Life is the fire that burns and the sun that gives light. Life is the wind and the rain and the thunder in the sky. Life is matter and is earth, what is and what is not, and what beyond is in Eternity.
-Lucius Annaeus Seneca (Seneca the Younger)
Welcome to Arc 3.5! This will be a series of oneshot adventures that span approximately two years between the end of Arc 3 and the upcoming Arc 4. The oneshots will range from goofy to quite serious, depending upon the circumstances. I hope you enjoy them all!
Up first is a little adventure between Benton and Blair. Because when you add the Sandburg Zone to Quest luck, interesting things tend to happen!
Enjoy!
-==OOO==-
Knowledge is Power
-==OOO==-
"I love New York!" Blair said with a grin, looking happily out the window as the car bumped over the bridge.
"It's a lot nicer in the wintertime," Race nodded, agreeing. "All the holiday decorations really make the city shine. And the rain and snow keep some of the stink out of the air."
"But I wouldn't want to stay long," Benton said. "It's also a very busy time to be in the city."
"Yeah, but I thought Columbia was putting us up somewhere off the beaten track?" Blair asked.
"The hotel, yes. Not the university itself. While it's a great honor to be the final lecturer in their semester-long series, it virtually guarantees that the place will be packed."
"That's what you've got me for, Benton," Race said comfortingly.
Blair nodded, glad that he had successfully talked Jim into staying in Cascade. The Sentinel had not been pleased to have his Guide going off across the country without him, but there was no help for it. Cascade was deep in the last stages of a major crime spree and the best detective in Simon's department had been running ragged trying to keep up with it all. At some point the Major Crimes group had been forced to ask a few of the most acclimated of the Sentinels to step in and help on stakeouts just to make sure they didn't miss any busts in the mix. Jim's city needed him, so he had stayed. But he wasn't happy about it.
"We've got the lecture in a couple of hours at 10am, then lunch," Benton was saying. "That should give you the whole afternoon and evening to work your way through the library. We'll make sure you have privacy."
Blair tried to pretend he wasn't about to bounce out of his shoes, a neat trick when seated in the back of a car. Even a ridiculously early-morning flight hadn't been able to curb his enthusiasm. When Benton had invited Blair to accompany him to Columbia as an assistant, the Guide had been ecstatic. Columbia boasted one of the most complete libraries of Richard Burton's work in the world, and, with some negotiating by the esteemed Doctor Quest, it would be made available to him for the duration of their visit.
"Standard visiting security, Benton," Race said.
"I know, old friend. I know the drill."
"What's the drill?" Blair asked.
"Basically," Benton winked at his friend, "we stay out of sight while Race secures the area. Nobody gets too close unless he knows who he's dealing with. We have a false car waiting at a non-obvious departure point and we don't leave until we're sure that car hasn't been followed."
"Isn't that a little…paranoid?" Blair wondered.
"Better safe than sorry," Race growled. "Guarding Benton's my job. And Jim will skin me alive if anything happens to you, Sandburg."
"We'll be careful," Benton promised.
"Yeah. It'll be fine," Blair grinned.
-==OOO==-
Three hours later, Blair felt like kicking something. "It's not even my fault this time!"
"You're right," Benton sighed. "It's mine. I'm so sorry, Blair." He tried to scoot nearer to the younger man.
"No moving around, you two!" the man with the gun ordered roughly.
"You're going about this all wrong, you know," Blair said tiredly.
"Oh yeah? And what exactly do you know about it?" the man demanded.
"I don't even know how many times I've been kidnapped, tied up, or locked up," Blair shrugged. "Lots. Enough to get a doctorate in it, almost."
"So what am I doing that's wrong, then?"
Blair sighed. "Well, the car-jacking was good. Got us before Race could get into the car. So you're clearly smart and you knew what you were doing. But your choice of targets was pretty stupid. You'll never get away with doing anything to Doctor Quest."
"I ain't going to do nothing to him! I just want him to redistribute a little here."
Benton looked critically at the man. His skin was a pasty, pallid color, and he was thin almost the point of gauntness, but there was no obvious sign of any hard drug use. He also looked very unsettled.
"If it's money you want, you should know I am unable to give in to any attempt at extortion," Benton said carefully. "Otherwise it would be open season on myself and anyone I might choose as an associate or friend."
"Yeah, I know, you don't do ransom demands when it comes to your family. But what about him?" he pointed to Blair. "Will your bodyguard really not give me just a drop in the bucket of your bank account to keep him safe and sound?"
"That's your problem number two," Blair piped up. "I'm nobody. Doctor Quest's people would be as likely to pay money for your safe return as mine."
Benton did not permit his face to twitch, but he caught Blair's eye and was amused at the fervent insincerity in his look.
"I don't believe you."
