PROFESSION

 

by Mike Truman
beta-read by Jayelle Carey
 

"What do you think?"

Logan held a black T-shirt in front of her, a neon 'Hard Rock Café – San Franciso' logo emblazoned across the chest. Wade laughed, and not just because the shirt was two sizes too large or because San Francisco was misspelled — though it probably didn't hurt the cause.

"You're a decade too late," Wade said. "These stopped being cool when I was in high school."

"Maybe where you're from, but Hard Rock is huge back home. They serve real coffee. Wait lines are out the door."

"Where aren't wait lines out the door?"

The two were killing time at a street vendor downtown, one of many enterprises dotting the sidewalks of San Francisco. The merchandise was cheap, plentiful, and of dubious authenticity. The vendor was a stubbled young guy in jeans, jacket, and 49ers cap. He noticed Logan's interest and went to work. "Bet you I can make you a good deal, better than anyone else in a ten block radius. How's twelve dollars sound?"

Logan didn't blink. "Three dollars."

"Three dollars? I'd like to, honey, but that's below my cost," the vendor protested. "I can do ten."

"Three fifty."

"You're killing me here, lady. Tell you what. I'll sell to you for what I paid. Cause you're pretty," he smiled. "Eight bucks."

Logan pretended to ponder the offer before countering with her original offer of three dollars.

"Come on," Wade said, taking the shirt from Logan and returning it to the vendor. "Since when do shoplifters haggle?"

Logan shrugged. "I could have come back later and paid."

Across the street, Arturo examined a watch, the most recent in a long list of watches. Rembrandt gave the watch vendor a sympathetic shake of the head. "Just pick one, Professor," he said. "We've been standing out here for a half hour."

"Mr. Brown, a watch is not just a timepiece." Arturo placed the watch on his wrist and tested it for comfort. "Like any piece of jewelry, it speaks for its wearer. I will not wear something that looks like it came out of a child's Happy Meal. Until I am completely reduced to beggary, I will retain my right to choose."

Rembrandt grabbed one of the discarded 'Rollexes.' "You do know these are fakes?"

Arturo gave him a dismissive wave as he selected another watch. Rembrandt sighed and walked over to the bus stop bench where Maggie was stretching out. "He done yet?" she asked as he took a seat beside her.

"He hasn't even picked one out. The negotiations are still to come."

"Street hustlers," she nodded. "Kind of reminds me of DC."

"As in Washington?"

"Is there another?"

Rembrandt shrugged. "Maybe on your world there is."

"Yes, it's Washington, the capital of Oklahoma." She waited for Rembrandt's reaction. "Kidding."

"Between your world, Logan's world, mine and Wade's, and the Professor's, it's a miracle we all speak English."

"Well Logan tries."

Rembrandt chuckled. "Do I detect the sound of playful acceptance?"

Maggie gave him a look. "No, that's the sound of overt hostility."

"You can't keep treating her like a leper or she'll never try to reach out," Rembrandt said. "We didn't give up on you."

"I was not as bad as Logan."

Rembrandt looked up, pretending to be oblivious. Maggie punched him in the arm, immediately causing him to crack up. "I was not!" Maggie protested.

Unknown to them, two Ford Expeditions had made a lap around the block and were heading back their way. Only the screeching of tires caught their attention. The two vehicles pulled up to the sidewalk, armed men spilling out their doors. The men were dressed in dark clothes and their faces were concealed by masks. They wasted no time in heading for their target.

"I say, what the devil!" Arturo yelled as two of the men grabbed him. The vendor ducked under his table as watches flew everywhere from Arturo's flailing arms.

"Hey!" Maggie yelled, leaping over the bench. She stopped short when a third man leveled his weapon at her chest. His associates succeeded in dragging the struggling professor off the sidewalk and into the back of the lead Expedition. The gunman and a fourth man jumped into the second vehicle. The autos were back in traffic before the last door shut.

******
What if there were alternate realities of Earth? Same planet, different dimension.
A world where the internet is a way of life?
Or where the Russians rule America?
Or where your worst enemy is your own self?
Worlds where your dreams can come true, or your nightmares can haunt you...
These places do exist. My friends and I have found the gateway to reach them!
Now the only problem is... finding a way back home....

Sliders - Infinite Slides
Based on the TV series 'Sliders'
Created by Tracy Tormé and Robert K. Weiss
*******

From their vantage across the street, Wade and Logan counted eight people involved in the operation. Four men — or women, they couldn't tell — had gone out of the vehicles for Arturo. Two others had entered the street to prevent traffic from blocking them in. The drivers stayed at their wheels.

"They're taking Max," Logan said, stating the obvious. There was no time for them to do anything, and even if there were, what could they have done? It was only after the SUVs pulled away that Wade's eye noticed the taxi idling beside them. On instinct, she leapt into the back seat.

"Follow those two SUVs!" she shouted to the stunned driver as the kidnappers screeched down the street.

"What—"

"Go! Go! Go!" Logan yelled, sliding in beside Wade. The driver was too taken aback to argue. He flipped his meter on and swung a U-turn in pursuit.

-----

Rembrandt looked up and down the street for Wade and Logan, but they'd disappeared too. "Damn, where'd they go?"

"Worry about those two later. We need to get help," Maggie said, grabbing him by the arm. "Police help."

The two scanned up and down the street for an officer. About a block away, Rembrandt spied something. "There! Near that hot dog stand. That could be an officer." The two ran down the crowded sidewalk, dodging pedestrians. Rembrandt's eye was true. A middle-aged beat cop was enjoying a lunch of a chili dog by the stand.

"Officer, our friend was just abducted!" Maggie breathlessly announced. "Right off the sidewalk!"

The cop placed his lunch on the stand and tried to steady her. "Whoa, whoa. A little slower, please."

"It was just a minute ago," Rembrandt said. "He was buying a watch and these men just yanked him into their car."

The cop pulled out his radio. "Go on."

"There were two vehicles," Maggie said. "Big SUVs, either dark green or black. These masked men just poured out and went for him. I tried to jump in, but they were all armed."

"Armed, you say," the cop said as he replaced his radio in his belt clip.

"Yeah, maybe semi-automatics. I didn't get a long enough look at them to guess at the make. They took off in this direction," she said as the officer went back to eating his lunch, "and you don't seem to care."

"It's a terrible thing," the officer said. "These men are just getting bolder and bolder. But what can you do?"

"You could start by putting down that chili dog and calling for backup," Rembrandt said.

