A/N: A quick response to HLB concerning Walter. Walter only wears glasses when he's pretending to be Harry Potter. He had blond hair until he discovered that shoe polish makes an excellent hair dye. He is now checkerboard. (Or should that be chessboard?)

Chapter Seven: Joe 90

It was a small figure, clad in black, with a black hood and face mask and fine black gloves. The only thing that was not black were the glasses, almost like a pair of sports sun glasses but with clear lenses. The figure walked carefully through the mansion holding a small penlight which would only shine on one small spot at a time.

Carefully, and professionally, the figure approached a painting. And smiled. The safe was hidden in the most obvious spot. But the figure was careful. He reached into his belt pouch and drew out a rod that unfolded like an old wooden ruler. It had protrusions on either side, no more than two inches wide on alternating sides and six inches apart. The rod extended to five feet.

Anyone at a circus would have marveled at what the figure did next. Although little more than four feet tall, he climbed the ladder, for that is what the expandable rod was. Through careful balance, he now stood above the painting. And he smiled when he saw the touch sensitive alarm.

Seconds later, the proper tools were out and the alarm was being dismantled. Having removed the external alarm, the figure produced a thin wafer of aluminum. Before swinging open the portrait to reveal the safe behind it, he slid the wafer into the space between the picture and the wall. He ran the wafer around the edge of the frame, noting two points where the wafer met resistance. Then he smiled to himself. The external alarm was to fool a thief into thinking he had successfully disarmed it. Inside were two pressure alarms set to go off unless they were deactivated first.

A hand went into the pouch and came out with another wafer and a roll of duct tape. Carefully, two strips of duct tape were pealed off and the role put away. Each wafer was half slide under the frame to hold down a pressure point. Then tape was placed over the other half to hold it in place.

With a aura of nonchalance, the portrait was swung on its hinges, the two strips of tape holding the wafers over the two release switches, so that they would not register the alarm. The figure smiled. A hand was put in the pouch and a stethoscope produced. Discovering the combination of the lock of the wall safe would take less than two minutes.

The safe was opened to reveal three shelves. One had a box of jewels. The second held money, a large number of large denomination bills. The third contained a ledger. As the thief grabbed the ledger, he also reached onto his belt for the miniature camera. Pausing only to make sure he had made no disturbances, he moved to a table and opened the ledger to the first page.

Ten minutes later, all the pages were photographed, the thief was back on his ladder and the ledger back in the safe. The safe was closed and the combination dial returned to its original position. The painting returned to its original position. Carefully, the duct tape was pealed away from each wafer and each wafer carefully removed. Lastly, the external alarm was reassembled.

Two minutes later, the figure left by the same window he had entered. Ten minutes later, he was in a car being driven away at high speed.

"How did it go, Joe 90?" the driver asked.

"It was a piece of cake, Uncle Sam." The figure removed his glasses and then the black mask, revealing the face of a sandy-haired boy only a month past his tenth birthday. The boy passed the camera to the driver, Sam Loover. "W.I.N.'s most special agent came through again. Thanks to the brain patterns of Jean Pierre Gaston."

Sam Loover smiled. As assistant to the director of the London office of the World Intelligence Network he had every reason to smile. "Well, Joe, Monsieur Gaston doesn't need his safe-cracking skills in prison."

"Uncle Sam. When I was using his brain patterns, knowing everything that he knows, it was easy to find the safe. It was like a game. I even felt a rush when I finally opened it. I just hope the information is worthwhile."

"It is Joe. Travis Matthews knows every member of organized crime in the South of England. What this camera contains is his life insurance policy. All those little bits of information that would convict anyone who tried to get rid of him. Now we can get rid of all of them, and make the world that much safer."

Joe sighed happily. Gaston might enjoy robbing safes, but this ten-year-old enjoyed helping to stop people like him. "Uncle Sam, Dad's going to be made when I get home. It's already past my bedtime."

"School's out for the summer, Joe 90. I think he'll forgive you this time."

To all appearances, the two men were sitting in the living room of a small English cottage. And it was a very comfortable cottage, just big enough for a father and son.

Doctor Ian McClaine stared at his friend for quite a while before answering.

"Sam, we've always said that BIG RAT was WIN's most closely guarded secret. Why is the World Intelligence Network revealing our secret to this man, whatever-his-name-was?"

"He says his name is Doctor Leo Key. And we aren't revealing anything, Mac. This man contacted us. He already knew about BIG RAT. And he even hinted at the existence of SMALL RAT as well. While he didn't make any specific threats, he suggested we meet for a talk."

The doctor was amazed. "And you are sure there were no leaks?"

Sam stood up from the chair he was sitting in and walked to look out the front window. "Not at our end. That much is certain."

Ian stood up in abrupt anger. "Sam, You aren't accusing me . . ."

