by Chiara De Giorgi
Sometimes you don’t need more than a couple basic ingredients to cook up an apocalypse. A white cat and a game of pool is all it took for mine. Maybe the beer is also to blame — we Hoppers aren’t seasoned drinkers, I’m afraid.
*
Hi, my name is Al-Eph, and I’m a Time Hopper, although this definition is slightly misleading, as it implies there is such a thing as time, whereas time is a concept that belongs to your local culture and is unknown throughout most of the universe — at least the way you conceive it. For the sake of simplicity, however, I accept to employ the expression, as it appears to make more sense to you than the more correct description of my kind: we simply are, and we hop. Or, to put it another way: we hop, therefore we are.
We entered your reality through the event popularly known as “the Big Bang”. On your planet, you all more or less agree to consider it the beginning of time and space and matter and whatnot. But it was not my beginning; for me — for us — it was rather the end. Our own universe collapsed in on itself, and out of it we came, to spread and redistribute everything, to create a new reality for us to live and hop within. We greatly enjoyed the endless possibilities: imagine finding yourself at Point Zero, having all that discarded energy and matter at your disposal, having the chance to start a whole universe from scratch … You have been studying and exploring it for thousands of your years, and whenever you think you have found the answer to one of your many questions, something unexpectedly pops up, that forces you to reconsider every conclusion you have drawn up to that point. You’ll never guess that it’s us behind it all. Now, for example, you’re all puzzling over dark matter and dark energy, wondering how they managed to escape your attention so far. Guess what? They didn’t, they just weren’t there. One measurement shows you the Universe is inflating; another says it’s shrinking … I’d love to see your faces as I reveal it to you: every single calculation of yours is right, in its own time! One hop forward: the Universe is bigger. Two hops backward, it’s smaller. Three more, it gets bigger again. Does this mean the Universe is bouncing then? Nope, not really, because we can stop the hopping any time. The Universe does nothing, we do. Got it?
Why do we act this way? Although tinkering with energy and matter is a very satisfying activity, in most cases it is not a game: we’re just trying to make the Universe a more comfortable place for us to live, by changing the arrangement and structure of galaxies and various celestial bodies according to need or personal taste. There are several ways to achieve these results, my favourite being explosions – that’s why I typically work with novae, supernovae, and the occasional black hole. Also, I can say without false modesty that I am quite an expert in the field of apocalypses and Big Bangs.
Oh, yes: of course, there’s more than one Big Bang, and many apocalypses! By the way: you should give some more thought to what you call an apocalypse. Think of the dinosaurs: one small meteorite and they were wiped out. Apocalypse, surely, from their point of view. But then, thanks to the Earth not being tromped by those gigantic beasts anymore, your kind developed. Not a Big Bang, you say? Well, maybe not, but a beginning nonetheless: yours. This is the way of the Universe, after all: one’s apocalypse is another’s Big Bang. Mors tua, vita mea, as also your ancient wise ones used to say. Have you ever wondered who or what would take over your planet if you humans were wiped out? Or what would the consequences be of the sudden disappearance of Earth?
As a matter of fact, something like that has already happened. Or it’s happening right now; or it will happen, depending on which side of hop you find yourselves.
*
I entered the pub that night determined to 1) find the cat, and 2) not let myself be seen.
I thoroughly cursed the moment I decided to meddle with humans and their world: on Earth, my Hopper skills are limited by the combination of your atmosphere and other smaller stuff you haven’t discovered yet, therefore it was impossible for me to alter my energy field so as to make myself invisible, and I engineered a disguise with a thick coat, dark glasses, and a wide-brimmed hat. Which, as I entered the pub, I realized was the best way to make myself conspicuous, so I quickly retraced my steps and threw everything into the first garbage collection bin I found. I went back into the pub and this time nobody turned to look at me. Thank goodness. I had already been there, much earlier — or later, depending on a Hopper’s point of view. At any rate, I hoped that the individual I needed to avoid wouldn’t notice me. I had to find the damn cat at all costs. I looked around, trying to guess where it could have come from. I reasoned that if a cat walks into a pub, it is probably looking for food, rather than alcohol. However, the kitchen was closed at that time and the patrons were ordering one beer after another.
