There was no way in Hell that Schelpps was taking another plane trip across the Atlantic in the same night, so he checked into a tiny hotel with a pub for the main foyer. Trying to think of anything but his work, he took a book from the shelf in his room.

To his annoyance, the book was called The Mozart Syndrome: Works Of Genius That Never Were, by Professor L.G. Mordren. According to the dustcover, it was a foray into the studies of time theory and alternate histories, focussing on what sort of things could have been accomplished in the potential lives of influential and brilliant people who died young, pointing out Mozart, who had died of typhoid fever at the age of thirty-five. The theory was that if they had been allowed to live longer, fuller lives, the world would be very much changed indeed.

"When did he write this thing, I wonder?" Schelpps said to himself, flipping through the book and finding a reference to Kurt Cobain, to his amusement. "And when did he start experimenting with LSD?"

At that moment, his cell phone rang. Schelpps checked the ID, though he didn't really need to. He flipped open his cell phone and said, "Hallo, professor. Make it quick. I was just settling in for the day."

"There's something in my lab, Schelpps," Mordren whispered. Schelpps could almost see him crouched behind his desk, pupils dilated from the drugs.

"I'm sure there is, professor. How many heads has it got?" Schelpps teased.

"Only one, actually," Mordren said quite seriously. "But it's rather odd, Schelpps, and I don't trust the police to deal with something on this scale. Please, could you come over and rid me of it?"

"What is it?" Schelpps asked exasperated.

"I think it's a ghost," Mordren murmured.

"There's no such thing, teach. Rips in the time field, remember?" Schelpps said comfortingly, and then realized what Mordren was getting at. "Professor... You weren't entirely truthful with me about the tear I just corrected, were you?"

"I may have put the AP switch on a little late..."

"What in the name of Charlemagne did you let through?" Schelpps asked furiously, sitting up in bed and grabbing his sunglasses.

"An experiment, from long ago. I'm afraid I grew rather attached to the subject," Mordren said quietly. "But he's not the same as he was, Schelpps, and I can see what might happen if he stays here. Can you send him back?"

"No, professor, I just corrected the rip that could have sent him back to wherever he came from. Damnit, professor, you created a rip in time so you could have an experiment?" Schelpps snapped.

"A special experiment," Mordren said meekly.

"I'll be right there," Schelpps sighed, and gathered up his equipment.