"Let me get this straight," I said, as I heard the revelation. "You three are from a parallel universe?"
"All of us in this building are from a parallel universe," said Angus Rickman."It will be a difficult concept to explain."
"I understand," I said. "I too am from a parallel universe. Not from yours, I think, unless there is a slidecage that redirects incoming wormholes."
"Slidecage?" asked Michael Hurley.
"Never mind. You said you had something to do with witnesses."
"Hurley and I are field agents for the Witness Security Agency, or WSA for short," said Rickman. "As you might guess from our name, we hide witnesses in federal and state criminal cases. We operate under the U.S. Department of Justice."
"U.S. You mean United States?"
"Well, yes. So you are familiar with the term."
"On this Earth, the Union disintegrated over eighty years ago."
"Last I've heard, the Union in my home world is going strong. Well, any way, let's see where I should begin. Apparently, sometime during the 1970's some guy in England was researching anti-gravity when he created a wormhole. It was discovered that this wormhole could be used for quantum translocation, which is what the science people call going to other versions of Earth. It became public knowledge, and the U.S. government decided to study it. The military explored some of these parallel universes. In 1982, the Department of Justice conducted a study of the feasibility of hiding criminal witnesses in parallel Earths. Congress approved, and the WSA began relocating witnesses to parallel Earths in 1984."
"I was relocated here in January," said Angela. "The WSA got me a job at Circus Circus as a bartender."
"We set up outposts on parallel Earths," said Rickman. "We set them up in places where we can operate with minimal interference from the outside world. When a witness is considered for quantum relocation, we review several worlds, making sure that no living duplicate exists on that particular world. The same goes for field agents; we make sure that none of them have any living duplicates on the world we are considering assigning them to. Angela here has no living duplicate, and there are no dangers for her, so she was sent here. We got her a job at the casino and got her an apartment."
"Why did you choose to settle her in Long Beach?" I asked.
"Angela was from Long Beach; we figured putting her in a familiar environment would ease the transition."
"How many worlds did you guys scout out?"
"I estimate about two hundred," said Rickman. "At least that's what I heard."
"The people at Cheyenne Mountain are still exploring new worlds," said Michael Hurley. "I was stationed there when I was in the Air Force before my discharge."
"So tell me about yourself," said Rickman.
So I told them about how my brother built a sliding generator, and how I explored parallel worlds with him. One day, I somehow got separated from him, and I ended up unstuck, which mneant I would slide from world to world without a timer.
"Interesting story," said Rickman. "You must have seen a lot of things."
"Yes, I am very experienced in traveling the multiverse. So what now? You mentioned that you couldn't relocate Angela to another Earth."
"Our technicians are still working on it," said Rickman. "As we said before, someone sent a bomb here which created an EMP and fried all of our computers. Given the fact that someone tried to murder Angela here, we suspect Van Dahl was behind this."
"Oh." I looked around and there were technicians in white coats. One of them, a Negro lady in her late thirties, spoke to Rickman.
"This is bad," said Rickman.
"What?" asked Angela.
"I'm Diana Davis, the head field technician," said the Negro lady.
"I take it you are not of this Earth," I said.
"Yes," she replied. "Anyway, the e-bomb fried all of the microchips in the computers."
"What of the wormhole generator?" I asked.
"You mean the quantum translocation drive? It works perfectly fine, but we need the computers to direct the wormhole to the proper world. The microchips on this world are too primitive for our purposes-microchips were only on the market here for nine years."
"Well, that should not be such a problem," I said. "I mean, once the people back home find out they lost contact with you, they'll send someone here."
"It could be days before we hear from them," said Rickman. "Usually we do not receive communication from them except at the beginning of each month and when they need to bring a witness to court. Since we can not contact them, I do not expect them to try to contact us until Thursday evening, the day before Angela here has to testify before a grand jury."
"So just keep here here until someone arrives from your world."
"Except we are dealing with someone with access to quantum translocation. He sent an e-bomb last time. The next time he could send a thermite bomb."
"And we have no way of contacting our superiors back home and informing them of this development," added Michael Hurley. "We are now alone."
I went back to the conference room. It was empty now. There was a newspaper on the desk, and wall maps on the walls.
I took a look at the newspaper which was the Los Angeles Times. It was dated April 1, 2000. A quick browsing revelaed that this newspaper was from Angela's world. There was an article about U.S. President Condoleeza Rice meeting with former U.S. President John Glenn.
I examined the two wall maps. They looked very similar at first, for they are both Thomas Brothers maps of Los Angeles and Orange Counties, and the grid of streets and highways appear similar. Indeed, they were both published in 1996.
But they were maps of corresponsing locations from two different worlds. I could tell which map was the map from this world as the one from Angela's world.
For one thing, the map from Angela's world had more streets. It also had more freeways. As I suspected, Angela's version of Los Angeles and Orange Counties had a more extensive freeway system. I also noticed there were Interstate and U.S. highways in Angela's world, while there were only California Republic highways on this world.
Still, the locations of the cities as well as the layout of the streets and highways were similar. My brother Quinn would call this a case of quantum interference.
The Long Beach Freeway existed on Angela's world, and its route designation was Interstate 710. It corresponded to California Highway 15 on this world.
Another freeway that passed through Long Beach in Angela's world was the San Diego Freeway, which was Interstate 405. It went from San Fernando to Irvine. The portion north of Torrance corresponded to the portion of California Highway 7 from Torrance to San Fernando.