So as not to attract anyone’s attention, I ordered a pint, but I wasn’t going to drink it; I had learned the hard way what alcohol does to Hoppers. Don’t ask. Let’s just say something apocalyptic happened the last time I had two beers. Or the next time. I mean, by now you should’ve picked up on how the ‘timeline’ really works: it doesn’t go straight from here to there, but folds back on itself, it twists and untwists, and if you can’t navigate it, you can get lost in its folds. As a matter of fact, let’s call it with a more appropriate name: ‘hopline.’ This is because, as I mentioned at the beginning, time as you know it doesn’t exist, but I don’t want to blow your minds with concepts you’ll come up with in a few hundred years — which is also thanks to me, believe it or not.
As I made my way around the tables and tried to spot the bloody feline, I was also keeping an eye on one of the pool tables at the back of the pub, where a man of about my size and appearance was about to begin his first game of the evening. So preoccupied, I didn’t notice the woman coming towards me and holding a pint. This detail might have been irrelevant, but it was crucial, because we collided in the middle of the pub and our respective jugs crashed into each other and shattered into a thousand pieces, spilling a fair amount of beer — mine a lager, hers a stout, in case you were wondering — all over the place. The patrons we showered with our drinks didn’t appreciate it and sprang up to better insult us. They demanded compensation, each in their own way: one wanted money to pay for the dry cleaning; one wanted to start a fight; another suggested something that involved taking off our clothes (they were soaked in beer anyway, he pointed out). The pub manager decided that the woman and I would pay for the next round of beers for all the people involved in the incident. The woman started crying, three bartenders arrived with rags and cloths and a broom and dustpan to clean up the mess, and in the meantime the attention of everyone in the pub was focused on us. Exactly what I didn’t want to happen! I should have carried out my mission quietly and unnoticed and instead I had dozens of eyes upon me. I was about to lose my temper. Stupid humans, and to say I was doing all that for you! For a moment I was tempted to send everyone into a hop-warp from where they would never resurface, but I remembered that the main reason I was there that night was to prevent humans from becoming unwitting victims of the irresponsible management of the Universe by Time Hoppers. (Well, by one Time Hopper in particular. But let’s not dwell on the details right now.)
In an attempt to restore the peace, I announced I’d buy a beer for each person who was in the pub at that moment. By my estimation, the man at the pool table had not had a drink yet and I was pretty sure he could handle at least one beer. I should be careful that he didn’t have a second, though. But really, if I managed to track down and catch the cat, the number of beers he chugged would be completely irrelevant; he could drain the whole pub, for all I cared.
Order was quickly restored and soon nobody was paying any attention to me. Unobtrusively, I resumed my slow walk towards the billiards area. I froze when I saw a thick white tail sticking out from under the table where my target was chalking the tip of his cue stick. I cursed under my breath. How could I get to the chubby ball of fur without being noticed by the guy?
At that moment I realised that the woman I had clashed with a little earlier was by my side. I looked at her, both curious and annoyed, but she smiled at me and then pointed at the cat.
“What’s a cat doing in a billiard room?” she asked, amused.
Taken aback, I improvised. “It’s my cat,” I replied. “I’m trying to get it back, but I don’t want to scare it. Besides …”
“Besides?”
“I can’t explain now, but I can’t let the man who’s about to hit the cue ball see me.” I was running out of seconds and couldn’t let the cat jump on the pool table, so I dared,
“Maybe you could help me?”
“Sure!” she exclaimed. “What should I do?”
“Retrieve the cat,” I replied, taking off my jacket. I handed it to her and added, “You’ll come up behind it quietly, throw this on it, make a bundle and bring it back to me.” It seemed like a good plan: quick, effective, and unproblematic.
Enthusiastically, the woman took the jacket and approached the table. When she was a few steps away, she got down on her knees and continued on all fours, piquing the curiosity of more than one drinker. The man with the cue stick also looked up and, fearing that he might spot me, I quickly turned away. Thus, I did not see what happened in the next few moments, the moments that determined everything that followed.
I heard a frightened meow, followed by thumps and bangs and finally the unmistakable sound of billiard balls scattering on the table, falling on the floor, breaking glasses. I turned around to assess the situation. It was a disaster! As the commotion grew and people cursed loudly, some trying to retrieve the billiard balls rolling around on the floor, I focused my attention on the pool table. The woman was sitting cross-legged in the middle, cuddling a bundle she was holding in her lap: my jacket, and a white, furry head poking out of it. The man, still holding the cue stick, was motionless and had a puzzled look on his face, as if he was still wondering what had happened. I was sure he was thinking of something else, though. I would have to keep an eye on him for the next few days, which I wasn’t particularly eager to do.
