Intelligence was a wind blowing humanity faster and faster. But a man can hide from the wind, he thought. Even change its direction for a moment.

I bought the qubit microscope. It was just sitting there, forgotten after the inquiries started. I scanned my own brain and noticed the telltale quantum irregularities we had only seen in the hart of the collider. Which meant the crazies on the internet were right: our brains are quantum computers.

It also meant something else very, very important. If we used quantum particles to think, we must be entangled with quantum particles somewhere else. Of somewhen else. Suddenly the whole doomed Project offered up a small ray of hope, but in an entirely new direction. We would never be able to send a person back in time, but I might be able to send information back.