by Jules Reynolds
(c) Copyright June 1996
PART ONE
The huge white shape moved gracefully through the water. Its gaping mouth displayed the menacing teeth within. Its small eyes stared intently ahead.
It could see the smaller shapes ahead. Sense their terror deep within. It flicked its tail and glided towards its prey. It could almost taste the blood in anticipation of the kill.
The explosion of light which cascaded into the dark green depths shattered the darkness and destroyed the beast's stealth. Its prey scattered downwards in a swift co-ordinated movement, terror stricken and blinded by the brilliance.
It paused momentarily as the school of dolphins escaped at speed and considered its options.
The brilliant funnel of light spewed forth its contents into the water and then blinked away as quickly as it had arrived.
The great white shark hesitated. When it was sure the light had gone it started to move in for the kill. Fortune was smiling on it today. These were four larger, more significant mammals and they were there for the taking.
As it moved forwards it caught sight of the approaching beacons of light. They were far below but edged nearer with each second. Flicking its tail decisively it turned eastwards at speed. Away from the lights. Away from the terror they brought to the shark and those like it.
***
The sheer unexpected chill of the water took Quinn's breath and thrust it down his throat, along with as much fluid as his mouth could manage in a single, strangulated gasp.
His eyes stared frantically around him trying to gauge where they were, trying to find the others through the darkness of the churning water. He felt his lungs start to protest, the air within them dissipating slowly as fluid replaced it. He tried to close his mouth but the volume of liquid wouldn't let him. He felt the desperate death throes of his own body as it fought to take back the oxygen that belonged to it.
The vortex silently closed to behind him, its blue light a ghostly echo in the mirage of a dark green sea, unseen by those who approached silently from the depths of the seabed.
He spotted Wade a few feet beside him. Her hair waving gently in the current. In the fog of his confused mind she seemed to be tethered somehow to one spot, not drifting away from him - ethereal somehow.
Her eyes were shut and her face pale. He pulled himself forwards through the green water, feeling unspeakable things softly pass by his flesh as he did so. He had no time to brush the fronds of seaweed from his face or think about what the other things might be touching his skin. As he felt the final darkness creep across his own senses, his instincts kicked in for one last time and he thrust the timer into his pocket. He reached out to grab Wade's cold lifeless hand and gripped it tightly. They were drowning and he knew it. She had already lost her fight but wherever he went he wanted to make sure he took her with him.
***
The dark shapes moved effortlessly towards the four friends.
Only Rembrandt saw their rescuers arrive. Their faces were blurred and shapeless. His mind too fogged to concentrate, he watched several of them gather around Wade and cut away the seaweed from around her legs. He struggled to comprehend what he saw. Creatures. Small dark creatures. Being placed onto Wade's leg. His limbs went limp, his eyes closed, shutting away the horror and revulsion which he had felt.
Masks were placed on the four friends' faces, flooding their lungs with life-giving oxygen. Each body was lifted gently downwards, towards a darker, deeper place,
There was a dim light shining below them, guiding their rescuers to its source. There was no other direction to go than down. Above them, not even the dim light penetrated the depths. They were too deep for that.
***
Pain and extreme sickness flooded Quinn's system as his eyes opened reluctantly. A feeling of tremendous pressure on his chest, a pounding. He stared into the pale face of a young man leaning over him and pushing down hard on his sternum.
Quinn sat upright, pushing the man from him, grimacing as he struggled to breathe, and wiped the trickle of water which ran from the corner of his mouth to his shirt. The young man moved away quietly.
"Take it easy, Mr. Mallory." The reassuring voice of Professor Maximillian Arturo felt good to his ears as he swung his legs from the side of the bed on which he was lying.
His head swam as the room seemed to move. He gripped the bed to steady himself and then put a hand to his forehead and massaged it, remembering. His hair was still dripping, the remnants of the ocean dissipating on the bed beside him.
"The slide! We slid beneath water!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening at the memory. "The timer..." Panic welled up in his throat as he patted his pocket and found it empty.
"Easy, my boy. Easy. I took the liberty of removing it from your pocket when they brought you in," Arturo explained patiently as he produced the timer from his own pocket.
Arturo's hair was soaking wet, along with his clothes, a puddle of clear liquid surrounded his feet and continued to grow as drips fell to the ground. He stood smiling at his young student.
The room was large but stark and clinical. It contained little in the way of furniture. The exception being six single examination couches which lined the walls. In the center of the room was a metal table with an array of medical instruments and bandages neatly arranged on its surface.
Rembrandt was seated opposite to Quinn, his legs dangling from the side of one of the couches. He was wet but seemed to be physically okay.
Quinn turned to see who the young man was now tending to, his back turned away.
"Wade!" he exclaimed, remembering seeing her lifeless body next to him in the water. He pushed his wet hair from his eyes and moved to her bedside.
"She's fine Q-Ball," Rembrandt ambled over from the other side of the room. His voice was reassuring.
"Yes, and thanks to you my boy," Arturo added and patted him on the back.
"Me?" Quinn echoed, confused. He remembered grabbing hold of her hand. He assumed he let go after he lost consciousness. He couldn't remember anything anyway. He shook his head and banged the side of his ear to remove the liquid which remained.
"Seems like she had her foot caught in some sort of a sea plant. If you hadn't grabbed her hand they'd have missed her altogether. Some sort of a carnivorous thing which pulls its victims in to digest them," Rembrandt explained and then shuddered. He tried to remember something else. Something else which he'd seen happening to Wade, but it wouldn't come to him.
"Has she come round yet?" Quinn asked the man as he gazed down at her, his heart pounding as he listened to what happened. If he had not grabbed her hand in his last few seconds of breath, she would have died.
The young man shook his head. "No. We've had to keep her sedated to remove the weed from her ankle," he explained patiently. "It has a nasty habit of burrowing under the skin if given half a chance. We can't risk any being left there so we had to make sure we took it all away. Time will tell."
"Will she be all right?" Quinn asked. She looked so pale and still, she could have been dead if he didn't know better.
"Of course. A bit sore but fine." The man dismissed Quinn's worrying with a condescending smile and turned towards the door.
"I'll leave you to change out of your wet clothes, then you'll need to meet with one of the Council."
"The Council?" Arturo echoed, his eyes narrowing.
"Of course." The reply was quietly stated.
"What for?" Arturo added, his curiosity aroused.
"To decide where we're going to send you."
The door closed behind him leaving the three men to ponder his words.
PART TWO
Rembrandt emerged from a side room and grinned.