The woman saw me and raised a hand, waving happily.
“Hey!” she called loudly. “I got it, did you see?”
How stupid of her! Hadn’t I told her I shouldn’t let the man with the stick see me? Now he obviously shifted his gaze to me. Quickly, I lowered my head, then I pointed to the exit of the pub, and walked briskly towards it.
“Can you explain what happened in there?” I asked, a little aggressively, when she joined me on the street.
“This little darling heard me coming,” she replied, rubbing her nose on the head of the cat, which started purring in response. “The moment I tried to throw your jacket over it, it leapt away, and I ran after it. I only managed to tackle it when it had already jumped onto the table, in the middle of the balls. Yeah, sure, there was a bit of a commotion, but it’s Saturday night and this is a pub, I guess it’s business as usual, right?” she concluded with a laugh.
She handed the cat to me, and I took it in my arms, but it started to move, and I didn’t know what to do with it. The woman saw me struggling and offered to take it back. She seemed to know how to handle a cat, so I gladly entrusted it to her and went back to worrying: what just happened was precisely the event that I was trying to prevent.
*
I feel like I have to explain something here.
First of all, you should know that the man playing pool in the pub was a Time Hopper like me. You don’t need to know more about him, for the moment. Another thing you should know is that, since all celestial bodies are spherical, we Hoppers sometimes use spherical objects to do our simulations when we want to plan some adjustments in the Universe. Of course, there is a number of variables that ought to be taken into account, but, since the Universe is quite big, there is little that can cause actual problems, and we don’t like to waste time on trivialities. Therefore, a general idea of the outcome is typically considered enough preparation before implementing some changes in a galaxy or whatever. We often just act on a whim and without any preliminary operations, to tell you the truth. However, in a few, rare occasions, the outcome happens to create some major issues, so we hop into the folds of what you call ‘time’ and rectify the situation.
The reason I was at the pub that night was exactly to prevent one of those rare occasions from taking place. For reasons that I can’t really get into right now (for which I hope you’ll be grateful) your planet should not be destroyed. Yet. I was involved in one or two small Earth incidents when I was younger (which is to say, I was on a different hop-twist) and now I was ready to do anything possible to prevent another. I knew exactly what kind of idea was born in the man’s mind when he had seen the billiard balls scattering all over the pub, and my task was now to prevent him from putting it into practice. I mean, I knew how the man felt when he saw something explode, and the billiard episode quite resembled an explosion. The first time I witnessed this happening, only the cat was involved, whereas now a lady had also landed on the pool table. That couldn’t be good. The fact that the man had only had one beer tonight, instead of two, seemed irrelevant at this point.
*
The woman’s voice roused me from my musings.
“Where do you live?”
“Why do you want to know?” I asked, suspiciously.
She shrugged. “I thought I’d walk with you, since you seem to be having trouble handling your cat.”
“No need,” I replied abruptly. “And that’s not really my cat. In fact, you can keep it, since you two seem to have made friends.”
“Oh, did you hear that, sweetie? I can keep you!” she cooed into the ear of the evil feline, who licked the tip of her nose. Ew.
At that moment, the billiard man exited the pub, so I quickly hid behind the garbage collection bin. I spied him as he chatted with the lady. He introduced himself, and she gave him her name, or what she wanted to be called, anyway: she was “just C,” she said. I heard her as she apologized for disrupting the pool game. “I’m sorry my cat jumped on the table while you were playing.” Apparently, she had already taken full ownership of the diabolical beast.
“It’s a beautiful cat”, the man replied. “What’s it called?”
“His name is Schrödinger,” she said. Something in the way she said that tickled my memory, and I wondered whether I had met her before. Or after. I don’t know, it was hard to say. You humans all look kind of the same to me, to be honest.
They talked some more, but I could no longer hear what they were saying. A little later I saw them walk away together, so I retrieved my coat, sunglasses, and hat from the garbage collection bin and put them on. They smelled a bit but, on the street and in the dark, they were an excellent disguise. I followed the two, keeping a few metres behind them. As I walked, I thought about the events of the evening and above all I wondered about the woman. Who was she? Why did she feel so familiar? Why was she there and why had she intruded? Was it just chance, or, as the wise old ones always say, there is no such thing as chance?
