I was taken to this big old brick building. The building was staffed with military police. They took my fingerprints and photographed me.
I wiondered what was going on. Had I ended up on an Army base of some sort? The street that I was arrested on looked like a typical city street, but perhaps it was a mockup city used by the Army for the purposes of urban combat training or something. This would not be the first time I slid right onto a military base, and was arrested by the military police.
I could be charged with trespassing. Then again, I might end up getting shot as a spy, if the country I was in was currently at war. I mean, I had absolutely no idea about anything of this world, other than I was a prisoner of some military force. One thing was certain-these soldiers were human.
At least I do not have to worry about food. At least, I hope the Army feeds its prisoners. If they feed me, but not shoot me, I could leave in a few hours.
I was taken to a cell block, wehre there were a dozen cells lined along a hallway. There were only two other people in there. At least the cells were clean.
"Do I get a phone call?" I asked an MP who was watching the cell block.
"No," he replied.
"What will happen to me?" I asked.
The guy was clearly not in any good mood, that I could tell from his face. "We'd either release you or turn you over to civilian authorities."
Well, not much else to do but to sleep, and hope that my next slide will reunite me with Quinn.
The next morning, I woke up, the light shining through the iron bars of my cell. I waited in my cell, wondering if I would get food, or get released. There were about thirty-two hours left.
I saw two soldiers walk in. I noticed from their uniforms that they were in the U.S. Army.
"Hello there," said one of the men, whose rank markings indicated he was a sergeant. "Come with me; let us have breakfast."
We were taken to this dim room, with only an incandescent lamp providing light. I got scrambled eggs and Frosted Flakes cereal, as well as orange juice and milk.
"Could you tell me wehere I am?" I asked.
"You want to ask questions?" asked the sergeant. "You are at a U.S. Army Detainee Center in Los Angeles. We bring people here if they do not show their papers fast enough."
"Papers?"
"You know, ID, like a driver's license or a passport."
"I'm a transient," I said. "I don't carry papers."
"Well, we have your prints. According to your prints, your name is Colin Mallory, currently of Beverly Hills."
"That's right," I said. "I am Colin Mallory."
"But one must wonder why someone would come all the way from Beverly Hills to a military occupation zone. And no car keys were found here. You must have walked a long way from Beverly Hills."
"I like to travel."
"But you see, we called your home, to notify your wife. And guess who answered? Someone claiming to be you."
"What?" I asked.
"When we called your home, a man answered, claiming to be Colin Mallory. Claiming to be you."
"That's interesting."
"I will conclude two things. Either he's pretendin' to be you, or yer pretendin' to be him."
"What do you think?" I asked.
"It don't matter. The Army is here to keep the peace, not investigate identity fraud. We'll just forward this report to the L.A. County D.A. I hope you are not hiding anything."
"Do you want to know the truth about me?" I asked. "I'm a traveler from another dimension."
"You're an alien?" asked the sergeant. "Maybe we should take a DNA sample or something."
"I'm a human like you. I just come from another dimension."
"When the D.A. hears about this, he might try to have you committed."
"Look at this watch," I said.. "It's counting down. The moment it reaches zero, I' m gone from this world. You can keep me here the next thirty hours, but you'll see me disappear."
After that, I was led back to my cell.
It was just an hour later when it happened.
I was sitting in my cell, as there was nothing else to do. The sergeant who interviewed me walked to the cell block.
"Mallory," he said. "Get up."
"What is it?" I asked.
"The sheriff has declined to take youn into custody. You're free to go. Your twin brother is waiting for you."
"My twin brother?"
I was led out of the cell block, and went to the lobby of the Detention Center. there, I saw myself.
Or rather, I saw my native counterpart to this world. He was dressed in an expensive-looking suit. He was accompanied by some tough-looking guys.
"Come with me," he said. "Let's go."
He led me to his car, a Mercedes. Within minutes were we on the 110 Freeway.
"So," Colin said, "Tell me about yourself."
So I told him the truth. I told him that I was born in San Francisco, that I moved to El Segundo, and then I traveled to different dimensions.
"So there are copies of Earth in these other dimensions?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
"And I have copies in all of those dimensions?"
"No."
