History repeats itself. This is what I taught, and always believed. Then I met Sheridan, a man hitchhiking down the highway without a care in the world--a lonely figure who told me history, and the world, was ending. His evidence was the story of a mathematician who tried to prove the world didn't exist. It was a silly proposition. Nobody can prove the world doesn't exist. But as I became more convinced Sheridan was right, that the proof lay at the edge of reality, I could only wonder, where would we go?