SL4 <pulls cards out of his pockets>: I'm game.

"Thank God. Remmy are you ok?"

"Of course he's not, Mr. Mallory! After what happened to him, I'll be surprised if he can give an intelligible answer."

Remmy slowly opened his eyes to find himself lying in a hospital bed surrounded by his sliding companions. When he tried to speak, he suddenly felt a large, sharp pain on his forehead and when he raised his hand to comfort it, he felt a large cotton bandage surrounded the area.

"What..." Remmy groggily uttered, finding it difficult to speak. "happened..."

Quinn replied, trying to hide a smirk. "Well... you had a run in with a large oak tree when you exited the vortex."

"You were in pretty bad shape." Wade continued, giving Quinn a look. "Good thing we rushed you here in time."

Professor Arturo smiled. "And its glad to see that you have returned to the world of the living."

Remmy tried to sit up, but the growing pain was prevailent.
"How... long..."

"You've been out for two days, Mr. Brown. Don't worry, we have another five until our next window."

Remmy tried to smile, but the pain made him wince.

"I better call the nurse." Wade said as she walked towards the intercom near the door.

Minutes passed, and the three Sliders filled Remmy in on the last two days he missed. From the cash from the last world, they weer able to get a suite at the Motel 12 for at least 5 nights, the Professor has been doing some research about this world, but only found minute differences such as the three Trans-Atlantic Pyramids. Wade and Quinn didn't due much of anything but wait on the word on Remmy's recovery. Then, the nurse arrived with a tray of food and did a check on the injured slider, asked a few questions and gave him some medication for the pain. Before she left, she motified him that a doctor will see him shortly.

"Uh oh..." Wade uttered, looking at the clock. "Looks like our time is up."

"It seems so, Ms. Welles." The professor said, grabbing his coat. "Tomorrow, I shall talk to the medical staff to see when they'll let Mr. Brown go. But for now, how about we make a stop at the Burger Cottage before heading back to the suite."

"Great idea, Professor." agreed Quinn, who leaned to Remmy's ear, and whispered. "I'll see if I can smuggle you something."

Remmy gave him a smile and watched the three of them walk out the door. He did take a look at his plate, which looked like a mix of stewed rice and stuffing, and sighed. More minutes passed and a doctor walked in to check on Remmy. With a short inquiry, an inspection on the wound, and statement regarding his release ("should be for another couple of days"), the doctor left Remmy alone to continue his duties. Suddenly bored, Remmy picked up the nearby remote and surfed the hospital's limited cable selection. He was transfixed to the news report about the recent unveiling of a bronze statue in the likeness of former President Colin Powell at Golden Gate Park when he didn't notice someone walking through the door.

"It's alive!!! It's Alive!!!"

Remmy suddenly looked towards the entrance, a say a middle-aged man chuckling as he walked towards his bed on the opposite side of the room.

"Heheheh... I always wanted to say that..." he laughed.

Remmy only looked at him in confusion.

"Oooh boy. Not a fan of humor. Sorry about that. The name's Richard Bennings." the man said, offering his hand.

Remmy, still slightly confused, took it. "Rembrant... Brown."

"Well, I'm glad to see you awake, Rembrant." he said, taking a seat on his bed. "I mean, you don't know how bored I was these past few days. You were asleep, there was nothing on the TV... well, how can there be anything on if you have a sucky selection. And don't get me started on the food... eugh! What the hell is that?!?!"

Remmy smiled and shrugged. He was starting to like the guy.

"And here's question #2. What bring's you here?"

Remmy hesitated for a moment, and answered, "Football accident."

"Wow... I hate to see the guy that took you down."

"What about you?"

"Intestinal surgery. Petty nasty cancer too, but they said that they had eradicated all of it, but you know how doctors love to say things to make you feel better."

Remmy chuckled. "Mine was little late. It was a couple of pills that made me feel better."

"Hey, did you hear about the new Colin Powell statue?"

"Yeah, I just saw it on the news."