"Not you, Mac. We have every confidence in you. But . . ." Sam nodded his head toward the outside, indicating Joe 90, who was walking down the lane. The boy was the Doctor's adopted son, returning from football practice.

"Joe wouldn't reveal BIG RAT. He knows it's too important."

Sam tried to look sympathetic. "Joe is the only one we haven't cleared. You know there are people out there that know you work with us. There could be any number of spies trying to get any kind of clue. Joe could have said something, in passing, which meant nothing to anyone, except the spy. Mac, I'm sorry but that's what the chief thinks. There's no other way this man could have found out."

Doctor McClaine looked at his longtime friend. "I don't believe it. And neither do you. Joe knows this is too important. He would never slip. Not after all this time."

"DAD," A cheerful voice called out as the front door opened. The young boy spotted the other man and called out with equal cheer, "UNCLE SAM! I saw your car. It's great to see you." He turned back to the door, carefully closing it, then turned around. "Do you have another mission for me, already?"

Mac whispered to Sam. "Did you notice? He made it a point to close the door first, even though he knew no one else was around."

"I noticed," Sam muttered, then turned to the boy with a smile. "Not yet, Joe. Things are slow and it's been a while since I've made a social call. How was your day?"

Joe grinned broadly. "I made keeper for the team. At practice I blocked every shot. The football never made it into the net."

"That's super, Joe. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Uncle Sam. Will you be staying for dinner?"

Mac patted Sam's shoulder. "Why not. We can discuss things while we eat."

Sam nodded. "I wasn't planning on it, but sure. Let me call the chief first. To let him know I'll be back late."

Joe looked up in surprise as his uncle.

"And you thought I would tell anyone?"

Sam smiled back. "It would have explained things. The chief's making arrangements with Doctor Key right now." He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe he'll tell us how he found out about BIG RAT."

Mac gave his son a whimsical look. "Sam, maybe Joe would like to show you our success with SMALL RAT. Then we can have dessert." He smiled when Joe's face broke out in another wide grin. "Whose pattern shall I try first?"

As the three arose and walked to the secret elevator that led to the underground laboratory, Sam had to ask. "Mac, I know that BIG RAT stands for Brain Impulse Galvoniscope, Record And Transfer. But what does SMALL RAT stand for?"

Mac chuckled. "The Record And Transfer part is still the same, Sam, but we did have to manipulate the wording a bit to make this rat small. Joe, would you like to tell him."

"It's easy. Synergistic Manipulative ALgorithmic Locution."

Sam laughed. "And what does all that mean?"

Joe laughed with him. "Ask Dad. He's the scientist. I'm only good as goal tender and secret agent."

"Well, Sam . . ." Mac began.

"Don't bother. I won't understand it even if you do explain. ("We both know that's a lie," Ian said.) Just show me what it does."

They stepped out of the elevator into the main lab. Along one wall was the control booth. On the far side was the BIG RAT.

"And where is the SMALL RAT," Sam asked.

"Here," Joe said as he pointed to a work table. On the table sat a small box about the size of a schoolboy's bookbag. It was black and even had a strap to make the resemblance more striking. Had the case been closed, Sam would have assumed that was what it was. He was amazed at what he was looking at.

"And that does the same thing as," he waved his hand at the huge machine on the far wall, "as all of that?"

"And more, if you can believe it," Mac told him. "We don't even need the BIG RAT to record brain patterns." He opened the bookbag to reveal three compartments. The smallest one held a pair of glasses. The second held two dozen thin slivers of metal, each with a diode attached at one end. Each sliver was a little less than four centimeters long. The third and largest compartment held a machine that resembled a hand-held radio. The machine also had a collapsible directional antenna attached to it. Sam whistled appreciatively.

"Mac, you've clearly outdone yourself."

"The wonder of microprocessors. Once the technology goes public, you'll be able to build a computer that can sit on your desk." Ian McClaine let his pride show. "In fact, that's what I've done. That little radio is a specialized computer designed to record any brain pattern onto a data shim. Show him, Joe."

Joe nodded and picked up the pair of glasses. He took the first pair of data shims and inserted one on each arm of the glasses. He then put the glasses on. As he did so, his youthful manner changed and he took on a more serious and knowing look. There was still a boyish glint in his eye as he looked at Sam.

"As you know, Uncle Sam, with BIG RAT it would often take as much as an hour to set up a recorded brain pattern transfer. With SMALL RAT, the technology has been advanced so that a brain pattern can be induced simply by making contact with the dual electrodes within the framework of the eyeglasses."

Sam chuckled. "He definitely has your brain pattern, Mac. So tell me, Joe. If I put on the glasses, can I immediately access your father's memories?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Sam, but each pair of glasses must be specifically oriented to a particular user. If you were to put these glasses on, all you might get would be a mild electrical shock. Because I was used as the experimental subject for BIG RAT, he decided that I should be the one to test the new system."

