This is what I have going through my mind at 78 RPM:

	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.....

	Pretty cool, huh?  It's today's mantra.  Om Mani Padme Hum.

	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.....

	It's TRUE.  I do.  Ulysses is always the hero, always comes out on
top, always has a solution for every problem.  That's why everyone loves
him.  And he'll find a way out of this problem, too.

	I'm pretty sure I'm in shock here.  It's hard to tell, seeing that
I'm talking from a weird detached part of my brain.  I usually scoot right
on up to that mental edge, but I think I went screaming over the side. 
Not sure.  All I know is that I don't feel very well.  Queasy and sort of
sick.  And cold.  And kind of light-headed.  Mostly numb, though.

	What are you supposed to do for victims of post-traumatic stress
syndrome?  I ought to know this.  According to the Encyclopedia that Is My
Brain, it's keep them warm and lying down.  Go first-aid class.

	I'm not lying down.  And I'm all cold.

	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.

	I woke up this morning in bed with Caitlin.  Not Anton.  Somehow
when I went to bed last night, I thought that none of it was really
happening, in a hazy drug-induced 'this is a bad, bad idea' sort of way. 
I guess it really did.  The general plan when I woke up was to go home and
beg and grovel to Anton not to kick my ass.  Because, hell, he had every
right to.

	I, of course, handled Caitlin in that delicate tact-filled way I
have of doing things.  I'm sure that she wants to kick my ass now too.

	So I went home.  Anton and Nadine were gone.  Taken by Abigail. 
The bitch.  Taken away from me, to a place where I couldn't see them or be
with them or talk to them or hold them.  And worse, she was using them as
bait.  They were good, effective bait.

	Trying to get them back, I lost Caitlin first.  Through a Trump
contact.  Eddie came and opened a Trump gate for me, but it was a trap,
and an obvious one.  But you never know, and I had no choice.  I went and
got Ulysses, breakfast and all.  I figured Ulysses because:

	a) Ulysses can do anything
	b) Ulysses always knows what to do
	c) I have a better chance of groveling to him later than anyone else.

	So I got him.  And explained in 30 words or less what was going
on.  We went through the Trump gate.  And after that, I remember nothing.

	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.

	Now we're here.  They tell me that 125 years have past.  They tell
me that Nadine is all grown up, and raised by Melanie.  She's very pretty. 
They tell me Anton is long dead.  Melanie is not the person I once knew
and loved.

	I don't want to be here.  I hate it here.  I want to go home.

	See, I have faith in Ulysses, because he always wins.  In the
years I've known him, he's always come out on top.  And he wants to go
home too.  He has a family that he loves, and wants to see again. 
Archimedes has a family.  And me, and mine, what's left of it.

	See, Ulysses HAS to get us home.  Anton and I are going up to the
cottage this weekend.  I originally bought the cottage as a tax write-off,
but now it's a really good spot to go and relax.  Really good primo
ocean-front property.  And we just bought the boat.  Nadine has her water
noodle - as long as she doesn't try to eat it again.  The water noodle is
NOT edible.  We'll go up there, and laugh, and recover from this week, and
go back to being a geeky family.

	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.
	I have great faith in Ulysses finding us a way home.

	See, in this time line, Anton is dead and gone.  I love him.  I
can't live without him.  It's hard to understand, but I love him so very
much.  I would far rather be dead then be alone out here.  And Nadine is
gone.  My little girl is gone.  There is this woman, she CLAIMS she's my
daughter.  But my daughter is a little girl with pigtails who digs Grover,
and likes to color, and makes a mess out of her dinner.  Not her.  This
other woman is that other Melanie's daughter.

	Melanie isn't even the same person I left behind.  There's this
awful, domineering THING walking around, controlling all the
communications.  That's not my sister.  My sister is someone else.  My
sister is gone, too.

	I've lost my work.  My home.  My Pattern.  My life.  My daughter. 
And I can't have any of it back.  I can't live here.  My mom and dad, my
brother, my lover, all dead, all people I love and want to be with so
badly.  I'd rather be dead and with them then be here and some zombie.

	I never got to say good-bye.  I don't want to have to.  I want to
go home.

	I just sit here and shiver and pray that Ulysses finds a way home. 
Because, to be perfectly honest, I don't think he can.