“I
had to save Varus. He’s. . . important.”
I
guessed he was. For all I knew, he may
be a direct ancestor of mine and I couldn’t let him get killed now. Who knew what kind of paradox I’d create
then. A “great, great, great times one
hundred grandfather paradox,” or maybe I’d just wink out of existence. The universe might implode for all I
knew. Or maybe I’d prove that
grandfather paradoxes are nothing but shit science.
(from The Last
Roman, by Edward Crichton)
5½*/10. The full review is here.
.
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