A tingling numbness started in Max’s his scalp and spread downward to meet up with the fuzzy burn that radiated from the toy car in his hands. Suddenly, both the sensations and the little car were gone. Linda too had disappeared. Otherwise, the room was exactly the same as it had been a moment before. He walked around to the desk chair, slipped the rifle off of his shoulder and sat down. It would take a few moments for Linda to follow him, assuming that she would even end up in the same place. He swung his feet up on the desk. Listen to the Chapter 28 podcast with roboreader Sangeeta. It was possible that the little car had taken her somewhere else, or to a different incarnation of the same place – perhaps a copy of the room without Max in it. A moan from the other side of the desk confirmed she had made it through. She called his name in a trembling voice. “I’m here,” he replied without rising from his seat. Assuming that the beetle affected her in the same way that it affected him, she should be fine soon. Everything had at least started according to plan. “That was freaky,” said Linda, apparently still on the floor. “Like wrestling with a paint mixer.” Max stood up and leaned over the desk to see her sitting cross-legged on the floor, her hair mussed but otherwise looking well enough. “It feels more like an electric shock to me.” “I guess,” she said as she massaged one of her hands. “I’ve never been shocked. Not with an electric current anyway.” Linda grasped the edge of the desk and lifted herself up. “What now?” “I guess," said Max, "we do what I did last time.” He thought back to the first Beetle episode, trying to recall each of the steps he had gone through before. “Exit environment,” he called. The room transformed into the cluttered lab. He held out his hand. “Come on.” He led Linda to the heavy metal door that opened from the lab to the outer office. The scene outside was familiar; Stephen’s desk, the gray waste basket, the cinder block walls covered in glossy gray paint. There was a subtle shimmer to the room and the items in it, as if at any moment they could suddenly change into something else. He kicked the trashcan. It tumbled over with a clang that was very much, but not quite, like the sound he would have expected. The route to the exit that opened on the darkened parking lot was shorter than he remembered, and when they stepped into the night, his was the only car in the lot. It was parked under the bright spot of a street lamp. He grasped the handle. A muted click and a beep indicated that it recognized his touch and that the doors had unlocked. Max nodded to Linda. She walked around to the passenger side and climbed in. He handed his rifle to her as he settled into the driver’s seat. The seatbelt secured itself across his lap and over his shoulder as the engine purred to life. “Home please,” he ordered the auto-chauffeur program. The car glided out of the parking space toward the street. “Nice car,” said Linda, waving her hand at the dashboard. “I guess, for an econo-box. I don’t really keep it this clean.” Linda nodded soberly. “A little light on the details?” “So it seems.” The streets of the campus were uncharacteristically empty, and the route felt to Max to be distinctly abbreviated. He realized that enough details were missing from the road and landscape that he might have had a tough time finding his way home, if it weren’t for the automated guidance. Clearly, whoever had programmed the environment had left the reality turned down a bit too low. That must have been what made the trip home feel so odd the last time he’d been here, although it had been good enough that it hadn’t registered as anything more than mild disorientation at the time. His car pulled up in front of the awning that sheltered the steps leading into his apartment. They stepped out and Max led Linda up the stairs. He stopped and turned to watch his car park itself in his reserved space. As at work, the lot was empty save his lone