Sam paced in the hospital waiting room, mind racing. He was confident Colin would be alright now, but Maggie on the other hand, he had no clue.
His only lead was Billy, but how could he, looking just like Maggie, simply show up and accuse him of kidnapping her?
He felt powerless; how could he so much as file a missing person’s report on himself?
The sound of Al’s entry broke him out of his thoughts, and he met the eye of his friend, eyes pleading. He couldn’t talk to him right now, in front of all these people in the room, so he headed for the door, hoping the night outside was devoid of onlookers.
“Sam,” Al began, following him, “Beeks finally gave me her report on Maggie’s psychological profile.”
Sam exited the doors and retreated around a corner.
“It’s too late, Al. She’s already been taken. I thought you said that wasn’t due to happen yet.”
“No, listen, Sam. Using the limited data she’s got, Ziggy calculates that Billy’s only got a 24.8 per cent chance of being the culprit.” Al looked back at Sam with the kind of grave expression he only reserved for very serious moments.
“What?” Sam said, incredulous. “But he almost busted down her door. Who else could it be?”
“Well,” he said, grimacing, and whacking the side of the handlink, “Based on Verbena’s report, which is based on the other Maggie’s insight, there’s a 72.6 per cent chance that Maggie went missing… on purpose.”
Sam felt the blood draining from his cheeks.
“I knew she wasn’t doing well, but…”
“The good news is, the Maggie in the Waiting Room thinks your Maggie plans to start a new life somewhere. Ziggy gives it a 93.2 per cent chance that if she did run away, she’s still alive in our time.”
Sam rubbed his chin. This was… certainly a curve ball.
“And because I’m here still looking like Maggie,” Sam deduced, “that’s why the historical records are saying she doesn’t disappear for a couple more days.”
“You got it. The last time Maggie was seen alive, according to our records, is Saturday morning. That’s the morning after tomorrow.”
“And that also means Quinn and the others are due to leave some time shortly after that.” He ran his fingers through his hair with a groan. “I have to get back to the code transcription, so the timer’s ready for the slide.”
Dammit.
“Look on the bright side,” said Al, “you have some friends who can pick up the slack for you, right?”
Sam nodded. Colin was out of commission, he’d need rest. Quinn didn’t have to watch him for typos, though it would make things faster. Rembrandt would be available to help. Slowly, a plan started to form in his mind.
“Okay, I’ll have to talk to them.”
* * *
It was well after midnight when the four of them arrived back from the hospital. Colin had been released, once Sam had convinced the doctors he could provide adequate care at home. He’d have to wake him every few hours just to check his symptoms, but he’d already planned on staying up all night to do the code, so that wasn’t a problem. He was going to be a wreck later, but it couldn’t wait.
Sam started brewing coffee, while Colin was walked unsteadily to the couch by his two companions.
Sam could overhear some of their conversation as he scooped the ground coffee into the filter, and filled the tank of the machine.
“If he’s here to make sure Maggie doesn’t run away, then we need to find her fast, before she makes it out of town,” Quinn said.
“That’s if she hasn’t split already,” Rembrandt replied. “And what if he’s not here for that at all, and it was to help with the timer?”
“Oh right, he’d end up right here with his niece just to let her disappear? Doubt it.”
“Big guy upstairs works in mysterious ways, you know. All of this has helped us get our timer fixed, right? Even the Maggie part, since we’re at her house, usin’ her computer for it.”
This seemed to silence Quinn.
It also made Sam wonder if Rembrandt was right. Maybe forcing Maggie to stay against her wishes was the wrong thing. And what would stop her going as soon as he leaped away? He’d need to convince her to stay, but he could see she hated being here. What could he possibly say to her?
On the other hand, the 72.6 per cent figure Ziggy had given was not nearly high enough to give up on finding her.
He activated the coffee machine, and headed to the living room.
Colin was sitting up, apparently feeling a little better, though he had a dazed expression that suggested he might not be much for conversation at this time.
“I need one or both of you to go pay Billy a visit,” Sam said, gaze shifting between Quinn and Rembrandt. “He’s the only other lead we’ve got right now. I’d do it, but it would be a bit strange to be asking him about the whereabouts of… myself.”
Rembrandt nodded. “Sure thing, I’ll go.”
Quinn placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’ll go with you. Two against one is better odds.”
Sam smiled at them. “Thanks, fellas.”
He looked toward the front door. “I’ll go get Higgins to give up his address. Hopefully there’s a security override so you can take the car…”
He exited the house and made a beeline for the squad car.
He placed his hand on it, and got Higgins to let him in. As he slid into the seat, he nearly had a heart attack when he found Al in the passenger seat waiting for him.
“Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Don’t do that when I’m on edge about potential kidnappers.”
“Sorry, yeesh,” he said. “Look, Ziggy’s looked into the Higgins program; I’ve got some shortcuts for you.”
“Oh, good. Tell her I’m sorry for doubting her usefulness earlier.”
She’d definitely earned her keep by now, even if her predictions were on the fritz.
“Place your hand on the scanner and hold it there for ten seconds,” he instructed, reading from the handlink. Sam did so.
A chime rang out in the car.
“Okay, that means admin mode’s been activated. Tell it to add two new operators, and go get Sam Junior and One Hit Wonder over there.”
Sam raised an amused eyebrow at these new nicknames.
“Higgins, add two new operators.”
“New User mode. Please place hand on activation panel.”
“Quinn! Rembrandt!”
The two came out of the house, and he beckoned them over, as he rose out of the car seat.
Sam gestured to the seat. “One of you sit there and place your hand on the panel.”
They exchanged a glance, and Rembrandt took the initiative.
He put his palm on the panel, and Higgins chimed again.
“New handprint recorded. Name?”
Rembrandt gave a nervous look at Sam, who nodded expectantly.
“Uh, Rembrandt Brown.”
“Rembrandt Brown, social security number 987-65-4323.” Higgins barked. “Confirm identity?”
“Uhhh yes?” he said, and Sam couldn’t tell whether or not that was a lie.
“Authorization recorded. Welcome, Rembrandt. Second user, please place hand on activation panel.”
Rembrandt jumped out of the car, and Quinn replaced him, putting his hand on the panel.
“New handprint recorded. Name?”
“Quinn Mallory…”
“Quinn Mallory, social security number 000-45-6844. Reported missing in 1995. Confirm identity?”
Quinn went white, and Sam quickly jostled him out of the car.
“Uh, cancel, cancel.”
“User canceled. Approve user: ‘Rembrandt Brown?’”
“Yes.”
“Handprint confirmation required.”
Sam placed his hand on the panel again. Finally, a new chime sounded.
“User confirmed.”
Sam sighed.
“Okay, well, Rembrandt, the car’s all yours,” he said with a grimace.
Quinn was shifting on his feet. “I hope that didn’t report anything to the authorities about my whereabouts.”
“Don’t worry kid,” Al said, as if Quinn could hear, “it was counted as a mistake and stricken from the record.”
“It’s fine,” explained Sam.
He stepped away from the car, allowing the two friends to get in.
“Good luck,” he told them, as Rembrandt commanded Higgins to open the passenger side. Quinn gave a resolute nod to Sam before climbing in.
He watched the car pull away, revealing Al standing where the passenger seat had been a moment ago. He was holding the stack of papers.
“Back to work,” he said grimly.