"You should, though. I've been through this rodeo before. It only works if the person you've got is willing to deal and if they've got something worth dealing for. Doctor Quest has already told you nobody will deal for him, and I can tell you that nobody will deal for me, either."
"I bet Quest here will deal for you," the man snapped back. "What do you say, Doc? Give me just a little advance, a clean million bucks, and I won't shoot so many holes through this guy that you could use him as a sieve."
"Something else to work on," Blair said, ignoring the glare over his head. "If you're going to threaten me, you've got to do it right. Use me as a sieve? Can you use people as sieves? Really?"
"With enough holes in you, sure!" the man growled. "Want to find out?"
"No, he really doesn't," Benton put in quickly.
"Good. Now shut up. I've gotta think."
"Yeah, 'cause that's going to get you far," Blair said snidely.
"Are you asking for a bullet, you little piece of trash?" the man suddenly loomed.
Blair fought not to grin. Now he had the guy's attention. "Not a bullet. Just some common sense, man! Look, you've got the golden goose here and you're treating it like it's the feathers that matter! You gotta change your thinking, my friend."
"What are you talking about?"
"Okay. You want money, right? Well, Benton Quest definitely has that. But he isn't going to give it up for no good reason. So give him a reason, okay? He's a well-known humanitarian and philanthropist. If you're trying to get an organ transplant for a sick kid or to keep your old mom out of starvation, he'll give you anything you need. Just ask! Hell, he might even create a foundation just to help you out!"
Benton bit down on his tongue hard to keep from laughing.
"Is that true?" the man glared at Benton, still leaning over Blair.
"I have always tried to help people when I can," Benton said honestly, deliberately not looking at Blair waggling his eyebrows in meaningful communication. "Tell me. What is it that drove you to this point?"
As though he had been waiting for someone to ask that very question, the man began spilling out his life story. Throughout an hour-long, semi-coherent narrative, Benton and Blair learned that their captor's name was Andy, that he had been a drifter for most of his life with no interest in anything but sliding away from responsibility, that his girlfriend had recently broken up with him for mooching off her, and that he now had nothing and nowhere to go unless he received a huge influx of cash to offset his debts. He seemed to think he would be set if he could get a racecar crew together and start competing on the international circuit. Either that or start running a dirty-talk chat website online – his preference went back and forth.
"Well, it seems clear to me," Benton said when the man ran out of story, "that there's a good chance we could set up a charitable organization to help you reach your goals. There must be many people who are down on their luck who would benefit from being given the technology and a bit of start-up capital for a variety of web services."
Blair fought not to snicker.
"What do you think would be a reasonable annual stipend?" Benton asked.
"You're serious? You're not just messing with me?" Andy wanted to know.
"Even if he isn't serious, what's the harm in planning it out?" Blair shrugged. "He's still all tied up over there. He's clearly not going anywhere. What else does he have to do but figure out how to fix your problems? Even if he's lying through his teeth, you're still in control here."
"Good point. Okay. So, any salary I want?"
"Within reason, of course."
"A hundred grand a year."
"Okay," Benton nodded. "And what should we call this foundation?"
"What?"
"You want to name it, don't you?" Blair asked.
"Oh. Sure. And I guess I can't call it the Screw You All group or something. Though that would be fun. To have business cards that just said Screw You All!" Andy grinned at the thought.
"If I am going to write it off for tax purposes, it has to at least sound legitimate," Benton pointed out.
"Right. Gotta mess with Uncle Sam, too. Okay. How about Andy's Way? Like the United Way but just for me?"
Blair feigned a coughing fit as a distraction to keep Andy from seeing the open sniggering Benton was trying and failing to hide.
"You'll want some bylaws," Blair said. "Rules about who can and who can't get money from the organization."
"Do I get to decide it?" Andy asked.
Benton nodded. "Sure."
"Well, definitely me. Not Ross, because he's a dumbass. Not G-Pipe, because I owe him money and he ain't taking any of mine. Lucy's okay. She can join the way. And Pedro. Deshawn too. But Micky can go beg some other sucker. I ain't paying him a dime."
"I think we should start writing some of this down," Benton advised coolly. "The more we can record now, the easier to get the legal documentation together."
"Fine. But not you. Him," he said, jerking a thumb at Blair.
"Like I said, man. You're in control here," Blair assured him.
So the man moved to where he had thrown Blair into the opposite corner of the room of the dingy apartment in which he was holding them and cut the thick packing tape that bound his wrists and ankles. Blair rotated his wrists gratefully but waited for Andy to haul him to his feet.
"You start writing," he said, shoving Blair at an old table and a milk-crate approximating a chair. Blair found a pen and a napkin and started to dutifully write down everything that had been said while Andy looked on.
"Excellent," Benton nodded. "Now, of course, once you work for Andy's Way, you won't need to draw a stipend. You'll be paid to hand out money to the worthy cases you already mentioned and to manage the cash flow."
"Right, sure."