Finally, the couple stopped in front of the man’s house. I had expected them to go there, but I wanted to see whether the woman would go inside with him. She didn’t, but I saw them exchange phone numbers. Before walking away, the woman turned to look in my direction. Had she spotted me? Hard to say. At that moment, however, another thought struck me: ‘C’ had been close enough to both me and the billiard man to realize how much alike we looked. What inferences would she draw from that? And why had she accompanied him home? I cursed. It should have been a simple operation, but there I was: nothing accomplished, and I was overcome by doubts and questions for which I had no answer!
I had not planned on staying for the night, I didn’t have a place to go; so I decided to rent a room at a small B&B not far from the man’s house. If things went like the first time, he would spend a few hours working on the project that the incident in the billiard room had inspired him before going to sleep (even we Hoppers need to sleep, especially on Earth. Oxygen is quite heavy; we get easily tired.). I knew how he worked, he kept a blackboard in the living room, the old-fashioned kind, made of slate, on which he wrote with coloured chalk. I was going to take a nap, and then I would go have a look through the window, to check his progress.
*
What I saw blew my mind: the man’s plan was even more ambitious than I remembered from the other time. Clearly, the woman jumping on the pool table to retrieve the cat had stimulated his creative side: what he had concocted was truly fantastic! Unfortunately, it would still cause Earth’s untimely destruction — with a far more spectacular execution, I must say — therefore I had to stop him. Still, I couldn’t help feeling proud of the man’s mind.
I entered his home through the back door and stood for a while staring at the blackboard, almost hypnotized by the marvelously dangerous project, pondering what to do. First, I took a picture. I didn’t feel like destroying such a work of art forever without even keeping a memento. If the first time the cat jumping on the pool table had inspired the man to launch a black hole in the midst of the Solar System and simulate a game of pool with planets instead of balls, now having both a cat and a woman disrupt his game had given him the idea of launching two black holes, causing a chain reaction whose consequences he didn’t bother assessing, but which I knew were too deadly to be allowed to take place.
I finally resolved to make a couple of changes to his plan, namely to adjust the launch coordinates of the black holes, so as to make the whole plan remarkably less harmful. The handwriting was the same, it was possible that he would not notice, in which case my mission could be considered successfully completed with a minimum of annoyance. Finally, I went back to my room at the B&B, and I fell into a deep sleep.
*
I suppose the moment has come to tell you why I looked very much like the billiard man, why I knew so much about him, and why our handwritings were the same —although you’ve probably guessed it by now. He and I are the same Time Hopper —which is the reason why I couldn’t let him see me — and I was on a mission to prevent myself from setting in motion a series of events in the Solar System that would culminate, within a few generations of humans, in an irrevocable apocalypse. I had already done it once. Or would do, whatever. Trying to fix an event in time always complicates everything. And before some of you smart-asses point out that, if the woman wasn’t there the first time, she couldn’t be there the second time unless she was also a Hopper, let me remind you that time is not a straight line, but a multitude of twisted, entangled lines, so your inference is incorrect. However, in this case you would be right because C was really a Time Hopper like me, and one I used to associate with in a hop-twist a long way from there. But I didn’t realise that until morning.
*
“I can’t believe I did not recognise you,” I said, probably for the third time. I was sitting in a café and C was sitting in front of me, nibbling at my croissant just like she did in the old days.
She shrugged. “You never paid much attention at people’s looks,” she stated matter-of-factly. “And I didn’t want you to recognize me last night.”
I suddenly felt incredibly tired. I couldn’t figure out what she was after, and her ambiguous and inexplicable behaviour was really getting on my nerves. I mean, she knew what was at stake here. She was there when the disaster happened — or would happen, at any rate. And yet. She was the reason my plan had failed the night before, and the reason why Earth was still in danger of suffering an apocalypse. Not to mention the consequences for us. Had she forgotten what the destruction of this planet at the wrong time would bring along?
“Why are you doing this?” I asked in a thin voice.
She smiled broadly and looked me straight in the eyes.
“Do you remember?” she asked. “Do you remember how good things were when we were on Earth together? And, after that, when we designed all those marvellous innovations in the Milky Way? We performed miracles that deserve to survive until the end of time, if you’ll allow me a human phrase. Life was amazing then.”
Despite myself I had to smile. Oh, how right she was. Those were the times … if you’ll also allow me a human phrase. I tried to bring the conversation back to the current situation.
“Do you remember?” I asked her sternly. “Or have you forgotten what happened every time we unleashed our imagination disregarding all common sense?”