"Nice duds Remmy," Quinn murmured as he raised his eyes and gazed on his friend's attire. The vivid blue, all-in-one suit was loosely assembled, not too tight and looked comfortable to Quinn, but he didn't think it would look too good on the Professor and he was beginning to doubt whether he wanted to wear one either.
"Yeah, awesome, ain't they?" Remmy replied and chuckled. "They sure wouldn't have looked out of place when the Cryin' Man used to go on tour," he added smiling, and paced up and down the room.
"They got anything else in there?" Quinn nodded towards the room.
"Sure. Plenty of these and a few other things. Don't worry Q-Ball, you don't have to join my taste in clothes!" Rembrandt chuckled and moved over to Wade.
"Any change?" his face more serious as he turned to look at her. Quinn was sitting perched on the edge of her bed, holding her hand.
"None," Quinn answered quietly, but didn't look up.
As though their voices had stirred something within her, Wade began to move and she muttered something quietly.
"What's she saying?" Rembrandt looked puzzled.
"Dunno. She's not coherent," Quinn replied.
"Come on, Wade, wake up and talk to us," Rembrandt urged softly.
To their delight the small hand squeezed Quinn's fingers and her eyes opened slowly. For a moment her dark pupils didn't move, then they stared wildly and she sat up straight. It was as if she didn't see her friends. Her face registering sheer panic and shock. "Water! We slid into water! Quinn we're drowning. We're all drowning." Her voice grew louder, more panic stricken as she looked unseeing into his face. Her hands were shaking as she cried out.
Quinn gripped both her shoulders and held her tight. "Wade! We're okay. We're all okay. Calm down. You're all right!"
She gradually stopped her shaking and her eyes focused blearily on him. She slumped forwards against his chest and grabbed at his hand. "We're all okay?" she mumbled wearily.
"We're all okay," he replied and smiled. He wrapped both arms around her and hugged her. It was good to have her back.
Wade dropped back against the pillow and smiled softly at both Remmy and Quinn.
"Where are we?" she asked groggily.
"Apparently some sort of holding place for uninvited guests. Basic but dry." Quinn replied. He rose from the bed. "Rest while I get changed. You can change in a minute, if you don't mind cast off clothing."
"I'll sit with her Q-Ball," Rembrandt offered as he took his place on the bed and took Wade's hand in his.
"You okay Sweetheart?" Quinn heard him say as he grabbed Arturo and steered him into the side room to find dry clothes.
It took some considerable effort and imagination on Quinn's part to find something to fit Arturo. The clothes, for the most part, seemed destined for more slender bodies and seemed to be an odd assortment of styles, but they did find a loose fitting pair of trousers and billowing shirt which fit him well enough.
"Not my taste in clothes," Arturo observed drily as he gazed into a very large, full width mirror which made up most of one wall in the small side room.
"Mine either," Quinn acknowledged as he took stock of his own appearance and grimaced. He managed to find a set of trousers and top similar to the Professor's - in less ample proportions - which would do while their clothes dried. He couldn't help wondering who the clothes had belonged to. Maybe previous occupants of the "holding" room.
As he hung his wet things over a rail in the room and took a towel to his hair he started to hunt for something for Wade to slip into.
Across the room he spotted a rack of more feminine looking attire, and moved to look at what was on offer.
***
"Quinn this is awful!" Wade protested as she slipped into the black body suit and zipped up the front. "I look like something from a cheap sci- fi movie!" she declared, smoothing the front down and gazing at her reflection in disgust.
Her voice carried into the room where the three men waited apprehensively.
Quinn knew it was bad news to try to choose Wade's clothes, but they'd had trouble enough getting her into the side room to dress, with her foot still causing her pain. He doubted she would have wanted to have spent an eternity choosing an outfit.
"You look lovely, Miss Welles," Arturo offered soothingly as she emerged from the side room with a scowl on her face.
"Flatterer," she replied unappreciatively and then grimaced in pain, clutching at the wall for support.
"Your ankle?" Quinn inquired with concern. He took her arm and helped her to a chair.
"Yeah. I'm a bit dizzy and God my ankle's sore. Feels like something's been nibbling at bits of it," she observed and reached down to rub it. She withdrew her hand quickly. "Ouch, that's real bad," she squeaked and bit her lip.
The men exchanged worried looks. They had hoped the remnants of the plant had been totally removed. They hadn't felt it appropriate to fill Wade in on the seaweed's propensity to burrow under skin. Quinn knew what he would feel like in the circumstances and he didn't want Wade continually looking and scratching at her wound beneath the dressing.
"I would leave it alone, Miss Welles, if I were you," Arturo observed gently as he helped her to her feet.
"Yeah, think I will," she replied and moved slowly with them to the door.
"Have you brought the timer, Professor?" Quinn asked suddenly. He didn't want to risk losing it.
"In my pocket, dear boy. Don't panic." The Professor returned and smiled congenially. "And before anyone asks, we have forty eight hours until the next window opens." He patted the timer in his pocket. "Plenty of time for us to rest up. And Miss Welles can at least partly heal that ankle of hers before we slide." He smiled at Wade sympathetically.
Wade's ankle smarted fiercely but she wasn't going to complain. She hated fuss and that's what she'd get if she declared the pain she was in. It felt kind of funny too, like something was crawling all over it. She had to look at it.
"Guys. I gotta use the bathroom before we go anywhere," she declared suddenly and turned to limp through the door at the side of the room.
Once inside she pulled the lock across and put her sore ankle up onto the closed lavatory seat. The bandage was loose at the top and she peeled it back gingerly. Her heart was thudding slowly and she felt the sweat across her palms.
There were vivid red streaks just below the surface of her skin, working their way slowly up towards her knee and for all she knew beyond. She could see that an infection had started and goodness knows what else. It looked bad and felt worse. She swallowed hard and pulled the bandage back down, her stomach chilling at what she'd seen and what she was scared was happening. She leaned her hot head against the cold wall of the changing room and closed her eyes for a minute.
"Come on Wade." Quinn's voice filtered through her head and its thundering headache.
"Coming," she replied and took a deep breath. Wade moved to the basin and swilled her forehead with cold water. She dabbed it dry with a towel at the side and then opened the door.
"Okay, sweetheart?" Remmy asked as he reached out and put an arm across her shoulders.
She smiled at him as she emerged from the washroom and joined the men by the door. "Yeah, fine," she replied.
PART THREE
Wade limped out, holding onto Remmy's arm. She couldn't tell them what she felt. They had problems enough just being suspected intruders somewhere, without worrying about her.
The group left the room and entered the vast white expanse of corridor. The young man who had been tending to them earlier was talking quietly to another, older man. Quinn caught the tail end of the conversation.
