SLIDERS: THE GIFT
Copyright by Jules Reynolds (October 1996)
(Julia@wrenlea.demon.co.uk)
The following story is intended for entertainment purposes only. This
document can be freely distributed with the condition that no part of
the text is modified, and this notice is included with all copies.
This document cannot be sold or translated into any other form without
written permission from the author. Some characters and elements of
this story are the property of St Clare Entertainment, used without
authorization. No copyright infringement is intended. The author
receives no compensation from the distribution of this work. Any
comments or criticism would be welcome.
Her hands hurt, the skin chapped and raw. The joints knarled and aching. She reached upwards and pulled the heavy wet sheet to the line, fixing the clothes peg to its seam.
Escape. How many times had she said it, thought it even? That forbidden thought. Freedom under any guise. Escape to another life. She'd like nothing better. Her life was for nothing any more, except to survive.. Her husband gone, her children clinging to her for their very existence. She couldn't cope any more. In her thirty five years on the planet she'd never felt so tired, so exhausted. She couldn't go on taking the responsibilites that the other women, generations of them before her, had taken on themselves.
The men had a simple choice. Join the Force or die. Join the Force and die anyway. She knew her son would end up the same way. Like his father, like his grandfather before him. Like all the men.
Two months leave a year. That's all. She'd had about six months with her husband since they were married some six years earlier. Now he was gone and she was tired. The Authorities didn't care about her, about her daughter. Her son yes. He was regarded eagerly. As soon as he was ten he would be taken from her. In three short days, the day after Christmas, he would be plucked from the caring arms of his mother to be trained. At fourteen he would be sent to battle the Alliance. At twenty he might be dead.
Her husband was lucky, if lucky was the word. He'd survived until he was thirty four. The Alliance hadn't captured him, he'd simply died in battle. At least that was what the message she'd received had said. It was apologetic, complimentary of her husband's bravery. It said nothing. Nothing she didn't already know. It didn't compensate for the death of her lover, her friend and her children's father.
The sheet fluttered noisily in the wind. A cold wind. It was winter. Christmas in a few days. The seasons had changed beyond all recognition. The things the scientists had done with the weather, in the name of defense, didn't bear thinking about. They'd screwed with nature and the rewards were for all to see. Barren lifeless landscapes, hot hard summers of drought and cold dark winters.
Survival. That's what life was all about now. The pleasures of a society which her ancestors had known had gone.
Some hundred years earlier erased in the mind of a madman. All thoughts of a society of caring had been snuffed from all existence.
The drone was familiar and yet it again clutched at her stomach to fill it with dread and sickness. She tightened her lips, tucked her washing which remained into the basket and walked slowly but surely towards the house.
The faces of her two children, unseen by her, their small bodies framed in the doorway, gazed panic stricken to the skies. She could hear their breathing, its speed increasing with their panic.
The noise of the shapes which were coming slowly towards them like menacing monsters filled her mind and her thoughts.
"Inside quick, you know what to do," she commanded quietly as she closed the door behind her and ushered them towards the basement steps.
"Where's Sandy?" Matthew's worried voice called to her from a few steps in front.
"He'll be here, Matt. Take your sister and go down to the hiding room. I'll bring Sandy."
"Mommy I'm scared!"
Her six year old's voice filtered up the stairs and tore at her heartstrings. How do you begin to tell a child that they might as well get used to it? It was all you'd ever known since you were small. Oh the technology was better of course. That changed almost yearly. Better killing machines, better bombs, better chemicals. But the scene didn't change.
This house. Her friend's house. He'd been a good friend but he was gone. Long gone, like all the men she'd ever known. Now it was hers by some fluke of luck. He'd taken them in when her husband had died, her own house destroyed. She'd always be grateful to him, to his memory. Memories were all she had.
Her mother had died at fifty. Exhausted with looking after four children through war. Exhausted with being terrified continually. In the end the sickness got her. No medicine could save her. She died thankfully in the end and passed the task of looking after her chidren to her eldest daughter, Laura.
Now tired herself, her two brothers long since dead and her sister spirited away by the sickness not long after her mother, Laura faced the renewed bombing with resignation.
She'd lost more than her mother and sister in the sickness which followed, year in year out, more than she'd ever dreamed or dreaded. Her own nightmares come reality.
Hope. Laura smiled wryly. Hope was a distant and long extinguished emotion.
A cold wet nose nudged her leg.
"Sandy, you old rogue," Laura reached down and fondled the ear of the three year old labrador, its golden coat covered in the dust from the ground outside.
"I've got him," she called, as she gingerly crept down the wooden steps, feeling the rail which ran alongside her, and closed the door behind her . The gales of excited laughter at the sight of the dirty but beloved dog, were extinguished, as the door shut and any further sound was drowned by the heavy drone of fifty heavily laden bombers, heading towards the main San Francisco bay area and their target, the meagre Headquarters of the Force's Western coast command.
***
The wind which swept the dust around the small house allowed only the noise of the encroaching aircraft to filter through.
The vortex exploded into the space some hundred yards from the small barn which was adjacent to the house. It's blue light seen by no one except the family cat, who stared transfixed for an instant and then was gone. It's fur a mere blur across the dusty terrain.
As the bombs began to rain down on the bases some two miles away from the small house, a pilot in one of the rear planes spotted four shapes on the ground below.
"We've got four idiots down there, are you up for it?" he hissed down his mike to his fellow pilot alongside.
"We don't get enough target practise. Well not live targets anyway," the dark tones of the other man came back at him, followed by a low laugh. "Okay let's go for it!"
He flicked the controls of the small light craft in his power. The main bombers had finished dropping their deadly payload and were cruising towards their return journey. Providing back up on this trip was easy. The folks here didn't bother with anti-aircraft weapons any more. The Alliance guessed they were out of ammunition for the most part. The Force relied heavily on manpower. It had enough of that. Barbaric was what the Alliance called it. Relying on technology meant that for the most part the Alliance didn't use as much manpower, it didn't kill its men as the Force did.
Still, it was traditional. The Force had men and the Alliance had the technology. Simple really. The pilot shrugged his shoulders. Any people on the ground were targets as far as he was concerned. Any idiots who'd forgotten that if you stayed indoors you were left alone for the most part, deserved to die. The pilot had no qualms with that little scenario at all.
The two planes swooped low across the small homestead. The imager on his panel lined up four shapes ready for firing.
"I'm going to have a go at manual on this one," he heard his fellow fighter announce.
"You haven't done that in a long while!" announced the pilot laughing.
"Well, it'll give them a chance then won't it!" returned his friend, and he heard a further chuckle.
"You're nuts Sam, know that?"
"So I'm told. Can't say I don't have compassion though, eh?" came the reply.
"Nope I guess you can't say that. Let's say it's your Christmas present to them shall we?" The pilot smiled at the irony and flicked his own automatic firing control offline and lined up for manual as well. He needed the practise.
***
Rembrandt coughed and brushed down his clothes. He felt disorientated. The vortex had slipped away as neatly as it had arrived and yet he was surrounded by noise. He looked at his friends.
Quinn was helping Wade to her feet and the Professor was himself cleaning dust off his jacket.
"Good Lord, look at those!"
Rembrandt turned his eyes in the direction of the Professor's arm. Two smooth black airborne shapes were cruising their way.
"I think we ought to get to shelter, guys," urged Quinn as he took a startled looking Wade by the hand and headed as quickly as he could towards the barn.
Rembrandt was a step ahead and reached the barn doors.
"Oh man, it's locked!" he exclaimed, moaning as he rattled the doors to no avail.
The sound of laser gunfire was followed by the dust kicking up in a trail directed at the four Sliders.
"Quinn we've got to get out of here," urged Wade, her eyes wide and terrified.
"Mr Mallory, the house," Arturo pointed at the small building some fifty yards to their left.
"Come on, let's go before they come back," Rembrandt shouted seeing the two aircraft cruise westward and then start to turn.
The four sliders ran, their feet heavy across the thick dusty terrain. The sound of the aircraft nearing.
As they reached the steps into the house the laser fire commenced again, this time seemingly more accurate and nearer. The dust kicked up closer as the first plane passed overhead, missing his targets.
***
The pilot swore under his breath.
"You're up Sam. Last chance. I'm homeward!" he threatened his friend as he pushed the nose of his plane upwards and headed away from the house and the four people.
"Don't worry, rely on me!" his friend chimed as he pushed his plane down and aimed the laser gun towards the small group which had reached the steps.
"I'll get one of you and that's for sure," he threatened as he pushed the red button and the laser arc raced out and downwards, tracing a pattern in the dust as it neared its target. Didn't matter which one. So long as he left his mark somewhere. His reputation was at stake. Nice Christmas present for the ones he missed. Pity about anyone he got though.
***
As the plane passed overhead the sliders heard the laser beam arc. The four friends flattened themselves against the steps and prayed. There was nowhere left to go. They couldn't get inside the house and couldn't risk standing on the steps. They had to hope the pilot's aim was bad.
The plane passed on its way, its deadly gift given to the group below. The silence which followed was deafening. Not a creature stirred.
Arturo pulled himself to his feet and looked at his three friends. He watched as Rembrandt moved himself into a sitting position and rubbed at his head.
"Man, that was close," he declared unhappily and looked up at Arturo.
He saw the Professor move towards the two younger sliders, concern mirrored on his face. Their still silent forms lay side by side at the bottom of the steps.
Arturo swallowed and reached down to touch them.
As he started to turn Quinn over, he felt Rembrandt join him silently at his side and watched as his hand reached to turn Wade onto her back, a small trickle of blood traced across her forehead. He couldn't see any obvious wounds on Quinn but his eyes were closed.
Rembrandt closed his eyes and put his hand to his forehead.
"I think they're dead," his only words as Arturo rose to his feet and stared in silent agony at his two friends.
oOo
A low moan issued from Wade's lips as she opened her eyes and struggled to get up.