The Santa Monica and San Bernardino Freeways were complete in Angela's wordl, and they were designated as Interstate 10. Their counterparts on this world had not been constructed yet, and the proposed designation was California Highway 6.
There was a Highway 10 on this world, it corresponded to Interstate 105.
The Harbor Freeway existed on both worlds, but had different route numbers. Here it was California 11, on angela's world it was Interstate 110.
Interstate 605 in Angela's world ran near the San Gabriel River, just like California 35 does in this world. Now I knew what Angela meant by the 605.
"Doing some studying?" asked Angela. I turned and looked at her.
"Well, being an interdimensional traveler, I tend to make comparisons between worlds," I said.
"You want to know what my world's like?"
"I've learned a lot of things about this world; I might as well learn about yours."
"Well, there are more freeways from where I live, as you can tell from those maps. It wasn't too hard to learn how to get around here, since the street layout is similar. They don't have the Red Cars on my world, but they have those high-speed commuter trains like the one that runs down the middle of the 405. The Internet is more developed on my world, while here I don't know if the Internet even exists. Here, green lights mean go and red lights mean stop, while it's the other way around on my world. Here, tobacco is legal, and we can go to casinos in Long Beach, while on my world, you have to go to an Indian reservation or Las Vegas, and it's against the law to even possess tobacco."
"I heard you once dealt tobacco."
"Yeah, it was stupid. I got hooked on smoking when I was twelve. I even had to steal to support my habit. Eventaully, I started out dealing, and I made more money than I needed to pay for cigarettes. a lot more money. I even bought a BMW with this awesome stereo system. Everything seemed to be going fine until I was stupid enough to sell cigarettes to a undercover FBI. The feds gave me a choice-either testify before them or go to prison. I decided to testify. That was when I met Mr. Rickman and Mr. Hurley. They told me about this quantum relocation thing; I'm not into science and all I know is that I could go to another kind of Earth. After then, I jumped into a vortex and I ended up here. They set me up at Circus Circus and you know the rest."
"Do you know anything about this Galen van Dahl?" I asked.
"The feds told me he was the head of all the tobacco gangs. He started dealing tobacco when he was in the Marines, and he built his organization. They say he's ruthless. He's also well-connected; his front does business with city of Long Beach. So tell me about your travels."
So I did. I told her about myself and my experiences for the next hour or so.
Angela yawned. "Well, you've had a pretty interesting life. I mean, I guess I understand some of what you're going through, what with living in a strange land, away from family and friends."
"Well, I guess what we both should do is take this thing one day at a time."
After that, I decided to go to sleep right there.
The chair in the conference room was not exactly the most comfortable place to sleep. I was a little tired when I woke up. I walked around to familiarize myself with the place. In addition to the conference room and the room with the sliding generator, there were offices, storehouses, and a locked room with a sigh indicating it as an armory. I saw Angela sleeping on a couch next to Rickman's office.
"Nice to see you're up," said Angus Rickman as he approached, dressed in a polo shirt and jeans.
"Well, I'm a light sleeper," I said. "I guess it was somthing picked up from my years of sliding. I hope you have breakfast."
"We have stuff in the dining room."
So we both went to the dining room. It had tables and benches counters. I saw a coffeepot and a Kenmore microwave oven. There were less than a handful of people already there, eating breakfast.
I poured some Kellogg's Frosted Flakes into a styrofoam bowl and then ate it. to wash it down, I decided to prepare some coffee. The dining room had some Folger's instant coffee; I mixed the coffee with water and then heated it in the microwave oven.
"We don't have a regular cooking staff here," said Rickman as I sipped my coffee. "Most of the food we have here is canned or dried. Occasionally, we might buy stuff from the world."
"I doubt American dollars are accepted here," I said, remembering what the California Republic currency looks like.
"Oh, we have a small printing press where we can create counterfeit money. The mint in this world isn't as sophisticated as the U.S. Mint back home. Only Hurley or I could authorize the use of the counterfeit currency, and we only spend less than a hundred dollars at a time. We sure don't want the California Treasury Department to begin an investigation."
I sipped the last of my coffee from the styrofoam cup. "I guess we'll have to wait," I said.
"Our location here has been compromised," said Rickman. "Van Dahl knows where our outpost in this world is, and he may even sell his knowledge to others. We're going to have to shut down this outpost."
"Are you gonna set up another outpost here?"
"We had a hell of a time setting this place up, what with buying the property and all. But we have other witnesses besides Angela hiding out here. We're gonna have to choose between relocating them to another world and setting up shop elsewhere. I suppose we can look into relocating them, as soon as I get home, which won't happen unless someone from there comes here."
"Well, maybe there's another outpost here. Do you know if the military or the CIA has an outpost here?"
"I know the military does not have an outpost, and I would not know where to look even if the CIA had one here."
I sat down on the bench. I looked outside, and I noticed that it was raining pretty hard. I saw a Sony color TV and I pressed the power switch, but there was nothing.
"The e-bomb that destroyed our quantum transcommunication stuff also fried the TV," said Rickman.
I looked at the clock and it was 7:55. It did give me an idea. "It just occurred to me," I said. "If Van Dahl or his people came here, they must have timers."
"Well, yes," said Rickman. "I don't think Van Dahl would have set up an outpost on a parallel Earth complete with its own QTD."
"If we can find them and grab their timers, we can then have a way home."