"...the usual treatment. A few hours maximum. She needs to be removed before the meeting..."
The two men broke off their conversation and the younger man saluted as the older one moved away down the corridor.
"Good, you're dressed," he said.
"Are we prisoners, sir?" Arturo asked.
"We like to think of you as our guests until we are sure about your intentions," he replied evasively.
"We're prisoners," whispered Remmy quietly to Wade. She smiled back weakly. She couldn't care less if they were guests or prisoners. She wanted to lie down right at that moment.
"I see you're on your feet," the young man leaned forwards and touched Wade's shoulder affectionately. "Good. Any pain you're feeling will soon go. Don't worry," he reassured her, smiling.
Wade didn't feel convinced, not after she'd seen her leg. Still maybe he knew something she didn't. Infection sometimes resolved itself and looked worse than it was. She grit her teeth and prepared to walk behind the others.
The man indicated with his hand that they follow him down the long corridor which stretched in front of them.
The sterile white walls were windowless, the sole source of light was a long, unending transparent partition in the ceiling lending a harsh white glow to the clinical starkness of their surroundings. Wall and floor met in a smooth transition of color. It looked immaculate.
"Perhaps it's some kind of medical facility," Rembrandt observed quietly as he ran his fingers lightly along the surface of the wall. He paused to look at his fingertips as he withdrew them. There wasn't a mark on them. The surface was clinically spotless.
"Could be," replied Quinn absently. Quinn wasn't really listening to Remmy, his thoughts were on the slide in. Why had they slid into such depths of water? He had always assumed that the timer wouldn't land them into an environment which couldn't sustain their lives. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they'd just been lucky before. It threw a whole new light onto sliding. And a whole new dangerous outlook. They had to be within 500 miles of San Francisco. Theoretically, 500 miles could put them into the sea. It just hadn't ever done it before.
The pace was slow. For that, Wade was grateful. She hobbled, her arm resting on Rembrandt as they proceeded.
The young man didn't turn to look at them once. He was concentrating instead on the unending length of corridor in front of them.
Quinn found it all rather hypnotic.
They turned a corner suddenly and Arturo whistled. "My God," he breathed in awe, his eyes lighting up at the view in front of him.
Each of them greeted the panorama of their outside surroundings with amazement.
The huge glass porthole reached from the floor to the ceiling and was at least 15 feet wide. Their host stopped and leaned against the wall, allowing them time to gaze through it.
"Wow, look at this," Wade enthused, pushing through her pain to forget it momentarily. Her eyes glowed, as she limped slowly over to it. The dark ocean was studded with a thousand flickering lights.
To Wade it looked as though it had come straight from one of those bottled snowscenes you shake when you are a child. A small world encased within a world. Each light twinkled as the reflection from the water caught it and threw it in their direction.
Sometimes a small dash of light would flash from the left of the view, to the right. Quinn concentrated hard to see what he was looking at, the movement was so fast.
The vast underwater city stretched in every direction before his eyes. Huge domes which rose from the sea bed encased the lights of an underwater world within each of them. Giant glass tubes connected each dome to the other, through which flashes of light moved swiftly. Quinn finally decided that the lights dashing from left to right were craft of some sort.
Rembrandt shuddered as a huge, pure white fish moved swiftly past him, its size and shape unknown. He glimpsed a large row of razor sharp teeth in its jaw as it swept past, its eyes turning slowly at the side of its head as it proceeded to its destination, oblivious to the feelings it had aroused in the onlookers.
Arturo had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. If he slid nowhere else, the sight of this world would make it all worthwhile. "We must be in Atlantis," he murmured softly and shook his head.
The man turned angrily.
"Okay, let's cut the pretense, shall we? We all know there's no such place as Atlantis. And we all know why you're here. Spying is a Category one offense here in Haven, yet you Tellurians persist in trying to get in here. I'm not a Council member so I don't have the power to sentence you, but if I did I'd have all you Tellurian spies killed on sight."
Arturo bristled. "Young man, I can assure you that we are not "Tellurians" as you put it. We are visitors and are should be afforded some rights. We know nothing of Haven or spying and we'd like to speak to someone in charge right now."
The man laughed. "Oh you're about to see someone in charge all right." He started to move forwards and then turned back to face them. "You're very good, I'll give you that," he chuckled.
"Good at what?" Wade asked, curious at his reaction.
"We've been waiting for this kind of trickery from you Tellurians. But you're better than we imagined you'd be," he replied, pushing his blond hair from his eyes. There was malice in his voice. The words sounded twisted, bitter somehow. The atmosphere around them had changed, and not for the better.
Wade felt her stomach churning as she gazed at their now less friendly host, his eyes narrowing as he stared at them all. She felt hotter suddenly. The magic view of the underwater city had temporarily dissipated her pain. Now it was back with a vengeance.
"Tellurians?" Rembrandt whispered to Arturo. "Who the hell are the Tellurians when they're at home?"
Arturo shook his head.
Quinn pursed his lips and stayed silent. He didn't fully understand what was going on but having looked on the underwater city outside, he didn't like the way things were going at all.
The man in front of them swung around, hearing Rembrandt's words.
"Just stop the pretense. My job is to know every Haven resident You're not from Haven so you've got to be Tellurian," he accused, his glare unwavering as he looked at each of them.
"Look we're not from Haven or Telluria. So what would that make us?" Quinn challenged.
"That's impossible - you'd be one of us," came the quiet reply.
The man's eyes were narrowed as he stared at them. The warmth which they had seen when they first met him had long since fled, replaced with a cold unwavering stare. It made Quinn feel cold just looking at him.
"Okay, so how do you know we're not one of you?" Wade challenged. She felt irritable. Her leg was beginning to burn as well as ache, and she leaned heavily on Quinn's arm.
"Of course you're not one of us. We knew you were intruders when we rescued you. Only Tellurians attempt to come in here. Besides you don't have these."
He reached up and pulled his collar down and backwards, turning his head so that they could see below his neck.
The three inch gill was positioned beneath his neck, and had been hidden by his clothing. Rembrandt watched in fascination at its movement echoing those made by the young man's chest. He remembered the image he'd seen as he'd begun to drown. His heart leapt. He'd seen these people in the water, their gills moving slowly and the trail of air bubbles moving behind them as they swam to their rescue. The memory haunted him.
PART FOUR
"Man, this place and that guy with those gills, gives me the creeps." Rembrandt nervously paced the small room they'd been left in, his one hand stuffed in his pocket.
"My dear Mr. Brown, creepy it may well be, but the opportunity to see an underwater city such as this is every scientist's dream," Arturo postulated as he leaned against the wall and started to contemplate the mural designs which adorned the wall opposite.