She waved a hand in front of her face, as if she were swatting a fly.
“A couple of accidents, and we were just kids, for Heaven’s sake! And unlike you, I have spent several years on this planet, stuck in its boring time, trying in vain to make sense of it. Schrödinger here is the only one I could count on, before you came along and showed me the possibilities of life as a Hopper. And now,” she added angrily. “Now you want to stop one of our best accomplishments from happening!”
I was still trying to catch up with what she was saying. I scowled at the white, furry head poking from the backpack she had laid half-open on her seat. Now I thought about it, she always had a cat or another with her, and she called them all Schrödinger. I clearly sucked at recognising cats as well as humans, but — a frightening thought suddenly flashed through my mind. This must be the same cat that had jumped on the pool table the first time, causing the balls to scatter everywhere they were not supposed to, which gave me the idea of launching a black hole in the midst of the Solar System and see what happened. (Which was a very bad idea, by the way. What happened is that my game of pool with your planets as balls had unexpected repercussions on the whole galaxy which in turn caused huge issues in the neighbouring galaxies, and then … Have I already mentioned it was a very bad idea? I believe I have. Please don’t force me to relive that traumatic experience. Besides, there’s a very good reason why the hop-powers-that-be determined that Earth is not to be destroyed before humankind also develops the ability to hop. Which will happen — or happened — several twists from here, but it will prove — or proved — crucial for the survival of three more species, the original Time Hoppers included. Okay, I’ll stop blabbing now, I have probably told you more already than you are able to process anyway.) If this really was the same cat, it meant that C was also there the first time it jumped on the pool table. Which, in turn, meant that she had always wanted the apocalypse to happen.
She saw understanding dawn on me and smiled slyly, biting off another piece of croissant.
“I don’t get it. Why?” I said, feeling defeated.
She snorted. “When or where have you become so boring? You used to be so exciting to have around! Honestly, you showed me the Universe’s true colours. What happened to that Hopper?”
“I’m just trying to be responsible,” I snapped. “I am not boring, I like excitement and explosions like the next Hopper, but there is a limit, and …”
“Blah, blah, blah!”
I slammed a hand on the table. “Don’t blah blah me! You’re being ridiculous. I am not saying we should stop making changes in the Universe and I’m not saying we cannot have fun doing it. This one, though, this apocalypse is far too dangerous for everyone, and you know it. So, do us all a favour and don’t throw a tantrum. What is it, that you miss? Space? Light? The distances? The mystery? Tell me what you want, and I promise I’ll do my best to indulge you, but this apocalypse must be stopped.”
She lowered her eyes and remained silent for a few moments, then shook her head.
“No,” she said. “This apocalypse is exactly what I want.”
“I can’t let you,” I muttered. “No matter what I have to do to stop you.”
She shrugged. “Want to kill me? Go ahead, I don’t care. The apocalypse is still happening. I have talked to the other you. The reasonable one,” she added with a smirk. “He’s aware of your presence here, I told him of the modifications you made to his plan. He’s going ahead no matter what you do to me.”
I felt panic tighten my throat. What was I going to do?
“At least tell me why,” I said at last.
She sighed and averted her gaze. I was beginning to think she’d never give me an answer, when she finally talked.
“Life needs meaning, whether you are a human or a Time Hopper. I was raised as a human, then realised I was a Time Hopper. I’m neither here nor there, but I know what it means to feel alive. And I want to die feeling alive. This plan, the plan you want so desperately to stop … It’s the best thing we’ve ever done together. Yes, we. I couldn’t do it on my own, I lack your expertise. So, I subtly suggested it to you.”
“Subtly? By dropping a cat in the middle of a game of pool?”
“Exactly,” she replied, angrily. “It is our achievement, and it’s spectacular! No one has ever done anything of this magnitude, before or after us! So what, if everybody dies in the end? Everybody dies in the end anyway. But do you remember how glorious it will be? So, why not? Why not go out with a bang, everybody?”
I let her finish her rant. To contradict her, or to try and reason with her … it would be useless. We’re talking about someone who threw her own world into chaos by disrupting its time when she was only eleven, after all. There was only one option, if I wanted to save Earth, generations of unknowing humans, the Solar System, the Milky Way, and so on.
Did you think dark matter is good for nothing? Well, think again.
