(To read the story from the beginning, click here)
“Excuse me?”
“Kenneth, no games. The frequency – what is it?”
I laughed, long and hard, remembering the story Dan Rather told about being beat up in an elevator by some strange men while one kept asking, “What’s the frequency, Kenneth?”
My “hostess,” or the hostess-voice at any rate, protested. “I don’t believe you’re in any position to be making jokes, Kenneth. My people and I have given you all the time and resources you need in order to solve our problem. Now, it’s time to see some results. What is the frequency?”
My laughter died down but didn’t stop. “You – ha- you’re not kidding?”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life. Kenneth, what is the frequency?”
I sighed. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been trying to tell you that I’m not your guy -”
The voice cut me off. “Wrong answer, Kenneth. Do you realize that you could be terminated with less energy than you use to blink?”
“Whoa, whoa, no need to get violent. I’m just not your guy. I’m sure that Kenneth -”
Cut off again. “I’ll give you one more chance, Kenneth. This time, you’d be advised to tell me what I and my people want to know. What… is… the… frequency?”
“For the last time, I’m not Kenneth,” I said. “If you’d just check my ID in my wallet -”
“A man of your resources could get a very authentic false ID, Kenneth. That plastic thing in your wallet means nothing to me, and evidently your life means nothing to you. Say goodbye, Kenneth,” the voice said, as invisible hands took hold of my wrists again, this time much more firmly and roughly than before.
“Hold on a minute,” I said to the unseen hands holding me. “Aren’t you the same honeys that made me feel so good before? Now you’re gonna do what? Kill me? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Kenneth,” the voice said, with more than a little exasperation. “You know that my drones feel what I tell them to. They made you happy before because I told them what would make you happy, and that making you happy would make them happy. Now, all I have to do is tell them it would bring me great joy to see you dead… and it would make them happy to make me happy.”
“What about my wallet?” I said.
“You’re only prolonging the inevitable, Kenneth, but if it makes you happy I’ll play your little game,” the voice said, as my wallet was pulled from my pocket. It floated over to the leather gloves, which picked through it. The first thing they pulled out was a Bank of New York “Debit 24″ ATM card. “Bank of New York? I thought you hated them; your exact words, if I recall correctly, were that the Bank of New York was ‘a cancer that should be wiped off the earth.’”
“Maybe Kenneth hates them, ma’am, but I have no problem with them,” I said.
The voice “hmmm’ed” as the gloves continued picking through my wallet. “You have appointment cards from a dentist and a cardiologist in here. But… Kenneth’s in perfect health,” the voice said, with a tinge of doubt creeping in.
“Maybe Kenneth is, ma’am, but I’m not,” I said truthfully.
Then the gloves pulled out a dark blue credit card-sized card, which must have struck them as strange. “What is this?”
“ESPN Zone, ma’am. It’s an entertainment and sports complex in Times Square, down in New York City.”
“Really?,” the voice said, in apparent surprise. “That seals it then. You can’t be Kenneth. He knows nothing of sports or entertainment. Science is his life. He probably doesn’t even own one of those video units… what do you call them again?”
“Television?” I offered.
“Yes, I believe that’s it,” the voice replied. “Anyhow, I’m terribly sorry about all this mixup. I don’t know how we can possibly make it up to you…”
“Make what up to me?” I asked.
“Kidnapping you, for one thing. Then torturing and blindfolding you. For Kenneth it would have all been a big game, since he claims to fantasize about being treated this way…”
“Whoa, hold on,” I said, cutting in. “You mean to tell me that this Kenneth person looks like me, likes what I like, drives the same kind of car, and everything?”
“I’m not really sure how much attention my people paid to the car you were driving. They saw the resemblance, and went on from there.”
I shivered, to think that there was really another person out there that much like me, fantasies and all. I always liked to think of myself as unique, and here these… “people”(?) fulfilled an impossible fantasy of mine based on nothing but mistaken identity. Freaky…
“So… what happens now?” I asked.
“Well, we have no choice but to return you to the location where you were found,” the voice said, in an apologetic tone.
“No need to go through all that trouble,” I said. “Just point me toward home, and I’ll find my way.”
“I really am sorry,” the voice replied, “but we really can’t chance anyone knowing how to get back here. For our own safety as well as yours, it’s best that we return you the way you were brought here.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” I said, in the most reassuring tone I could muster. “I can keep a secret.”