"Let me get this straight, these dimensions are separate, so how could you be so much like me? You look like me, you have my name."
"Well, they interace on a quantum level. They interfere with one another, which is why copies of one thing exist in different dimensions."
"My brother used to discuss parallel universes."
"Is his name Quinn?"
"Lucky guess. Your brother is named Quinn too, right?"
"Right? Where is he?"
"He's a graduate student in Stanford, just south of San Francisco."
I looked at my watch. I had twenty-nine hours to contact him. Judging from what my duplicate said, the native Quinn has some knowledge of parallel universes. Maybe he could reunite me with my brother.
"How did you find me?" I asked.
"The U.S. Army called me at my home and told me that they had me in the detainee center. I told this this was impossible. I decided to go over there the next morning and see what's up."
We took an exit on La Cienega. We drove north for thirty more minutes through city traffic. Soon, we reached Beverly Hills. We reached a residential street called Hillcrest Drive and then we parked in a driveway.
"Roxanne isn't home now," he said. "Come on in."
My duplicate's home was, well, better than any place I had stayed in in the past four months or so.
The living room was huge, with new-looking sofas and a coffee table that looked like it was made by hand, rather than in some factory. A huge Magnavox television was in the back, with a cable box, a Sony VCR, and a Toshiba DVD player attached to it. There was also a bookcase filled with lots of books.
"Make yourselves at home," he said. "I have some calls to make."
So I plopped myself right on the couch. I browsed through a recent issue of People magazine. I looked through the magazine. I read an article about some actor named Arnold Schwarzenegger, who had recently donated a lot of money to build a youth center in Pasadena. I read about some seventeen-year-old singer named Britney Spears. And I read an article about a new movie starring soem actress named Courtney Cox.
"You like the place?" Colin asked as he walked down the stairs.
"It's nice," I said.
"Listen," he said. "there are some things that came up on work, so I'm gonna be gone for a little while. I'm going to the Caymans. I'm leaving today."
"So what?" I asked.
"So you will be taking my place."
"What?" I asked.
"You look like me and you sound like me. You can have everything- the house, the car, the credit cards, the wife. You said you'd be here for only until the next day, right?"
"Well, yeah, at least I hope I don't overstay my welcome here. But why are you giving your life to me?"
"I just need to get away from a while. Away from this place. Away from the country. I have to be at LAX at noon."
Then he left. I saw him gert into an airport shuttle van.
There was something he was concealing from me, some vital clue. I mean, I've seen Quinn and Rembrandt and Maggie get mixed upo in the lives of their duplicates. Hell, I've been mixed up in the life of some of my duplicates. One of them even tortured me and sent me to a death camp. Well, according to my watch, I leave tomorrow.
Of course, with my duplicate's wealth, I can finally live high for a while. I might as well enjoy it.
I looked around. My duplicate's bedroom had a king-sized bed and a beatutiful dresser that can only have been made by hand. there was also a private study, with a Power Macintosh G4 on a desk and bookshelves along the other three walls.
I looked around at some photgraphs. I recognized photos of Quinn, and my parents' duplicates.
I also saw of wedding picture of the native Colin as well as a woman whom I recognized.
I recognized her because I almost married one of her duplicates a year ago.
I had gotten mixed up with the life of my duplicate, and I almost married her fiance. The marriage was arranged between my duplicate's family and her family, in order to create a corporate merger.
I looked through some of my duplicate's personal belonings. He has over one million dollars in a Bank of America savings account, and he was currently employed at Prudential Securities in downtown Los Angeles. I also saw one of his degrees, an MBA from Stanford University.
After stuffing myself full, something I had not done in a long, long time, I decided to go to the Beverly Hills Public Library. After wealking for a few minutes, i reached the library. I quickly looked for any history books and news magazines, to see what is up and coming about the world and its historical background.
There was little of interest in the texts of world and American history, at least nothing that stood out from the alternate histories I have read in the past year or so.
I did read about how I ended up in an Army Detainee Center in the first place.
About six years ago, there was an increase in murders, fueled by gangs who sold tobacco on the streets. The shooting death of a teenager in 1995 spraked massive public outrage against the violence. It was pointed out that more people were killed on the streetsd than in the Korean War of the early 1950's. It was pointed out that young people in inner city neighborhoods talked about what they would wear in their own funerals, as if they expected to die.
