm glad I had the chance to meet you."

"I feel the same way," I said, and then kissed her.

"Don't expect me to kiss myself," the other Chet muttered. Even in an alternate dimension, he was still a smartass.

My Chet was too, which was why he snapped his fingers and muttered, "Damn."