The designs were almost Aztec in appearance but were obviously maps and drawings of the world.
Arturo still felt the sense of awe he experienced when he first stared out of the porthole into the dark deep ocean, with Haven laid out in its splendor in front of them.
"I agree it's fascinating, Professor. But face it, it's a prison by any other name," Quinn answered quietly. He was propped in the corner, arms folded. There were no chairs or seating of any kind in the room. It was either designed for short waits or for knawing down the stamina of the occupants forced to wait in it for long periods of time. They'd been left there for two hours now. Both doors were locked and there were no windows. Quinn had looked over the murals with interest but now he was bored and getting apprehensive. He eyed Wade. She was sitting on the floor, rubbing vigorously at her leg. She stared at her hands as she did it. The bandage showed signs of blood leaking through to the outside.
"I wouldn't do that Wade," he advised gently. He crouched down next to her.
She appeared not to hear him, or if she did she ignored him totally. He moved his hand onto hers and firmly gripped it.
"I said stop it," he said firmly.
She ignored him and shook his hand free angrily. Her face was flushed and her eyes cloudy. He wanted to feel her forehead for fever but decided against it. If she did have a fever he couldn't do anything about it. He moved away and shrugged. He wasn't in the mood for arguing with her. If she wanted to make her leg worse, then who was he to stop her?
His indifference towards the harm she was doing herself surprised him, but only just. He didn't seem to care. In fact he felt strangely content as he propped himself quietly out of harm's way, just gazing at his friends. He felt...detached...yes, that was it! He felt detached, not really a part of the scene. The feeling terrified him, and yet pleased him at the same time.
The Professor stared blissfully at the huge pictures in front of him, his glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose as he peered intently at them.
"You know, I do believe that these pictures are a sort of history book. There's a certain sequence to the images. See...I believe this is a map of this world. See how different everything is. Observe the placement of the continents...if you could call them that...the oceans. See how different the maps are to those of our own world."
Quinn gazed at the first picture on the wall and studied it intently. Arturo was right. It certainly seemed to be a map of Earth, but the images were different, frighteningly different.
"Explanation, Professor?" he inquired, turning to look at his mentor with renewed interest.
"Well, I'm no expert at geography but I do know a little and the rest we can guess. Look, this land mass here." He pointed a finger towards the land mass to the left of the map.
"This I believe to be what we called Laurasia. On our world, around 40 million years ago the single land mass which made up the earth, the pangaea, split apart and became two continents. The northern continent, Laurasia and the southern continent, Gondwanaland. You can see that the continents on this world are in the same state as ours were some 40 million years ago, but with a few geological variations. From the looks of this map, what would be the Californian coast is separated from the rest of Laurasia by this quite vast sea. I would say that this Telluria they are referring to is our Californian coastline."
"It doesn't look big enough to be a threat to these people," Rembrandt commented.
"The size of the land is irrelevant to a large extent. Great Britain colonized much of the world with a much smaller land mass than this. It's just as likely that Telluria is the seat of power on the continent of Laurasia and is as powerful as America is on our Earth. Perhaps more powerful for all we know," Arturo added thoughtfully.
"How d'ya get that Professor?" Rembrandt asked.
"Look at these markings." He pointed to small circles dotting the picture from its top to its bottom. Each bore the same colors and markings. A larger circle with the same design was fixed over the area of land which made up Telluria.
"Flags," Quinn observed suddenly, and the whole picture seemed to fall into place like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
"Quite so, my boy. Quite so." Arturo agreed, nodding slowly.
"You know, Professor, this explains the slide!" Quinn exclaimed excitedly.
The slide had bothered him since he'd been brought round some hours earlier. Why into water and at such depth? They always slid onto land or at least so far they had. At first he'd assumed the continent of America had shifted slightly to the East, leaving more ocean. Now he knew that the scenario was worse. California as they knew it didn't exist in this world, or at least it had shifted sideways and Westward. The land masses had formed into different continents. In fact, they were lucky that Haven had existed somewhere below their slide-in spot or they'd have drowned.
How close could they come to death each time they slid?
"Hey, can you guys lay all this on me again?" Remmy asked as he looked at the maps.
Quinn smiled and moved to stand next to him. "Sure, Remmy. It's called plate tectonics. Basically the earth's surface, its crust, is made up of huge plates. Over millions of years they float around the globe on molten rock and as the plates slowly move, so do the continents. When plates collide the molten rock wells up and creates more crust and so on. On our world the one single land mass divided into two continents and so on. Here, the "so on" didn't happen. The two main continents have stayed just that. The exception is that our California has split away from the main continent and a sea formed between them. Could be due to the San Andreas fault line, between the Pacific and North American plate. We slid into that sea." Quinn shrugged.
Remmy patted Quinn on the shoulder and smiled.
"Thanks Q-Ball. Hey, Wade! You understand any of this 'plate tectonics' business?" Remmy turned, grinning, to bring Wade into the conversation.
Quinn turned too. She'd been rather too quiet throughout their last conversation and he suddenly had a sinking feeling.
The white bandage lay in a curled up heap on the floor, a red stain of blood streaked across it and the floor towards the closed door. Quinn's heart lurched and a sick, almost heavy feeling hung in his stomach as he looked at it.
Wade was gone.
PART FIVE
Wade saw the woman beckoning to her from the door. She glanced at the others but they seemed to be interested in that damn wall. She rose quietly to her feet and moved slowly to the door and through it.
She followed the woman in front of her. She knew she'd left the others behind. She had a dull feeling of guilt, but something was driving her.
She felt detached from her legs somehow, oblivious to the trickle of blood which oozed from the wound at her ankle. Her legs seemed to carry her, but not through her own will, more of an automatic response to something.
If she'd followed her instincts she would have dropped to the floor, exhausted.
Funny. The pain had almost disappeared from her ankle, even though it did feel strange.
She hadn't wanted to leave the others. She felt somehow that she was deserting them. That she'd never see them again. The feeling haunted her, yet she'd followed the beckoning finger of the woman so readily, as she'd opened the door quietly and guided her out from under their very noses. So engrossed in their maps they hadn't even noticed her leave.
Anger grew inside her like a malignancy. They didn't care about her! She could leave and they didn't notice. Well she'd show them!
The fog began to tighten its grip on her senses, she felt numbed by something. The hurtful feelings of rejection were gone and she felt all memories of Quinn and her friends fade away like ghosts in the night.
She followed the woman into a large room. It was darkened, glowing with a red and throbbing light. A dull sound, a thudding, seemed to tear at her ears. She put her hands up to cover them. The figure which stood at the end of the chamber turned. His eyes narrowed and moved towards her. As he drew closer he held out a hand.
