Doughnut - By Tom Holt Page 0,122
thrown us off the edge.”
“But I didn’t,” Theo yelled. “I blew up our VVLHC in our universe. What happened back there was nothing to do with—”
Max shook his head sadly. “And you call yourself a physicist,” he said. “Clearly, when the collider blew, it had quantum repercussions throughout the multiverse. All of which,” he added helpfully, “are your fault too. I don’t know, Theo, you always were such a careless bugger.”
“Not my fault. Not!”
“Screaming and yelling won’t make you right,” Max said gently. “When you look at it calmly and dispassionately, it’s obvious that when you blew up the VVLHC, you caused a fundamental rift in the fabric of, Theo, what are you doing with that cushion? Ouch. That hurt.”
Theo threw the cushion on the floor, dropped back into the armchair and buried his head in his hands. He wanted to sulk, but sulking requires a fairly intensive level of concentration, and what Max had just said about the VVLHC kept coming back to him, like the taste of a frankfurter. A fundamental rift. Of course Max was using terms whose meaning he didn’t really understand. He might have been Pieter’s student for a while, but he’d never done any work; most of what he actually knew about quantum physics had most likely been gleaned from mid-afternoon reruns of Star Trek. Even so. A fundamental rift –
“It said something about gourmet cuisine,” Max said after a while. “I’m hungry.”
“What?”
“Gourmet cuisine,” Max repeated. “You seen a kitchen anywhere?”
Theo looked up. “No. Maybe it’s slipped down the back of the sofa.”
Max mimed an exaggerated laugh. “If there’s no kitchen,” he said, “presumably there’s some sort of room service.”
“In hell?” Theo grinned wildly at him. “You think you can ring through to Reception and a demon with horns sticking out of his head’ll come running with a toasted sandwich on the end of his pitchfork?”
Max frowned. “You’re overstating it a bit there, aren’t you? This isn’t hell exactly.”
“It is from where I’m sitting.”
“I bet you,” Max went on, “that around here somewhere – ah, here we go.” He pounced like a swooping osprey and brandished a TV remote. “Now then.” He pointed it at the TV set and methodically pressed all the buttons in turn. Eventually, a menu appeared on the screen.
“Guest Services,” he said. “That’ll be it. Right, let’s see.”
Theo looked at the screen, as Max scrolled down a list until he came to Food & Drink:
If you entered the Clubhouse via the LastChance facility, we regret that you are not permitted to access the Food & Drink facility. This is because you are a split second away from death and therefore do not need to eat or drink. Instead, why not enjoy the wide range of entertainment and leisure activities on offer in the Fun N Games locker, situated behind the sofa?
“Bastards,” Max growled. “I’m starving.”
Theo laughed out loud. Eternity, with nothing to eat, and Max. It just got better and better. “You’re closest,” he said. “Find this locker thing.”
“I don’t want entertainment and leisure activities,” Max said furiously, “I want food.”
“What you want,” Theo started to say, then thought better of it. “The locker,” he said. “Now.”
Grumbling, Max slid off the sofa and investigated. “There’s a shoebox,” he said. “That’s all.”
“That must be it, then. What’s inside?” Pause. “This can’t be it.”
“Really? Why not?”
Max stood up, holding a small rectangular box. “All we’ve got in here are some kids’ games,” he said. “Pack of cards. Ludo. Snakes and fucking ladders. Happy Families.”
“That’s appropriate.”
“That,” Max said forcefully, “is not my idea of a wide range of entertainment and leisure activities.”
Theo could see his point. “You sure there’s nothing else?”
“Yes. No, I tell a lie. There’s also a ball of wool and two knitting needles.”
“Ah. That makes all the difference.”
“It’s junk,” Max snarled, throwing the box on the sofa. “Sorry, but I refuse to spend eternity playing Ludo.” He grabbed the remote and pressed some more buttons. “Surely there’s at last something to watch. Yes, here we are. Options, that looks good. History Channel, boring. Home Improvement Channel. Well, it could do with it. Arts and Literature Channel, you must be kidding. Ah. Adult Channel, now you’re talking. Oh.”
To access any channel, first insert your credit card in the slot and key in your PIN.
“Don’t look at me,” Theo said. “They cancelled all my cards when I lost all my money.”
“And I’m legally dead. Wonderful.” Max dropped the remote on the floor and collapsed on to the sofa. “No TV, no entertainments,