"No, sweetheart, just you lay there for a minute," Rembrandt gently pushed the determined form of Wade back against the step. Relief, an intoxicating feeling running through his system.
"Quinn, Quinn. Wake up my boy. Come on, wake up." Arturo's voice seemed to have no effect. Quinn's eyes remained closed.
As he felt gently for any injuries, the Professor noticed a small burn mark to the right of his left shoulder. The sweater was singed all right. As he pulled it back he saw the wound quite clearly. It was a clean laser burn.
"Quinn!" Wade struggled against Rembrandt's arm, as she tried to force him to let her get to her feet and turn to her friend.
"Let the Professor take care of him,Wade. You ain't gonna do no good if that pretty head of yours gets even more banged up than it is," Rembrandt urged as he firmly held onto her, and eyed the nasty wound on her forehead with unease.
Wade felt a rush of dizziness and slumped back. She was weak and her head was starting to thump. Reaching up, she fingered the sticky liquid and pulled a face as she examined her fingers.
"See, now you do what I say, okay?" Rembrandt insisted firmly and putting an arm around her moved her to a more comfortable sitting position and let her rest against him. He knew she was eyeing the prone form of Quinn with apprehension. Hell he was worried as well, but two minutes earlier they thought both their friends were dead. Now it seemed like Quinn was at least alive and Wade was okay, well more or less.
Rembrandt squeezed her gently.
"We have to seek medical help somewhere, young Mallory has a nasty wound in his shoulder" Arturo stated, rising to his feet and looking down anxiously at Quinn.
"What about this place?" Rembrandt asked, looking over his shoulder and up the steps at the front door of the house.
"Seems deserted, Mr Brown, but yes, I agree it's as good a place as any to try. We ought to get our two young friends inside anyway. We don't know whether those maniacs will come back and......"
His words were interrupted by a creaking sound behind him.
"Those maniacs will kill you if you stay outside. Who are you and more to the point what are you doing on my property?" Laura's head moved in an arc, seemingly scanning the four people one by one.
"Yes, madam. We'd be in your debt if you would allow us the privilege of waiting inside until our friend recovers, or perhaps help us in seeking medical help," Arturo offered, putting his best smile forward and extending his hand. "Maximillian Arturo at your service," he added.
Laura stared silently and then reaching out, she placed her hand forwards and found his own and shook it.
"Laura Mayer," she introduced quietly. "You got any more hurt out here?" she added questioningly.
"She has a minor injury we think, but we would be grateful if......"
"You all come in. I'm not about to turn people in need away. The world might have gone mad, but I haven't," she answered, her lips set.
"Matt, come and lend a hand," she called and a blond haired boy arrived at the top of the steps.
Laura felt for her son's shoulders and squeezed them gently.
"Help with the girl. I'll help get this one in," she turned to Arturo.
"You'll have to show me," she said as she came down the steps and stood next to Arturo.
At that moment the Professor noticed her eyes. The dullness of the pupils, the flatness were all too obvious. He hadn't noticed and now he did.
Laura was blind.
"Allow me," he started to say.
"I'm capable, just point him out," Laura repeated firmly, her jaw set hard. She hated being treated different. She simply hated it.
Arturo watched in amazement as Laura lifted Quinn's shoulders and rested his head against her chest. She motioned to Arturo to take his legs.
"Don't go being so amazed." she remarked and then added, "I can tell, don't you fret. I don't have to see your face to know what you're thinking."
A bright smile crossed her face and Arturo could swear she was looking directly at him.
"Look I might have no eyes, but with no men around we develop muscles and skills to lift," she explained and laughed. "Having no eyes doesn't mean no muscles," she added.
She grunted as she took the whole of the weight of Quinn's upper body against her own and helped the Professor into the door with him.
She seemed to have a sixth sense as to direction and obstacles. She didn't trip once or bang into the doorway. Her sense of direction was perfect.
"No men?" Rembrandt echoed as he put an arm around Wade and allowed Matt to hold her other arm and guide them into the house.
"Yeah, where've you been for the past hundred years? Hey, you're not from the Alliance are you?" Laura stopped suddenly, her grip on Quinn relaxing.
The Professor felt his end's weight increase and he winced. His back was taking too much strain. He knew he would suffer later on.
"Madam, I can assure you that we are not "from the Alliance" whatever that is. Please can we go inside and I will attempt to explain everything to you," Arturo panted as he struggled to take the extra weight.
Laura lifted again, much to his relief, and looked him squarely in the eye. Even though he knew she couldn't see him, it made him distinctly uncomfortable.
"Fine. But you'd better not be lyin' to me," she replied and eased Quinn through the door and into the interior.
"In here," she backed herself into a small room which fronted the house and groaned as she finally placed Quinn onto a bed.
Arturo straightened his back and winced.
"Good God woman, you must be strong," he remarked as he watched her pull a cover over the still unconscious form of his friend, not bothering to ease out any of her own muscles and joints.
"I am what nature made me and when it played dirty tricks on me I've become what I've had to be to cope, simple really," she replied and smiled at him.
Arturo smiled back. She was a good looking woman now he came to look closely at her, out of the glare of the light outside.
She swept her blond hair back from her face and pushed it behind her ear, bending over Quinn and examining his wound carefully and deftly with her fingers.
"Nasty lazer burn. But it's clean and feels as though it hasn't got to any vital organs or anything by its position. Can't say for sure though." Laura shook her head and turned her face up to Arturo.
"Can you do anything for it?" Arturo asked, his fingers mentally crossed that this diminutive but resolute figure before him would be able to help them.
"Sure. I've coped with animals worse than this. His heart's the only vital organ round there. Frankly, if he'd been hit there then he'd be just plain dead," she replied and moved out of the door.
Arturo glanced at Quinn. He moaned slightly and turned to his side. Good, he was coming round. The Professor felt Wade move to stand next to him.
"Child, you should be resting," he admonished gently.
"I can't, Professor. Not while he's there like that," she replied and turned her eyes towards him.
He reached down and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.
"Get that head of yours sorted out and then you can sit with him if you like," he remarked quietly and moved her back as Laura returned to squeeze past them..
Laura turned her head to Wade as she went to Quinn's bed.
"Matt says you got a nasty head wound. I'll take care of that in a minute," she commented as she pulled back the sweater and t-shirt and started to tend to Quinn's shoulder, feeling it carefully as she did it.
Quinn opened his eyes. The blur started to become distinct now and he gazed up into Laura's face.
She smiled, sensing his stirring.
"Good to have you back," she remarked gently and pasted a white cream onto the lazer burn.
He winced.
"You'll be up with your friends as soon as you know it," she added and taped a large white pad across the wound.
"Here, these tablets will help with the pain," she said, thrusting two white pills into his mouth and lifting his head she put a glass of water to his lips.
Quinn swallowed the tablets and then caught sight of his two friends.
He noticed the blood trail down the side of Wade's face and tried to sit up.
"Wade..." he started.
"Oh no you don't. Back you go. She'll be fine. Now you're fixed up, I'll sort her out," Laura said firmly and pushed him back to the bed.
"I'm fine," Wade called over her shoulder as Laura gripped her arm as she passed her, and steered her firmly from the room and into the bathroom to tend to her head wound.
Arturo turned to shut the door, to let Quinn get some rest.
"Professor, is everyone okay? I mean Remmy as well?" Quinn called as the Professor started to leave.
"Yes, my boy, Mr Brown is fine as well. I'll come and talk to you later," he added as he left. He could see Laura's shape in the bathroom hovering over the seated shape of Wade, her face turned upwards as the wound was bathed and dressed.
As Arturo closed the bedroom door he took the timer from his pocket. He was grateful he'd slid with it. Otherwise it could have been hit with laser fire. The consequences didn't bear thinking about.
He looked at the display and shook his head. Thirty five hours'til the slide. He hoped his two friends would be up to traveling by then. If not they'd have to anyway, there was nothing that could be done about it.
The small voice which interrupted his thoughts and burst through the tranquility of silence was Matthew's. He stared at Arturo and then turned to run. The bathroom his destination.
"Mommy, that man. He's got one of those remote control things, like we found downstairs. Mommy it's got blue numbers on it, like the one Uncle Quinn used to have!!"
The words punched through Arturo like a knife.
oOo
Laura came from the bathroom slowly, wiping the last traces of Wade's blood from her fingers with a cloth. She stared in Arturo's direction and then turned her face to Matthew.
"Go and get Briony," she ordered quietly, her unseeing eyes fixed on the Professor.
"But Mom," the boy protested.
"Do it," Laura insisted.
"You said you weren't Alliance people. I believe you're telling the truth. But there's just one poblem - who are you and what are three men doing free and roaming in Force territory?" Laura's eyes seemed to bore into Arturo's.
"Madam. We've been away for a long time. We don't know anything about the Force or the Alliance. I really do wish you would believe me." Arturo didn't know what else to say. He could say all the usual dumb things like they were from a parallel dimension. Would she believe him? He looked at her determined face. It radiated intelligence and understanding. Perhaps telling her was the best thing. He watched as Matthew and Briony came to be by their mother's side. The girl was a smaller version of her mother. Fair hair, determined eyes and clear skin interspersed with freckles from the constant sunshine during the summer.
"And that device Matt mentioned?" Laura pursed her lips as she waited for a reply.
Wade moved to be by Arturo's side. He needed support, and she wanted to help him.
"A transport device," Arturo answered slowly.
"Transport? To where? I've never heard of a transport device that small," she remarked.
"Your son indicated that you have a similar device downstairs," Arturo replied and looked at Matthew. The boy pulled his sister closer to him.
"It's not mine. It was my very good friend's house. He stored some equipment in the basement. He worked there all the time until they called him up. He was nineteen. That was a few years back now. Now they take boys when they're ten. They're running out of men, so they take boys.
"Matt called him Uncle Quinn," Wade observed.
She eyed the Professor. So far she was sure they hadn't mentioned their own Quinn's name. Perhaps that was for the best right now.