"Welcome Wade. I've waited a long time for this."
Wade stared numbly into the face in front of her and blinked. Her eyes were having difficulty in focusing. The face and its contours took shape in her mind and a sudden memory activated and kicked in.
"He'll be surprised." Were all the words she could stammer as she stared numbly at the man.
"I'm sure he will. But then you won't be there to witness it, will you?"
The reply echoed in her mind as she felt hands grip her strongly from behind, and strap her wrists together.
As she was led from the figure, her thoughts tried to focus but she found herself unable to concentrate and the faces of her friends finally dropped into the deepest recesses of her mind. Irretrievable and lost.
***
"She can't just have disappeared, man!" Rembrandt declared as he followed Quinn's eyes to the blood stains on the floor.
"Do *you* see her?" Quinn retorted unhappily. He felt responsible. They were so busy doing their own thing they'd ignored Wade totally. And that feeling of not caring about what happened to her had seemed so real, so right. Now it was gone and he felt empty and angry with himself. His head ached and he started to feel sick.
"Calm down both of you. This won't do Miss Welles any good at all, now will it?" Arturo reasoned gently. He rubbed his temples to soothe away the headache which had started to pound.
"I've got to go look for her, Professor," Quinn pleaded with him.
"The door is locked, Mr. Mallory," he pointed out quietly.
"Well Wade got out, so there must be a way," Quinn reasoned, feeling around the perimeter of the door.
"I would suggest that she was taken, rather than she forced the door," the Professor replied sighing.
Quinn ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. The Professor was right.
The face which peered slowly and suddenly through the door took them all by surprise and Quinn rushed forward angrily.
"Where is she?" he demanded and grabbed at the man's clothing to pull him closer.
Alarm spread across the features of the intruder and he backed away swiftly.
"She's hurt. Where have you taken her?" Quinn persisted, waving the blood stained bandage in the man's face.
The alarm dissipated and the face relaxed.
"She's being taken care of," the man offered quietly. "Now if you will come with me." He indicated the open door.
"There you are Q-ball. They just took her to treat her. Nothin' to worry about!" Rembrandt clapped Quinn on the back and forced a nervous grin. He was as unconvinced as Quinn as to where Wade was, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let on to the guard.
Quinn turned and looked puzzled, but catching Rembrandt's secretive wink took the hint and acknowledged the reassurance.
The same bland corridors stretched ahead of them again and Arturo sighed.
"I do believe these people need a lesson in aesthetics, my boy," he offered as he gazed unhappily at the unremitting white surfaces. He was getting annoyed with the pounding in his head. Headaches always made him irritable.
Quinn nodded imperceptibly but kept his counsel. He was waiting to see where they ended up before he spoke again. He was worried about Wade and the sight of the blood trail had left a nasty blemish on his mind and in his heart.
"Man. Sure wish I could lose this headache," Rembrandt complained, rubbing his temples and Quinn turned sharply to look at him.
"You too?"
"Whadd'ya mean, you too? You got one as well Q-ball?" Remmy asked, looking sympathetic because his head was pounding and beginning to drive him mad.
"Looks like we are all suffering from some sort malaise," Arturo offered, thoughtfully.
"Not you as well, Professor?" Quinn echoed.
"I'm afraid so, dear boy" the Professor nodded.
"Feels more like a hangover to me," Remmy offered.
"Yes, it does, doesn't it?" Arturo looked interested.
"Did anyone feel strange in that room - like spaced out or anything?" Quinn asked, turning to look at his two friends.
"Come to think of it yes, Mr. Mallory. I can only describe the feeling as being happily drunk," the Professor exclaimed.
"Me too. Even your technobabble made sense to me. I didn't feel all tense like I normally do when you two are talking," Remmy offered.
"Exactly what are you getting at, Mr. Mallory?" Arturo's eyes narrowed as he took in his student's expression.
"The feelings I got in there. The not caring about Wade. What she was doing to herself. I just didn't care. I felt..kind of distant somehow."
Quinn sighed.
"I think we've all been drugged," the Professor said and his tone changed to one of anger. "Drugged into not caring about each other so that when Miss Welles was taken we didn't even notice. How despicable."
"Some sort of narcotic gas?" Quinn asked, not happy with the idea.
"Probably."
"How could we let ourselves be tricked like that?" Quinn shook his head sadly. He felt cheated.
Rembrandt patted his shoulder.
"Don't beat up on yourself, Q-ball. We all should have noticed."
"Should we?" Quinn turned away and swallowed.
Rembrandt and Arturo exchanged unhappy looks.
Quinn's guilt about sliding in the first place and his responsibility for them all was surfacing again.
The man who had taken them from the mural room stopped. The door in front of them slid aside and the three men walked through into another antechamber, decorated once again with murals, though this time different. Not maps but drawings and descriptions.
Arturo moved towards them and started to study them for signs as to the world's history. He understood the geography but the history was new to him and fascinating.
"Man these rooms are all alike," Rembrandt moaned as he took his jacket from his shoulders and thrust it to the floor.
The young man stood before a second door at the far end of the room and beckoned to Quinn with his hand. Rembrandt moved forward with him.
"No. Only Quinn Mallory." The man put his hand up to stop Rembrandt.
"Professor!" Rembrandt called to Arturo for support as he pulled Quinn to one side and out of the way of the door.
"Trying to split us up again young man?" the Professor moved between Quinn and the guard and prodded a finger in the man's chest. He glared angrily at him.
"It was necessary before," came the quiet reply.
"Necessary for what? Kidnapping Wade? What have you done with her?" Quinn thundered, as he pushed past Rembrandt and confronted the man, his face twisting with anger.
"She is being taken care of," he answered calmly.
"So you say. That has many meanings, man," Rembrandt commented, his eyes flashing, ready to take the man on if necessary.
The young man tightened his mouth and remained silent.
Quinn turned to his friends. "Look guys. I'll be okay. It might be my only way to find out where they've got Wade. Stay cool!"
Quinn moved through the door and glanced back at his two friends. Arturo pulled a sympathetic face and turned to guide Rembrandt towards the wall.
"This is quite fascinating Mr. Brown.." Quinn heard the words fade as the door closed behind him. He turned to face the new chamber. The chamber where, some ten minutes earlier, Wade had been dragged from.
The figure at the end of the room turned slowly and surely. In the dim reddish light at the end, Quinn couldn't see the face but the figure had a reassuring familiarity to it, and he moved forward to get a better look.
"Quinn. I've dreamed of this day for so many years. I can't believe it's now come true. Welcome back."