Sam nodded. "I noticed there were two pairs of slots on your glasses. Does that mean you're still capable of accessing two brain patterns at the same time?"

"I can do everything I could before," Joe pointed out. "Plus I can take readings of brain patterns while I am in the field and use them almost instantly."

Mac saw the look in Sam's eyes and knew where his thoughts were heading. "Why don't we invite Doctor Key to meet us? I am curious what we will find out."

Joe McClaine eyed carefully the dark-haired man who walked into the cottage with Sam Loover and Shane Weston, chief of operations for the London office of the World Intelligence Network. The first thing he noticed was that the man had an honest face. The second thing he noticed was that the man had an oily voice reminiscent of a politician. He smiled when Shane Weston introduced him to the supposed master spy.

"How are you, Doctor Key?" Joe said as he extended his hand.

"I am doing very well, young man. I hope I don't surprise anyone too much if I ask if you are WIN's special agent in this world?"

Everyone stared.

"What do you mean," Ian McClaine asked, "by the phrase, 'in this world'? Are you claiming to be from a parallel universe?"

"A what?" Shane Weston asked.

"A parallel universe," Leo Key replied. "An alternate dimension. A world similar to but not quite the same as this one. The answer is yes." He looked at Joe. "And from your look, I would guess that my question has the same answer."

"Yes, Sir," Joe answered in surprise. "But how did you know?"

"Deduction. In my world, I was Doctor McClaine's assistant. Not that any of his children as old as you are."

"Children?" Ian McClaine asked.

Doctor Key looked up in apparent surprise, then paused to look around the room. He saw the pictures on the mantlepiece and nodded slowly. "Is Mary . . ."

"My wife died in a car accident four years ago."

"I am sorry, Ian, excuse me, Doctor McClaine. It is one difference between our worlds that I would not have wished for."

Doctor McClaine coughed uncomfortably. "I'm being rude. Won't you take a seat? We can at least relax while we talk."

"Thank you, and I do apologize for making you . . ."

"Please don't apologize. You made your point rather effectively." The doctor made the effort to smile as he led everyone into the den. Once everyone was seated, he added, "Now you have to explain yourself fully."

"I intend to, and more. I did not come here simply to test an experiment. I came to give you a warning." Leo Key raised his hand to quell any immediate questions. "Let me explain a few things to you, first. I was Doctor McClaine's assistant in my world, and as a result I was the test subject, and WIN's most special agent. That is how I know all of you. Except for young Joe, but I think I've explained that part already."

Key took a deep breath. "There are other worlds. And agents from one of them found a means to travel between the dimensions. They use this to steal technology. To put it quite simply, they are pirates. They tried to steal BIG RAT. Doctor McClaine and I successfully destroyed the machine to keep them from getting it." He paused to give a rueful grin. "But we also had what we called SMALL RAT. We had developed microprocessor technology which . . ."

Everyone began to grin at the man causing him to stop in his dissertation.

"Should we tell him, Dad?"

Ian McClaine sighed. "I think you just did, son."

"Sorry."

Leo Key laughed. "And I was going to offer you the tech documents as proof of my good will." He looked suggestively at the hidden panel in the wall. "Is it down there?"

Somehow, that remark lifted the cloud of doubt that everyone had about the man. This man knew so much. He had to be telling the truth. But he had one more surprise for them.

"Before anything else, let me tell you that I did use SMALL RAT. I obtained the brain pattern of one of these agents, but I was spotted before I could escape. I did the second best thing. I used the man's knowledge to operate his machine. I escaped to another world, this world. I also set things so the machine would be destroyed after I arrived. It would prevent them from recalling it, which the brain pattern informed me they could do. But I had to use the self destruct mechanism within SMALL RAT to do this." He leaned forward and looked intently at Doctor McClaine. "Ian, they may not be able to follow me. Then again, they may. That is my warning to you. If they do, they know where to look."

Shane Weston cleared his throat. "Doctor McClaine, has SMALL RAT been tested?"

"It has."

"Can you dismantle BIG RAT without any loss?"

"Once we download the stored brain patterns, the only loss is sentimental, and I can live with that."

"Then that's what we'll do. It may be unnecessary, but we can't afford to take chances. Is SMALL RAT in the lab?"

"It's under my chair," Joe said with a smile. He reached inside the blanket lying underneath the rocker he was sitting in and pulled out the bookbag with its extended antennae.

"You recorded my brain pattern," Doctor Key said with a mirthful grin. "You are a brilliant boy, Joe. Do you have the glasses?"

Joe was grinning at the compliment. "It was Uncle Sam's idea. And I do have the glasses."

"Try them on and let me know if there is anything I should add."