"Matt was little when we moved here. Quinn let us stay here when my Jack died. He was like a brother to me. He was Jack's friend really but that didn't matter. He looked after us like real kin." Laura swallowed, the memories of her lost husband and dear friend almost too much to bear in a single thought. She composed herself and straightened up.
"Anyhow, it's me that's doing the askin' of questions. You haven't answered why you're three men traveling together in this zone. I haven't heard of men not in uniform in these parts for years now."
Arturo swallowed hard. This was going to be difficult. If the young woman before him was as intelligent as she appeared to be, explaining their arrival might not be such a problem. If she didn't believe them though...
Wade's mind was whirring. If the Quinn of this world had stored sliding equipment in this basement then there was a possibility that the machine downstairs could get them home.
"May we take a look in the basement, at the equipment. Just to see if it is the same as ours?" she asked tentatively, studying Laura's face.
Laura turned her sightless eyes to Wade.
"You sure aren't answering my questions are you? The basement is out of bounds. Quinn asked me not to let anyone down there and I'll not betray his trust. Even though he's dead I'll not betray him. Only us, only us. We're the only ones allowed down there. At Christmas there's always a message for us. He marked it on his tapes for each year."
Wade's heart sank. So this Quinn was dead. It figured somehow. The house had an air of melancholy which hung over it. The young woman in front of her was determined, of that Wade had no doubt. Getting a peek in the basement was not going to be easy.
Laura suddenly moved.
"I'm goin' to make us somethin' to eat. The kids are hungry and I daresay you are too. When we've eaten we'll talk some more." She tossed her head and moved purposefully towards the kitchen at the rear of the house.
Rembrandt stuck his hands in his pockets and moved across to be with his friends.
"Man, that's one determined woman," he observed, looking at the retreating figure of Laura.
"Professor, we've got to get into the basement," Wade declared as she turned quickly and faced Arturo.
The Professor watched her face lose its color instantly and she staggered backwards.
"Oh, oh, careful sweetheart," Remmy said as he caught the swaying girl and moved her firmly into the sitting room and the safety of a sofa.
"I suggest you rest that head of yours. We need both you and young Quinn ready to depart in two days. You leave the undercover work to Mr Brown and myself, eh Mr Brown?" Arturo suggested as he placed a cushion gently under Wade's head and patted her arm.
Wade nodded wordlessly. Her head was swimming so badly she was grateful to have her body in a horizontal position and unlikely to fall over. She closed her eyes.
"You know, young Wade is correct. The possibility that there's a sliding machine in the basement is very likely from what we've heard. If we can look at it we might find that the Quinn of this world was able to slide in perfect control." Arturo whispered as they stood near to the door and eyed the kitchen warily.
"Yeah, then we can slide home using his machine," Rembrandt breathed excitedly.
"Precisely, Mr Brown. Precisely." Arturo stroked his chin and pondered their predicament.
"Tonight. We'll take a look tonight. When everyone's asleep you and I will take a trip down into this basement and see how we get on." Arturo smiled and clapped Rembrandt on the shoulder. "For now, I suggest we show willing to our hostess," he added and smiled broadly.
Remmy grinned back.
***
The meal was delicious. Laura had taken pride in preparing it, even though the ingredients were few and far between, she'd made the most of what she had.
Arturo leant back and sighed with contentment, patting his ample stomach.
"I gather you enjoyed that, Professor?" Laura asked as she passed a rather large piece of rhubarb pie to him for dessert.
"Words fail me madam," he replied, and reaching across took her hand gently in his own and put it to his lips.
Laura smiled.
"Got the gift of speech, this one," she observed as she passed a similar sized portion to Remmy.
"Man I'm finished," Remmy groaned, holding his sides and looking at the pie reluctantly.
Wade smirked. She declined the piece which she was offered and sat back. Her head felt better thanks to some tablets which Laura had insisted she take.
She pulled herself fowards and looked across at their hostess.
Laura turned swiftly towards her and stared sightlessly back.
Wade felt uncomfortable. She knew the woman in front of her couldn't see her but she still felt distinctly uncomfortable.
"Don't feel bad. I can sense when someone's staring at me, Wade, that's all," Laura offered and smiled. "It's a kind of sixth sense. You develop more senses than you realize you've got when you lose one of the others," she continued.
Wade looked across the room at the Christmas Tree. It's branches hung with round shiny baubles, tinsel draped across it's spreading arms. On the top sat a small angel.
Wade smiled. She'd forgotten it was Christmas. But they'd slide before they could enjoy it on this world. She hoped that they would arrive in another world where it was celebrated. It wouldn't be the same if they had to spend Christmas in some desert or something.
"Do you like our tree?"
The little voice crossed the table and interrupted Wade's thoughts.
She turned and met it's owner.
Briony was smiling, her eyes sparkling as she watched Wade's obvious enjoyment of their beloved tree.
"It's lovely. Where did you get it?" Wade asked interestedly. The landscape outside looked barren to her.
"Oh, it's not real. Daddy always tried to get a real one, but when he died and most of the trees died, Uncle Quinn bought this one so we would never be without one again."
The little girl's smile lit up the room as she looked proudly at the tree.
Wade felt a lump in her throat. Typical Quinn to do something as simple, yet as important, as provide this family with its own everlasting Christmas tree.
As Wade moved up the stairs for an early night, Arturo and Rembrandt sat themselves down in front of the open fireplace to talk with the young woman who held the key to a chance to get home.
oOo
The fire crackled loudly in its grate, sharp tongues of orange flame licking hungrily at the wood which lay nestled in the bottom.
Its warmth was comforting and Arturo held his hands out towards it.
"Jack loved this house. He visited with Quinn as often as he could," Laura commented as she sank down into a comfortable armchair opposite. She smoothed a piece of hair back and rubbed her hands together.
"Madam..." Arturo began.
"Please. I don't like formality. There's too much of it in the world already. Call me Laura. It's my name," she replied smiling.
"Very well. Laura then," Arturo said and lowered his eyes.
"Laura, if we were to tell you a story so fantastic you'd believe we had gone quite simply mad. And if that story somehow fitted in with something you already know about. Would you give us a chance?" he asked looking into her blind eyes.
"I'm open to suggestions," she remarked slowly and placing her hands in her lap she sat back and regarded him.
"A couple of years ago, my friends and I embarked on an adventure, none of us thought would ever happen in our lifetimes. That adventure has led us to many places, but never home. Now it has led us here. We're only here for a few hours but this house...this house which belonged to your dear friend, could hold the secret of our way home." Arturo paused. He couldn't gauge her reaction.
Laura sat wordlessly and then spoke.
"I'm listening".
"We are travelers. At least travelers of a kind. We are traveling to worlds which are parallel to this one. The device which we have is the key to our travels. Your friend, your Quinn, was working on a machine which also traveled to other worlds. He has a similar device. The fact is, your Quinn's machine could hold the secret to our way home."
"You keep saying "your Quinn". There's only one Quinn. I don't understand," Laura blurted and sat forward, her eyes darting around her.
She felt confused. These men, these strangers, even the girl. They were beginning to frighten her. All the talk about other worlds. Sure she'd heard it all before, but that was a different time. A long time ago. She'd almost forgotten about it. It wasn't time to relive it all again. It just wasn't time, and yet they were making her.
"There's more than one Quinn."
The voice came from the door. The tall but wavering figure of Quinn stood framed in the doorway, his arm around Wade, resting on her for support.
"Wade told me what was going on. I've got to persuade you to let us into the basement," he said and then sat on the side of a chair, his hand lifted to his shoulder rubbing at it. He winced.
The color in Laura's face fled and she put her hands on the sides of the chair and eased herself to her feet.
Her hands were visibly trembling.
"That..that voice. I'll never forget that voice," she uttered as she stared in Quinn's direction. "It can't be. It simply can't be. What tricks are you playing with me?"
She moved across to him and slowly put her hands to his face.
Wade watched in fascination as she moved her fingers around the contours of this face, gently and slowly and then traced his lips with one finger tip.
She stepped back and a small cry sprang from her lips.
"How? This can't be. I identified you. I had my eyes then. I identified your body. You were dead. You were so dead it hurt!" she cried and the tears broke free and tumbled freely down her cheeks.
"This isn't your Quinn, Laura. This is our Quinn. From a parallel world. From our world," Arturo said and he reached for the woman and pulled her close, letting the tears tumble down his own arms as well as hers.
Wade felt a hard lump in her throat and a tear trickle unbidden down her own cheek. She knew what she would feel like to lose a friend like Quinn. She knew in her heart what this woman was reliving, and it hurt her too.
***
Laura sat, composed now. The tears exhausted. The pain dissipating. Her hand entwined with Arturo's, his soothing stroking of her arm pacifying her gently.
She talked at length. About her Quinn. Her dear long gone friend.
"He told me all sorts of things about other worlds. I believed him. He was so gentle, so truthful. He wouldn't have lied to me. He respected me, just as he'd respected Jack. I just didn't have time to go with him or get involved. I had the two children and I knew, I had to enjoy Matt before they took him away from me. The rumours that they'd start to take children were getting more frequent. I wish we'd gone with him now. Maybe if we had we'd have all stayed away, Quinn as well. Then he'd be alive and my Matt would be seeing another Christmas with us. Jack knew what Quinn was doing. But he couldn't go....wouldn't. He felt responsible for us. He should have gone. At least he'd still be alive."
"Regret's a wasted emotion, Laura. Best not to dwell on what could have been. Let's try to think on what we can do to help you, in the little time we have before we have to leave," Arturo said.
"You can't help me. We're stuck here. Quinn told me it's wrong to take others from their own worlds. He'd done it once and he told me that it all went wrong. Traveling like he did, that would be different. No we're stuck. I know it. But I'll help you. You deserve a chance to get home, to your folks. I expect they miss you," she said and smiled sadly.
Arturo sat and gazed in wonder at this woman, her feelings and compassion for others overtaking any feelings of self.