In response, President Patrick J. Buchanan declared martial law, and sent the U.S. Army into these neightborhoods he said were under seige, thus beginning the military operation known as Javier's Legacy. Military Occupation Zones were established, where the Army had complete authority. Crimes committed in those occupation zones were tried by military commissions.
I looked at the picture of Javier, the teenager whose shooting death led to martial law. and it turned out he was a duplicate of one of the relief workers I worked with in the previous world.
I continued doing more research into this world. I noted there was a nuclear power plant in Terminal Island. I hoped it does not blow its stack like its counterpart did in the previous world.
I went to have a spaghetti lunch at a fine Italian restaurant on Santa Monica Boulevard in Beverly Hills. I had not eaten in a restaurant like this for months. And the servings were huge. Complementary breadsticks were served along with the spaghetti. I was full by the time I finsihed. After that, I paid with a Discover Platinum Card, issued to one Colin Mallory.
In any event, I decided to head home. It was a long walk, and it did put some strain on my stomach, which was trying to digest my lunch, but after a few minutes, I reached my home-for-the-night on Hillcrest Drive.
I opened the door, abnd I saw a woman who appared in the wedding photo with the native Colin.
"Hello, Roxanne," I said.
"Colin," she said. "You taking a day off work?"
"Yeah," I replied. I kissed her, and then sat in front of the TV. "I went to the library and decided to have lunch by myself."
"By yourself?" she asked. She sounded as if she were suspecting soemthing. I wonder if she could suspect that her husband's counterpart from another dimension replaced him.
"Yes, by myself. What did you do?"
"I went to the country club with the girls, played some golf."
I went over to my study. I turned on the G4. Within minutes, Netscape was running, and I was in the 411 Web Site.
I looked up Quinn Mallory, and I found his number. It appeared he was living in San Mateo.
I dialed Quinn's number.
"Hello, this is Quinn," a voice said. "I'm not home now, but please leave a message and I'll call you back."
"This is Colin," I said. "I need to talk to you. It has something to do with parallel universes." I looked at my watch, and it was likely that I would be gone before Quinn could help me, if he could help me.
It was getting late. I had less than twenty-four hours on this Earth.
"Roxanne," I said to my counterpart's wife, "how about we go out to dinner?"
"Go out?" she asked. "With you? You haven't wanted to go out with me in a long time."
"What could be the harm?" I asked. "You don't seem to be too happy about me. Listen, I'm just asking you out to dinner, that's all."
So we went to a fancy steakhouse restaurant in downtown Beverly Hills. I drove there in my duplicate's Mercedes. I still remember how to drive.
I was wearing a suit, as were all the other men. The light was dim, and ony many of the tables there were candles. I saw a waiter weartring a red vest ov er a white shirt approach.
"Mr. Mallory," he said. "God to see you again."
"Good to see you."
"Who is this fair lady? I never seen you with her before."
"She is Mrs. Mallory," I truthfully said.
And so we ordered from our menus. I ordered filet mignon, since technically my duplicate would pay for this. I'll be gone next afternoon, so I won't be stuck with the bill.
"Colin," asked Roxanne, "are you having an affair?"
An affair? I wondered what sort of trouble my duplicate was in.
"No," I replied truthfully.
"Then who's Jennifer? She called our home several times, asking for you."
"For me?' I asked, sipping my water. "Exactly whom was she asking for?"
"You. Colin."
"Then she must be asking for a different Colin," I answered, which was definitely true.
Night had fallen on Beverly Hills. I had watched a Dodgers game on the television. There were so many channels, including the premiun channels. Of course, I would only be here until the next day.
I decided to take a shower. I removed my watch. The watch immediately read zero, as it does whenever I take it off. When I put it back on, I jhave to reset it so I will know how much time I have left.
I stripped off the rest of my clothes, and turned on the water in the shower. And let me say this, thje bathroom was the best I've ever been to in months. It was better than anything in the Chandler or the Dominion.
The warm water sprayed against my body as I lathered myself with Ivory soap.
Then I started feeling dizzy. It felt like if I was sliding.
Then I lost my sense of balance.