The officer gave the two a soft look. "I understand your concern and I know you are angry and confused right now, but there is no reason to be alarmed. From what you've described, this was a professional job and the agencies play it by the book."

"What the hell are you talking about? Agencies?" Rembrandt asked.

"It's a dirty business, but it is business," the officer said gently. "What you need to do now is to go home and await instructions. They'll walk you through the entire procedure. If you want, you can stop by the precinct and pick up a pamphlet. The SFPD has put together a comprehensive guidebook—"

"A pamphlet?" Maggie exclaimed. "This is a kidnapping. It is a crime, right?"

"It's a gray area," the officer hedged.

"Let me be sure I follow," Rembrandt said, pissed off at the lack of cooperation on the officer's part. "You're telling us that a man gets snatched off the street in broad daylight, and there's nothing you can do."

The officer placed his hand - the one not holding his lunch - on Rembrandt's shoulder. "Just go home and wait for the call. That's honestly the best advice I can give you. Your friend will be fine, just so long as no one tries to be a hero."

Rembrandt and Maggie shared a glance. Just where were Wade and Logan?

-----

"Left! Left!" Logan screamed into the frazzled cab driver's ear. The cab swerved in front of oncoming traffic to keep pace with Arturo and his abductors.

"You know, this chase won't mean anything if we all end up dead," the cabbie said.

"Just stay on them. I'll make it worth your while," Logan said, shooting Wade a sideways glance. Wade cringed.

"All right, but if they start heading downhill, I'm pulling over," the white-knuckled cab driver declared. "I am not remaking 'The Dead Pool.'"

The SUVs continued maneuvering through the streets of San Francisco, trying to stay in motion. They hadn’t made any extreme moves, apparently unwilling to draw unnecessary attention. This caution had allowed the taxi to stay close.

"Not too close," Logan barked.

"How else am I supposed to follow them?"

"Yeah, but we don't want them to know we're following them."

The cabbie turned his head to face Logan. "And why's that?"

Logan's eyes went wide as one of the men in the SUVs leaned out of his window, weapon raised. She pointed past the cabbie toward the gunman. "That's why!"

The gunman opened fire, spraying the pavement between them with bullets. "Jesus!" the taxi driver yelled, swerving the car to the right and slamming on the brakes. Successful, the gunman retreated back into his seat as the vehicle pulled away.

"That's it! I'm done!" the cab driver exclaimed.

"No! Stay on them!" Logan shouted back.

"They're trying to kill you! That means they're trying to kill me! No fare's worth that," he said, pointing them to the door.

Wade poked her head into the conversation. "Look, if they wanted us dead, we'd be dead. He fired wide on purpose. We just need to keep some distance." The cabbie hesitated. "Please?" Wade implored.

He thought it over for a moment. "I've got an idea," he said, pulling the car back into traffic and taking a hard right.

"Where are you going?" Logan asked. "They went straight."

"Listen, sweetheart. They're heading into a rush hour traffic snarl. If they don't want to get tied down, they're going to have to end up going south on Van Ness. By the time they reach Hayes, we'll be waiting for them."

The two women weren't entirely convinced. "Look, who's the cab driver here? I know this city," he said with a wink. "Trust me."

-----

Arturo shuddered as the shots rang out behind him. He couldn't see what was happening as he'd been bound and blindfolded once he was secured in the vehicle. He did know that he was in the back seat of a sport utility vehicle, with two men seated on either side of him. In case he had any ideas of learning more, the piece pressed against his side was encouragement not to move.

"They're backing off," said the man to his left. The voice sounded young, young enough to be a student of his.

"Might not have been anything," said another voice. "Best to play it safe though." This was the man in the passenger seat, the man who had told him to remain calm as he was being tied up. Arturo surmised that this was the leader of this unit, or at least of this vehicle.

"Comfortable back there?" the leader asked.

"Oh yes," Arturo mocked. "There's room enough for seven, just like the commercial says." He felt the barrel of the piece in his side pressed harder against him. "Look, there's no need for violence. Whatever this is, it is clearly a misunderstanding—"

"Gag him?" the man to his left interrupted.

"Please," came the reply from the front.

"No! Wait! You're making a mfmmf ffmmmf..." Arturo fought against the gag by thrashing his head about, but proved unsuccessful. Quietly he simmered in the Expedition's backseat.

"Here is our itinerary, Mr. Arturo," the leader said. "We will deliver you to our home office where you will be held until such arrangements can be made for your release. The length of your stay will depend upon the willingness of your loved ones to cooperate. If terms can be reached, you may only be inconvenienced a few days."

"A phoo daish?!" Arturo exclaimed through his gag.

"You're in good hands, Mr. Arturo. We are the top agency of the Bay area and will do all we can to make your stay as pleasant as possible," the leader said.

"Hmmph," Arturo grumbled. All this, and he didn't even have the watch to show for it.

-----

The taxi cab slipped its way through the side streets of San Francisco, heading toward what its occupants hoped would be a rendezvous with Arturo's captors. Wade kept looking out her window, checking for a glimpse of them whenever they crossed an intersection. She didn't like the cabbie's plan of guessing their movement. That said, she wasn't fond of dodging gunfire either.

Logan remained upright, peering over the passenger seat where she could keep a good look at where they were going. Basically, it gave her the sense that she was in control of the situation.

"Seeing as I'm risking my life and auto for you, I don't suppose you'd mind telling me why we're chasing these guys?" the cabbie asked.

"It's probably best you don't know," Logan said.

"Maybe so, but any information you give me may help when the time comes."

Logan looked over to Wade. Wade mulled it over for a second and then gave her a slight nod. Logan raised an eyebrow to be sure Wade was on board. The cabbie could see this through his mirror. "You guys got some secret code or something?"

Logan turned back to him. "They've taken something we want, and we want it back. Is that enough?"

The cabbie nodded. "No offense, ladies, but I can't see what you have that they'd possibly want."

"They took our friend," Wade blurted out, hoping to just end this conversation. No luck. The cabbie was a chatty type of guy.

"I see! Kidnap for ransom. Nasty business. Gotta lot of that going down these days. But hey, people gotta eat," he said.

"People gotta eat?" Wade repeated.

"It's the economy, know what I'm saying? Rich get richer. Poor get poorer. You can't fault these cottage industries springing up to level the playing field," he said, turning onto Hayes.

"You're legitimizing it? It's criminal!"

"What's criminal is what they charge me for health care." The can driver pulled up into a drive-through lane at a Bank of America branch.

"We're going to wait for them here?" Logan asked.