"May we see the basement. See if we can get the machine to work?" Quinn asked, wincing with pain as he rose to his feet.
"Dear boy, I think rest is more applicable," Arturo suggested as he saw the color of Quinn's face.
"No, Professor, I've got to see this. It might be our chance at last," Quinn replied.
"Come with me, I'll get the key." Laura moved to the walnut cabinet which sat against the wall and took a large key from it.
"We use it as a shelter when the bombers come but it's not often. That's how Matt spotted the device like yours. He wasn't supposed to touch things but boys will be boys," she explained as she moved the door back on its hinges and started down the stairs.
"Lights?" Arturo asked as he watched Laura descend effortlessly into the dark interior.
"Sorry. Habit I guess. Don't need them so I figure no one else does," she replied and chuckled.
The lights flooded the basement and the Sliders gazed at the sliding equipment in front of them. Quinn examined each item carefully and spotted a video machine and monitor in the corner.
"How's the electricity?" he asked apprehensively, turning his face towards Laura.
Laura's heart did the leap it had when she'd first heard his voice.
"We've got our own generator. Something Quinn insisted on when electricity got too hard to get your hands on. Too darn expensive and often got cut off. He hated being without power, said it was too dangerous for his travels, so he bought the generator," Laura explained as she flopped into a chair at the side of the room.
"Well?" Wade asked excitedly, hanging over Quinn's shoulder.
"It's all here and it seems okay. I mean it's not burnt out or anything. I'll get her fired up and we'll see. How long to our slide, Professor?"
Arturo pulled the timer from his pocket and cautiously examined the display. It's four in the morning. We've got nineteen hours thereabouts.
"It's Christmas Eve," Laura observed solemnly.
"Yeah, I sure do miss Christmases back home," Rembrandt said unhappily. "All those TV commercials and Santa Clauses out on the street corners!"
"Yes, and the bright lights in the store windows," Wade sighed and sat down on the steps.
Laura didn't speak. Her Christmases hadn't been anything like the ones they were describing. Not ever. She couldn't remember when they last had anything resembling a television service and shops were deserted and empty for the most part, except for the odd blackmarket food store. It sounded like paradise to her.
Still there was always a new message from Quinn to look forward to. She'd have to find the tape for this year. He marked it and Matt always read out the right date for her. She listened to the television as it hummed into life.
The television in the corner flickered on and Quinn inserted a video into the slot of the player. There had been a whole pile of them, mainly dated with Christmas dates and years. He pulled out the one marked Christmas 1996, and put it on one side. It was for Laura. He ought to play it for her but his eye caught another one and this one in particular looked very interesting. He didn't have much time. The label was marked:-
"Slide".
oOo
"I can't get it to work. Man, this is frustrating," Quinn said angrily. His shoulder was hurting like mad and he was feeling pretty fragile, with a thundering headache and a feeling as though he were floating and then falling. Basically he wished he could just lie down and stay there. But there wasn't time. A simple thing like a video tape and he couldn't get the machine to play it. It had been something like an hour.
The children had ambled down to the basement too now, and were sitting on either side of their mother watching the frantic activity of the four strangers.
Briony was munching a piece of toast with one hand, and between bites was sucking her thumb.
Matt just stared at Quinn and then at his mother. Now Quinn was on his feet, Matt recognized his face from the videos they saw every year.
"Is it marked as a Christmas one?" Laura asked interestedly.
"Nope. Just "Slide"," Quinn replied absently.
"Sometimes Quinn puts messages on the Christmas ones and it refers to other tapes. Try this year's Christmas one," she suggested hopefully.
"Sure," Quinn replied. Anything was worth a shot. Anyway, it was good that on Christmas Eve this family would see and hear their old friend again.
He shoved the Christmas tape into the player and hit "PLAY". The machine whirred into action and while he half listened, Quinn moved to look at the main sliding machine. Arturo was seated, his arms resting on a bench examining the alternate Quinn's timer to see how it differed.
"Different configuration," Arturo muttered quietly and pointed to some components which Quinn couldn't recognise. This world was definitely different, and not just in its political structure.
Quinn settled down to help.
Rembrandt and Wade watched with interest as the Christmas 1996 message unfolded.
Laura's Quinn had shorter hair, but in essence there wasn't much difference. From time to time Wade noticed Matt stare from the screen to Quinn.
The pleasantries having ended on the tape, the alternate Quinn came nearer to the video camera which was making the film.
In a quieter voice he held a tape to the screen. "SLIDE " was written on the front.
The voice started to explain.
"Quinn, Professor, get over here. You gotta see this," Wade called excitedly.
The two left their bench and sat themselves down on the steps to watch the tape.
"Laura," the voice started. "This Christmas tape is my last to you. There are two reasons why. The first is that Matt is ten in a few days time. Happy birthday, Matt. If you've survived long enough to see this tape Laura, then this is my final gift to you. I can't help you personally because I can't be with you, but I can leave you a means to get away with Matt before they turn him into a soldier. A soldier you don't want him to be and his country doesn't need. I know they're going to start taking boys when they're ten. Trust me. By the time you see this, the whole sorry process will have started."
Laura swallowed. Quinn had known this would happen. He hadn't frightened her before, he'd waited until he needed to tell her.
Quinn's voice continued.
"You need to open this tape "Slide" up. There's a strip of sticky tape holding the whole thing together inside. The tape can't go around while it's fixed like that. Mostly everyone will just think it's faulty. When you've removed the sticky tape, play it. I'll explain everything on it."
There was a pause and the voice continued.
"Laura, one last thing. I'm sorry I haven't been able to see yours and Jack's kids grow up. I'm sorry I wasn't around for you. I would have been if I could, you know that. Take the gift I'm offering you and make a life for yourself. I'll never forget you."
Wade turned and watched the tears freewheel down Laura's face. She felt her own prick her eyes.
Quinn took a small screwdriver and opened the tape marked "Slide". He removed the sticky tape from inside and put the whole cassette back together again.
As the tape played and Laura listened, Wade saw a look of determination cross her face.
When it had finished, Laura rose to her feet and turned her face towards Quinn, reaching out her hands towards him.
He moved towards her and took them in his own.
"Can you do this for us?" she asked simply.
"Yes," he replied slowly.
"Thank you," she answered and taking her two children by the hands she moved to the stairs.
"How long?" she asked over her shoulder.
"About five hours," Quinn replied.
"Come on kids, we're going on a holiday. Let's get our things together," she said as she climbed the steps.
"And Sandy?" Matt asked as he smiled.
"And Sandy," Laura replied and hugged her two children to her.
***
"Quinn, you understand what this means?" Arturo said as he sat down heavily next to the bench.
"We go on sliding and Laura and the kids get away from here," Quinn answered and looked Arturo steadily in the face.
"We might have got home," Arturo reminded him.
"What would you have done?" Wade asked as she joined him and looked at Arturo with accusing eyes.
"Exactly the same as you," Arturo answered and smiled.
Wade flung her arms around his neck.
"I never doubted you," she whispered.
"Oh yes you did," he whispered back.
She smiled at him and kissed his cheek.
"There's no chance of the machine taking us all home, is there Q-Ball?" Rembrandt asked.
"No, the Quinn of this world specifically set this machine after his last slide. It's set for a world he called "Utopia". He's set a failsafe which means we can't interfere with it. It will only send Laura and the kids there and nowhere else. Once that's happened the machine will shut down and self destruct."
"Wow, he sure was careful!" Wade muttered.
"And very astute. He's made sure they escape before Matt gets taken away and he's made sure they'll never be followed," Arturo added.
"Why didn't he let them escape before that?" Remmy asked.
"I guess he always hoped he'd come back. Giving himself a good four to five years of possibilities allowed him some leeway," Quinn replied smiling.
***
Laura and the children stood in front of the vortex. Briony shielded her eyes from the wind and Matt hung onto Sandy's lead with a vengeance.
Laura turned to the four sliders behind her, and put down her bags for a moment.
"I'll never be able to thank you," she said in a hushed voice as she kissed Quinn on the cheek. She reached up to finger his face gently, as though running her fingers along the shape would help her to remember forever.
She turned to Wade and hugged her, and then reached up and kissed Rembrandt on the cheek.
Finally she turned to Arturo, her eyes moist.
"Your friendship...I'll never forget you," she breathed and threw her arms around his neck.
Arturo hugged her back "It's been a privilege," he whispered gently and smiled. Laura reached up and put both her hands around his face. "For us both," she said quietly and smiled.
Arturo watched with a lump in his throat as she moved away, and stepped with the children into the mouth of the vortex.
The whirlpool danced momentarily and then closed in on itself. Within seconds the main machine blew, its light darkening into a charred shell of its former glory.
***
The four figures spilt out from the tunnel and landed on hard uncompromising pavement.
Wade dusted herself off and stared at the bright lights which surrounded her. The musical assault on her ears was deafening, as she helped Remmy to his feet and they turned to check on the others.
Quinn winced.
"Your shoulder still hurting?" Wade asked as she took his hand and helped haul him to his feet.
"Yeah, a bit," he replied and then took in the sights around him.
A rotund figure walked slowly towards them, long white beard and big red hat. The bell in his hand was tolling interminably.
Wade glanced at the other figures walking around. They were all Santa Claus lookalikes.
Arturo looked at the enormous thirty foot tree which was centre stage, its thousand lights racing around it in myriads of patterns and colours.
"Welcome, dear friends. Welcome to Christmas Vacation land! A ten mile site devoted to fun and festive spirit. The fun starts here!" The voice on the tannoy pealed loudly as the four friends looked at one another.
Wade broke into peals of laughter and stared at Quinn.
"A Christmas Theme Park!" she exclaimed, excitedly.
He smiled broadly.
"Well, you did say you wanted to go somewhere they celebrated Christmas!" he said laughing.
Arturo looked unhappily at the flashing colored lights and garish plastic reindeer. "Lord preserve us," he said, shuddering visibly.