Quinn stared and gulped. It always took him by surprise and stunned his senses though it hadn't happened as frequently as he would have liked.
He took the hand offered to him and squeezed hard, then threw his arms around his father's neck and hugged him!
PART SIX
Wade looked up at the low hung, dark roof of the cavern which she now found herself imprisoned in. Such contrast to the clinical whiteness of the corridors and rooms she'd seen on her way down here. It was damp and cold. The steady drip of water made her wonder just where she was being held. Could it be that any moment the ocean would flood through?
She reached up and let her hand run down the rough surface of the stone wall. The coolness felt surprisingly good. She turned her cheek slowly and let the cold dampness quieten the heat which burned her face.
Her delirium was beginning to frighten her. Images rising up, then vanishing. Dark shadows which seemed to be from the deepest recesses of her dark side. They taunted her until she could bear it no longer. She rubbed her eyes and wriggled uncomfortably. Her leg was starting to ache unbearably again and she desperately wanted to claw at it. To her dismay the pain had progressed higher than her ankle and even above her knee and into her thigh.
She wasn't feeling too good overall either. As well as the sheer heat which seemed to radiate from her entire body, she was feverish. Shivering turned to unbearable sweats. Her head thundered.
"It won't be long now."
The voice was female and came from the dark corner on the far side of the cavern.
"Don't fight it. You may as well give in now. I did - it'll all be over for me soon."
Wade felt fear as a finger crawling slowly up her spine.
"Don't fight what? Who are you?" she called out to the dark shadows. Her voice sounded weak. Her throat ached unbearably.
Her head was thumping more now, the sweat starting to ooze from her pores as the pain thundered in her leg.
A shuffling sound followed by the glimmer of a shape emerged from the corner.
Wade could see that it was a girl. Not much older than herself, but wretched and sick looking, her eyes hollow and dark, her hair dangling unkempt at the side of her pale face. Wade wondered if she looked as bad herself. She guessed she did.
"They call us 'chosen for the Council'. Nice sentiment huh? That's so no one knows you've gone. If you're 'Council material' your friends assume you've been sent to some hallowed place to learn. It's all a lie. Haven's all a lie. Told you it was the sea plant which hurt your leg did they?" The girl smirked, then groaned and shut her eyes momentarily, grabbing at both her legs.
Wade watched in dismay as the girl pulled her skirt from around her ankles and displayed the red streaks extending upwards. Angrier than her own, but so similar it made Wade want to scream and run for help. Help from who? She didn't know anyone here. Or did she? A memory of people she loved was surfacing. Shifting shapes surrounded by a fog of forgetfulness. Twisting until they were tantalisingly close, then fading momentarily. Wade wanted to scream. Frustration sharpening her senses. Then suddenly the wraiths of her memory cut through the fog and came sharply into focus.
"Quinn!" She heard her own voice as it echoed across the hollow interior of the cavern. The name shot through her like an arrow. The pain of the memory sharpening her consciousness. A warm feeling followed. She remembered him. He would help her. Where was he?
The panic welled up and she started to try to get to her feet.
The girl grinned, then laughed cruelly.
"Remembering your friends are you? The gas wears off then you remember everything. But then it's too late. Too late for your friends to help you. They probably told them you're dead and gone by now or 'being looked after'. No one will help you. No one helped me."
Wade slumped back to the floor heavily. She had no strength left to fight.
"What's wrong with us? These streaks - why?" Wade half stammered the questions. She wanted answers.
"A bacteria the dear scientists of Haven have made up, no doubt. I dunno. It's introduced into your bloodstream and after that...well you've seen the results. There was another woman in here this morning. She died just before they brought you in. Nice way of getting rid of any little unwanted problems, eh?" The girl coughed then pulled herself backwards against the wall.
"What do you mean...they introduce it into your bloodstream? On purpose? They do this on purpose?" Wade could feel her voice rising, it didn't sound like her but she knew that it was.
Silence greeted her questions.
Wade guessed the conversation was now at an end. Her mind whirred. The fog of forgetfulness had cleared now. She guessed whatever they'd given her, had made her temporarily forget her friends to suit their purposes at the time.
She remembered Quinn's father with a start. Quinn was in danger. His father had orchestrated this, of that she was sure.
She couldn't warn him, but she had to. She felt inadequate and frightened.
As she sat back to think, all hope of warning anyone faded. Her head thundered so much that she started to feel sick. The room swum before her eyes and she sank slowly to the floor to feel its cold surface against her cheeks. The heat in her body now reaching a pitch, she could no longer cope with the pain and temperature and her senses reeled. The darkness which washed over her was welcome.
***
"It's beautiful, Dad," Quinn murmured as he gazed through another giant porthole, and looked onto the glimmering lights of the underwater city laid out before him. The sight was still magical.
"You did all this?" It was difficult to remember that this wasn't his father. But he hadn't felt this good about being with him before and it felt right. He wasn't about to burst the bubble right now.
Anyway, it appeared that his father didn't suspect him to be anything but the real article. Maybe it could all work to his advantage, this deception. He hoped his father knew nothing about sliding. He was, to all intents and purposes, just his son returning home. So be it. Quinn wasn't about to spoil the illusion.
His father put an arm on his shoulder and smiled.
"Well, son. It'd be a bit unkind if I took all the credit wouldn't it? It was my idea, yes, and your mother's of course. But it's the technicians and the engineers who made it all a reality."
They sauntered to a side room where a large table was laid out with exotic food and drink. Quinn remembered that his stomach hadn't seen food for some time. Then he remembered his friends, and his heart leapt as he thought about Wade.
"I'd like the others to join us, Dad."
"Whatever you say, son." With a clap of hands the doors swished open and a bewildered looking Arturo and Rembrandt were ushered in.
"Gentlemen, I'm sorry I must have appeared inhospitable."
Arturo took the offered hand and shook it, eyeing Quinn warily as he did so.
"Mr. Mallory, of course," the Professor mumbled and caught his student's eye.
Quinn raised an eyebrow and almost imperceptibly shook his head.
They sat down and proceeded to eat heartily.
"Man, it's good to take the weight off the old legs," Rembrandt declared and reached to pile his plate high with food. "You sure know how to feed a man, Mr. Mallory."
"Well thank you. Thank you." Quinn's father caught Quinn's eye and smiled. Quinn returned it briefly then cleared his throat.
"Dad, where's Wade?"
Quinn watched his father's face closely, exploring every facet to sense a reaction.
The palor and tightness which accompanied the answer was all the proof he needed.
Wade was in danger, of that he was sure. His father's involvement was appearing to be more and more likely.
