"I mentioned earlier about this being an infinite universe. There must be more than just the world you live in and the world I live in. Think it over—millions of everybody making decisions all the time, following one path and discarding another—there must be millions of worlds! An infinite number of them!"
Chuck drained his glass and went back to the cabinet to help himself.
"It's not just a theory," Charles insisted. "I know there's more than just our two worlds. I've seen a couple of them. I could even take you to them. And every time anyone makes a decision, new ones spring into existence. Do you follow me?"
"I guess so," Chuck said. "As much as anyone can follow a thing like that."
"I'm still not finished—"
"Hold it," Chuck cut in abruptly. "Before we get tangled up any further, what am I doing here?"
"I had to tell someone," Charles said. "I couldn't keep a thing like this to myself, yet who could I tell? I thought it over and said nothing to anyone in this world, because it suddenly occurred to me that the best person to confide in was one of my hundreds of selves."
"Quit it," Chuck begged. "You'll drive me nuts—you and your hundreds of selves!"
"You're one of them," Charles reminded him. "The others all exist somewhere. I just happened to reach you by accident. When I started down Hobson's Hill, I didn't know which Charles Mead would be in the town. After all, I've made dozens of big decisions in the past few years. There must be plenty of other Charles Meads in existence."