THE END
Copyright by Jules Reynolds (October 1996)
(Julia@wrenlea.demon.co.uk)
The following story is intended for entertainment purposes only. This
document can be freely distributed with the condition that no part of
the text is modified, and this notice is included with all copies.
This document cannot be sold or translated into any other form without
written permission from the author. Some characters and elements of
this story are the property of St Clare Entertainment, used without
authorization. No copyright infringement is intended. The author
receives no compensation from the distribution of this work. Any
comments or criticism would be welcome.
Her hands hurt, the skin chapped and raw. The joints knarled and aching. She reached upwards and pulled the heavy wet sheet to the line, fixing the clothes peg to its seam.
Escape. How many times had she said it, thought it even? That forbidden thought. Freedom under any guise. Escape to another life. She'd like nothing better. Her life was for nothing any more, except to survive.. Her husband gone, her children clinging to her for their very existence. She couldn't cope any more. In her thirty five years on the planet she'd never felt so tired, so exhausted. She couldn't go on taking the responsibilites that the other women, generations of them before her, had taken on themselves.
The men had a simple choice. Join the Force or die. Join the Force and die anyway. She knew her son would end up the same way. Like his father, like his grandfather before him. Like all the men.
Two months leave a year. That's all. She'd had about six months with her husband since they were married some six years earlier. Now he was gone and she was tired. The Authorities didn't care about her, about her daughter. Her son yes. He was regarded eagerly. As soon as he was ten he would be taken from her. In three short days, the day after Christmas, he would be plucked from the caring arms of his mother to be trained. At fourteen he would be sent to battle the Alliance. At twenty he might be dead.
Her husband was lucky, if lucky was the word. He'd survived until he was thirty four. The Alliance hadn't captured him, he'd simply died in battle. At least that was what the message she'd received had said. It was apologetic, complimentary of her husband's bravery. It said nothing. Nothing she didn't already know. It didn't compensate for the death of her lover, her friend and her children's father.
The sheet fluttered noisily in the wind. A cold wind. It was winter. Christmas in a few days. The seasons had changed beyond all recognition. The things the scientists had done with the weather, in the name of defense, didn't bear thinking about. They'd screwed with nature and the rewards were for all to see. Barren lifeless landscapes, hot hard summers of drought and cold dark winters.
Survival. That's what life was all about now. The pleasures of a society which her ancestors had known had gone.
Some hundred years earlier erased in the mind of a madman. All thoughts of a society of caring had been snuffed from all existence.
The drone was familiar and yet it again clutched at her stomach to fill it with dread and sickness. She tightened her lips, tucked her washing which remained into the basket and walked slowly but surely towards the house.
The faces of her two children, unseen by her, their small bodies framed in the doorway, gazed panic stricken to the skies. She could hear their breathing, its speed increasing with their panic.
The noise of the shapes which were coming slowly towards them like menacing monsters filled her mind and her thoughts.
"Inside quick, you know what to do," she commanded quietly as she closed the door behind her and ushered them towards the basement steps.
"Where's Sandy?" Matthew's worried voice called to her from a few steps in front.
"He'll be here, Matt. Take your sister and go down to the hiding room. I'll bring Sandy."
"Mommy I'm scared!"
Her six year old's voice filtered up the stairs and tore at her heartstrings. How do you begin to tell a child that they might as well get used to it? It was all you'd ever known since you were small. Oh the technology was better of course. That changed almost yearly. Better killing machines, better bombs, better chemicals. But the scene didn't change.
This house. Her friend's house. He'd been a good friend but he was gone. Long gone, like all the men she'd ever known. Now it was hers by some fluke of luck. He'd taken them in when her husband had died, her own house destroyed. She'd always be grateful to him, to his memory. Memories were all she had.
Her mother had died at fifty. Exhausted with looking after four children through war. Exhausted with being terrified continually. In the end the sickness got her. No medicine could save her. She died thankfully in the end and passed the task of looking after her chidren to her eldest daughter, Laura.
Now tired herself, her two brothers long since dead and her sister spirited away by the sickness not long after her mother, Laura faced the renewed bombing with resignation.
She'd lost more than her mother and sister in the sickness which followed, year in year out, more than she'd ever dreamed or dreaded. Her own nightmares come reality.
Hope. Laura smiled wryly. Hope was a distant and long extinguished emotion.
A cold wet nose nudged her leg.
"Sandy, you old rogue," Laura reached down and fondled the ear of the three year old labrador, its golden coat covered in the dust from the ground outside.
"I've got him," she called, as she gingerly crept down the wooden steps, feeling the rail which ran alongside her, and closed the door behind her . The gales of excited laughter at the sight of the dirty but beloved dog, were extinguished, as the door shut and any further sound was drowned by the heavy drone of fifty heavily laden bombers, heading towards the main San Francisco bay area and their target, the meagre Headquarters of the Force's Western coast command.
***
The wind which swept the dust around the small house allowed only the noise of the encroaching aircraft to filter through.
The vortex exploded into the space some hundred yards from the small barn which was adjacent to the house. It's blue light seen by no one except the family cat, who stared transfixed for an instant and then was gone. It's fur a mere blur across the dusty terrain.
As the bombs began to rain down on the bases some two miles away from the small house, a pilot in one of the rear planes spotted four shapes on the ground below.
"We've got four idiots down there, are you up for it?" he hissed down his mike to his fellow pilot alongside.
"We don't get enough target practise. Well not live targets anyway," the dark tones of the other man came back at him, followed by a low laugh. "Okay let's go for it!"
He flicked the controls of the small light craft in his power. The main bombers had finished dropping their deadly payload and were cruising towards their return journey. Providing back up on this trip was easy. The folks here didn't bother with anti-aircraft weapons any more. The Alliance guessed they were out of ammunition for the most part. The Force relied heavily on manpower. It had enough of that. Barbaric was what the Alliance called it. Relying on technology meant that for the most part the Alliance didn't use as much manpower, it didn't kill its men as the Force did.
Still, it was traditional. The Force had men and the Alliance had the technology. Simple really. The pilot shrugged his shoulders. Any people on the ground were targets as far as he was concerned. Any idiots who'd forgotten that if you stayed indoors you were left alone for the most part, deserved to die. The pilot had no qualms with that little scenario at all.
The two planes swooped low across the small homestead. The imager on his panel lined up four shapes ready for firing.
"I'm going to have a go at manual on this one," he heard his fellow fighter announce.
"You haven't done that in a long while!" announced the pilot laughing.
"Well, it'll give them a chance then won't it!" returned his friend, and he heard a further chuckle.
"You're nuts Sam, know that?"
"So I'm told. Can't say I don't have compassion though, eh?" came the reply.
"Nope I guess you can't say that. Let's say it's your Christmas present to them shall we?" The pilot smiled at the irony and flicked his own automatic firing control offline and lined up for manual as well. He needed the practise.
***
Rembrandt coughed and brushed down his clothes. He felt disorientated. The vortex had slipped away as neatly as it had arrived and yet he was surrounded by noise. He looked at his friends.
Quinn was helping Wade to her feet and the Professor was himself cleaning dust off his jacket.
"Good Lord, look at those!"
Rembrandt turned his eyes in the direction of the Professor's arm. Two smooth black airborne shapes were cruising their way.
"I think we ought to get to shelter, guys," urged Quinn as he took a startled looking Wade by the hand and headed as quickly as he could towards the barn.
Rembrandt was a step ahead and reached the barn doors.
"Oh man, it's locked!" he exclaimed, moaning as he rattled the doors to no avail.
The sound of laser gunfire was followed by the dust kicking up in a trail directed at the four Sliders.
"Quinn we've got to get out of here," urged Wade, her eyes wide and terrified.
"Mr Mallory, the house," Arturo pointed at the small building some fifty yards to their left.
"Come on, let's go before they come back," Rembrandt shouted seeing the two aircraft cruise westward and then start to turn.
The four sliders ran, their feet heavy across the thick dusty terrain. The sound of the aircraft nearing.
As they reached the steps into the house the laser fire commenced again, this time seemingly more accurate and nearer. The dust kicked up closer as the first plane passed overhead, missing his targets.
***
The pilot swore under his breath.
"You're up Sam. Last chance. I'm homeward!" he threatened his friend as he pushed the nose of his plane upwards and headed away from the house and the four people.
"Don't worry, rely on me!" his friend chimed as he pushed his plane down and aimed the laser gun towards the small group which had reached the steps.
"I'll get one of you and that's for sure," he threatened as he pushed the red button and the laser arc raced out and downwards, tracing a pattern in the dust as it neared its target. Didn't matter which one. So long as he left his mark somewhere. His reputation was at stake. Nice Christmas present for the ones he missed. Pity about anyone he got though.
***
As the plane passed overhead the sliders heard the laser beam arc. The four friends flattened themselves against the steps and prayed. There was nowhere left to go. They couldn't get inside the house and couldn't risk standing on the steps. They had to hope the pilot's aim was bad.
The plane passed on its way, its deadly gift given to the group below. The silence which followed was deafening. Not a creature stirred.
Arturo pulled himself to his feet and looked at his three friends. He watched as Rembrandt moved himself into a sitting position and rubbed at his head.
"Man, that was close," he declared unhappily and looked up at Arturo.
He saw the Professor move towards the two younger sliders, concern mirrored on his face. Their still silent forms lay side by side at the bottom of the steps.
Arturo swallowed and reached down to touch them.
As he started to turn Quinn over, he felt Rembrandt join him silently at his side and watched as his hand reached to turn Wade onto her back, a small trickle of blood traced across her forehead. He couldn't see any obvious wounds on Quinn but his eyes were closed.
Rembrandt closed his eyes and put his hand to his forehead.
"I think they're dead," his only words as Arturo rose to his feet and stared in silent agony at his two friends.
oOo
A low moan issued from Wade's lips as she opened her eyes and struggled to get up.