Setting the case on his lap, Joe opened it and pulled the twin shims that held Doctor Key's brain pattern out of the recording device. As he went to pick up the glasses he suddenly noticed a glow in the room. It was then that Doctor Key shouted anxiously, "We have to get out of here. IT'S THEM."

Joe quickly put the shims and glasses away and closed the case. As he stood up, someone grabbed his free hand to rush him out of the house. It was Doctor Key. His father was about to grab hold of him as well when the glow became a blinding flash of light. Joe tripped, his knees hitting the hard ground. He dropped the bookbag as his other hand, no longer being held, kept him from falling over.

"DAD?"

"Don't shout." It was Doctor Key, close by, whispering to him. "I don't know where we are, or if it's safe."

Joe blinked a few times as his eyes began to clear. He was on a hillside, surrounded by trees. Doctor Key was already on his feet, looking around. He saw Joe watching him and helped the boy to his feet. Joe gave a nervous start as the man picked up the bookbag and opened it. He also gave an embarrassed smile when the man said everything looked in order, then closed it and handed it to the boy.

"Where are we?" Joe asked.

"I regret to say that I don't know. I am guessing that those people I tried to warn your father about had something to do with this. I think they were monitoring the house and tried to grab you once you said you had the SMALL RAT." He smiled at Joe. "If it's any consolation, I think my grabbing your hand upset the balance. They suddenly had four times the mass to move. Hopefully, we ended up somewhere they can't find us, but where we can find our way back." He paused as he looked through a gap in the trees and waved Joe to come over.

"Might I suggest you look at this? I've spotted a castle. Can you see it?"

Joe whistled appreciatively. Perhaps a half mile away it stood. "It is a real castle. I can even see the guards. It's like we're in the middle ages. Do you think we went back in time, somehow?"

"I don't know. We need to know where we are without revealing ourselves." He paused. "It's a long shot, Joe, but do you think you can get a brain pattern of one of those guards?"

Joe looked out in the distance. He raised the antennae and tried to focus on one of the castle guards. He shook his head. "They're all moving, Doctor Key. I think the distance would be a problem even if they were standing still."

"They make poorer targets if they keep moving," a voice said from behind them.

Both man and boy turned around. Before them was a young teenage boy with blond hair sitting on a horse. He was watching them warily. He noticed the bookbag with the raised antennae and frowned. His next comment was pure sarcasm. "You wouldn't be powerful wizards by any chance."

Doctor Key looked at Joe and nodded. Joe pressed the button which activated the brain pattern recorder. The Doctor looked back at the boy on horseback and smiled.

"When science becomes advanced, it reaches a stage where it is indistinguishable from magic. I am not a wizard. You would call me a scientist."

The boy smirked. "My mother tells me that a rose by any other name would still have thorns. If science looks like magic then scientist is just a fancy term for wizard. The Baron does not approve of wizards unless they are leaving. Are you leaving?"

Joe gave the boy a smirk of his own. "As soon as we find out where we are. Are we in England by any chance?"

The smirking contest continued. "Which chance do you mean? Slim or none?"

"Then why don't you tell us where we are and save us the trouble." Joe looked down. "It's ready, Doctor," he whispered.

"What are you whispering about?" the boy on the horse asked.

Doctor Key smiled. "My assistant was telling me he can't see you very well, Joe, why don't you put on your glasses."

As the boy watched, Doctor Key took the open bookbag from Joe and held it for him. Joe picked up the pair of glasses and the two shims in the recorder. He placed the shims in their slots on the arms of the glasses, then put the glasses on. His face changed immediately as he suddenly stumbled, keeping his balance with an effort.

"Joe?" the doctor asked in concern.

"I'm . . . I'm fine. It's just a shock."

"What magic is this?" the other boy asked, drawing his sword.

Joe looked up at the boy. "Your name is Roland. You're the Duke's son."

"Then you recognize me."

Joe turned to the doctor. "This land is called the Chalk. And this world is a disc."

The doctor replied in a surprised tone. "Then we are indeed far from home."

"LEAVE THESE LANDS AT ONCE," Roland commanded. "I will tell the guards about you and if they catch you they will burn you." He turned his horse around to be stopped by two men wearing togas. They had identical hats which had wings, as well as bare feet which also had wings. They also stood three feet off the ground.

"Here he is, Hermes."

"No, Mercury, it's that one over there."

"By the gods," Roland uttered in surprise.

"By and by, the gods," Hermes acknowledged. "We need to take one of you to aid Tiffany Aching."

"He looks like the Baron's son," Mercury said.

"But the other one is wearing glasses," Hermes pointed out.

"That's right," Mercury agreed. "Preferably wearing glasses."

This time there was no flash of light as the two messengers of the gods disappeared, along with young Joe McClaine.