"Something like that." In a move faster than Logan thought possible, the cabbie pulled a pistol from under his seat and leveled it at her. "I'll be needing your bankcards now. Just be cool and this will all go smooth."

The two women raised their hands.

"It's like I said," the cabbie said. "A man's gotta eat."

-----

Rembrandt sat on the edge of the hotel bed, his eyes focused on the telephone on the nightstand. He and Maggie were doing as the police officer told them — go home and wait for the call. They also hadn't heard from Wade or Logan either. Rembrandt considered himself a patient man, but he felt like he was going out of his mind.

Maggie sat at the side table, leafing through the pamphlet they'd been given at the police station — "So Your Loved One(s) Has Been Abducted," a walkthrough for first time victims. "'The good news is that ninety percent of all abductees are returned, many of which are no worse for the inconvenience,'" she read. "Wow. They make it out as so routine. Like getting a filling at the dentist."

"Yeah, I've seen some crazy stuff in my travels, but this world is a brand new category. This sort of thing doesn't happen in America. At least outside of cable TV," Rembrandt said.

"Back on my world, we had a situation where some fifty Americans were taken hostage in Lebanon. If Oliver North hadn't heroically traded arms to rescue them, they might have all been killed," Maggie said.

"Didn't your world end up blown to kingdom come?"

"That wasn't OUR fault," Maggie snapped back.

Rembrandt shook his head. "Sorry. I didn't mean it. It's just the tension talking, I guess."

"Remmy, we've been through worse. If the talks don't work out, we'll rescue him the old-fashioned way," Maggie said.

"That's supposed to relieve my tension?"

Both their heads turned to the door at the sound of the knob turning. Logan and Wade entered, looking exhausted. "What happened to you two?" Maggie asked.

"We got mugged!" Logan said cheerfully. "By our own cab driver."

"And this doesn't upset you because..."

Logan smiled. "We weren't carrying any money! We were planning to stiff him on the fare, but then he double crossed us by holding us up, so we triple crossed--"

"I get the picture," Maggie said, watching Wade collapse on the bed. "And he just let you walk away? He wasn't worried about you turning him in to the cops?"

"I got the distinct impression that cops don't worry anyone much here," Logan said.

"He just tossed us out," Wade said. "We had to walk all the way back here. Any word on the Professor?"

"We've got some bad news," Rembrandt began delicately.

"Yeah, abducted, we know, we were following them in the cab," Logan said.

"Did you see where they took him?" Maggie asked.

"Umm... mugging?" Logan reminded, dropping into a chair. "So, no news?"

"Not yet," Rembrandt said. "It's like you said — the cops don't seem too interested in getting involved."

"They think Arturo got marked as a tourist on business or vacation by these guys," Maggie said. "It's pretty common for foreigners to get nabbed and then ransomed off."

"Yeah, but not just any foreigners, right? What's the point in grabbing someone shopping for fake Rolexes? He wouldn't have anything," Wade pointed out. "Is there a premium on British citizens?"

"She's right," Logan said. "That was a professional job. They knew exactly whom they wanted. We only arrived ten hours ago and we've spent most of that time in this hotel. They couldn't possibly know much about him."

"Hotel clerk?" Maggie asked, never liking that Gomez Calhoun character. "He could have tipped them off when we got in."

"Why? We practically paid for the night using loose change we scrounged together."

"Well, you got me then," Maggie said, throwing her hands up. "The only other option is that they've been scouting someone else--"

She didn't need to finish her sentence. The other three immediately caught on. What if the kidnappers had grabbed the wrong Arturo?

-----

On a lavish end table, an antique phone rang. The gloved hand of a butler picked up. "Arturo residence... just one moment."

The butler walked down a wide hall decorated with artwork by Van Gogh, Gaugin, and a large artist rendition of two colliding galaxies. He knocked on a door and a female voice bade him enter the sitting room.

"Madame, telephone for you. It involves the monsieur," he said. The lady of the house reached for a portable phone and turned it on.

"Yes?" The butler watched Christina Fox-Arturo's face turned ashen.

-----

Arturo no longer had much of an idea as to where he was when the sport utility vehicle came to its final stop. He suspected they'd zigzagged about the city to throw him off, but it wasn't necessary. Being blindfolded was disorienting enough. He'd given up on tracking the turns almost immediately and devoted the whole of his concentration to what he would say once this damned gag was removed — that is, if it was removed.

"We'll have you exit to your right," the leader said. "Sit still and we'll have your legs freed."

A click was heard and the cuffs dropped from his ankles. A hand on his shoulder helped him slide out of his seat.

"I will ask that you please not run, as doing so blindfolded could lead to serious injury. I repeat we intend you no harm at this time and you can trust us to lead you safely to where you will be quartered."

'At this time,' Arturo noted.

With one man at each arm, they walked him down a stretch of corridors. "Approaching stairs," the leader said. "Ten steps up." Up they went. "Turn left". A few steps to the left. "Left again and up ten steps." The staircase was cleared. On they went with the leader giving Arturo a heads up for any obstacles. Again, he couldn't be sure if they were walking him around in circles or if their home office was truly a labyrinth. He'd been inside the home offices of major corporations — rats' nests of cubicles and staircases. God help him if this passed for big business on this world.

After ten minutes of this, they reached their destination. He could smell cleaning fluids. They may be kidnappers, but at least they were civilized.

"Removing blindfold." The cotton dropped away giving Arturo his first glimpse of his surroundings. The light was bright enough to cause his dilated pupils to react, but the sensation went away quickly. His first impression was that of a cell, or perhaps a student dormitory. The room was approximately one hundred twenty square feet with three walls of cinder. At some point there may have been windows, but they'd since been covered over. The overhead light illuminated a twin-sized bed, a stand, a sink, and a toilet. The bed was made up with blanket and pillow; the stand boasted a handful of books. The fourth wall was simply bars.

He also got his first good look at his abductors, or at least three of them. They had removed their masks. The men to his right and left he presumed were the same men who had sat with him in the car. They were both fairly young, certainly no older than mid-twenties. That left the third man as the voice from the passenger seat. He was slightly older, but it was difficult to tell from his face. He was somewhat gaunt, his dirty blond hair cut short. His thin goatee may have been a sign of youth or just difficulty to grow facial hair. Possibly thirty, but anywhere within a ten year range wouldn't have shocked him.

"Meals will be delivered periodically," he said. "The sink and toilet are functional and I would ask that you please not disassemble them. Any flooding or inconvenience you create, you will need to endure.

"You can remove the gag." Arturo licked his lips after the gag was removed, trying to abate the taste of fabric.

