7 Splinters in Time Page #5

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in the Gulf of Guinea.

Look for the Babylon hotel

and the plans.

How do I get back?

You don't.

Look for the potassium cyanide.

I left it under a mat.

Years ago, I started to lose

faith in the project.

Kill him,

and then kill yourself.

Easy.

Kill myself? You're just a

splinter in time, a hiccup.

Hang on a second.

Listen.

Without any plans

to build Omphalos,

there'll never be time travel.

No time travel means

no accident,

and no need

to correct the accident.

No fragments, no murders.

You get the girl.

What happens to me now

when I go back then?

You'll be fine. It's just

another version of you.

That's fine.

Trust me, he's out there

somewhere waiting for this.

Look, your tattoo activates

the time travel.

Fix your mind on a time

and a place.

It's organic really.

It's one of the only things

fyodor did right.

You'll see me again.

Hey. Hey.

We're gonna get you out of here.

I'm totally...

I'm totally doing fine here.

I'll be okay.

Remember, room 222...

Brother Dan...

Brother Daniel.

It was the same

day two planes collided

over the prime meridian

in the Gulf of Guinea.

Great.

Excuse me.

Yes, sir?

I'm sorry, I think I'm lost.

I'm looking for room 333.

Oh, well, that's easy.

You're on the second floor.

You're kidding me?

Those numbers are all wrong.

Now that door is mislabeled.

Uh...

No, they're...

They're properly labeled, sir.

This is definitely

the second floor.

I must have the wrong year.

I'm sorry?

Sir...

You have no shoes.

Yes.

Oh, hello, sir.

Um, the mutton Westphalian Ham

you ordered.

Oh, my god.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Who the hell are you?

Did you poison me?

We haven't met yet.

Whoever you are,

you know this is never

going to work.

I'm sorry.

How is it possible

to bring order out of memory?

I should like to begin

at the beginning,

like a Weaver at his loom.

I should like to say

this is the place to start.

There can be no other.

They say I'm not dead,

that I'm just

a splinter in time...

We are mature in one realm,

childish in another.

The past, present,

and future mingle

and pull us backward, forward,

or fix us in the present.

We are made of layers,

cells, constellations.

See that?

Yeah.

It's beautiful.

...when all the lonely

flowers of sense and memory bloom

and die now

in adjacent bites of time.

So fyodor was right.

In my end is my beginning.

Only in this case, there is

no end and no beginning.

I'm here and I'm not here.

Did I die?

Did I get the girl?

Yes and no.

No and yes.

Both are happening at once.

The pieces are there.

You just can't have them

all at once.

Nice house.

Uh, thanks.

Uh, I just got here.

Who... who are you?

I'm gonna go back

in my house now.

Look, that's what happened.

You... you believe me?

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