After regaining my balance, I noticed I was not being sprayed with water anymore. I was in a dimly lit room.
I wasn't supposed to slide until the next day! Was the watch malfunctioning? Now I slid to another world, and to top it off, I arrived here with nohing, buck naked!
I looked around, and I saw a Negro lady in front of some control panel or something. She was looking at me.
"Colin!" a male voice shouted out. I recognized that voice. It could only be him.
It was Rembrandt Brown.
"Rembrandt!" I shouted, looking at him. "Is that you?"
"Colin, is that really you?" he asked.
"Yes, it's me," I said. I also noticed Maggie Beckett in the room, as well as a young man whom I never seen before.
I walked over to greet them, when the Negro lady told me to stop.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"The field is what is keeping you here," she said. " I can only hold it for a minute. Once it's gone, you'll go back to where you came from."
"This is Diana Davis," said Rembrandt. "She joined us."
Now I remember. Another version of Diana Davis assembled the watch that I use to keep track of how much time I have until the next slide.
"what happened?" I asked.
"On my world, I was conducting an experiment, and your wormhole interefered," said Diana. "You became unstuck, and now youn slide from worlsd to world without a timer."
"I figured that part out already. Where's Quinn?"
Rembrandt, Maggie, and the strange fellow bowed their heads. "This is going to be hard to explain," said Rembrandt. "Quinn, is well, he's with us, but he's not available. You see"
"guys," said Diana, "this equipment won't maintain the field after ten seconds. Better say goodbye."
"Goodbye, Colin," said Rembrandt.
"Goodbye," said Maggie.
"Colin," said the stranger with them. "We'll get you back."
then I felt dizzy, and then felt myself being sprayed with water. I was back in the shower.
I went out and dried myself. I had returned to the same world I was yanked out of.
But I never felt better than I had since June. I knew that Rembradnt and Maggie were alive and well, and were trying to reunite with me. I hoped that weith the grace of God that I can rejoin them in my quest ot find my home world.
I dressed up, and then pout on my watch. I reset it so I will know how much time I have left.
I couldn't believe the answer.
The watch read that I have about ninety-five hours left until my next slide.
I wiondered what was going on. Had I ended up on an Army base of some sort? The street that I was arrested on looked like a typical city street, but perhaps it was a mockup city used by the Army for the purposes of urban combat training or something. This would not be the first time I slid right onto a military base, and was arrested by the military police.
I could be charged with trespassing. Then again, I might end up getting shot as a spy, if the country I was in was currently at war. I mean, I had absolutely no idea about anything of this world, other than I was a prisoner of some military force. One thing was certain-these soldiers were human.
At least I do not have to worry about food. At least, I hope the Army feeds its prisoners. If they feed me, but not shoot me, I could leave in a few hours.
I was taken to a cell block, wehre there were a dozen cells lined along a hallway. There were only two other people in there. At least the cells were clean.
"Do I get a phone call?" I asked an MP who was watching the cell block.
"No," he replied.
"What will happen to me?" I asked.
The guy was clearly not in any good mood, that I could tell from his face. "We'd either release you or turn you over to civilian authorities."
Well, not much else to do but to sleep, and hope that my next slide will reunite me with Quinn.
The next morning, I woke up, the light shining through the iron bars of my cell. I waited in my cell, wondering if I would get food, or get released. There were about thirty-two hours left.
I saw two soldiers walk in. I noticed from their uniforms that they were in the U.S. Army.
"Hello there," said one of the men, whose rank markings indicated he was a sergeant. "Come with me; let us have breakfast."
We were taken to this dim room, with only an incandescent lamp providing light. I got scrambled eggs and Frosted Flakes cereal, as well as orange juice and milk.
"Could you tell me wehere I am?" I asked.
"You want to ask questions?" asked the sergeant. "You are at a U.S. Army Detainee Center in Los Angeles. We bring people here if they do not show their papers fast enough."
"Papers?"
"You know, ID, like a driver's license or a passport."
"I'm a transient," I said. "I don't carry papers."
"Well, we have your prints. According to your prints, your name is Colin Mallory, currently of Beverly Hills."
"That's right," I said. "I am Colin Mallory."