"No, sweetheart, just you lay there for a minute," Rembrandt gently pushed the determined form of Wade back against the step. Relief, an intoxicating feeling running through his system.
"Quinn, Quinn. Wake up my boy. Come on, wake up." Arturo's voice seemed to have no effect. Quinn's eyes remained closed.
As he felt gently for any injuries, the Professor noticed a small burn mark to the right of his left shoulder. The sweater was singed all right. As he pulled it back he saw the wound quite clearly. It was a clean laser burn.
"Quinn!" Wade struggled against Rembrandt's arm, as she tried to force him to let her get to her feet and turn to her friend.
"Let the Professor take care of him,Wade. You ain't gonna do no good if that pretty head of yours gets even more banged up than it is," Rembrandt urged as he firmly held onto her, and eyed the nasty wound on her forehead with unease.
Wade felt a rush of dizziness and slumped back. She was weak and her head was starting to thump. Reaching up, she fingered the sticky liquid and pulled a face as she examined her fingers.
"See, now you do what I say, okay?" Rembrandt insisted firmly and putting an arm around her moved her to a more comfortable sitting position and let her rest against him. He knew she was eyeing the prone form of Quinn with apprehension. Hell he was worried as well, but two minutes earlier they thought both their friends were dead. Now it seemed like Quinn was at least alive and Wade was okay, well more or less.
Rembrandt squeezed her gently.
"We have to seek medical help somewhere, young Mallory has a nasty wound in his shoulder" Arturo stated, rising to his feet and looking down anxiously at Quinn.
"What about this place?" Rembrandt asked, looking over his shoulder and up the steps at the front door of the house.
"Seems deserted, Mr Brown, but yes, I agree it's as good a place as any to try. We ought to get our two young friends inside anyway. We don't know whether those maniacs will come back and......"
His words were interrupted by a creaking sound behind him.
"Those maniacs will kill you if you stay outside. Who are you and more to the point what are you doing on my property?" Laura's head moved in an arc, seemingly scanning the four people one by one.
"Yes, madam. We'd be in your debt if you would allow us the privilege of waiting inside until our friend recovers, or perhaps help us in seeking medical help," Arturo offered, putting his best smile forward and extending his hand. "Maximillian Arturo at your service," he added.
Laura stared silently and then reaching out, she placed her hand forwards and found his own and shook it.
"Laura Mayer," she introduced quietly. "You got any more hurt out here?" she added questioningly.
"She has a minor injury we think, but we would be grateful if......"
"You all come in. I'm not about to turn people in need away. The world might have gone mad, but I haven't," she answered, her lips set.
"Matt, come and lend a hand," she called and a blond haired boy arrived at the top of the steps.
Laura felt for her son's shoulders and squeezed them gently.
"Help with the girl. I'll help get this one in," she turned to Arturo.
"You'll have to show me," she said as she came down the steps and stood next to Arturo.
At that moment the Professor noticed her eyes. The dullness of the pupils, the flatness were all too obvious. He hadn't noticed and now he did.
Laura was blind.
"Allow me," he started to say.
"I'm capable, just point him out," Laura repeated firmly, her jaw set hard. She hated being treated different. She simply hated it.
Arturo watched in amazement as Laura lifted Quinn's shoulders and rested his head against her chest. She motioned to Arturo to take his legs.
"Don't go being so amazed." she remarked and then added, "I can tell, don't you fret. I don't have to see your face to know what you're thinking."
A bright smile crossed her face and Arturo could swear she was looking directly at him.
"Look I might have no eyes, but with no men around we develop muscles and skills to lift," she explained and laughed. "Having no eyes doesn't mean no muscles," she added.
She grunted as she took the whole of the weight of Quinn's upper body against her own and helped the Professor into the door with him.
She seemed to have a sixth sense as to direction and obstacles. She didn't trip once or bang into the doorway. Her sense of direction was perfect.
"No men?" Rembrandt echoed as he put an arm around Wade and allowed Matt to hold her other arm and guide them into the house.
"Yeah, where've you been for the past hundred years? Hey, you're not from the Alliance are you?" Laura stopped suddenly, her grip on Quinn relaxing.
The Professor felt his end's weight increase and he winced. His back was taking too much strain. He knew he would suffer later on.
"Madam, I can assure you that we are not "from the Alliance" whatever that is. Please can we go inside and I will attempt to explain everything to you," Arturo panted as he struggled to take the extra weight.
Laura lifted again, much to his relief, and looked him squarely in the eye. Even though he knew she couldn't see him, it made him distinctly uncomfortable.
"Fine. But you'd better not be lyin' to me," she replied and eased Quinn through the door and into the interior.
"In here," she backed herself into a small room which fronted the house and groaned as she finally placed Quinn onto a bed.
Arturo straightened his back and winced.
"Good God woman, you must be strong," he remarked as he watched her pull a cover over the still unconscious form of his friend, not bothering to ease out any of her own muscles and joints.
"I am what nature made me and when it played dirty tricks on me I've become what I've had to be to cope, simple really," she replied and smiled at him.
Arturo smiled back. She was a good looking woman now he came to look closely at her, out of the glare of the light outside.
She swept her blond hair back from her face and pushed it behind her ear, bending over Quinn and examining his wound carefully and deftly with her fingers.
"Nasty lazer burn. But it's clean and feels as though it hasn't got to any vital organs or anything by its position. Can't say for sure though." Laura shook her head and turned her face up to Arturo.
"Can you do anything for it?" Arturo asked, his fingers mentally crossed that this diminutive but resolute figure before him would be able to help them.
"Sure. I've coped with animals worse than this. His heart's the only vital organ round there. Frankly, if he'd been hit there then he'd be just plain dead," she replied and moved out of the door.
Arturo glanced at Quinn. He moaned slightly and turned to his side. Good, he was coming round. The Professor felt Wade move to stand next to him.
"Child, you should be resting," he admonished gently.
"I can't, Professor. Not while he's there like that," she replied and turned her eyes towards him.
He reached down and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.
"Get that head of yours sorted out and then you can sit with him if you like," he remarked quietly and moved her back as Laura returned to squeeze past them..
Laura turned her head to Wade as she went to Quinn's bed.
"Matt says you got a nasty head wound. I'll take care of that in a minute," she commented as she pulled back the sweater and t-shirt and started to tend to Quinn's shoulder, feeling it carefully as she did it.
Quinn opened his eyes. The blur started to become distinct now and he gazed up into Laura's face.
She smiled, sensing his stirring.
"Good to have you back," she remarked gently and pasted a white cream onto the lazer burn.
He winced.
"You'll be up with your friends as soon as you know it," she added and taped a large white pad across the wound.
"Here, these tablets will help with the pain," she said, thrusting two white pills into his mouth and lifting his head she put a glass of water to his lips.
Quinn swallowed the tablets and then caught sight of his two friends.
He noticed the blood trail down the side of Wade's face and tried to sit up.
"Wade..." he started.
"Oh no you don't. Back you go. She'll be fine. Now you're fixed up, I'll sort her out," Laura said firmly and pushed him back to the bed.
"I'm fine," Wade called over her shoulder as Laura gripped her arm as she passed her, and steered her firmly from the room and into the bathroom to tend to her head wound.
Arturo turned to shut the door, to let Quinn get some rest.
"Professor, is everyone okay? I mean Remmy as well?" Quinn called as the Professor started to leave.
"Yes, my boy, Mr Brown is fine as well. I'll come and talk to you later," he added as he left. He could see Laura's shape in the bathroom hovering over the seated shape of Wade, her face turned upwards as the wound was bathed and dressed.
As Arturo closed the bedroom door he took the timer from his pocket. He was grateful he'd slid with it. Otherwise it could have been hit with laser fire. The consequences didn't bear thinking about.
He looked at the display and shook his head. Thirty five hours'til the slide. He hoped his two friends would be up to traveling by then. If not they'd have to anyway, there was nothing that could be done about it.
The small voice which interrupted his thoughts and burst through the tranquility of silence was Matthew's. He stared at Arturo and then turned to run. The bathroom his destination.
"Mommy, that man. He's got one of those remote control things, like we found downstairs. Mommy it's got blue numbers on it, like the one Uncle Quinn used to have!!"
The words punched through Arturo like a knife.
oOo
Laura came from the bathroom slowly, wiping the last traces of Wade's blood from her fingers with a cloth. She stared in Arturo's direction and then turned her face to Matthew.
"Go and get Briony," she ordered quietly, her unseeing eyes fixed on the Professor.
"But Mom," the boy protested.
"Do it," Laura insisted.
"You said you weren't Alliance people. I believe you're telling the truth. But there's just one poblem - who are you and what are three men doing free and roaming in Force territory?" Laura's eyes seemed to bore into Arturo's.
"Madam. We've been away for a long time. We don't know anything about the Force or the Alliance. I really do wish you would believe me." Arturo didn't know what else to say. He could say all the usual dumb things like they were from a parallel dimension. Would she believe him? He looked at her determined face. It radiated intelligence and understanding. Perhaps telling her was the best thing. He watched as Matthew and Briony came to be by their mother's side. The girl was a smaller version of her mother. Fair hair, determined eyes and clear skin interspersed with freckles from the constant sunshine during the summer.
"And that device Matt mentioned?" Laura pursed her lips as she waited for a reply.
Wade moved to be by Arturo's side. He needed support, and she wanted to help him.
"A transport device," Arturo answered slowly.
"Transport? To where? I've never heard of a transport device that small," she remarked.
"Your son indicated that you have a similar device downstairs," Arturo replied and looked at Matthew. The boy pulled his sister closer to him.
"It's not mine. It was my very good friend's house. He stored some equipment in the basement. He worked there all the time until they called him up. He was nineteen. That was a few years back now. Now they take boys when they're ten. They're running out of men, so they take boys.
"Matt called him Uncle Quinn," Wade observed.
She eyed the Professor. So far she was sure they hadn't mentioned their own Quinn's name. Perhaps that was for the best right now.