"And it would lead us right back to where Van Dahl has his QTD. Come with me."
And so Rickmna led me to a room marked RECORDS.
"Before we relocate witnesses, not only do we investigate potential duplicates of these witnesses, but of those they are testifying against. Good thing we have paper records." Rickman opened the drawer of a Hon filing cabinet. "Here is Van Dahl's file. It says here that his duplicate here resides in Long Beach and works as an engineer at the Toyota plant in Carson."
"So?"
"So if Galen van Dahl is here, he might have murdered his duplicate and taken his place. He'd have access to his duplicate's bank account and house. I think it's time we did a stakeout."
And so that's what we did. I went to a white Honda van parked outside. Apparently it had been retrofitted with the surveillance technology from Angela's world. Joining me and Rickman was Michael Hurley and some blond haired man named Shays.
"Did that bomb ruin the van's equipment?" I asked.
"The EMP only fried the electronics inside the building," said Michael Hurley. "The van was parked outside."
Rickman started the van and put it into gear. Soon, we were heading south of Highway 35, the windshield wipers wiping the rain from the windshield. After a few minutes, we reached the junction with Highway 18 in Hawaiian Gardens. Rickman made a right turn, and a few miles later we were in Long Beach.
Rickman pulled to the curb on California Avenue and he pointed toward a house.
"That is the native Van Dahl residence," said Rickman.
"I see two people in there," said Shays, looking at a Sony color monitor mounted on the wall of the van. I looked and could see images of people.
"So what?" I asked.
"We wait," said Rickman. "We tail him to see if he's the Van Dahl from this world or from ours."
After a few minutes of sitting inside the van, I saw the garage in the Van Dahl residence open. A car backed out into the street. I noticed Shays was checking the monitor intentlty.
"Sir, I think that's Mr. van Dahl driving."
"Let's tail him," said Hurley.
And so we did. Rickman put the Honda in gear and followed him from a distance. We turned right on Wardlow Road and followed Van Dahl's car. Hurley was in the front passenger seat reading a native road map.
"Wardlow should go right to Carson, just as it does on our world," he said.
"You know, I wish the 405 existed here," said Rickman.
"How do you like your job?" I asked him. "I mean, it must be interesting going to other worlds and stuff."
"Well, there was this incident back in the early days of our off-world operations," said Rickman. "On ym first assignment, I was arrested for a series of murders. It turned out my duplicate was a suspect. I was in jail for a week before the WSA busted me out. Then I was interrogated for three more days, to see if they had their Angus Rickman and not the one wanted for murder."
"Well, it happened to me too," I said. "I've been arrested for crimes my duplicate committed. So whatever became of that case?"
"Last I heard, the real Angus Rickman was caught and was on death row."
We continued following the car. Soon we were going through a rural area, with farmland on both sides of the road. I saw a billboard for the Circus Circus Hotel and Casino. A few yards later, I saw another billboard advertising a car called the Toyota Samurai.
Soon we enounctered a sign welcoming us to the city of Carson. We entered an industrial neighborhood. We saw Van Dahl's car make a left turn on a street called Bonita.
Not far from the intersection, I saw a huge building with the word TOYOTA on it; it can only be the Toyota manufacturing plant.
"Well, Van Dahl had pulled in to the parking lot," said Rickman. "If our version of him is here, then he seems to be getting into the life of his duplicate.
"Well, I guess we should wait," said Hurley.
"Will Angela be okay?" i asked.
"We have security over there," said Shays. "Let's just hope Van Dahl does not send an explosive bomb."
Rickman turned on the radio and played this world's music. And we just sat in the van and waited. I then noticed the rain gave way to a sprinkle.
A catering truck pulled into the parking lot of the plant.
"Well, the workers are out to lunch now," said Hurley.
"Perhaps one of us could take a closer look at Van Dahl," said Rickman.
"I should do it," I said. "If Van Dahl knew where your hideout was, he might know your identity. He would not know me, unless my duplicate is also in your agency."
"There's men's cologne in the bag," said Hurley. "You can start by selling it."
I got out of the Honda van and walked to the parking lot of the Toyota plant. I saw people ordering food from the catering truck. I noticed that about half of the factory's workers were Mexicans.
There were some tables with umbrellas over them; I guessed that the manager was nice enough to put such umbrellas in case of rain.
I saw Galen van Dahl sitting at one of the tables, talking to one of the Mexicans. I watched from a distance. I sawe that he was speaking casually to the guy, as if he knew him for a while. I decided to approach.
"Excuse me, sirs," i said. "I'm here selling this cologne."
"No thanks," said Van Dahl. "We're not interested."
I turned and then listened. I noticed Van Dahl using engineering terms as if he understood them. A seed of doubt wass planted in my mind.
Anyway, I decided to go try to make my sales pitch to the other workers. About a third of them only spoke Spanish, but that was okay since I could speak Spanish. and I actually made a few sales.
After that, I went back to the van. "Did you find anything?" asked Rickman.
"Well, I made about thirty dollars," I said. "And I saw him talking to his coworkers. It seemed as if they knew each other."
"He could havwe arrived here last week," suggested Michael Hurley.
"Well, we'd better get lunch," said Shays.
And so we bought hamburgers and french fries and Cokes from the nearest McDonald's. We continued the surveillance for a few more hours. It was rather boring; I even watched some of the local TV.