"Very good, we'll return once negotiations are complete," the blond said.

"No, wait! You have made a mistake," Arturo began. "I am but a visitor to your city, barely more than a vagabond. I have no money. Nor do my friends."

"Mr. Arturo, please. Your protests are not only futile, but false. Don't do the disservice of lying to us."

"Me do you a disservice?" This was simply too much. "You abducted me off the street, had me bound and gagged, and you feel I do you an injury?"

"Professor--"

"Look, listen to me. Why would a man of my supposed stature be shopping for discount watches?"

"You're cheap," shrugged one of the henchmen.

"Call him," Arturo implored. "Call him up at his office, his home, wherever you have been stalking him. When he answers, you will know you have the wrong man."

"The call has already been placed," the leader said. "If what you say is true, and we have made a mistake, then perhaps we'll reconsider."

Arturo was a bit relieved at this. "But know this," the leader said. "You're worth something to somebody, and we need to cover costs. Further, it won't do for us to just let you walk out of here without some compensation. We've got goals to reach."

With that, he moved in closer to Arturo. Just as they were eye to eye, he pulled out a key and unlocked Arturo's handcuffs. "We'll have a guard posted outside if you need anything, and to discourage any escape attempts. If you try anything, we will use unpleasant force. In the meantime, sit tight, read a book, and wait until we come for you."

He and the two guards exited, closing the iron door behind them. "Good day, Mr. Arturo."

Good day, indeed.

-----

Wade leaned up against the wall to catch her breath and rest her legs. She'd been going nonstop now for hours. Once they realized that the wrong Arturo might have been snatched, they needed to locate this world's Arturo before he blew their chance at negotiation. The trouble was, Arturo2 wasn't listed anywhere. First she and Maggie needed to hike to a computer with internet access. Once on-line, Wade was able to affirm that Arturo2 was a professor at the University of California, and with a little bit of digital breaking and entering, was able to secure his home address. Too bad the address was on the other side of town. With taxis definitely out and no trolley or bus service to his neighborhood, they were back on foot.

"Why didn't we just call him?" Wade said.

"Because our story is crazy enough as it is. Our best bet is to talk our way into his house if we're going to get a shot at telling him our story," Maggie said, seemingly unfazed from all their hiking. They were now in Cathedral Oaks, an exclusive area of San Francisco filled with extravagant — and gated — homes. "We're almost there. Just a few more houses."

"Just a few more houses could be miles," Wade protested.

"Want me to go ahead without you?"

"No." Wade sucked in some air and continued along. The two trudged another half-mile before arriving at the Arturo estate. Either cosmology paid a lot better in this world or the professor had found himself some additional sources of income. From the gate, they could see the sprawling home (by San Francisco standards) built in the Mediterranean/Spanish fashion.

"Who built this? Francisco himself?" Maggie asked.

"So what now? Just march on in and ask if they've got any ransom calls for us?" Wade asked.

"Essentially... yes." Maggie buzzed the intercom.

-----

All it took to get inside was to claim they were witnesses to the abduction and were willing to tell everything.  Both women got the impression they were underdressed as they were led through the Arturo home to the same sitting room where Mrs. Arturo had heard the bad news. When they arrived, she was no longer alone. The monsieur had returned.

"A Miss Beckett and Miss Welles," the butler introduced as they were welcomed into the room. Arturo2 and his wife sat on the couch, the latter still visibly shaken by the scare she had received earlier in the day.  Wade thought she recognized her as Arturo's first wife, the one who had died on their world. This version of her was more matronly, but still attractive. She had the look of a woman who had access to the finer things in life and enjoyed them. So did her husband. The professor was dressed in a fine suit, the jacket now draped over a chair. He looked very much like their own Arturo, except a tad less weathered and slightly heavier. He stood up upon their entering.

"Welcome. I hear you were witnesses to my abduction today," he said, hands behind his back, and sarcasm at full throttle. "How did it go?"

"Pretty good, I guess. High style points, no one injured, just one flaw," Maggie said. "They got the wrong man."

"Evidently," Arturo2 answered, his hand gesturing to a sofa opposite him. The two women took a seat.

"We were on Fillmore around noon, just checking out the vendors. These two sport utility vehicles loaded with armed men hopped out and grabbed our friend. We couldn't understand why at first," Maggie continued. "Then we saw a photo of you."

"You're a dead ringer," Wade added. "You could almost be his twin brother."

"Really, and where did you see this photo of me?"

"All over the news," Maggie said. "You must be a man of some importance around here."

Play to his ego, they both thought.

"After we saw the news, we put two and two together," Wade said. "They'd mistaken our friend for you. That's why we haven't gotten a ransom call."

Maggie leaned toward the Arturos. "I'm guessing that call came here."

"It did," Christina said. "Scared the heck out of me. They told me that Max was in their custody and that if I wanted to see him again, I'd stay calm and await further instruction. Calm? Of course I panicked. I called Max's office just to be sure. Thank God he was there."

"I often dine on Fillmore. If they'd been staking the area out, that could explain the confusion," Arturo2 replied, sizing up the two strangers in his home. "Until your arrival, I considered the matter a hoax meant to unsettle my family. These are very dangerous times in America. A man of any stature cannot leave his home without an armed escort."

"So we're learning," Maggie said.

"I'm curious," Arturo2 said. "Did the university give you my home address?"

"Not exactly. I have to admit to a little crime. I hacked their database for your address," Wade said. "I'm very sorry, but we had no time to lose."

"Very resourceful."

"Right now, we need you to do us a huge favor."

Arturo2 waited expectantly. "When the abductors call back," Maggie began, "we need you to tell them they have the wrong man."

"Once they hear your voice, they'll know something is wrong," Wade added. "By now I'm sure our friend has been protesting that he isn't you. Maybe they'll just let him go."

Arturo2 stroked his beard. "I'm afraid that's not likely to happen. Voices can be imitated. If he is as like me as you say, they may not part with him so easily."

"Well, could you tell them to redirect their calls to our hotel? We'll deal with them ourselves," Wade pleaded.

"It's the same problem. Why would they negotiate with you, people they don't know, when they want to negotiate with my wife? They won't go for it."

"Then what do we do? How do we convince them he's not you?" Maggie pressed.

"I have no idea," he shrugged. "And frankly, it is not my problem."

"They abducted our friend because of you," Wade protested. "Don't you feel any obligation?"

