Timecaster: Supersymmetry by J.A. Konrath, Joe Kimball Read Free Book Online Page A

exist, will exist.
    That much possibility had made searching for a suitable universe harder than Sata had anticipated. Before he destroyed this earth, he needed to find a new one to live on. But the overwhelming variety of earths that existed, coupled with his ever-expanding list of criteria, was taking a while. The search engine would winnow it down to a few million possibilities, then he’d add more demands, and the process would have to restart.
    Finding the perfect world was a real pain in the ass.
    He activated the touch screen on his TEV and added “Jessica Fletcher Martial Artist” to his already extensive list of requirements for a home planet. Some of his recent entries included:
    Temperate climate without too much humidity.
    No fossil fuel dependence.
    Libertarian government.
    No giant scorpions.
    A comparable level of scientific advancement to the current earth.
    No fat chicks.
    talking about sci scienceI pu
Apples that screamed when you ate them.
    The list went on for several virtual pages, with hundreds of other criteria. Sata chewed his lower lip, thinking. He really liked the apple idea. Something deep within him loved the idea of sentient fruit, though Sata couldn’t pinpoint why. He erased a few other criteria, such as
people randomly turn themselves inside out,
because even though it would be pleasant to watch, he didn’t want to be one of those random people. He’d also crossed out
man-eating yogurt
. Sata disliked yogurt, but he worried he might accidentally ingest some. Bloody bowels bursting from the bellies of unsuspecting innocents was a delightful concept, but not if he had to watch his own intestines take leave of his body. That was a tad hypocritical, perhaps, but he was the timecaster with the doomsday device, so he could be a hypocrite if he wanted to.
    Anxious as he was to kill everyone on this planet—especially the chef at this restaurant for creating such a thin and garlic-heavy marina sauce—Sata knew he’d have to put more thought into where he wanted to move before he destroyed humanity.
    I’ll annihilate them all tomorrow morning. Maybe after breakfast.
    He sighed, then signaled for his check. The electronic slate came, and he wiped the chip in his wrist over it, adding a ten percent tip. He could have tipped more—his credits wouldn’t transfer to his new earth—but the service was merely adequate and Sata didn’t want to reward such behavior even though the restaurant would be destroyed by nightfall.
    Sata got up and left the establishment, walking out onto Michigan Avenue. The view on Chicago’s Magnificent Mile was predictably green. Ivy lined every building. Hemp and kudzu bloomed on every roof. The green top—both the bio-scooter and the Kermit lanes—was densely compacted clover. The utopeons on the streets and sidewalks were predictably content with their perfect society, their heads no doubt filled with mundane, happy thoughts.
    None of them could possibly recognize the genocidal mastermind walking among them. I might as well be invisible.
    “Sata-san!”
    Sata whirled at the familiar voice, taking a defensive stance, legs wide, hands raised.
    Josh Teague VanCamp hurried up to him. Teague was Sata’s best student when Sata had taught timecasting at the Chicago Peace Department. But Teague was also unimaginative and a bit annoying, the very reason why Sata favored Talon and chose him as an adversary.
    Teague stopped a respectful distance away and bowed at Sata. Sata returned it, maintaining eye-contact. Though he hadn’t seen his name on any warrants, Sata knew that there was a slight possibility the CPD would catch on that he was the one behind the disappearance of Boise. But a quick glance around showed Sata he wasn’t being surrounded by peace officers, and a look skyward proved the heliplanes weren’t gunning for him.
    Teague himself looked like he’d been chewed, swallowed, and shat out. His hair was matted, his face dirty, his clothes covered in brown