"But one must wonder why someone would come all the way from Beverly Hills to a military occupation zone. And no car keys were found here. You must have walked a long way from Beverly Hills."
"I like to travel."
"But you see, we called your home, to notify your wife. And guess who answered? Someone claiming to be you."
"What?" I asked.
"When we called your home, a man answered, claiming to be Colin Mallory. Claiming to be you."
"That's interesting."
"I will conclude two things. Either he's pretendin' to be you, or yer pretendin' to be him."
"What do you think?" I asked.
"It don't matter. The Army is here to keep the peace, not investigate identity fraud. We'll just forward this report to the L.A. County D.A. I hope you are not hiding anything."
"Do you want to know the truth about me?" I asked. "I'm a traveler from another dimension."
"You're an alien?" asked the sergeant. "Maybe we should take a DNA sample or something."
"I'm a human like you. I just come from another dimension."
"When the D.A. hears about this, he might try to have you committed."
"Look at this watch," I said.. "It's counting down. The moment it reaches zero, I' m gone from this world. You can keep me here the next thirty hours, but you'll see me disappear."
After that, I was led back to my cell.
It was just an hour later when it happened.
I was sitting in my cell, as there was nothing else to do. The sergeant who interviewed me walked to the cell block.
"Mallory," he said. "Get up."
"What is it?" I asked.
"The sheriff has declined to take youn into custody. You're free to go. Your twin brother is waiting for you."
"My twin brother?"
I was led out of the cell block, and went to the lobby of the Detention Center. there, I saw myself.
Or rather, I saw my native counterpart to this world. He was dressed in an expensive-looking suit. He was accompanied by some tough-looking guys.
"Come with me," he said. "Let's go."
He led me to his car, a Mercedes. Within minutes were we on the 110 Freeway.
"So," Colin said, "Tell me about yourself."
So I told him the truth. I told him that I was born in San Francisco, that I moved to El Segundo, and then I traveled to different dimensions.
"So there are copies of Earth in these other dimensions?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
"And I have copies in all of those dimensions?"
"No."
"Let me get this straight, these dimensions are separate, so how could you be so much like me? You look like me, you have my name."
"Well, they interace on a quantum level. They interfere with one another, which is why copies of one thing exist in different dimensions."
"My brother used to discuss parallel universes."
"Is his name Quinn?"
"Lucky guess. Your brother is named Quinn too, right?"
"Right? Where is he?"
"He's a graduate student in Stanford, just south of San Francisco."
I looked at my watch. I had twenty-nine hours to contact him. Judging from what my duplicate said, the native Quinn has some knowledge of parallel universes. Maybe he could reunite me with my brother.
"How did you find me?" I asked.
"The U.S. Army called me at my home and told me that they had me in the detainee center. I told this this was impossible. I decided to go over there the next morning and see what's up."
We took an exit on La Cienega. We drove north for thirty more minutes through city traffic. Soon, we reached Beverly Hills. We reached a residential street called Hillcrest Drive and then we parked in a driveway.
"Roxanne isn't home now," he said. "Come on in."
My duplicate's home was, well, better than any place I had stayed in in the past four months or so.
The living room was huge, with new-looking sofas and a coffee table that looked like it was made by hand, rather than in some factory. A huge Magnavox television was in the back, with a cable box, a Sony VCR, and a Toshiba DVD player attached to it. There was also a bookcase filled with lots of books.
"Make yourselves at home," he said. "I have some calls to make."
So I plopped myself right on the couch. I browsed through a recent issue of People magazine. I looked through the magazine. I read an article about some actor named Arnold Schwarzenegger, who had recently donated a lot of money to build a youth center in Pasadena. I read about some seventeen-year-old singer named Britney Spears. And I read an article about a new movie starring soem actress named Courtney Cox.
"You like the place?" Colin asked as he walked down the stairs.
"It's nice," I said.
"Listen," he said. "there are some things that came up on work, so I'm gonna be gone for a little while. I'm going to the Caymans. I'm leaving today."
"So what?" I asked.
"So you will be taking my place."
"What?" I asked.
"You look like me and you sound like me. You can have everything- the house, the car, the credit cards, the wife. You said you'd be here for only until the next day, right?"