"You expect me to apologize for my success? To take responsibility for others' errors? I've been told I bear a likeness to Luciano Pavarotti, but if men were to abduct me thinking I were him, would Pavarotti owe me anything? I think not." Arturo2 folded his hands. "I am sorry that this calamity has befallen you. Truly, I am. But I do not wish to further involve myself or my family in this affair. I suggest you contact the authorities. Perhaps this unusual situation may actually spur them into action. Now, if you'll excuse us--"

"Wait," Maggie said. Arturo2, who had been getting up to show them the door, sat back down. "We haven't been completely up front about the problem."

He didn't respond, but she could tell he was interested, so she continued. "You're a man at the top of his field, how would you like to become a legend? We possess certain proof that could make you the most famous theorist since Einstein. You wanna know the real reason those abductors thought our friend was you?"

Even no-nonsense Maggie wasn't immune to a little dramatic pause for effect. "It's because he is you."

-----

The television was on in the hotel room, and an excited pitchman was just about bursting at the seams.

"Michael, we all hear about our movie stars and politicians being snatched on the news, but people like you and me are just as much in jeopardy!"

"Oh no!" his straight man replied.

"Yes, that's why today on Amazing Bargains, I'm offering the complete personal protection kit! Never worry about leaving your home again!"

"Sounds great, Charlie! What do I get?"

"Michael, you get this high-pitched whistle, guaranteed to be heard within an eight block radius--"

Charlie let loose on the whistle, wounding the ears of Michael, the studio audience, and conceivably everyone else within an eight block radius.

"You also get this concentrated pepper spray," Charlie raved.

"Concentrated?" Michael asked.

"It incapacitates an attacker completely for up to thirty minutes, Mike. Observe!"

Charlie maced Michael. "Oh god! It burns!" Michael howled, before dropping to the floor unconscious.

"But that's not all!" Charlie said, turning to the studio audience. "For the ultimate in personal protection, you also receive this Ingram Mac-10. With its light weight and rapid-fire capability, you won't find a better method of deterrence. Best of all, anyone can wield it!"

The pitchman proceeded to open fire on the floor, spraying bullets throughout the studio. Terrified audience members dove for cover and the exits. "And you get it all for just $49.95!"

"Can you imagine anybody actually buying this?" Rembrandt said, shaking his head in disbelief and turning away from the television to glance over at Logan.  She had the phone in her hand and was punching in a number.  His gaze darted back to the screen which was now flashing the number to order in bold, red print.  "Girl, you aren't even--"
 
"Pfft no," she scoffed.  "I was considering getting take-out.  You like Chinese, right?"

Rembrandt leapt from the bed and grabbed the phone from Logan, replacing it in its cradle.

"Guess not," Logan said.

"We are waiting for a phone call! You can't be ordering out."

"We haven't eaten all day. Starving won't save Max."

"Then go to the lobby and use their phone," Rembrandt said, dropping back onto the bed.

"This is boring. I should have gone with Maggie," Logan said, returning to her seat by the table. "I can hack, you know. I'm a good hacker. Why should Wade be allowed to do all the hacking?"

"Could you please?" Rembrandt said. "I'm watching this."

Actually he wasn't. He tried to watch the television to pass the time, but he wasn't in to it. 'They're not going to call,' he thought. The tourist angle was good, but the Arturo double made more sense. If the prof had hit the big time, he'd be a target, especially in an America like this.

Logan, now leafing through the abduction pamphlet out of boredom, could tell that Rembrandt was taking Arturo's abduction badly. "You can relax a bit. This kind of thing happens all the time back home. You pay the money, you make the exchange, and then you hunt and kill everyone involved. And you get your money back!"

"If everyone ends up dead, why do they keep doing it?"

"Desperation, I guess. Your ordinary citizen doesn't have much going for her. Probably a little envy mixed in too."

Rembrandt agreed. He saw how the well-to-do lived in his all too brief stay on Logan's world. Nothing had changed for them. They just kept consuming as usual because they could afford the cost. Everyone else had to go without.

"That strike you as fair?" The question had more to do with his own train of thought, but Logan couldn't know that.

"Fair enough," she said. "Those who succeed get the rewards."

"You still believe that?"

"You believe it too. I know enough of your worlds to know mine wasn't any different. We just had more losers," she said, adding, "cause we had more people."

"So by your reckoning, success is success no matter how you come by it, even ransom," Rembrandt said.

"Well no, but then again, you do have to admire their tenacity. Given the consequences of failure, it's a risky play. But you don't get anywhere without taking risks."

"You know, remind me to never have another philosophical discussion with you again."

"I just tell it like it is. Not my fault none of you can handle it," she smirked. Logan continued to flip through the kidnapping manual. "Hey, did you know that being abducted is a status symbol?"

"Say what?"

"'Gaining the attention of the abduction agencies is a sign you've arrived. Julia Roberts, Brad Pitt, and Courtney Cox are just a few of the many celebrities snatched in the past year. Jennifer Lopez has been taken no less than eight times,'" she read.

"Great," Rembrandt said. "I'm sure the professor will be pleased."

-----

The professor was not pleased.

Once again a seemingly innocuous slide had gone completely awry through no machinations of his own. Perhaps he could have been more careful, spent more time researching this world than shopping, but for God's sake, they'd just arrived late the night before. The first order of business had been to replace clothing and accessories — and a watch is an important accessory for someone who literally lived by the clock.

It was too late for recriminations. His hopes now lay with his fellow sliders and possibly the mercy of his double's family. He shuddered at that thought. As for himself, he had greater problems. He needed to use the toilet. He eyed the guard left behind who was seated a few feet away outside his cell. This was the same man, boy really, who had been by his side during his SUV ride. Currently he was reading a sports magazine, but at any moment he could look up. This abduction was outrage enough. Arturo would have his privacy.

"Excuse me," he said, waving his hand through the bars to get his guard's attention. The guard looked up. "I need to use the facilities."

"Be my guest," he said, returning to his magazine.

"What I mean is, would it be possible for you to step away for five minutes while I... hmmm...?"

"I can't leave my post. I'll keep my head down if it will make you feel better."

"No, it will not make me feel better," Arturo said. "Up to this point, I have not troubled you. I have allowed you to read your magazine in peace. But if you will not grant me this small consideration, I may find myself compelled to indulge in my love of theater. I'm British, you realize, and there is nothing the British love more than a good Gilbert and Sullivan production. I believe I shall begin with the Pirates of Penzance, not the first in chronological order, I admit, but fear not, we'll get through them all in due time."

Arturo began to sing. "Pour, O pour the pirate sherry; Fill, O fill the pirate glass; And to make--"

"I could just gag you again."

"Please."

The guard shook his head, but he put his magazine down and stood. "You have five minutes."

