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Eifelheim by michael flynn5/9/2023 ![]() ![]() Dimensions are quicksilver slippy-looked at sideways, they would vanish.Īnd yet, she sensed a pattern lurking beneath the chaos and she stalked it as a cat might-in stealthy half-steps and never quite straightforward. Space and time spiral off in curious, fractal vortices, in directions that have no name. The geodesics are warped and twisted things. It is not a beautiful thing, this world of hers. ![]() ![]() It may not be networked to the wider world, but Sharon Nagy creates her own worlds, strange and inaccessible, among which lies one at the very edges of cosmology. Sharon uses a computer, too, but it's an organic one that she keeps between her ears. She gazes in Tom's direction, but she is looking on some inner vision, so in a way she too has her back turned. Sharon lounges on the pillow sofa on the other side of the room, notebook open, surrounded by wadded-up balls of paper and half-finished cups of herbal tea, thinking about whatever it is that theoretical physicists think about. He has his back to the room, which means to Sharon. There is Tom hunched over the computer by the window, tracking down obscure references over the Net. ![]() That is easy enough today, when the world lies literally at our very fingertips but it can be a trap, too, for what we need may lie just beyond the tips of our fingers. During summer sessions, Sharon and Tom both did their research from home. ![]()
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