Snippet THE LAST, PICKMAN’S MODELS.

ITTTTTTTTT’S DONNNNNNNNNNNE.

…

That meant that he was not close enough to stop Stampp from abruptly disengaging, and — running to Reithner, still on the slab. He didn’t hesitate, either; Stampp’s blade was menacing her throat before Tobias could close the distance. “Drop it!” he yelled at Tobias.

Tobias considered that, for a moment. “No,” he replied as he stopped advancing, “but I will keep my distance.”

“Not good enough. Drop the rifle, or she’s dead.”

“She’s not going to die either way,” Tobias noted. “She’s not here. You’re not here. I’m the only one here.”

Stampp stared at him. “The grenadiers’ memories were right. You are insane.”

“Probably,” conceded Tobias. “But, ah: how would you have known what the grenadiers thought of me? They all died at the hands of the real you before you could interrogate them.”

“Their corpses, we kept.” Stampp’s smile was merciless. “Including their brains. So many memories, still fresh and warm…”

His smile slipped as Tobias laughed. “Good recovery!” he told Stampp. “Nice spur-of-the-moment addition. You ate the brains, right? That’s the sort of thing that would gross me out, when I’m awake. But I know this is all in my mind, so it won’t.” The commander shook his head. “Look, you’re a part of me, so can we start working together and solve this problem? I have to get back up there, and get the real versions of you and your friends squared away. I know dreams are quick, but they’re not instant. I want this all done before my air tanks run out.”