"Better make it ten," Arturo said, heading for the toilet paper.

-----

When the guard returned, he found his ward seated on his bed examining his reading material. These were not dime store novels. On top of the stack was Howard Zinn's People's History of the United States, followed by the Collected Writings of Thomas Paine, Daniel Quinn's Ishmael, and a small book Arturo had not heard of called The New Inequality. "Wonderful. I've been abducted by would-be revolutionaries," he said.

"It's not often we get a professor in here," the guard said. "What do you teach?"

"I don't teach. That would be the Arturo fellow you have me confused with," Arturo said. He held up the copy of the New Inequality so the guard could see it. "And you, you are a latter day Robin Hood?"

"No," he chuckled. "I'm just trying to pay the bills."

"So you've turned to crime."

"It's not crime," he said defensively. "This company conforms to every standard in the industry--"

"This criminal industry," Arturo finished. "Look, I don't expect you to understand, but where I come from, abductions are against the law."

"So's price fixing. Bribery. Embezzlement. But it still happens. It happens right in the open. Every one knows it's going on and no one does anything. The screws are put to regular people every day, but because we don't have much, nobody does anything to help us. So we've started our own industries. I call it payback."

"And who, exactly, do you think is at the head of these industries?" Arturo replied. "Shareholders? Don't you see? The same people you grab off the streets are the very masters you serve."

"It's like that everywhere. I'd rather be pulling a hot shot out of his limo then doing a so-called respectable job like claims paying. At least I know the people I'm hurting can take it," the guard said. "You think we're rough? Try crossing Geico."

He walked away from Arturo's cell, leaving the professor to ponder just how cutthroat this society must truly be.

-----

"And that's the short of it," Wade said, completing the abbreviated introduction to sliding. The Arturos had listened to this story of parallel adventures with rapt attention. Now that it was over, they were at a loss for words. "You're really not from this planet," Mrs. Arturo ventured.

"Really not. The two of us aren't even from the same planet," Wade said.

"Technically, that's not true," Arturo2 said. "It's always the same planet, merely a different universe."

"So you understand what we're saying," Maggie said.

"Understand it? I practically invented it!" Arturo2 proclaimed. "There is no one more qualified to speak on the subject than me. And here, by pure chance, physical proof of all I have worked for has fallen into my lap. I always supposed that if anyone could solve the problem, it would be me. Yet it never occurred to me it would be another me."

"Technically Quinn," Wade pointed out.

"So if I understand your proposal correctly, in exchange for my help, you will give me the practical knowledge to facilitate interdimensional travel," Arturo2 said.

Maggie and Wade looked to each other. They'd made no such proposal.

"Actually, we were kind of hoping that once you understood the situation, you'd let us deal with the abductors," Wade said.

"Deal with them how?" Arturo2 challenged. "By your own admission, your travels have reduced you to a state of poverty. These men, dangerous men I emphasize, believe your friend to be me, a world-renowned physicist and author. They will not simply hand me over. The price will be steep and far beyond your means."

"We have other ways of freeing him," Maggie growled.

"The two of you? Stage a commando raid of their facilities? I assure you, you're not going to be able to hack a computer database to find that address. Even if you did, you'd never make it in and out all in one piece."

"We've done better against worse odds," Maggie said.

"If you say so. In any event, you still need my cooperation," he said, gesturing to the phone. Wade looked to Christina Arturo to see if there was any sympathy for their plight in her. If there was, she hid it well. Her face remained passive.

"Now here's what we're going to do," Arturo2 said. "I am a reasonable man. As a show of my good faith, I will pay the ransom for your friend. As I said, it will be a terrible cost, but it is worth it for the information you can give me. In exchange, I will expect your full cooperation. Between two Arturos and this Logan character you spoke of, I'm confident we will find a satisfactory solution. And who knows? With a little luck, we may even be able to work out a way to send you home, hmm? Of course, I will need a show of your good faith first - your timing device."

The phone rang. A knot immediately formed in Wade's stomach as the ring went still. The butler had answered the phone. "Any moment, my man will walk through that door," Arturo2 said. "I need your decision."

Wade turned to Maggie. "We have to." It killed Maggie to hear it, but she knew Wade was right. This was their best chance of freeing Arturo. What happened afterward was still negotiable. Maybe they'd give Arturo2 what he wanted. Maybe they wouldn't.

Maggie reached into her coat pocket and removed the timer. Arturo2 accepted it with both awe and befuddlement at how mundane the device was. As he pocketed it, the butler opened the door. "Phone for madam."

Wade and Maggie stopped breathing as everyone looked to Arturo2. He waited a few moments more before giving his wife a nod of the head. The deal was on. They'd play ball.

Mrs. Arturo received the phone. "Yes? ...Yes, I am ready to negotiate."

-----

"Five hundred thousand dollars," Arturo2 grunted after his wife finished speaking with the abduction agency. "It's appalling, and not just because I have to pay it. A mere half million for a Nobel laureate and best selling author while Christina Aguilera goes for seven point three? What is this country coming to?"

"You're infested with professional kidnapping squads and this is what aggravates you?" Wade shot back, the niceties gone after Arturo2's power play.

"Oh, it's just business," he dismissed. "Perhaps, however, we can find ourselves an America that values intellectual accomplishment over a pretty face and a shrill voice."

"Good luck."

"Let's go over the drop," Maggie said. "They told us to send two people, but they didn't specify which two to send. Wade and I--"

"I don't think so," Arturo2 said. "I appreciate your offer, but I have two others in mind. This sort of business, after all, is a man's job."

Somehow, both Maggie and Wade managed to hold their tongues.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to make arrangements for the funds," he said, grabbing his jacket. "Cheer up, ladies! Soon everything will be well!"

Once he had left the room, Maggie turned to his wife. "I need to use your phone."

-----

"Got it," Logan said, hanging up the hotel phone.

"I can't believe they talked them into it," Rembrandt said. "Those girls are smooth negotiators."

"Remmy, he blackmailed them for the sliding technology."

"Still, we got what we wanted."

"And we only have to choke up our only thing of value," Logan said, gathering up her few things into a backpack. "And without me, it's kind of useless."

"You really think that," Rembrandt said, exasperated with her. "You really believe that bundle of wires is worth more than people."

"Well isn't it?" she said. "It's the only reason you keep me around. If you could dig this out of me, you'd drop me in a heartbeat."

"That's not true," Rembrandt protested.

"Maybe not you, Rembrandt. You're some kind of unusually happy guy who manages to like everybody," Logan said. "But the others hate me. That's not going to change."