After that, I saw some cars leave rthe parking lot while some of the workers left on foot. We spotted Van Dahl's car. Rickman started the van and followed.
I looked at the car ahead. I saw a traffic signal turn red, and the car slowed to a stop. Something was wrong.
"Mr. Rickman," I said, "did you ever have any trouble adjusting to life in this world when you were first assigned here?"
"Well," he said, "I had trouble with the traffic laws the first month or so I was here. You see, here red means stop. I ran a few red lights the first few times I drove on this world. I eventually got used to that." He looked ahead at Van Dahl's car as it stopped at another red light. "Oh no."
"What?" asked Shays.
"I think the man we're following is from this world," said Rickman.
"How do you know?" asked Hurley.
I then remembered something Angela told me about her world. "...the other way around on my world," she had said, concerning traffic signals.
"Here, red means stop and green means go," I said. "Van Dahl stops at the red lights without any trouble. He drives like he's from here, and the reason he does is because he is from here."
"Well, back to square one," said Rickman.
We went back to the outpost in Santa Fe Springs and discussed the situation. Angela was already awake and attending.
"Van Dahl might not have taken over his duplicate's life," said Rickman. "He may still try to use his duplicate's finances. He will very likely need the local currency to operate here, and getting money from his duplicate's savings account would do the trick."
"We can access bank records with our computers," said Michael Hurley. "The computer networks here are not as advanced, so we should not have trouble hacking in."
"Except that all the computers here were fried by that bomb," I said.
"Oh, I forgot all about it."
"There must be something we can do," said Angela. "We can't risk waiting for someone back home to come look for us. The people trying to kill me also have a way home."
"Well, young lady," Rickman said to Angela, "the best thing you can do is to stay here. We have armed security agents ready to protect you."
"We have two other witnesses relocated here," said Michael Hurley. "Do we bring them here?"
"Van Dahl is only after her. The others should be safe."
Then all of the agents left. Angela just sat there. for a minute, the only sound was the raindrops striking the ceiling window.
"You know, it sucks being stuck here," she said.
"I've been in that situation."
Angela looked up at the ceiling window and stared at the rain raining down. "All of this occurred because I said yes when someone offered me a cigarette so many years ago. Just after I turned thirteen, I stole a plasma TV from the house of a friend I knew since elementary school. It took only two weeks for me to spend all of that on cigarettes. I got caught by the police when I was fourteen and the juvenile court put me on probation. My probation officer was taking bribes from gangs, and he introduced me to dealing tobacco. I know how bad a person I was. I was a thief andliar and a seller of poison."
"Did you ever go to church?" I asked.
"I used to."
"Well, all of us have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Jesus Christ came down from Heaven and died to pay the price for our sins. He later rose from the dead and is now in Heaven, watching over us. I know that Jesus is watching over me, and I know He is watching over you too. I believe He guided me here to save your life."
"That's right," said Angela. "You pushed me out of the way just before that guy opened fire."
"This wasn't the first time I helped someone in need during my travels. The Lord did not send me here to save your life only so you can be killed a few days later by these thugs. Remember one thing. We may stray from the path to Christ, but if we accept Him as our Saviour, then we will be forgiven and He will be on our side."
"You sure are into Christian stuff."
"Well, Christ is all I have now."
Anyway, I headed back to the Circus Circus to begin my shift as a blackjack dealer. I once again dealt out the cards to the casino's patrons, collecting bets and paying out winnings. All this time, I kept an eye out for the gold-toothed Negro who tried to kill Angela. He and his boss must know Angela worked here, and may try to stake the area out. I hoped a message from my guardian angel will be transmitted to me to give me a clue on how to find these people.
I got my break, and I immediately went for the telephone and I dialed the number for the WSA safehouse in Santa Fe Springs.
"Hello, is Angela there?" I asked.
"One moment," replied the secretary.
"Hello," said Angela.
"it's me, Colin," I said. "you okay."
"Well, I'm bored since there's no working radio or TV, but other than that, I'm still alive. Nobody's gonna break in, not with these guys with guns and lasers."
"Well, I've been keeping an eye out for them during my shift, but I haven't seen our gold-toothed friend. Has anyone from your world made contact?"
"Not yet."
"Well, I'll check up on you after my shift is over."
so I went back to the blackjack table and resumed my work. I dealt a few more hands.
then I noticed someone in the crowd. It was a young woman with blond hair, playing blackjack a few tables away. At first I thought that was Angela, and I had wondered why she would go back to the casino rather than stay with Rickman and the others, but she was a bit taller than Angela.
Still, she did look familiar, as I have seen her before. She may be a patron of the casino, or even someone whose duplicate I have seen and remembered in a parallel Earth.
I had this feeling that she was someone important. She then left the blackjack table; I decided to follow her.
"Where are you going?" asked one of the blackjack players at my table. "You haven't finished yet!"
I ignoired him and focused on the woman. She went to the cashier's cage to trade in the casino chips for money, and then she walked. She appeared to be headed for the parking structure. I followed from a distance. I could not see her face clearly due to the fact that the casino was packed with gamblers. Thwen I saw her meet up with this big Negro man.
It was the same man that had tried to kill Angela yesterday.
They seemed to be walking together. I could tell they were having a conversation. They soon left the casino and entered the parking structure. The two of them walked down this incline and then got into a car, a gray Toyota Camry.
I made sure to record the license plate. I made sure to burn the license plate number in my memory. I hoped this would give me an important clue. This could be my only lead.
