Dreamsongs - Volume II by George R. R. Martin Page A

the hand, seeing something else, remembering. Just when
we think she’s done, her finger moves over PAST Tom’s thumb, counting a ‘finger’
that is not there.
     
    CAT
     
    Six.
     
    Now she is done. Tom closes his fingers
into a FIST. In the strained silence that follows that moment, we
     
    FADE OUT
     
    END OF ACT II
     
    ACT III
     
    FADE IN
     
    INT. - TRAGER’S OFFICE - NEAR DAWN
     
    Trager leans forward, presses his intercom.
     
    TRAGER
     
    Griggs, summon the
matron, and tell Matsumoto to prepare an injection of
    pentathol.
     
    (to Tom)
     
    Bring her out of
it.
     
    Trager heads for the door. Tom bolts after
him.
     
    TOM
     
    You can’t.
     
    Trager EXITS, followed by Tom. Cameron
remains with Cat.
     
    CUT TO
     
    INT. - CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUS
     
    Tom catches Trager by the shoulder, spins
him around.
     
    TOM
     
    What do you want
from her?
     
    TRAGER
     
    A story that makes
sense.
     
    Matsumoto comes up to them in the hall. He’s
carrying an instrument case. Tom is still intent on Trager.
     
    TOM
     
    You refuse to see
the truth when it’s right in front of your face. How many
    fingers, Trager?
     
    Tom holds up both hands, fingers spread.
     
    TRAGER
     
    What is it with you
and fingers?
     
    TOM
     
    I learned to count
on my fingers. So did you. It’s universal. We have ten
    fingers, so we
count in units of ten. One hundred is ten times ten. One
    thousand is ten
times ten times ten.
     
    TRAGER
     
    What’s your point?
     
    TOM
     
    That gun you took
from Cat. Matsumoto said the magazines hold one
    hundred forty-four
rounds. Didn’t that strike you as an odd number?
     
    In b.g., the matron approaches down the
hall, FANNING herself,
     
    TRAGER
     
    Maybe.
     
    TOM
     
    Twelve times twelve
is one hundred forty-four.
     
    Matsumoto gets it, even if Trager does not.
     
    MATSUMOTO
     
    Base twelve
mathematics. Of course.
     
    TOM
     
    A race with twelve fingers would count in twelves, Trager. How much
    evidence do you
need? Face it. That woman in there is not a twentieth
    century American.
     
    TRAGER
     
    What are you
saying, that she came down from another planet?
     
    MATSUMOTO
     
    Not likely. We’ve
run DNA samples. Her genetic structure is completely
    human.
     
    TOM
     
    She told you where
she came from. Earth. But not our Earth.
     
     MATSUMOTO
     
    A parallel world?
     
    TOM
     
    Exactly.
     
    The matron reaches them and stands fanning
herself.
     
    TRAGER
     
    Excuse me?
     
    MATSUMOTO
     
    A neighbor
universe. Certain mathematicians have theorized about the
    existence of...
well, a layman would call them other dimensions. The proofs
    suggest that an
infinite number of these other timelines may coexist with
    our own.
     
    TRAGER
     
    What the hell is a
timeline?
     
    TOM
     
    Remember the last
World Series?
     
    TRAGER
     
    The Braves lost in
seven. Cameron was out a week’s pay.
     
    TOM
     
    Let me borrow that,
     
    (grabs fan)
     
    What if there was
another world where the Braves won? Look, we think of
    history as a
straight line. Past leads to present.
     
    He holds up the fan, folded: a straight
line.
     
    TOM
     
    But if more than
one result is possible ... maybe they both happen. New
    worlds are created
at each nexus.
     
    Tom unfolds the fan, just one notch. Now
one red fold and one black diverge from the axis pin.
     
    TOM
     
    So you have one
world where the Braves won and one world where the
    Twins won.
     
    (opens the fan more)
     
    Then you have the
world where the Pirates and the Bluejays played instead.
     
    TOM
     
    (still spreading)
     
    The world where the
Dodgers won the pennant. The world where the
    Dodgers are still
in Brooklyn. The world where baseball was never invented
    and everybody bets
on cricket in October.
     
    (the fan spreads wide)
     
    An infinite numbers
of worlds, embracing all the possibilities, all the
    alternatives. Not a
universe. A multiverse.
     
    Trager looks at the fan, then at Matsumoto.
     
    TRAGER
     
    And these other
worlds