"Matt was little when we moved here. Quinn let us stay here when my Jack died. He was like a brother to me. He was Jack's friend really but that didn't matter. He looked after us like real kin." Laura swallowed, the memories of her lost husband and dear friend almost too much to bear in a single thought. She composed herself and straightened up.
"Anyhow, it's me that's doing the askin' of questions. You haven't answered why you're three men traveling together in this zone. I haven't heard of men not in uniform in these parts for years now."
Arturo swallowed hard. This was going to be difficult. If the young woman before him was as intelligent as she appeared to be, explaining their arrival might not be such a problem. If she didn't believe them though...
Wade's mind was whirring. If the Quinn of this world had stored sliding equipment in this basement then there was a possibility that the machine downstairs could get them home.
"May we take a look in the basement, at the equipment. Just to see if it is the same as ours?" she asked tentatively, studying Laura's face.
Laura turned her sightless eyes to Wade.
"You sure aren't answering my questions are you? The basement is out of bounds. Quinn asked me not to let anyone down there and I'll not betray his trust. Even though he's dead I'll not betray him. Only us, only us. We're the only ones allowed down there. At Christmas there's always a message for us. He marked it on his tapes for each year."
Wade's heart sank. So this Quinn was dead. It figured somehow. The house had an air of melancholy which hung over it. The young woman in front of her was determined, of that Wade had no doubt. Getting a peek in the basement was not going to be easy.
Laura suddenly moved.
"I'm goin' to make us somethin' to eat. The kids are hungry and I daresay you are too. When we've eaten we'll talk some more." She tossed her head and moved purposefully towards the kitchen at the rear of the house.
Rembrandt stuck his hands in his pockets and moved across to be with his friends.
"Man, that's one determined woman," he observed, looking at the retreating figure of Laura.
"Professor, we've got to get into the basement," Wade declared as she turned quickly and faced Arturo.
The Professor watched her face lose its color instantly and she staggered backwards.
"Oh, oh, careful sweetheart," Remmy said as he caught the swaying girl and moved her firmly into the sitting room and the safety of a sofa.
"I suggest you rest that head of yours. We need both you and young Quinn ready to depart in two days. You leave the undercover work to Mr Brown and myself, eh Mr Brown?" Arturo suggested as he placed a cushion gently under Wade's head and patted her arm.
Wade nodded wordlessly. Her head was swimming so badly she was grateful to have her body in a horizontal position and unlikely to fall over. She closed her eyes.
"You know, young Wade is correct. The possibility that there's a sliding machine in the basement is very likely from what we've heard. If we can look at it we might find that the Quinn of this world was able to slide in perfect control." Arturo whispered as they stood near to the door and eyed the kitchen warily.
"Yeah, then we can slide home using his machine," Rembrandt breathed excitedly.
"Precisely, Mr Brown. Precisely." Arturo stroked his chin and pondered their predicament.
"Tonight. We'll take a look tonight. When everyone's asleep you and I will take a trip down into this basement and see how we get on." Arturo smiled and clapped Rembrandt on the shoulder. "For now, I suggest we show willing to our hostess," he added and smiled broadly.
Remmy grinned back.
***
The meal was delicious. Laura had taken pride in preparing it, even though the ingredients were few and far between, she'd made the most of what she had.
Arturo leant back and sighed with contentment, patting his ample stomach.
"I gather you enjoyed that, Professor?" Laura asked as she passed a rather large piece of rhubarb pie to him for dessert.
"Words fail me madam," he replied, and reaching across took her hand gently in his own and put it to his lips.
Laura smiled.
"Got the gift of speech, this one," she observed as she passed a similar sized portion to Remmy.
"Man I'm finished," Remmy groaned, holding his sides and looking at the pie reluctantly.
Wade smirked. She declined the piece which she was offered and sat back. Her head felt better thanks to some tablets which Laura had insisted she take.
She pulled herself fowards and looked across at their hostess.
Laura turned swiftly towards her and stared sightlessly back.
Wade felt uncomfortable. She knew the woman in front of her couldn't see her but she still felt distinctly uncomfortable.
"Don't feel bad. I can sense when someone's staring at me, Wade, that's all," Laura offered and smiled. "It's a kind of sixth sense. You develop more senses than you realize you've got when you lose one of the others," she continued.
Wade looked across the room at the Christmas Tree. It's branches hung with round shiny baubles, tinsel draped across it's spreading arms. On the top sat a small angel.
Wade smiled. She'd forgotten it was Christmas. But they'd slide before they could enjoy it on this world. She hoped that they would arrive in another world where it was celebrated. It wouldn't be the same if they had to spend Christmas in some desert or something.
"Do you like our tree?"
The little voice crossed the table and interrupted Wade's thoughts.
She turned and met it's owner.
Briony was smiling, her eyes sparkling as she watched Wade's obvious enjoyment of their beloved tree.
"It's lovely. Where did you get it?" Wade asked interestedly. The landscape outside looked barren to her.
"Oh, it's not real. Daddy always tried to get a real one, but when he died and most of the trees died, Uncle Quinn bought this one so we would never be without one again."
The little girl's smile lit up the room as she looked proudly at the tree.
Wade felt a lump in her throat. Typical Quinn to do something as simple, yet as important, as provide this family with its own everlasting Christmas tree.
As Wade moved up the stairs for an early night, Arturo and Rembrandt sat themselves down in front of the open fireplace to talk with the young woman who held the key to a chance to get home.
oOo
The fire crackled loudly in its grate, sharp tongues of orange flame licking hungrily at the wood which lay nestled in the bottom.
Its warmth was comforting and Arturo held his hands out towards it.
"Jack loved this house. He visited with Quinn as often as he could," Laura commented as she sank down into a comfortable armchair opposite. She smoothed a piece of hair back and rubbed her hands together.
"Madam..." Arturo began.
"Please. I don't like formality. There's too much of it in the world already. Call me Laura. It's my name," she replied smiling.
"Very well. Laura then," Arturo said and lowered his eyes.
"Laura, if we were to tell you a story so fantastic you'd believe we had gone quite simply mad. And if that story somehow fitted in with something you already know about. Would you give us a chance?" he asked looking into her blind eyes.
"I'm open to suggestions," she remarked slowly and placing her hands in her lap she sat back and regarded him.
"A couple of years ago, my friends and I embarked on an adventure, none of us thought would ever happen in our lifetimes. That adventure has led us to many places, but never home. Now it has led us here. We're only here for a few hours but this house...this house which belonged to your dear friend, could hold the secret of our way home." Arturo paused. He couldn't gauge her reaction.
Laura sat wordlessly and then spoke.
"I'm listening".
"We are travelers. At least travelers of a kind. We are traveling to worlds which are parallel to this one. The device which we have is the key to our travels. Your friend, your Quinn, was working on a machine which also traveled to other worlds. He has a similar device. The fact is, your Quinn's machine could hold the secret to our way home."
"You keep saying "your Quinn". There's only one Quinn. I don't understand," Laura blurted and sat forward, her eyes darting around her.
She felt confused. These men, these strangers, even the girl. They were beginning to frighten her. All the talk about other worlds. Sure she'd heard it all before, but that was a different time. A long time ago. She'd almost forgotten about it. It wasn't time to relive it all again. It just wasn't time, and yet they were making her.
"There's more than one Quinn."
The voice came from the door. The tall but wavering figure of Quinn stood framed in the doorway, his arm around Wade, resting on her for support.
"Wade told me what was going on. I've got to persuade you to let us into the basement," he said and then sat on the side of a chair, his hand lifted to his shoulder rubbing at it. He winced.
The color in Laura's face fled and she put her hands on the sides of the chair and eased herself to her feet.
Her hands were visibly trembling.
"That..that voice. I'll never forget that voice," she uttered as she stared in Quinn's direction. "It can't be. It simply can't be. What tricks are you playing with me?"
She moved across to him and slowly put her hands to his face.
Wade watched in fascination as she moved her fingers around the contours of this face, gently and slowly and then traced his lips with one finger tip.
She stepped back and a small cry sprang from her lips.
"How? This can't be. I identified you. I had my eyes then. I identified your body. You were dead. You were so dead it hurt!" she cried and the tears broke free and tumbled freely down her cheeks.
"This isn't your Quinn, Laura. This is our Quinn. From a parallel world. From our world," Arturo said and he reached for the woman and pulled her close, letting the tears tumble down his own arms as well as hers.
Wade felt a hard lump in her throat and a tear trickle unbidden down her own cheek. She knew what she would feel like to lose a friend like Quinn. She knew in her heart what this woman was reliving, and it hurt her too.
***
Laura sat, composed now. The tears exhausted. The pain dissipating. Her hand entwined with Arturo's, his soothing stroking of her arm pacifying her gently.
She talked at length. About her Quinn. Her dear long gone friend.
"He told me all sorts of things about other worlds. I believed him. He was so gentle, so truthful. He wouldn't have lied to me. He respected me, just as he'd respected Jack. I just didn't have time to go with him or get involved. I had the two children and I knew, I had to enjoy Matt before they took him away from me. The rumours that they'd start to take children were getting more frequent. I wish we'd gone with him now. Maybe if we had we'd have all stayed away, Quinn as well. Then he'd be alive and my Matt would be seeing another Christmas with us. Jack knew what Quinn was doing. But he couldn't go....wouldn't. He felt responsible for us. He should have gone. At least he'd still be alive."
"Regret's a wasted emotion, Laura. Best not to dwell on what could have been. Let's try to think on what we can do to help you, in the little time we have before we have to leave," Arturo said.
"You can't help me. We're stuck here. Quinn told me it's wrong to take others from their own worlds. He'd done it once and he told me that it all went wrong. Traveling like he did, that would be different. No we're stuck. I know it. But I'll help you. You deserve a chance to get home, to your folks. I expect they miss you," she said and smiled sadly.
Arturo sat and gazed in wonder at this woman, her feelings and compassion for others overtaking any feelings of self.