"Would that be a parabolic cash flow?" Blair asked, keeping his voice even.
"I think an inverse logarithmic scale is more appropriate, don't you?" Benton replied archly.
"Only if you're a chump!" Blair declared. "At least consider an ergonomic solution for the output."
"Do you want Andy to be investigated for banking fraud?!" Benton shot back. "The interest rates alone need to measure an anabolic trajectory with, at minimum, a quantum phase simulator!"
"What the hell are you two talking about?" Andy bellowed when he finally got a word in edgewise.
"Setting up your foundation," Benton answered primly. "But this preschool-level idiot doesn't know what he's doing."
"Do you know anybody good with numbers?" Blair asked. "Somebody who can help you make sure you set up your pay to reflect current market fairness in macroeconomic terms?"
"I got a bookie I don't owe no money to," Andy said.
"Good," Benton nodded. "Call him. We shall wait."
Andy pulled a cell phone from his pocket and turned his back on the pair of them. He set his gun down to dial.
And Blair took his opportunity to hit him over the head as hard as he could with the milk-crate.
"There's more of the tape over there," Benton gestured to the crusty kitchen counter which held the packing-tape dispenser. Blair dashed for it and swiftly secured their kidnapper. Then he bent to cut Benton loose.
"Anabolic trajectory, Benton?" Blair asked with a grin.
"An ergonomic output?" Benton shot back, grateful when the tape finally came apart and he could flex his hands freely.
"Yeah, I was having fun there," Blair nodded, retrieving the cell phone. "Would you like the honors, Benton?"
"No, go ahead. I'm still processing the fact that you called me a chump." Benton couldn't keep from laughing a bit.
While Blair called Race, who was clearly frantic and also very, very pissed off, Benton stretched his legs by walking to the table to see what Blair had been writing. As his eyes swept over the pile of napkins, he snorted.
"Is this the equation for your student loan interest rate?" he called.
"No, seriously, we're fine," Blair was saying firmly. "We are. I'm glad you traced the car, but we're, like, across the street or something. Look for the building that seems like it should be made of tetanus needles. We're in here. No, brown. The brown one. Oh for—" He looked up. "Stick your head out a window. Race needs directions."
Benton moved to the nearest window and ably forced it open, the cold winter air bursting into the stale room. He leaned out and waved. "Race! Up here!"
Blair joined him. "Race told us not to move because he wants to see if we're all right and he doesn't trust the stairs in this building."
"Well, in that he's perfectly correct." Benton turned back to their captive who was starting to blink. Blair hadn't hit him hard enough to knock him completely unconscious – just enough to incapacitate him for a few moments.
"Wha…wha happn'd?" Andy muttered.
"I'm sorry," Benton squatted before the prone man. "Andy's Way has been denied by the Bank of Race Bannon. I'm afraid you'll have to deal with prison instead."
"You…did you annoy me into screwing up?" Andy asked as he woke up and glared at his former captives.
"Something like that," Blair shrugged. "It's a talent. I told you I've been captured way too often to not be good at it." He headed to the door to unlock and open it for the authorities.
"Well, Doctor Sandburg, if we hurry, I'm sure Columbia would give you space to deliver a lecture on the subject," Benton offered.
"No thanks," Blair shook his head. "I'm going to get enough of a lecture when we get back to Cascade and Jim finds out. I don't suppose we could just, you know, forget to mention this?"
"Not a chance, Sandburg," came Race's voice. "Jim's on the phone and he wants to talk to you. Now."
Blair took the phone in Race's outstretched hand gingerly, as though it might explode. Then he weaved back through the pair of police officers who had been first into the apartment and were beginning to read Andy his rights.
"Hi Jim!" Blair said all too brightly into the phone.
Even across the room, the bellow of "SANDBURG!" was clearly audible.
"Lovely to hear your dulcet tones also, Jim," Blair said blithely. "Jim, I'd like you to talk to my new friend Andy. We've got a whole new business plan to discuss…"
"Get me out of here!" Andy yelled suddenly. "Anything to keep them from talking to me anymore!"
The officers, caught between astonishment and hilarity, hauled Andy to his feet and out the door.
"See, Jim? I'm fine. Oh, but Benton called me a preschool-level idiot."
"And you called me a chump!" Benton protested.
"And I am calling this little adventure over," Race declared, grabbing the phone back from Blair. "Chill out, Ellison. I'm going to watch them look up books in a library all afternoon and I'll get them back to Cascade before midnight. Okay mom?" And he hung up without waiting for a response.
"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Benton said.
"What? Getting back tonight?" Race frowned in confusion.
"No. Giving us access to more scholastic resources," Benton grinned brightly. "We may learn entirely new ways of confusing and outwitting criminals!"
"Or finding better comebacks," Blair added.
"Maybe I better do some reading of my own," Race grumbled as he led the way downstairs.