《The Law of Averages 》Chapter 7
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"I'm not going to try and explain seventy years of cultural development to you, boy," Doctor Mercury huffed. " Suffice it to say, vigilantes cause an unacceptable amount of chaos. If you are interested, hop on back to Earth and pick up a history book."
"With what money?" Dan demanded. "I don't even have an identity!"
"Quite right. You are in a bit of a pickle," Mercury laughed in a way that Dan hoped wasn't meant to be sinister. "Luckily, I've got an offer for you that I think will solve some of your problems."
"...This feels like one of those offers I can't refuse," Dan mentioned awkwardly.
"You'd be an idiot to do so," the doctor replied cheerfully.
Dan sighed, keenly aware of how few options he had available to him. Merrill rubbed against his cheek, lending him her fragile mousy strength.
"Alright, let's hear it."
Doctor Mercury steepled his fingers together. "My offer is simple. It's been a long time since I've last visited Earth, but I still have contacts down there. You work for me, and I will get you an identity, register you under one of the standard teleportation lists, and pay you a reasonable salary. You'll be a person again, and all you'll have to do is be a loyal employee."
The words dripped out like honey and Dan reminded himself that this man had never explicitly denied being a supervillain.
Probably better not to push on that front.
"What kind of work are we talkin' here?" he asked.
"Why, the only kind you are suited for, of course. Delivery!" The doctor threw up both his hands with a smile.
Dan physically halted his jaw from hitting the floor. "You want me to be your delivery boy?"
"You are perfect for the job," Mercury confirmed. "Do you have any idea how much money I waste on transporting basic luxuries all the way out here? And the ship only comes twice a year!"
"You're really telling me that the only job that I'm qualified for is that of an interplanetary UPS man?" Dan groaned.
The impudent old doctor shrugged helplessly. "I'm not saying you aren't qualified for other things, but this is the only one that I would need. I won't hold your identity over your head. You'll be free to quit after... say a year? Then you can find employment with whoever will take an unqualified drifter with zero references."
"I haven't worked a delivery job since high school," Dan protested weakly.
"Best I can offer, unless you have a PhD in physics or biology and at least twenty years of experience." The literal doctor crossed his arms and stared expectantly at Dan.
He flailed around for an out. "Couldn't I approach the American government and explain the situation? There must be a power out there that determines truth from lie, right? To verify my story? Then I can get credentials from them!"
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"The truth-teller upgrade was outlawed as a violation of the 5th amendment. You have no way to prove your story." Mercury corrected. He paused for a moment, then in a enthusiastic voice, added, "You're the first person that Spackle has actually brought to me, you know? Usually I have to watch the tapes to get an idea of what she's been up to. The way she upgraded you is very different from the way we do it back on Earth. I'm actually quite excited to study the way your powers work."
"I won't be a lab rat," Dan stated flatly.
"I already told you what you'd be doing for me. I'm happy enough taking passive scans of you coming and going. I sincerely doubt your government will be so generous. I doubt that they even realize dimensional travel is possible."
Dan arched an eyebrow. "Surely they are aware of the kidnapping, dimension-hopping , sentient alien space ship that occasionally visits you? There's truly no precedent for this kind of thing?"
Doctor Mercury shrugged. "We are quite far from any sort of sensor net. Nobody knows about Spackle. I'm too old, too rich, and too uninfluential to warrant people spying on me. Besides, she's never really been an issue before. I assumed that she'd never bring anyone here. Not a great assumption in retrospect, but it's the one I made."
"It sounds like you'd get into some trouble if I were to go back to Earth and blab," Dan said slowly.
The old man scratched at his whiskered chin. "For people to learn about such things... Well, it would be annoying, but only that. My monthly reports deal with my studies on the cosmic radiation of Neptune. I have no obligation to mention anything else."
He shrugged once more. "But who can really say what might happen. Maybe I'm wrong, and they welcome you with open arms."
"So they might give me a citizenship, they might throw me into jail, or anything inbetween," Dan summarized.
"That's the gist of it, yes."
Dan groaned again.
"Look, Mr. Newman, I'll freely admit to some bias on my side. I am rather excited to study your teleportation, and you'd make for a fantastic gopher." Mercury's tone was sympathetic, even if his words were not. "That said, I haven't lied to you. This is the best chance I think you'll get for some sort of stability. Or you could take a risk and we can go our separate ways. The question you have to ask yourself is this: What do you want?"