"May we see the basement. See if we can get the machine to work?" Quinn asked, wincing with pain as he rose to his feet.
"Dear boy, I think rest is more applicable," Arturo suggested as he saw the color of Quinn's face.
"No, Professor, I've got to see this. It might be our chance at last," Quinn replied.
"Come with me, I'll get the key." Laura moved to the walnut cabinet which sat against the wall and took a large key from it.
"We use it as a shelter when the bombers come but it's not often. That's how Matt spotted the device like yours. He wasn't supposed to touch things but boys will be boys," she explained as she moved the door back on its hinges and started down the stairs.
"Lights?" Arturo asked as he watched Laura descend effortlessly into the dark interior.
"Sorry. Habit I guess. Don't need them so I figure no one else does," she replied and chuckled.
The lights flooded the basement and the Sliders gazed at the sliding equipment in front of them. Quinn examined each item carefully and spotted a video machine and monitor in the corner.
"How's the electricity?" he asked apprehensively, turning his face towards Laura.
Laura's heart did the leap it had when she'd first heard his voice.
"We've got our own generator. Something Quinn insisted on when electricity got too hard to get your hands on. Too darn expensive and often got cut off. He hated being without power, said it was too dangerous for his travels, so he bought the generator," Laura explained as she flopped into a chair at the side of the room.
"Well?" Wade asked excitedly, hanging over Quinn's shoulder.
"It's all here and it seems okay. I mean it's not burnt out or anything. I'll get her fired up and we'll see. How long to our slide, Professor?"
Arturo pulled the timer from his pocket and cautiously examined the display. It's four in the morning. We've got nineteen hours thereabouts.
"It's Christmas Eve," Laura observed solemnly.
"Yeah, I sure do miss Christmases back home," Rembrandt said unhappily. "All those TV commercials and Santa Clauses out on the street corners!"
"Yes, and the bright lights in the store windows," Wade sighed and sat down on the steps.
Laura didn't speak. Her Christmases hadn't been anything like the ones they were describing. Not ever. She couldn't remember when they last had anything resembling a television service and shops were deserted and empty for the most part, except for the odd blackmarket food store. It sounded like paradise to her.
Still there was always a new message from Quinn to look forward to. She'd have to find the tape for this year. He marked it and Matt always read out the right date for her. She listened to the television as it hummed into life.
The television in the corner flickered on and Quinn inserted a video into the slot of the player. There had been a whole pile of them, mainly dated with Christmas dates and years. He pulled out the one marked Christmas 1996, and put it on one side. It was for Laura. He ought to play it for her but his eye caught another one and this one in particular looked very interesting. He didn't have much time. The label was marked:-
"Slide".
oOo
"I can't get it to work. Man, this is frustrating," Quinn said angrily. His shoulder was hurting like mad and he was feeling pretty fragile, with a thundering headache and a feeling as though he were floating and then falling. Basically he wished he could just lie down and stay there. But there wasn't time. A simple thing like a video tape and he couldn't get the machine to play it. It had been something like an hour.
The children had ambled down to the basement too now, and were sitting on either side of their mother watching the frantic activity of the four strangers.
Briony was munching a piece of toast with one hand, and between bites was sucking her thumb.
Matt just stared at Quinn and then at his mother. Now Quinn was on his feet, Matt recognized his face from the videos they saw every year.
"Is it marked as a Christmas one?" Laura asked interestedly.
"Nope. Just "Slide"," Quinn replied absently.
"Sometimes Quinn puts messages on the Christmas ones and it refers to other tapes. Try this year's Christmas one," she suggested hopefully.
"Sure," Quinn replied. Anything was worth a shot. Anyway, it was good that on Christmas Eve this family would see and hear their old friend again.
He shoved the Christmas tape into the player and hit "PLAY". The machine whirred into action and while he half listened, Quinn moved to look at the main sliding machine. Arturo was seated, his arms resting on a bench examining the alternate Quinn's timer to see how it differed.
"Different configuration," Arturo muttered quietly and pointed to some components which Quinn couldn't recognise. This world was definitely different, and not just in its political structure.
Quinn settled down to help.
Rembrandt and Wade watched with interest as the Christmas 1996 message unfolded.
Laura's Quinn had shorter hair, but in essence there wasn't much difference. From time to time Wade noticed Matt stare from the screen to Quinn.
The pleasantries having ended on the tape, the alternate Quinn came nearer to the video camera which was making the film.
In a quieter voice he held a tape to the screen. "SLIDE " was written on the front.
The voice started to explain.
"Quinn, Professor, get over here. You gotta see this," Wade called excitedly.
The two left their bench and sat themselves down on the steps to watch the tape.
"Laura," the voice started. "This Christmas tape is my last to you. There are two reasons why. The first is that Matt is ten in a few days time. Happy birthday, Matt. If you've survived long enough to see this tape Laura, then this is my final gift to you. I can't help you personally because I can't be with you, but I can leave you a means to get away with Matt before they turn him into a soldier. A soldier you don't want him to be and his country doesn't need. I know they're going to start taking boys when they're ten. Trust me. By the time you see this, the whole sorry process will have started."
Laura swallowed. Quinn had known this would happen. He hadn't frightened her before, he'd waited until he needed to tell her.
Quinn's voice continued.
"You need to open this tape "Slide" up. There's a strip of sticky tape holding the whole thing together inside. The tape can't go around while it's fixed like that. Mostly everyone will just think it's faulty. When you've removed the sticky tape, play it. I'll explain everything on it."
There was a pause and the voice continued.
"Laura, one last thing. I'm sorry I haven't been able to see yours and Jack's kids grow up. I'm sorry I wasn't around for you. I would have been if I could, you know that. Take the gift I'm offering you and make a life for yourself. I'll never forget you."
Wade turned and watched the tears freewheel down Laura's face. She felt her own prick her eyes.
Quinn took a small screwdriver and opened the tape marked "Slide". He removed the sticky tape from inside and put the whole cassette back together again.
As the tape played and Laura listened, Wade saw a look of determination cross her face.
When it had finished, Laura rose to her feet and turned her face towards Quinn, reaching out her hands towards him.
He moved towards her and took them in his own.
"Can you do this for us?" she asked simply.
"Yes," he replied slowly.
"Thank you," she answered and taking her two children by the hands she moved to the stairs.
"How long?" she asked over her shoulder.
"About five hours," Quinn replied.
"Come on kids, we're going on a holiday. Let's get our things together," she said as she climbed the steps.
"And Sandy?" Matt asked as he smiled.
"And Sandy," Laura replied and hugged her two children to her.
***
"Quinn, you understand what this means?" Arturo said as he sat down heavily next to the bench.
"We go on sliding and Laura and the kids get away from here," Quinn answered and looked Arturo steadily in the face.
"We might have got home," Arturo reminded him.
"What would you have done?" Wade asked as she joined him and looked at Arturo with accusing eyes.
"Exactly the same as you," Arturo answered and smiled.
Wade flung her arms around his neck.
"I never doubted you," she whispered.
"Oh yes you did," he whispered back.
She smiled at him and kissed his cheek.
"There's no chance of the machine taking us all home, is there Q-Ball?" Rembrandt asked.
"No, the Quinn of this world specifically set this machine after his last slide. It's set for a world he called "Utopia". He's set a failsafe which means we can't interfere with it. It will only send Laura and the kids there and nowhere else. Once that's happened the machine will shut down and self destruct."
"Wow, he sure was careful!" Wade muttered.
"And very astute. He's made sure they escape before Matt gets taken away and he's made sure they'll never be followed," Arturo added.
"Why didn't he let them escape before that?" Remmy asked.
"I guess he always hoped he'd come back. Giving himself a good four to five years of possibilities allowed him some leeway," Quinn replied smiling.
***
Laura and the children stood in front of the vortex. Briony shielded her eyes from the wind and Matt hung onto Sandy's lead with a vengeance.
Laura turned to the four sliders behind her, and put down her bags for a moment.
"I'll never be able to thank you," she said in a hushed voice as she kissed Quinn on the cheek. She reached up to finger his face gently, as though running her fingers along the shape would help her to remember forever.
She turned to Wade and hugged her, and then reached up and kissed Rembrandt on the cheek.
Finally she turned to Arturo, her eyes moist.
"Your friendship...I'll never forget you," she breathed and threw her arms around his neck.
Arturo hugged her back "It's been a privilege," he whispered gently and smiled. Laura reached up and put both her hands around his face. "For us both," she said quietly and smiled.
Arturo watched with a lump in his throat as she moved away, and stepped with the children into the mouth of the vortex.
The whirlpool danced momentarily and then closed in on itself. Within seconds the main machine blew, its light darkening into a charred shell of its former glory.
***
The four figures spilt out from the tunnel and landed on hard uncompromising pavement.
Wade dusted herself off and stared at the bright lights which surrounded her. The musical assault on her ears was deafening, as she helped Remmy to his feet and they turned to check on the others.
Quinn winced.
"Your shoulder still hurting?" Wade asked as she took his hand and helped haul him to his feet.
"Yeah, a bit," he replied and then took in the sights around him.
A rotund figure walked slowly towards them, long white beard and big red hat. The bell in his hand was tolling interminably.
Wade glanced at the other figures walking around. They were all Santa Claus lookalikes.
Arturo looked at the enormous thirty foot tree which was centre stage, its thousand lights racing around it in myriads of patterns and colours.
"Welcome, dear friends. Welcome to Christmas Vacation land! A ten mile site devoted to fun and festive spirit. The fun starts here!" The voice on the tannoy pealed loudly as the four friends looked at one another.
Wade broke into peals of laughter and stared at Quinn.
"A Christmas Theme Park!" she exclaimed, excitedly.
He smiled broadly.
"Well, you did say you wanted to go somewhere they celebrated Christmas!" he said laughing.
Arturo looked unhappily at the flashing colored lights and garish plastic reindeer. "Lord preserve us," he said, shuddering visibly.
THE END