"All of us in this building are from a parallel universe," said Angus Rickman."It will be a difficult concept to explain."
"I understand," I said. "I too am from a parallel universe. Not from yours, I think, unless there is a slidecage that redirects incoming wormholes."
"Slidecage?" asked Michael Hurley.
"Never mind. You said you had something to do with witnesses."
"Hurley and I are field agents for the Witness Security Agency, or WSA for short," said Rickman. "As you might guess from our name, we hide witnesses in federal and state criminal cases. We operate under the U.S. Department of Justice."
"U.S. You mean United States?"
"Well, yes. So you are familiar with the term."
"On this Earth, the Union disintegrated over eighty years ago."
"Last I've heard, the Union in my home world is going strong. Well, any way, let's see where I should begin. Apparently, sometime during the 1970's some guy in England was researching anti-gravity when he created a wormhole. It was discovered that this wormhole could be used for quantum translocation, which is what the science people call going to other versions of Earth. It became public knowledge, and the U.S. government decided to study it. The military explored some of these parallel universes. In 1982, the Department of Justice conducted a study of the feasibility of hiding criminal witnesses in parallel Earths. Congress approved, and the WSA began relocating witnesses to parallel Earths in 1984."
"I was relocated here in January," said Angela. "The WSA got me a job at Circus Circus as a bartender."
"We set up outposts on parallel Earths," said Rickman. "We set them up in places where we can operate with minimal interference from the outside world. When a witness is considered for quantum relocation, we review several worlds, making sure that no living duplicate exists on that particular world. The same goes for field agents; we make sure that none of them have any living duplicates on the world we are considering assigning them to. Angela here has no living duplicate, and there are no dangers for her, so she was sent here. We got her a job at the casino and got her an apartment."
"Why did you choose to settle her in Long Beach?" I asked.
"Angela was from Long Beach; we figured putting her in a familiar environment would ease the transition."
"How many worlds did you guys scout out?"
"I estimate about two hundred," said Rickman. "At least that's what I heard."
"The people at Cheyenne Mountain are still exploring new worlds," said Michael Hurley. "I was stationed there when I was in the Air Force before my discharge."
"So tell me about yourself," said Rickman.
So I told them about how my brother built a sliding generator, and how I explored parallel worlds with him. One day, I somehow got separated from him, and I ended up unstuck, which mneant I would slide from world to world without a timer.
"Interesting story," said Rickman. "You must have seen a lot of things."
"Yes, I am very experienced in traveling the multiverse. So what now? You mentioned that you couldn't relocate Angela to another Earth."
"Our technicians are still working on it," said Rickman. "As we said before, someone sent a bomb here which created an EMP and fried all of our computers. Given the fact that someone tried to murder Angela here, we suspect Van Dahl was behind this."
"Oh." I looked around and there were technicians in white coats. One of them, a Negro lady in her late thirties, spoke to Rickman.
"This is bad," said Rickman.
"What?" asked Angela.
"I'm Diana Davis, the head field technician," said the Negro lady.
"I take it you are not of this Earth," I said.
"Yes," she replied. "Anyway, the e-bomb fried all of the microchips in the computers."
"What of the wormhole generator?" I asked.
"You mean the quantum translocation drive? It works perfectly fine, but we need the computers to direct the wormhole to the proper world. The microchips on this world are too primitive for our purposes-microchips were only on the market here for nine years."
"Well, that should not be such a problem," I said. "I mean, once the people back home find out they lost contact with you, they'll send someone here."
"It could be days before we hear from them," said Rickman. "Usually we do not receive communication from them except at the beginning of each month and when they need to bring a witness to court. Since we can not contact them, I do not expect them to try to contact us until Thursday evening, the day before Angela here has to testify before a grand jury."
"So just keep here here until someone arrives from your world."
"Except we are dealing with someone with access to quantum translocation. He sent an e-bomb last time. The next time he could send a thermite bomb."
"And we have no way of contacting our superiors back home and informing them of this development," added Michael Hurley. "We are now alone."
I went back to the conference room. It was empty now. There was a newspaper on the desk, and wall maps on the walls.
I took a look at the newspaper which was the Los Angeles Times. It was dated April 1, 2000. A quick browsing revelaed that this newspaper was from Angela's world. There was an article about U.S. President Condoleeza Rice meeting with former U.S. President John Glenn.
I examined the two wall maps. They looked very similar at first, for they are both Thomas Brothers maps of Los Angeles and Orange Counties, and the grid of streets and highways appear similar. Indeed, they were both published in 1996.
But they were maps of corresponsing locations from two different worlds. I could tell which map was the map from this world as the one from Angela's world.
For one thing, the map from Angela's world had more streets. It also had more freeways. As I suspected, Angela's version of Los Angeles and Orange Counties had a more extensive freeway system. I also noticed there were Interstate and U.S. highways in Angela's world, while there were only California Republic highways on this world.
Still, the locations of the cities as well as the layout of the streets and highways were similar. My brother Quinn would call this a case of quantum interference.
The Long Beach Freeway existed on Angela's world, and its route designation was Interstate 710. It corresponded to California Highway 15 on this world.
Another freeway that passed through Long Beach in Angela's world was the San Diego Freeway, which was Interstate 405. It went from San Fernando to Irvine. The portion north of Torrance corresponded to the portion of California Highway 7 from Torrance to San Fernando.
