The subject is sitting with his back turned to me. Strange, they’re usually working on a machine, or maybe talking to themselves. Still, it’s not for me to wonder why. I come up behind him, and garrote him. I see the head on the ground, and something clicks in my brain. To make sure, I pull up my family tree. Sure enough, Reginald White… Everything’s getting brighter now. Ah, shi-
There is a paradox. A knot in space-time.