"It’s not going to change if you give them no reason to change."

Logan rolled her eyes.

"Weren't you the one lecturing me on taking risks?" Rembrandt asked. "If you are ever to gain their acceptance, you're going to have to risk dropping this tough façade and be a real friend to them. Now I know you ain't all bad. When Wade got into the trouble with her stalker, you played the role and protected her. And damn, you were almost human back in Kings Canyon. Why do you make it so difficult?"

"I guess it's easier that way," she said, slinging her pack over her shoulder. "Come on, we need to get going."

"Shouldn't we wait here, in case the professor calls?"

"The trade is taking place at the drop. Right now I'm wanted at Arturo's. He needs to pick my brain and arm. That's what I'm good for."

Rembrandt shook his head as she pushed out of the room. He was trying his best to break through with her, to find the little bit of Q-ball inside. Every now and then it would shine through. She wasn't a monster, just a kid who made a lot of bad decisions. He grabbed his jacket and turned off the light. "I hope it all goes down clean."

-----

Arturo lay in bed, Zinn at his side. Thoughts on doomed revolutions had led him to Shay's Rebellion, and often ignored insurrection raised by an unpaid soldier who returned home from the war for independence to find himself more taxed now than under British rule. Poor and angry, he and his fellow farmers fought to get what was theirs. They were crushed by the Massachusetts militia, but not before scaring the daylights out of the Founding Fathers.  Those were different times. The thought of an armed rebellion today seemed ludicrous. Then again, he was in a cell.

A noise from down the hallway got his attention, and he rose from his bed. His tormentors had returned.

"Mr. Arturo," the headman said. His associate opened the cell and the three men entered. "I have good news. Your wife has agreed to secure your release."

"How kind of her." And surprising. The other Arturo must be away, he thought. He wondered if she knew what she had bargained for.

The blond took note of Zinn's book on the bed. "Enjoy the book?"

"I was already familiar with it."

"Every American should read it. Had we taught all of history's lessons, we wouldn't be standing here today."

"I have no interest in debating the merits of your cause," Arturo said. "Just return me to my home."

"You see? That's the problem. The rich only care about themselves and protecting their property. The entire system is built to that end," he said, eager for a debate. "I used to believe in the Alger stories, Mr. Arturo. They told me that every American could rise to the top through hard work and I believed them. But it's a lie. For every Alger, there are thousands of people like me working just as hard and getting nowhere. The land of opportunity is a crock, cause the top isn't interested in sharing, all platitudes aside. It's just motivation for everyone else to run in place to provide for them."

Arturo bristled. "I, sir, am one of those Algers. My father was sent to fight in World War II, a war in which my mother was killed. When I was old enough, I immigrated to America where I devoted my life to study. It was through hard work and considerable rigor that I gained my place. There were setbacks, yes, but you did not see me crying over it. And I certainly never disgraced myself in the manner as you have done."

"Oh you have and worse," he said, casually dismissing Arturo's charge. "I'm not ashamed of what I do. I get up energized each morning, eager even. I love my job because I know that every day I'm doing good work."

"It is clear to me that your set of morals is so severely warped that there is no sense in us arguing it," Arturo said calmly.

"As are yours." He signaled to his co-workers to step forward. "Right now we have to do our jobs. Secure Mr. Arturo for delivery."

And back came the blindfold and cuffs.

-----

Once the finances had been arranged, Arturo2 invited Wade and Maggie to his study. The three were seated comfortably among the shelves and shelves of books, drinking tea and munching on cookies. He may be a manipulative egomaniac, but this Arturo was also a gracious host.

"This Quinn Mallory sounds like an exceptional young man," he commented. "Regrettably, I've had no student or heard anything of him within the academic community. Perhaps he turned his talents to another field."

"He always did like dinosaurs," Wade said. "That's all he could talk about for weeks after we encountered one."

"Dinosaurs? Alive today?" Arturo2 asked.

"All part of the wonderful package that is sliding," Maggie said, her tea and cookies untouched. There was a knock at the door and Arturo2 signaled they should enter. 'Bout time Rem gets here,' she thought. To her surprise, the butler had a handful of uniformed officers with him. She turned to Arturo2, a mix of alarm and anger on her face.

"What are you doing? The kidnappers explicitly said no police!"

"So they did," he said, replacing his teacup in its saucer. "Of course, you know all of their demands as you have been in league with them from the very start. Officers?"

The policemen advanced, grabbing Wade and Maggie. Both women resisted but found themselves quickly cuffed. Arturo2 rose, contempt on his face, and looked the stunned sliders over.

"You should know I was never taken in for a moment. I strung you along only as long as it took to involve the authorities," he said. "This is new and daring — I almost admire it — kidnap for ransom without the kidnapping. And such an elaborate and well-composed story about parallel dimensions, researched specifically to appeal to me. Unfortunately for you, I did not reach the pinnacle of my profession by subscribing to nonsense."

"It's not nonsense," Wade said.

"Young lady, when it comes to the subject of parallel universes, I value my own knowledge above all else, and I tell you passage between them cannot be done."

The professor retrieved their timer from his pocket. "But this, this is insulting. You spin me this marvelous yarn, and then tell me that this cheap piece of plastic is all one needs to accomplish the feat? It's not even worth keeping as a souvenir of this incident."

He tossed it back onto his love seat, like a discarded remote control.

"Mr. Arturo, please, we're not trying to con you," Wade pleaded. "We are who we say we are. Look, on my world, you were single. Your wife died of an aneurysm in her twenties."

Maggie shot her a look that screamed, 'Bad example!'

"Your mother died in the Blitz," Wade stammered. "Your father gave you a toy car for Christmas that year. You say it's the greatest gift you ever received."

"My father died in service to the crown in North Africa," Arturo2 said stiffly.

"Not where I'm from. It's a parallel difference!"

"No, it is merely a lie," Arturo2 countered. "Officers, I want these two removed from my house and charged with extortion. And if either says one more word threatening my wife, I'll have them up on additional charges."

"We'll have them held, Mr. Arturo," the officer restraining Wade said.

"You're killing yourself," Maggie yelled as she was led away. "You don't know what you've done."

If he did, he didn't seem to care. He returned to his couch and completed his snack. "Excellent tea."

-----

Rembrandt and Logan saw the cruisers pass them as they trudged to the Arturo residence. Outwardly they hoped some wealthy housewife had inadvertently set off her home security system, but they both knew it would invariably involve them. They were right. They even got the added benefit of seeing their friends loaded into the vehicles.