The Santa Monica and San Bernardino Freeways were complete in Angela's wordl, and they were designated as Interstate 10. Their counterparts on this world had not been constructed yet, and the proposed designation was California Highway 6.
There was a Highway 10 on this world, it corresponded to Interstate 105.
The Harbor Freeway existed on both worlds, but had different route numbers. Here it was California 11, on angela's world it was Interstate 110.
Interstate 605 in Angela's world ran near the San Gabriel River, just like California 35 does in this world. Now I knew what Angela meant by the 605.
"Doing some studying?" asked Angela. I turned and looked at her.
"Well, being an interdimensional traveler, I tend to make comparisons between worlds," I said.
"You want to know what my world's like?"
"I've learned a lot of things about this world; I might as well learn about yours."
"Well, there are more freeways from where I live, as you can tell from those maps. It wasn't too hard to learn how to get around here, since the street layout is similar. They don't have the Red Cars on my world, but they have those high-speed commuter trains like the one that runs down the middle of the 405. The Internet is more developed on my world, while here I don't know if the Internet even exists. Here, green lights mean go and red lights mean stop, while it's the other way around on my world. Here, tobacco is legal, and we can go to casinos in Long Beach, while on my world, you have to go to an Indian reservation or Las Vegas, and it's against the law to even possess tobacco."
"I heard you once dealt tobacco."
"Yeah, it was stupid. I got hooked on smoking when I was twelve. I even had to steal to support my habit. Eventaully, I started out dealing, and I made more money than I needed to pay for cigarettes. a lot more money. I even bought a BMW with this awesome stereo system. Everything seemed to be going fine until I was stupid enough to sell cigarettes to a undercover FBI. The feds gave me a choice-either testify before them or go to prison. I decided to testify. That was when I met Mr. Rickman and Mr. Hurley. They told me about this quantum relocation thing; I'm not into science and all I know is that I could go to another kind of Earth. After then, I jumped into a vortex and I ended up here. They set me up at Circus Circus and you know the rest."
"Do you know anything about this Galen van Dahl?" I asked.
"The feds told me he was the head of all the tobacco gangs. He started dealing tobacco when he was in the Marines, and he built his organization. They say he's ruthless. He's also well-connected; his front does business with city of Long Beach. So tell me about your travels."
So I did. I told her about myself and my experiences for the next hour or so.
Angela yawned. "Well, you've had a pretty interesting life. I mean, I guess I understand some of what you're going through, what with living in a strange land, away from family and friends."
"Well, I guess what we both should do is take this thing one day at a time."
After that, I decided to go to sleep right there.
The chair in the conference room was not exactly the most comfortable place to sleep. I was a little tired when I woke up. I walked around to familiarize myself with the place. In addition to the conference room and the room with the sliding generator, there were offices, storehouses, and a locked room with a sigh indicating it as an armory. I saw Angela sleeping on a couch next to Rickman's office.
"Nice to see you're up," said Angus Rickman as he approached, dressed in a polo shirt and jeans.
"Well, I'm a light sleeper," I said. "I guess it was somthing picked up from my years of sliding. I hope you have breakfast."
"We have stuff in the dining room."
So we both went to the dining room. It had tables and benches counters. I saw a coffeepot and a Kenmore microwave oven. There were less than a handful of people already there, eating breakfast.
I poured some Kellogg's Frosted Flakes into a styrofoam bowl and then ate it. to wash it down, I decided to prepare some coffee. The dining room had some Folger's instant coffee; I mixed the coffee with water and then heated it in the microwave oven.
"We don't have a regular cooking staff here," said Rickman as I sipped my coffee. "Most of the food we have here is canned or dried. Occasionally, we might buy stuff from the world."
"I doubt American dollars are accepted here," I said, remembering what the California Republic currency looks like.
"Oh, we have a small printing press where we can create counterfeit money. The mint in this world isn't as sophisticated as the U.S. Mint back home. Only Hurley or I could authorize the use of the counterfeit currency, and we only spend less than a hundred dollars at a time. We sure don't want the California Treasury Department to begin an investigation."
I sipped the last of my coffee from the styrofoam cup. "I guess we'll have to wait," I said.
"Our location here has been compromised," said Rickman. "Van Dahl knows where our outpost in this world is, and he may even sell his knowledge to others. We're going to have to shut down this outpost."
"Are you gonna set up another outpost here?"
"We had a hell of a time setting this place up, what with buying the property and all. But we have other witnesses besides Angela hiding out here. We're gonna have to choose between relocating them to another world and setting up shop elsewhere. I suppose we can look into relocating them, as soon as I get home, which won't happen unless someone from there comes here."
"Well, maybe there's another outpost here. Do you know if the military or the CIA has an outpost here?"
"I know the military does not have an outpost, and I would not know where to look even if the CIA had one here."
I sat down on the bench. I looked outside, and I noticed that it was raining pretty hard. I saw a Sony color TV and I pressed the power switch, but there was nothing.
"The e-bomb that destroyed our quantum transcommunication stuff also fried the TV," said Rickman.
I looked at the clock and it was 7:55. It did give me an idea. "It just occurred to me," I said. "If Van Dahl or his people came here, they must have timers."
"Well, yes," said Rickman. "I don't think Van Dahl would have set up an outpost on a parallel Earth complete with its own QTD."
"If we can find them and grab their timers, we can then have a way home."