"Well, yeah, at least I hope I don't overstay my welcome here. But why are you giving your life to me?"
"I just need to get away from a while. Away from this place. Away from the country. I have to be at LAX at noon."
Then he left. I saw him gert into an airport shuttle van.
There was something he was concealing from me, some vital clue. I mean, I've seen Quinn and Rembrandt and Maggie get mixed upo in the lives of their duplicates. Hell, I've been mixed up in the life of some of my duplicates. One of them even tortured me and sent me to a death camp. Well, according to my watch, I leave tomorrow.
Of course, with my duplicate's wealth, I can finally live high for a while. I might as well enjoy it.
I looked around. My duplicate's bedroom had a king-sized bed and a beatutiful dresser that can only have been made by hand. there was also a private study, with a Power Macintosh G4 on a desk and bookshelves along the other three walls.
I looked around at some photgraphs. I recognized photos of Quinn, and my parents' duplicates.
I also saw of wedding picture of the native Colin as well as a woman whom I recognized.
I recognized her because I almost married one of her duplicates a year ago.
I had gotten mixed up with the life of my duplicate, and I almost married her fiance. The marriage was arranged between my duplicate's family and her family, in order to create a corporate merger.
I looked through some of my duplicate's personal belonings. He has over one million dollars in a Bank of America savings account, and he was currently employed at Prudential Securities in downtown Los Angeles. I also saw one of his degrees, an MBA from Stanford University.
After stuffing myself full, something I had not done in a long, long time, I decided to go to the Beverly Hills Public Library. After wealking for a few minutes, i reached the library. I quickly looked for any history books and news magazines, to see what is up and coming about the world and its historical background.
There was little of interest in the texts of world and American history, at least nothing that stood out from the alternate histories I have read in the past year or so.
I did read about how I ended up in an Army Detainee Center in the first place.
About six years ago, there was an increase in murders, fueled by gangs who sold tobacco on the streets. The shooting death of a teenager in 1995 spraked massive public outrage against the violence. It was pointed out that more people were killed on the streetsd than in the Korean War of the early 1950's. It was pointed out that young people in inner city neighborhoods talked about what they would wear in their own funerals, as if they expected to die.
In response, President Patrick J. Buchanan declared martial law, and sent the U.S. Army into these neightborhoods he said were under seige, thus beginning the military operation known as Javier's Legacy. Military Occupation Zones were established, where the Army had complete authority. Crimes committed in those occupation zones were tried by military commissions.
I looked at the picture of Javier, the teenager whose shooting death led to martial law. and it turned out he was a duplicate of one of the relief workers I worked with in the previous world.
I continued doing more research into this world. I noted there was a nuclear power plant in Terminal Island. I hoped it does not blow its stack like its counterpart did in the previous world.
I went to have a spaghetti lunch at a fine Italian restaurant on Santa Monica Boulevard in Beverly Hills. I had not eaten in a restaurant like this for months. And the servings were huge. Complementary breadsticks were served along with the spaghetti. I was full by the time I finsihed. After that, I paid with a Discover Platinum Card, issued to one Colin Mallory.
In any event, I decided to head home. It was a long walk, and it did put some strain on my stomach, which was trying to digest my lunch, but after a few minutes, I reached my home-for-the-night on Hillcrest Drive.
I opened the door, abnd I saw a woman who appared in the wedding photo with the native Colin.
"Hello, Roxanne," I said.
"Colin," she said. "You taking a day off work?"
"Yeah," I replied. I kissed her, and then sat in front of the TV. "I went to the library and decided to have lunch by myself."
"By yourself?" she asked. She sounded as if she were suspecting soemthing. I wonder if she could suspect that her husband's counterpart from another dimension replaced him.
"Yes, by myself. What did you do?"
"I went to the country club with the girls, played some golf."
I went over to my study. I turned on the G4. Within minutes, Netscape was running, and I was in the 411 Web Site.
I looked up Quinn Mallory, and I found his number. It appeared he was living in San Mateo.
I dialed Quinn's number.
"Hello, this is Quinn," a voice said. "I'm not home now, but please leave a message and I'll call you back."
"This is Colin," I said. "I need to talk to you. It has something to do with parallel universes." I looked at my watch, and it was likely that I would be gone before Quinn could help me, if he could help me.