The two waited across the street as the police pulled out of the Arturo estate. "Looks like the professor didn't buy their story after all," Logan said. "That means no money and no money means--"

"I know the stakes," Rembrandt said tersely.

Logan shrugged, irritating him all the more. "So what? We should just go back to the hotel?" he charged.

"I didn't say that," she said. "I care, all right? I just... I don't know how to show it. This façade, as you put it, maybe it's my defense mechanism." Again she shrugged.

Rembrandt couldn't argue with it, nor did he have time. "How much time until the drop?"

"Maybe twenty minutes?"

"We need to be there when it takes place. If we don't show, Arturo's kidnappers will think we've broken the deal. We can't let that happen."

"Except we have broken the deal. We don't have any money!"

Rembrandt's eyes drifted toward her backpack. Logan shook her head. "They're not going to trade Arturo for M&Ms and novelty T-shirts."

"Looks like it could hold half a million to me," Rembrandt said. "We just need to get our foot in the door. Maybe we can talk our way through this. We gotta get moving."

"Great, another taxi ride." Logan said.

"It's like you said, girl, you want anything, you gotta take risks."

-----

Arturo found himself once more bound, blindfolded, and seated between two armed men as he was driven through the city. They'd followed the same routine in getting him from his cell to the car - rights, lefts, stairs, etc. He suspected he was probably in the same car, although there was no way of telling for sure. They probably had a fleet of vehicles with rotating plates and paint jobs. Just grab the one closest to the gate.

At least he wasn't gagged.

"We're proceeding to the drop," the leader said, from his seat up front. "Typically we'd wait for the money to clear and leave you in a random place, but thanks to your wife's willingness to pay in full and promptly, the shipping is free."

Arturo gave him a little mock laugh in appreciation.

"I must warn you, should anything go wrong, I am authorized to shoot you. Our team has the entire site covered. Even if you somehow managed to incapacitate the four of us, a sniper will still take you down," he explained. "We've come this far without incident. It would be foolish to jeopardize your life now."

"Most certainly," Arturo said sourly. "I wouldn't want to make your job any more unpleasant."

"You can gag him now," the leader told the guard.

"Naturally," Arturo spat out before he once again tasted cotton.

After a long drive in silence, the vehicle finally stopped. Arturo couldn't know it, but two people were waiting for them at the designated spot - a man and a woman, the former holding a backpack in his extended right arm.

"Just sit still, Mr. Arturo," the leader said, opening the passenger door. "Almost done."

The guard to his left also exited the vehicle and once again Arturo felt the end of a weapon pressed against his right side.

Outside the vehicle, Rembrandt's heart pounded as he held the bag aloft. The time to find out just what he was dealing with had come.

"Before we start, I want to warn you that we have the entire area covered. If you attempt to take Mr. Arturo by force, you will be met by fierce resistance," one of the masked men said.

"Yeah, we're cool," Rembrandt agreed.

"I see you have something for me."

"Not exactly," Rembrandt answered, slowly lowering the bag to the ground. "There's nothing in it but clothes and candy, but I can explain."

"The deal is for cash. If there's no cash, then we have nothing to negotiate," the man said.

"Look, you got the wrong guy. He looks like Maximillian Arturo but he isn't him! The real guy is back at his house. If you went down there, you'd see that!" Rembrandt said.

"You had your chance, and now it's gone. The world has one less egotistical blowhard to deal with," he said, turning to go.

"Wait," Logan shouted. Maybe Rembrandt had been right all along. It wasn't what they had that was valuable, but who they were. "What's worth more to you - a college professor or a pop celebrity?"

"Your point being?"

Logan pointed to Rembrandt. "Don't you know who this guy is?"

Dusk had fallen and it was difficult to make out any features. The second guard shined his flashlight straight into Rembrandt's face. Rembrandt tried his best to give a celebrity smile.

-----

The next morning found Wade and Maggie sharing a cell at the local precinct, still being held on charges of extortion and criminal threatening. It was mid-morning when an officer informed them that they were free to go. "Charges have been dropped," she told them. Warily, and a bit sore from a poor night's sleep, they made their way out to the lobby. Maximillian Arturo was waiting for them.

"Professor?" Wade asked, unsure she was seeing the right man.

"Good morning, Miss Welles, Miss Beckett. I am so dreadfully sorry for your incarceration," he said. To the officer, he said, "I, I feel just awful about it all. A terrible mix-up. I want to be clear that I want all matters to be dismissed."

"Hey, less paperwork for me," the cop said.

"Excellent, excellent," he said, warmly shaking her hand. "Thank you very much for your services. Keep up the good work."

As the three made their way from the officer, Maggie nudged Arturo. "How did you get out?"

"I owe my release to the daring exploits of Mr. Brown and Miss St. Clair, though I want you to know I deeply appreciate what you did for me. The least I could do was immediately come here to return the favor," Arturo said.

"You'd do it for us," Wade said, giving him a hug. "Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

"No, all and all, they were remarkably well-mannered for thieves. I hope the police were equally accommodating?"

"No worse for wear," Wade said. "Bad news, though. We lost the timer to your rotten double."

"Well, we have time. If I was able to walk into a police precinct and have you two released, I should be able to walk into my own home."

"You're going to really like your house," Wade smiled. Arturo smiled as well, eager to see what all the fuss was over.

"I don't get it. Where are Logan and Rembrandt? And where did they find the money to bail you out?" Maggie asked.

"Logan is outside haggling with a vendor over a T-shirt and hopefully picking up a watch for me. As for Mr. Brown, we need to pick him up at his record label."

"Record label?"

-----

Rembrandt2 was waiting in line at Happy Donuts when the cell phone in his pocket broke out into a ring tone version of his signature hit, "Cry Like a Man." Knowing who must be on the other line, he eagerly answered.

"Hey Artie, what's up?"

"Hey, hey! Congratulations!" Artie Field, his long time agent, answered.

"Congrats for what?"

"Congrats for what... what else? Your abduction, you idiot!"

"My abduction?" he said, lowering his voice when he noticed people were staring at him. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"No need to play dumb, Remmy, it's already on the news. Five hundred thousand dollars for the Crying Man. We couldn't ask for better publicity! The record label's ecstatic. I don't know how you set this up, but you're a promotional genius."

"Artie, I'm telling you, I didn't set up-- did you say five hundred thousand dollars? As in half a million dollars?" Rembrandt2's eyes went wide. He didn't know what had happened and he didn't care. "Then yes. Yes, I am a genius. What can I say, Artie? Cryin' Man's back!"


THE END