[Part Seven]

For the third day in a row, Chuck found himself compelled to go to the 7 1/2 floor. This time during his lunch break. He didn't find anyone there, besides Larry, who nodded a quick hello. The entire floor was deserted in the middle of the afternoon.

Chuck strolled over towards the closed solid oak door which was the portal to his friend's mind. He was still mad at Gary, but was angrier at himself. He still couldn't believe that he lost five million dollars because of one stinking number. "From now on, thirty-three is my unlucky number," he mumbled to himself.

Chuck reached for the Gary's door handled and was about to enter his friend's mind, but he stopped. He looked to his left and right, at the other doors that lined the corridors. Each one represented a person who got tomorrow's paper. He wondered if they were anything like his friend. Did they impose the same rules that Gary had on the paper?

Walking to the left, Chuck opened a random door and was pulled in. It was the same disorienting ride, and he figured that was the price to see the world through another person's eyes. Oddly enough he was getting use to the plummet through the darkness, the way astronauts train for the lack of gravity in space. The abrupt stop always made him queasy though, but that was always the indication he was in another body. It didn't take him very long to realize where he was.

(A limo... A very nice, expensive limo at that... Now why can't Gary every rent or buy one of these... It's even got a TV and a wet bar...)

"What? What do you mean you aren't going to go? Look I'll pay you double. No? Okay triple... All right fine... Nevermind... Damn..."

(He's a business man?)

"Still no one?"

"No." Chuck's view swung around to another man, wearing an expensive Italian suit, sitting adjacent. "You might have to go..."

"No, that's okay Sam," the other passenger shook his head. "I'd rather not."

"Somebody has to go, Joey," Sam sighed. "Call Auggie and offer him five times the regular amount."

"You got it boss." Joey pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number.

"Just once, I wish that this thing would foretell a decent day." Sam glanced down at his copy of the New York Daily News.

(Oh wait... You've been delegating the paper's incidents... That's just ... brilliant!)

"Sam! He wants cash. "

(I wonder how much he pays these people...)

"That's fine, but we have to stop at the OTB later. We're running a little low on funds. There's only fifty-thousand here and it's been a busy news day. Just remind me later."

(Only 50,000!!? Gary would have a coronary if I suggest he make half of that...)

Joey nodded and continued his conversation on his cell phone.

"I'm out 15,000 because of some poor schmuck..."

(*Choke* You're paying someone 15 g's for one rescue! I might just move to New York to work for you...)

A vacuum effect. That was the only way to describe it. Chuck felt himself being pulled out of Sam Cooper's mind. It was a completely dizzying effect, like someone put him in a washing machine while it was on the spin cycle. He couldn't tell which way was up. Chuck just held on and waited for the inevitable.

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