“Help!” Misha Collins cried. “She’s falling apart!”
The Time Continuum Machine rattled and roared. Struts began to buckle. Chains shuddered from their gears and flapped dangerously. The engine that kept all the cosmos running became a buzz-saw of terror.
The Queen of England leaned into her wrench, tightening bolts, but two came loose for every one she handled. “This is the end,” the Queen Mother said. Misha had never known the Queen to be dire. He believed it was the end as well.
“If I had nine arms, I could fix this,” Misha said. He stabilized the quantum flux dismorgaphier with one foot and kept the vacuous air filter in place with his shin. “What I couldn’t do with nine arms,” he muttered to himself.
“Hey,” the Elopus said. “Can I help?”