"She's in our hospital, son. We're just treating that leg of hers. It's worse than we thought." Quinn's father paused, and clearing his throat continued. "I'm really sorry to break this to you son, but you should prepare yourself that she might die."
Quinn heard the words but couldn't digest them. His eyes narrowed as he heard Rembrandt choke on a piece of food.
"Die? Dad, she was fine about an hour ago. I want to see her, now!"
"Of course you can see her, but she's very sick, very. I don't think right now would be...."
"*Now* Dad." Quinn's voice rose angrily and his eyes glinted at his 'father'.
His father looked at him silently for a second and then clapped his hands once more. He whispered softly into the ear of the guard who appeared at his side. The guard nodded and departed as swiftly as he had appeared.
Quinn's father rose to his feet and moved to the porthole. He stood for several minutes staring out and then turned.
"When your mother and I first came down to create and build Haven you were only about fifteen. Oh, you probably can't recall the arguments but your mother tried so hard to persuade you to come with us, to leave Telluria, leave the overcrowding and come to live in peace, among the finest brains in the world. You wouldn't come, Quinn. Would you? You had to stay with that...girl. She was a parasite, a gold digger. You wanted to be with her more than join us in our dream. It killed your mother, Quinn. Killed her. Within two years of being here she died, broken hearted. I never knew if you found out about her death. You never wrote to us, let us know where you were. But you've come back and now you can share in the dream - all of you can share in it." He spread his hands and encompassed the three men in the sweep.
"Life in Haven is like paradise. You can't imagine what it's like. Keen intelligent minds all working as one. Join us, Quinn. You must have come to join us. I don't know how you did it but you must have found a way through the Tellurian defenses to get here."
Quinn caught a glint of something he couldn't define but didn't like shining deep in his father's eyes.
His father continued. His voice was hard, accusing. "I'm not sure why you bought *her* here. But whatever your reason it was cruel, Quinn. Cruel. She was the reason your mother died. I never forgave her. I forgave you. You were enticed, charmed by a siren. It wasn't your fault son. Never blame yourself for your mother's death. No. Wade Welles was to blame."
Quinn's father sighed then put his arms heavily to his side.
"What we've created here in Haven is unique son. The people we're creating to make Haven special. They're the...."
"Wait. You're creating *people*!!" Arturo thundered, interrupting, and in two short strides stood in front of the man.
"Of course. My scientists are at the forefront of genetic engineering. We've created a dozen or so underwater dwellers now and there are more to come. They'll be the slaves who work for us down here and build up this magnificent world." Mallory looked triumphantly from one man to the other.
"Good God, Quinn," was all that Arturo could muster as he turned away.
"Oh geez man," Rembrandt uttered in disgust, as he too turned away.
"What? What is wrong with creating life which can survive in the depths, and cater to our needs? The cities in Telluria were too overcrowded. We had to create Haven as an alternative. And there are others too. Other underwater cities, just like us. When we've perfected the genetics completely we'll provide a whole new race to live alongside us and work for us here. Haven will be perfect - Haven will be paradise. Don't you see that son?" Mallory turned to look at his son, his eyes pleading for approval.
Quinn swallowed and turning away, uttered "And Wade? Have you killed her to perfect your plans too?"
"It was the only way, Quinn. The only way. I've taken care of it now. She won't trouble you again. Believe me it was for the best, son. You'll see. You'll all see in the end."
Before Quinn could answer him, the doors to the room suddenly opened and a figure walked calmly through carrying what appeared to be a bundle of rags.
Quinn's father indicated a space on the floor and the bundle was deposited unceremoniously on its surface.
Rembrandt's heart was racing, his stomach lurching to his mouth in a single stroke as he watched two more figures enter quietly behind. They held transparent cases containing creatures of some sort - slug looking, repellent.
Rembrandt swallowed, sweat breaking out across him. He remembered now. The swimmers who had rescued them. The final piece of the jigsaw - the horrible truth about what he had glimpsed before he'd fallen unconscious. He'd seen the boxes held in the swimmers' hands and he'd watched, in mesmerized fascination and horror as they'd fixed two of the creatures to Wade's ankle before carrying her off.
Rembrandt turned to the wall and felt sick.
As Quinn watched his father indicate the pile of rags with his hand, and motioned for him to investigate, a nasty feeling crept across his senses.
As he pulled back the cover, he saw the pale face of Wade. Her eyes were half open, half glazed. She managed to move her head and look up at him, terrified, the sweat pouring off her forehead.
He watched as she swallowed and ran her tongue across her lips, moistening them a little. The whisper was faint, almost inaudible but he caught the words. His heart and soul leapt together as one.
"Quinn, help me!"
PART SEVEN
"I can't believe you did this, on purpose?" Quinn stared at his father, anguish haunting his eyes as he gently lifted the sick and semi- conscious Wade to the chair and propped her there.
"It's necessary son. You'll understand why things are done like this down here. You'll understand in time." Quinn's father seemed oblivious to Wade's coughing and clapped his hands.
The guards moved forwards and grabbed at Arturo and Rembrandt. The two men twisted away and backed against the wall. With a flourish of the doors, more men entered and the Professor and Rembrandt found themselves overpowered within seconds.
"Don't you bring those things near me!" Rembrandt thundered, trying to back away from the slug boxes.
"They are necessary I'm afraid. My philosophy is that the sea must dish out its own punishment to offenders down here. We've just made the creatures more efficient at their job."
"You mean you infected them," Wade choked as she spluttered the words out. Her throat ached and her head was causing her to see double now, but she felt so much hate for the man in front of her she didn't care.
"You used these on Wade?" Quinn's heart sank as his father's madness became more apparent by the minute.
"Yes, they've been used on all female intruders or female workers who might have been her. I knew you'd come back Quinn and I guessed you'd bring her. I take no chances on her surviving - so I had all unknown females killed, although of course I won't have to bother any more." His father smiled benignly at Wade.
"It will all be over soon my dear, you won't suffer for much longer." He soothed at her now white face.
Something inside Quinn snapped and he lurched forward and punched his father full in the face. The man fell backwards against the table.
A trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth as he contemplated his son. He touched the blood and glanced at his stained fingers.
"You shouldn't have done that, Quinn," he murmured. "I was prepared to forgive you, you shouldn't have done it."
Quinn swallowed. His father was either a madman or a psychopathic murderer or both. The latter seemed the most likely. He could feel the bulk of the timer against his thigh and he realized that according to the last time he'd looked, they would slide within an hour. They had to stay together at all costs. And at all costs they had to get Wade a cure or something before they left.