What did he want? All sorts of things. He wanted to go home, he wanted to be a superhero, he wanted a steady job, he wanted a hot fudge double-chocolate cherry sundae, he wanted things to go back to normal, or an acceptable fascimile thereof. Of those things, he could get one, maybe two, possibly three if he was very lucky.
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Dan took a deep breath and met the old man's eyes. "If I'm gonna work for you, I'll need your full name."
Mercury blinked. "What?"
"Well, I can't keep calling you Doctor in my head, it's idiotic."
Mercury laughed. "Marcus Mercury, at your service Mr. Newman."
"Better to call me Daniel," Dan replied solemnly. "It looks like we'll be roomies for the next year."
________________
Dan stared upwards at the site of his former home. The Pearson Hotel loomed over him, giant, intimidating, in all of its ancient splendor. Pigeons fluttered to and fro from hidden resting places, lending the place a feeling of serenity that Dan really wasn't feeling.
He took a deep breath. He could do this. It was just a building. This was not his home. He had to be able to do this, to be able to walk around on this alternate Earth without having a panic attack every time he saw something different. There was nothing magical about this place, there were no ghosts or monsters or demons. It was just brick and mortar and wood.
There was nothing to be scared of.
He stomped inside the lobby, legs feeling like jelly. He took in the old fashioned decor with a steely eye and a steady heart. For a moment, all was well. Then he stomped back outside, sat down, and put his head between his knees.
"Hoooo," he gasped, trying to control his breathing. This was a terrible idea. Dan had never been good at facing his fears. Better to bury them deep, and never glance in their direction again. That way you get all the benefits of no longer having problems, with none of the trauma invovled in actually dealing with them.
A few people strolled past him on the street, gracing him with pitying looks. Dan ignored them. He was an interdimensional kidnappee, he was allowed to have a panic attack every now and then! He dug around in his front pocket and pulled out a drowsing Merrill. Dan's fluffy mouse-friend snored a bit as he balanced her on his head, her quiet strength soothing to his mind.
Breathe in, breathe out. Dan was fine, he was fine. He shakily clambered to his feet, careful not to disturb Merrill. The snow-colored rodent was gently deposited back into her pocket, her job done, and Dan focused on his enemy. The old antique doors of the Pearson glimmered in the sunlight, taunting him.
"Just a building," Dan whispered to himself. He moved forward once more, pulling open the doors and entering the lobby. This time he took in the scenery with a measured pace, slowly turning his head from left to right, quietly noting the many differences. It seemed like his old apartment had completely renovated the inside of the building. Once Dan got past the mind-bending alienness of his surroundings, the huge differences actually helped him cope.
This was not his home. He had to internalize that. This was not his Earth. That sucked, sure, but he could learn to deal with it. Would learn to deal with it.
Dan took a deep breath, finally feeling somewhat at ease. A light cough reached his ears, somewhere off to his left. He glanced over, almost jumping in surprise. The bank teller had snuck up on him at some point. Her frilly black bonnet flapped in his face as she looked at him with concern in her eyes.
"Are you okay, young man?" the woman asked. She was an older lady, though nowhere near Mercury's age. She had just enough years to grey her hair and wrinkle her skin. Her clothes were old-fashioned, obviously by design, matching the strange theme of the hotel. Odd she may look, but her voice shined with sincerity.
Dan smiled weakly. "Sorry to worry you ma'am."
"My name is Margaret, dearie, and you look like you could use something sweet." The lady—Margaret—offered Dan a lollipop. He stared at it in bewilderment.
"Sugar always helps my nephew when he gets into a funk," Margaret explained genially.
"I see," Dan replied blankly. The sweet hovered in his vision. After an awkward second, he took it. The wrapper made pleasant crinkling noises as he unwrapped it. He popped it into his mouth, savoring the flavor.
Cherry. Delicious.
He sighed happily, relaxing in place. Margaret nodded to herself triumphantly.
"A little sugar makes everything better," she told him.
Dan made a noise caught somewhere between pleasure and bliss.
Margaret hesitated. "I noticed you come in earlier. You looked awful distraught. I can... call someone for you, if you need help?"
Dan waved her off. "No, that's quite alright ma'am. I was just remembering some things that I'd rather not think about."
She nodded at his reply, though looked unconvinced. "If you're sure."
"I am," Dan confirmed.
"Alright then," Margaret said, straightening her bonnet. "Well don't you mind this nosy old woman, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You are okay, aren't you?"
Dan smiled weakly at her question, and she tottered off with a wave.
"I'm not okay," Dan whispered to himself, once he was sure she was out of hearing range, "but I think I will be."
He glanced around at his not-home one last time, then imagined himself elsewhere.
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The Otherist
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