“There!” shouted the producer while the sound engineer hurried to clip a radio mike to her. “She says her mother and father came from here in some parallel dimension or something like that, and she’s got her father’s watch, and…I don’t know. What can I tell you? Busk it. Ask her what it feels like to be from outer space.” “Thanks a lot, Ted,” muttered Tricia. She checked that her mike was securely clipped, gave the engineer some level, took a deep breath, tossed her hair back and switched into her role of professional reporter, on home ground, ready for anything. At least, nearly anything.
