Kenji pulled the quantum quill from the port. The room was warm, anticipating the universes of ideas Kenji would connect. When Kenji wrote, the world around him changed, as writing jumped his reality from one to another. The quill was slippery to the touch, not fully realized. He had to grip it so it would not slip.
Kenji pocketed the storage port and wrote in the air. Kenji’s quantum signature was the ink it drew; the universe was the paper. Previous quill owners all died from too much use. The past three days Kenji had seen more lifetimes than the previous two Writers combined.
“Careful Kenji,” he said. “Draw without tearing the fabric of reality for your girlfriend. Easy.”
Kenji’s hand trembled as he set the quill, and his leg throbbed from the last botched jump he made. The portal unbalanced as he crossed. Fear gripped him in the ‘Between’ and cut his leg from brushing against it.
He closed his eyes and channeled Rebecka’s smile and her eyes. Holding steady, Kenji drew kanji ‘doorway,’ then added in Rebecka and the universe he needed - a series of symbols and numbers that would triangulate the other bubble. He was creating a probability wormhole that connected the bubbles of two universes. When they connected, reality would warp and allow for information to bleed across infecting the one, or slipping him into the other.
“No jumping this time. Just bleed it a bit,” he said.
A rainbow of lights bent from the cut like a mirror reflecting bent light from a prism, causing diamonds of repeating patterns across the blackened quiet room. In between the light was darkness that also spread as if he was staring into the event horizon of a black hole.
The pressures on the quill added quickly, each stroke more difficult, the final three digits Kenji carved using both hands. Finally connected, Kenji focused the bleed from universe to universe to infect Rebecka with the Rebecka from the other side. This should heal the tumour. But will her memories or personality change?
“I have to try,” Kenji finally decided.