It was getting late. I had less than twenty-four hours on this Earth.
"Roxanne," I said to my counterpart's wife, "how about we go out to dinner?"
"Go out?" she asked. "With you? You haven't wanted to go out with me in a long time."
"What could be the harm?" I asked. "You don't seem to be too happy about me. Listen, I'm just asking you out to dinner, that's all."
So we went to a fancy steakhouse restaurant in downtown Beverly Hills. I drove there in my duplicate's Mercedes. I still remember how to drive.
I was wearing a suit, as were all the other men. The light was dim, and ony many of the tables there were candles. I saw a waiter weartring a red vest ov er a white shirt approach.
"Mr. Mallory," he said. "God to see you again."
"Good to see you."
"Who is this fair lady? I never seen you with her before."
"She is Mrs. Mallory," I truthfully said.
And so we ordered from our menus. I ordered filet mignon, since technically my duplicate would pay for this. I'll be gone next afternoon, so I won't be stuck with the bill.
"Colin," asked Roxanne, "are you having an affair?"
An affair? I wondered what sort of trouble my duplicate was in.
"No," I replied truthfully.
"Then who's Jennifer? She called our home several times, asking for you."
"For me?' I asked, sipping my water. "Exactly whom was she asking for?"
"You. Colin."
"Then she must be asking for a different Colin," I answered, which was definitely true.
Night had fallen on Beverly Hills. I had watched a Dodgers game on the television. There were so many channels, including the premiun channels. Of course, I would only be here until the next day.
I decided to take a shower. I removed my watch. The watch immediately read zero, as it does whenever I take it off. When I put it back on, I jhave to reset it so I will know how much time I have left.
I stripped off the rest of my clothes, and turned on the water in the shower. And let me say this, thje bathroom was the best I've ever been to in months. It was better than anything in the Chandler or the Dominion.
The warm water sprayed against my body as I lathered myself with Ivory soap.
Then I started feeling dizzy. It felt like if I was sliding.
Then I lost my sense of balance.
After regaining my balance, I noticed I was not being sprayed with water anymore. I was in a dimly lit room.
I wasn't supposed to slide until the next day! Was the watch malfunctioning? Now I slid to another world, and to top it off, I arrived here with nohing, buck naked!
I looked around, and I saw a Negro lady in front of some control panel or something. She was looking at me.
"Colin!" a male voice shouted out. I recognized that voice. It could only be him.
It was Rembrandt Brown.
"Rembrandt!" I shouted, looking at him. "Is that you?"
"Colin, is that really you?" he asked.
"Yes, it's me," I said. I also noticed Maggie Beckett in the room, as well as a young man whom I never seen before.
I walked over to greet them, when the Negro lady told me to stop.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"The field is what is keeping you here," she said. " I can only hold it for a minute. Once it's gone, you'll go back to where you came from."
"This is Diana Davis," said Rembrandt. "She joined us."
Now I remember. Another version of Diana Davis assembled the watch that I use to keep track of how much time I have until the next slide.
"what happened?" I asked.
"On my world, I was conducting an experiment, and your wormhole interefered," said Diana. "You became unstuck, and now youn slide from worlsd to world without a timer."
"I figured that part out already. Where's Quinn?"
Rembrandt, Maggie, and the strange fellow bowed their heads. "This is going to be hard to explain," said Rembrandt. "Quinn, is well, he's with us, but he's not available. You see"
"guys," said Diana, "this equipment won't maintain the field after ten seconds. Better say goodbye."
"Goodbye, Colin," said Rembrandt.
"Goodbye," said Maggie.
"Colin," said the stranger with them. "We'll get you back."
then I felt dizzy, and then felt myself being sprayed with water. I was back in the shower.
I went out and dried myself. I had returned to the same world I was yanked out of.
But I never felt better than I had since June. I knew that Rembradnt and Maggie were alive and well, and were trying to reunite with me. I hoped that weith the grace of God that I can rejoin them in my quest ot find my home world.
I dressed up, and then pout on my watch. I reset it so I will know how much time I have left.
I couldn't believe the answer.
The watch read that I have about ninety-five hours left until my next slide.