I woke up on a gurney in the lab with Nick leaning over me.
"It worked!" he announced. "Good show—good job! The McDowells were actually arrested in World 437."
"Really?" asked Shep groggily from the gurney next to mine. "Why? They hadn't done anything."
"This isn't really fair," said Nick sheepishly. "I should have unlinked you and then taken you right to Andrew's office and not tried to steal his thunder. So I'll do the unlinking and then, if you're up to it, let's go over there, and you can hear the rest."
Shep and I thought to each other for the last time. It's been a trip, buddy, he said. And fun, I replied. And, um, educational. I caught the echo of Shep's laugh, and then I was outside. Alone. Back in myself, by myself. It felt weird, and kind of sad.
"They were hoist with their own petard," explained Andrew. "World A is anomalous, remember, and the McDowells exist only in that world. So in World 437, they couldn't call on Kirk 437, because he didn't know them, and there was no lawyer they could call. Nobody knew them."
"But how come they got taken in, in the first place?" asked Shep. "They hadn't committed any crime."
"The identification they had, their drivers' licenses from World A, were not quite identical to the licenses in World 437," answered Andrew, "so the security guards thought they were forged and called the police. And the police also thought they were forged. And Yancy was carrying two doses of chloroform and an ampoule of digoxin, remember. Plenty of probable cause.
"They weren't at the rendezvous on time to be taken back. Kirk A investigated, saw what had happened, and retrieved them back to his TSA after they'd gone to sleep in a cell."
"If he saw what had happened," I asked, "why didn't he go back to before it happened and pull them out as soon as they got there? Or not send them in the first place—if he could see what would happen?"
"Nick?" asked Andrew. "Any ideas?"
"I'm trying," Nick answered. "But after thinking about all these paradoxes for a while, I get the feeling that my head is going to explode. It's a good question, Mitch, and the answer is that I don't know. The important thing is that it worked. They're stymied for the moment.
"Of course, they can pick another night, set up another alibi, and do it again…I guess. Or—well, I'm not sure. We'll keep observing, World A and World 437 and maybe some near neighbors, and see what transpires."
"I nearly forgot in all the excitement," said Andrew, "but you've given us some other important data as well. Remember when you, Mitch, influenced Yancy's behavior from inside his head?"
I thought for a moment. "Oh—when he was going to pick the blonde but chose Desarya instead."
"Right." Andrew nodded. "We didn't think that was possible. Apparently it has to do with the strength of emotion—that managed to pass whatever barrier there is between the host brain and the stowaway. At some point we'll want to do more research into that effect.
"An all-round excellent job, gentlemen," he went on. "You've certainly paid us back for rescuing you and earned some time in the TSA—let's say a week?"