*
I needed to devise a plan, and I needed to do so quickly, before C and my doppelgänger put their idea into practice. Speed was of the essence, but I also had another problem: getting to them without raising their suspicions would be impossible. C knew me too well, she knew I wouldn’t abandon my mission, and she would certainly be on the alert. Damn it, secret missions where no explosions were involved were definitely not my forte!
I would use dark matter. Of that, I was sure. I needed a way to get us all in the proximity of a dark cloud, but not just any dark cloud … Yeah, great: now you need another explanation. As if I wasn’t in enough of a hurry already.
First things first: not all dark matter is the same. You’ll find out yourselves in due time, but I’ll give you a heads-up, so you can follow this story. What you need to know for now is that dark matter can be divided into two broad categories: what constitutes a one-way exit from the Universe, and what does not. I was interested in finding an exit as soon as possible, through which I would throw my two selves and C. And she would certainly take the cat with her. For a moment my thoughts strayed, as I tried to imagine what Schrödinger would look like in another universe, after passing through a cloud of dark matter. Focus, Hopper! This was the most important mission of my existence, on which the literal survival of billions of living beings of various species depended. No pressure.
After some serious, if hasty, reasoning, I concluded that it would be completely impossible to have C, the cat, and the billiard man quietly follow me into a cloud of dark matter. I am talking about a probability, at a rough guess, of -88.97%. (No, don’t make me waste my breath explaining negative probabilities as well. Work this out for yourselves.) Therefore, I was left with only one option: to bring the cloud to us. Tricky. And dangerous. Despite there being no explosions in sight, I felt thrilled. Interesting.
Time to hop out of there.
*
The way you’re used to thinking about the world, life, and the Universe, involves three space dimensions and a temporal one — which you don’t quite understand yet (quite obviously, since your idea of time is wildly incorrect, but I’ll stop being a know-it-all now, I promise). For once, though, stretch your imagination and think of a reality in which there are three temporal dimensions and one space dimension. This way you should be able to picture me hopping from twist to fold in the hopline until I was in the spatial vicinity of a dark cloud. Follow me? Good. Once I found my cloud, I used the hopline to locate your planet and, on it, my two archenemies and their fluffy white cat. I was so engrossed in this task, that I completely forgot that this operation would be my last in this universe.
Finally, there they are. I found them, a few twists and twines away.
I announced myself loudly. “Hey, guys.”
They gasped.
“What the hell are you doing here?” screamed my other self, turning away quickly. A knee-jerk reaction, I suppose, since, at this point, the fact that we were meeting face to face made very little difference.
Without giving them time to think or do anything, I grabbed them both by the hand and hopped.
C screamed. I believe she kind of guessed what was going on and wasn’t happy about it. As I imagined, the cat was with her. At least my curiosity would be satisfied, I would see Schrödinger in his new form. Which turned out to be an intriguing discovery: just like us, inside the dark cloud the cat shed its earthly guise and, lo and behold, he too, was a Time Hopper! I suppose that partly explains the myth of the nine lives, doesn’t it?
My other self was very quiet. He probably knew he wouldn’t last. I was the stronger self there, so I would get out of the dark cloud, while he would stay inside and slowly become part of the cloud himself. C was yelling at me, she was truly upset, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that way. On the one hand, I understood her rage: I had stopped her from accomplishing what she considered her magnum opus. On the other hand — what the fuck, I was exiling myself to an unknown universe because of her.
“Will you shut up!” I shouted back.
Several insults and curses later (at some point I tuned her out) we found ourselves on the other side of the cloud and she was finally silent. I took a few moments to enjoy the peace, then watched her in her Time Hopper appearance, in which free energy predominated. I’ve never learned to read the expressions of human beings, but I could read Time Hoppers’, and C’s expression at that moment was as clear to me as the light from a quasar. C was happy. The happiest being I have ever seen, in fact. Uh-oh.
But that is (or will be, or was) another story. On your world, meanwhile, the apocalypse had been averted. You’re welcome.
Chiara De Giorgi is an Italian-born author currently living in Berlin, Germany. She holds a BA in Anglo-American and Italian Studies from the University of Potsdam. She has a passion for stories and cats and has been working in the publishing industry for years as an editor and translator. Her Chiara: Just in Time children’s book series, designed to make science fun and accessible, has been published in multiple languages, along with her teen novel and various short stories spanning several genres. She lives by the adage, “Don’t take life too seriously, you’ll never get out alive anyway,” which is reflected in many of her stories.