"And it would lead us right back to where Van Dahl has his QTD. Come with me."
And so Rickmna led me to a room marked RECORDS.
"Before we relocate witnesses, not only do we investigate potential duplicates of these witnesses, but of those they are testifying against. Good thing we have paper records." Rickman opened the drawer of a Hon filing cabinet. "Here is Van Dahl's file. It says here that his duplicate here resides in Long Beach and works as an engineer at the Toyota plant in Carson."
"So?"
"So if Galen van Dahl is here, he might have murdered his duplicate and taken his place. He'd have access to his duplicate's bank account and house. I think it's time we did a stakeout."
And so that's what we did. I went to a white Honda van parked outside. Apparently it had been retrofitted with the surveillance technology from Angela's world. Joining me and Rickman was Michael Hurley and some blond haired man named Shays.
"Did that bomb ruin the van's equipment?" I asked.
"The EMP only fried the electronics inside the building," said Michael Hurley. "The van was parked outside."
Rickman started the van and put it into gear. Soon, we were heading south of Highway 35, the windshield wipers wiping the rain from the windshield. After a few minutes, we reached the junction with Highway 18 in Hawaiian Gardens. Rickman made a right turn, and a few miles later we were in Long Beach.
Rickman pulled to the curb on California Avenue and he pointed toward a house.
"That is the native Van Dahl residence," said Rickman.
"I see two people in there," said Shays, looking at a Sony color monitor mounted on the wall of the van. I looked and could see images of people.
"So what?" I asked.
"We wait," said Rickman. "We tail him to see if he's the Van Dahl from this world or from ours."
After a few minutes of sitting inside the van, I saw the garage in the Van Dahl residence open. A car backed out into the street. I noticed Shays was checking the monitor intentlty.
"Sir, I think that's Mr. van Dahl driving."
"Let's tail him," said Hurley.
And so we did. Rickman put the Honda in gear and followed him from a distance. We turned right on Wardlow Road and followed Van Dahl's car. Hurley was in the front passenger seat reading a native road map.
"Wardlow should go right to Carson, just as it does on our world," he said.
"You know, I wish the 405 existed here," said Rickman.
"How do you like your job?" I asked him. "I mean, it must be interesting going to other worlds and stuff."
"Well, there was this incident back in the early days of our off-world operations," said Rickman. "On ym first assignment, I was arrested for a series of murders. It turned out my duplicate was a suspect. I was in jail for a week before the WSA busted me out. Then I was interrogated for three more days, to see if they had their Angus Rickman and not the one wanted for murder."
"Well, it happened to me too," I said. "I've been arrested for crimes my duplicate committed. So whatever became of that case?"
"Last I heard, the real Angus Rickman was caught and was on death row."
We continued following the car. Soon we were going through a rural area, with farmland on both sides of the road. I saw a billboard for the Circus Circus Hotel and Casino. A few yards later, I saw another billboard advertising a car called the Toyota Samurai.
Soon we enounctered a sign welcoming us to the city of Carson. We entered an industrial neighborhood. We saw Van Dahl's car make a left turn on a street called Bonita.
Not far from the intersection, I saw a huge building with the word TOYOTA on it; it can only be the Toyota manufacturing plant.
"Well, Van Dahl had pulled in to the parking lot," said Rickman. "If our version of him is here, then he seems to be getting into the life of his duplicate.
"Well, I guess we should wait," said Hurley.
"Will Angela be okay?" i asked.
"We have security over there," said Shays. "Let's just hope Van Dahl does not send an explosive bomb."
Rickman turned on the radio and played this world's music. And we just sat in the van and waited. I then noticed the rain gave way to a sprinkle.
A catering truck pulled into the parking lot of the plant.
"Well, the workers are out to lunch now," said Hurley.
"Perhaps one of us could take a closer look at Van Dahl," said Rickman.
"I should do it," I said. "If Van Dahl knew where your hideout was, he might know your identity. He would not know me, unless my duplicate is also in your agency."
"There's men's cologne in the bag," said Hurley. "You can start by selling it."
I got out of the Honda van and walked to the parking lot of the Toyota plant. I saw people ordering food from the catering truck. I noticed that about half of the factory's workers were Mexicans.
There were some tables with umbrellas over them; I guessed that the manager was nice enough to put such umbrellas in case of rain.
I saw Galen van Dahl sitting at one of the tables, talking to one of the Mexicans. I watched from a distance. I sawe that he was speaking casually to the guy, as if he knew him for a while. I decided to approach.
"Excuse me, sirs," i said. "I'm here selling this cologne."
"No thanks," said Van Dahl. "We're not interested."
I turned and then listened. I noticed Van Dahl using engineering terms as if he understood them. A seed of doubt wass planted in my mind.
Anyway, I decided to go try to make my sales pitch to the other workers. About a third of them only spoke Spanish, but that was okay since I could speak Spanish. and I actually made a few sales.
After that, I went back to the van. "Did you find anything?" asked Rickman.
"Well, I made about thirty dollars," I said. "And I saw him talking to his coworkers. It seemed as if they knew each other."
"He could havwe arrived here last week," suggested Michael Hurley.
"Well, we'd better get lunch," said Shays.
And so we bought hamburgers and french fries and Cokes from the nearest McDonald's. We continued the surveillance for a few more hours. It was rather boring; I even watched some of the local TV.
After that, I saw some cars leave rthe parking lot while some of the workers left on foot. We spotted Van Dahl's car. Rickman started the van and followed.
