A Rift in Space and Crime by RE McLean (Multiverse Investigations Mysteries Book 2)
English | 2020 | Mystery & Thriller | ePUB | 2.7 MB
My name’s RE McLean and I’m the author of the Multiverse Investigations Unit books and stories.
Multiverse Investigators Alex and Mike have cracked their first case together.
But instead of arriving home, Mike finds himself lost in the multiverse.
Can he solve the case that will enable him to get back home? And how can Alex’s quantum cat Schrödinger help?
Alex Strand looked up at the man standing beside her. His mustache was so thick and bushy she was wondering if it hid an extra dimension.
She reached a hand up, longing to tug it.
“Stop that,” came Madonna’s voice from the bunch of flowers in Alex’s other hand. It was concealing a bitbox, a device used to communicate between worlds.
“Sorry,” hissed Alex. “This isn’t him. There’s just too much facial hair going on here. It’ll take years to work my way through them.”
The richly bearded man gave her a sniffy look and backed off. She felt the crowd around her shift and sway. Everywhere she looked there were men with unusual facial hair.
Beards the size of llamas. Mustaches you could use to clean a toilet. Sideburns so bushy she wondered if she’d landed in a shrubbery.
But none of them, as far as she could tell, was worn by Mike Long, her missing colleague from the Multiverse Investigations Unit.
Mike had failed to return with them when they’d jumped back to San Francisco from Silicon City, vanishing in the Spinner. He’d been gone for a week now and the team was worried.
They’d searched Silicon City high and low, which in a city whose vehicles glide through the air can take a while. Madonna and the Prof, leaders of the Multiverse Operations Organization in Silicon City, had put out feelers across the Hive. Everyone was on alert for signs of a man with bizarre facial hair.
When they’d discovered that there was a World’s Best Mustache competition planned in Greater Castro, it had been decided that Alex would risk traveling there to look for him. Greater Castro was a vibrant, colorful world in which the whole of San Francisco had been swallowed up by the gay village. Alex would have loved to stay here, knowing that there was a vast community of lesbians over the Bay in her home city of Oakland.
But there wasn’t time.
“He’s not here,” she muttered. “All these beards are too normal. Sure, there’s one that looks like my cat on a bad day, and another that looks a lot like the dead bird he brought in last week, but I’m not getting the scent.”
The scent: the smell of PVA glue that shrouded anyone who’d hopped between universes. Except for the guy with the stick-on handlebar mustache she’d deeply offended five minutes ago, she hadn’t caught a whiff of it.