He turned and grabbed at her as she started to slip from the chair, muttering incoherently, the fever taking its final hold.
"At least let us stay together until she's dead, Dad," he pleaded, lifting her in his arms, hoping to stir his father's conscience somehow. Buy them some time.
His father stared at him for a minute. For a second Quinn thought he saw something verging on compassion.
"Very well. Let no one say that I am not sympathetic to young love," he announced.
"Q-Ball you can't give up on her, not now," Remmy thundered as the men let him go, and he and the Professor advanced towards Quinn.
"Quit moaning Remmy. She needs us now, not after she's dead," Quinn declared loudly hoping to throw his father off the scent of any plan he might be hatching.
"Let's get her somewhere comfortable then, shall we my boy?" Arturo muttered and caught Quinn's eye, as he moved across to the other room where there was a comfortable looking couch of sorts.
"I'll leave you three to say your good-byes. My guards tell me that she has less than about three hours to live. I'll return when they tell me she has gone. Then you gentleman, shall have your turn. I have no desire to witness your misplaced sentimentality, Quinn. Until later, son."
Quinn watched his father leave the room and take the guards with him. He doubted that there was an escape route anyway.
"What's this all about Mr. Mallory?" Arturo whispered as he took out a handkerchief and, dipping it into a large jug of iced water on the side, proceeded to mop Wade's forehead.
"Buying time, Professor. Buying time. Look, we slide in one hour. If my father keeps to his word then we won't see him again and we can just go."
"What about Wade?" Remmy looked down at the girl, concerned. "She ain't in no fit state to slide and what if we can't find a cure on the next world?"
"I know. We've got to think of something before we go. For once we've got the timer and can slide okay, but this time...nothing ever seems straightforward does it?" Quinn sighed heavily.
"The joys of sliding, dear boy," Arturo commented drily.
"She looks real bad, Professor," Quinn commented as he knelt down and stroked at Wade's forehead.
"Yes. I'm not sure what bacteria this is but introduced through those...creatures...quite barbaric," the Professor answered and shook his head sadly.
"I can't believe my father would do all these things. Genetic engineering, slavery, murder. I just can't believe it. I wonder what the Tellurians think of all these goings on in Haven," Quinn muttered as he rose to his feet.
"They're horrified, Quinn."
The voice wasn't one of the mens'. For a start it was female and Quinn glanced at Wade to check if for some reason she had miraculously come round.
"Your friend needs this, I believe."
The young girl was pretty, about twelve years of age and fair haired. She held a small hypodermic in her hand and offered it to Quinn.
His eyes narrowed.
"Don't recognize me, Quinn? I was younger when you last saw me I suppose." She smiled. "I remember *you*."
She reached out and stroked his cheek, gently.
Quinn stepped back.
"Quinn, I'm your sister. Remember? You must remember you have a sister!"
"Uh..of course, I do. You must have been...."
"....six years old when you left. Boys! Honestly, you never remember anything. I know you didn't write to Mom and Dad because of what they were doing here. I understood that, Quinn. But you wrote to me, I'll always be grateful for that."
The girl smiled and nodded at Wade.
"She looks pretty. She the one you stayed with in Telluria?"
"Yeah." Quinn felt lost for words. He hated this deception but it was necessary. It might save their lives, save Wade's.
"What's that?" He nodded at the hypo.
"One of the few doses of antedote for the slug bacteria. I charmed it out of one of Daddy's favorite scientists. He thinks my pet got accidentally attacked by a slug and I needed it." She fluttered her eyelids and Quinn believed that most people would fall for anything his "sister" asked them to do.
"You should give it to her now. It'll take about an hour to work and I'll have to leave soon, but not before I show you the way out." At this she smiled broadly.
Arturo stabbed the hypodermic into Wade's arm and Quinn turned away as he saw her wince through her semi-consciousness.
"Before you go, can I talk to you?" he asked as the girl turned to the door. "Five minutes?" he added and smiled disarmingly.
"Five minutes, okay."
***
"Basically my father's been enticing or kidnapping every brain he can lay his hands on up on the surface world - Telluria. If they won't do what he wants, he makes some excuse up about them being chosen for Council training and for special learning and he bumps them off. Charming huh?"
"Yes, delightful," Arturo commented as he took Wade's pulse.
"How long Q-ball?"
"About ten minutes, but we've got to slide from the sea or we won't be able to get out properly. There's some sort of force field around this dome. My father put it up to protect him from his Quinn and Wade sliding in. My sister told me that I'd been writing to her for several years about sliding. Apparently my double and Wade's double slide in and out of worlds frequently and I...I mean he...promised that one day he'd come for her to take her. I told her that he...I mean I...oh man I'm confused...would do it but not this time because it was too dangerous. I think she was pleased she wasn't going to go yet - something about the Tellurians about to raid Haven and take control. I think she was looking forward to the action!" Quinn grinned.
"A bit like her brother then, eh Q-ball?" Remmy grinned.
"Hey, I didn't even ask her name," Quinn groaned.
"Is she ready to slide, Professor?" Quinn looked anxiously at the groggy form of Wade.
"With help I suspect, yes."
"Here, take this." Quinn passed the timer to the Professor and lifting Wade to his chest, held her tightly. She raised her unfocused eyes to his and forced a smile. He kissed her lightly on the forehead. He owed her the best chance of getting out of there.
"You know what to do, Remmy?"
"Don't sweat it man," Remmy grinned and grabbing hold of a lever concealed to the rear of the room, pulled it upwards as Quinn's sister had told him. The escape hatch swung outwards into a tube like exit and the Professor eased himself through it and out into a small antechamber beyond. Quinn thought it ironic that they were using his father's own escape hatch to flee his clutches.
Rembrandt swung through after him and turned to see Quinn clutching Wade closely behind.
As soon as they were all clear, Rembrandt closed the hatch behind them and passed each of them a small oxygen mask from a side box.
"Ready Q-ball?" he asked before he pulled his mask on.
Quinn nodded and gripping Wade tighter, braced himself.
The outer door opened with a loud clank and the ocean flooded into the small chamber. The water filled the chamber and they floated through the exit into the depths, and far enough away from the dome to activate the vortex.
Arturo aimed the timer into the ocean beyond, and with relief the group watched as the brilliant blue whirlpool greeted them.
As the portal opened its mouth, it's welcome lights cascading into the green depths once more, first the Professor, then Rembrandt and finally Quinn holding Wade forced themselves against the current and into its interior. The vortex blinked away from Haven's existence.
The eyes which watched the departure from the safety of a higher gallery wept a tear and then sighed. One day he'd be back for her...one day. He did promise and Quinn always kept his promises.
THE END