I looked at the car ahead. I saw a traffic signal turn red, and the car slowed to a stop. Something was wrong.
"Mr. Rickman," I said, "did you ever have any trouble adjusting to life in this world when you were first assigned here?"
"Well," he said, "I had trouble with the traffic laws the first month or so I was here. You see, here red means stop. I ran a few red lights the first few times I drove on this world. I eventually got used to that." He looked ahead at Van Dahl's car as it stopped at another red light. "Oh no."
"What?" asked Shays.
"I think the man we're following is from this world," said Rickman.
"How do you know?" asked Hurley.
I then remembered something Angela told me about her world. "...the other way around on my world," she had said, concerning traffic signals.
"Here, red means stop and green means go," I said. "Van Dahl stops at the red lights without any trouble. He drives like he's from here, and the reason he does is because he is from here."
"Well, back to square one," said Rickman.
We went back to the outpost in Santa Fe Springs and discussed the situation. Angela was already awake and attending.
"Van Dahl might not have taken over his duplicate's life," said Rickman. "He may still try to use his duplicate's finances. He will very likely need the local currency to operate here, and getting money from his duplicate's savings account would do the trick."
"We can access bank records with our computers," said Michael Hurley. "The computer networks here are not as advanced, so we should not have trouble hacking in."
"Except that all the computers here were fried by that bomb," I said.
"Oh, I forgot all about it."
"There must be something we can do," said Angela. "We can't risk waiting for someone back home to come look for us. The people trying to kill me also have a way home."
"Well, young lady," Rickman said to Angela, "the best thing you can do is to stay here. We have armed security agents ready to protect you."
"We have two other witnesses relocated here," said Michael Hurley. "Do we bring them here?"
"Van Dahl is only after her. The others should be safe."
Then all of the agents left. Angela just sat there. for a minute, the only sound was the raindrops striking the ceiling window.
"You know, it sucks being stuck here," she said.
"I've been in that situation."
Angela looked up at the ceiling window and stared at the rain raining down. "All of this occurred because I said yes when someone offered me a cigarette so many years ago. Just after I turned thirteen, I stole a plasma TV from the house of a friend I knew since elementary school. It took only two weeks for me to spend all of that on cigarettes. I got caught by the police when I was fourteen and the juvenile court put me on probation. My probation officer was taking bribes from gangs, and he introduced me to dealing tobacco. I know how bad a person I was. I was a thief andliar and a seller of poison."
"Did you ever go to church?" I asked.
"I used to."
"Well, all of us have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Jesus Christ came down from Heaven and died to pay the price for our sins. He later rose from the dead and is now in Heaven, watching over us. I know that Jesus is watching over me, and I know He is watching over you too. I believe He guided me here to save your life."
"That's right," said Angela. "You pushed me out of the way just before that guy opened fire."
"This wasn't the first time I helped someone in need during my travels. The Lord did not send me here to save your life only so you can be killed a few days later by these thugs. Remember one thing. We may stray from the path to Christ, but if we accept Him as our Saviour, then we will be forgiven and He will be on our side."
"You sure are into Christian stuff."
"Well, Christ is all I have now."
Anyway, I headed back to the Circus Circus to begin my shift as a blackjack dealer. I once again dealt out the cards to the casino's patrons, collecting bets and paying out winnings. All this time, I kept an eye out for the gold-toothed Negro who tried to kill Angela. He and his boss must know Angela worked here, and may try to stake the area out. I hoped a message from my guardian angel will be transmitted to me to give me a clue on how to find these people.
I got my break, and I immediately went for the telephone and I dialed the number for the WSA safehouse in Santa Fe Springs.
"Hello, is Angela there?" I asked.
"One moment," replied the secretary.
"Hello," said Angela.
"it's me, Colin," I said. "you okay."
"Well, I'm bored since there's no working radio or TV, but other than that, I'm still alive. Nobody's gonna break in, not with these guys with guns and lasers."
"Well, I've been keeping an eye out for them during my shift, but I haven't seen our gold-toothed friend. Has anyone from your world made contact?"
"Not yet."
"Well, I'll check up on you after my shift is over."
so I went back to the blackjack table and resumed my work. I dealt a few more hands.
then I noticed someone in the crowd. It was a young woman with blond hair, playing blackjack a few tables away. At first I thought that was Angela, and I had wondered why she would go back to the casino rather than stay with Rickman and the others, but she was a bit taller than Angela.
Still, she did look familiar, as I have seen her before. She may be a patron of the casino, or even someone whose duplicate I have seen and remembered in a parallel Earth.
I had this feeling that she was someone important. She then left the blackjack table; I decided to follow her.
"Where are you going?" asked one of the blackjack players at my table. "You haven't finished yet!"
I ignoired him and focused on the woman. She went to the cashier's cage to trade in the casino chips for money, and then she walked. She appeared to be headed for the parking structure. I followed from a distance. I could not see her face clearly due to the fact that the casino was packed with gamblers. Thwen I saw her meet up with this big Negro man.
It was the same man that had tried to kill Angela yesterday.
They seemed to be walking together. I could tell they were having a conversation. They soon left the casino and entered the parking structure. The two of them walked down this incline and then got into a car, a gray Toyota Camry.
I made sure to record the license plate. I made sure to burn the license plate number in my memory. I hoped this would give me an important clue. This could be my only lead.