And through the night, the converstation went on. Remmy learned that Richard was an owner of several restaurants in the San Francisco Area, including one on top of one of the Pyramids. The chatter was soon interupted by Remmy's growling stomach. Remmy glanced at the clock on the wall which showed 10:38pm. Remmy walked out of bed, felt a bit faint but managed to walk towards his closet. What he found inside was his belongings, including his pants, slightly bloodied shirt and wallet. He immediately grabbed his wallet and ruffled through the numerous greenbacks and took out several ones.

"Hey, Ritchie. I'm sneaking off to the vending machines. You want something?"

All Remmy heard as a reply was some light snoring.

"Oh well... more for me." He said as he walked towards the door. After peeking out to see that there wasn't anyone patrolling, he slipped out, closed the door slowly behgind him and snuck off.

--

Minutes later...

A figure dressed in a surgeon's uniform walked towards Remmy's door and tried the knob. Once walking inside, he looked around, seeing one vacant bed and a occupied one, slowly walked to the other side of the room. As he neared Richard's bed, he reached iin his shirt and pulled out a silenced pistol. He stared momentarily at the tycoon's slumbering figure and fired two shots, one in the head and one in the chest.

--

Remmy was munching on a kit kat while carrying various candy bars back to his room. When he opened the door, he saw the figure pointing the gun over Richard and dropped his load. Without hesitation, Remmy closed the door and ran, barely missing a bullet. Remmy looked behind him and saw the surgeon enter the hallway and fired a few shots. Remmy went low and turned a corner. He looked up to see a janitor's push cart, which had some cleaning products sitting at the top. Instictively, he grabbed and openned a bottle of bleach cleaner and threw at the murderer's head as he turned the corner. The bottle missed it's target but its contents didn't, splashing on the surgeon's face. Blinded and choking on the fumes, the pursuer removed his mask, giving Remmy a brief look at his face before he can run off. After turning a couple of corners he finally was able to reach the nurse's station.

"Sir, what are you doing out of bed." said the nurse on duty.

"Call... Security!!" He said, slightly out of breath as he felt the pain returning to his temple.

"What's going on?" Another nurse said, as she walked from an office.

"There's a guy... with a gun... chasing me!!!"

"Mr. Brown, we would like to ask you to return to your room..."

"Look, lady. Back there, there's a guy with a gun!! He was in my room earlier and..." Remmy stopped and thougfht about Richard. "Oh no..."

"Mr. Brown..."

"Call the police!"

"Mr. Brown, if you come with me..."

"CALL THE POLICE NOW!!!" Remmy yelled as he ran back towars his room, using an alternate route in case he won't run into the gun wieling surgeon again. Once he reach his door, he swung it open, and saw his friend now sporting two fresh bullet wounds.

"Mr. Brown! Please.... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

HK: Done! Now, I will sit right here to make sure that this seg doesn't disappear. It's TM's turn.

Torch <voice of Angela Landbury>: Look what we have here. Two mysteries in two different realms. Quite intriguing. Thomas Malthus, dear, it's your turn now.

SL4Beaver: (likes parentheses) I wouldn't tell him. He's going to move that clunker so it doesn't block the entrance to the room with the good couch and the High Definition TV with satellite. (Awkward pause.) Hey, has anybody ever noticed that ADMIN and TM are never around at the same time? (Other posters stare at SL4Beaver). Not that that means anything, of course.

***
"Say it, Professor," Wade hissed at Arturo. Her frayed, disgruntled manner said that she was not to be messed with.

"I will not," he responded authoritatively.

"Come on, Professor," Quinn encouraged under his breath. "We'll never get out of here if you can't do this. Just say it!"

Professor Arturo chewed his lip, sucked up his pride and bit the bullet. "Would you like that super stacked?"

The young woman standing across the counter from him looked amused. That annoyed Arturo even more. "Why yes, I believe I would."

In a voice that was dripping with intense irritation, Professor Arturo spoke into the microphone. "Make that two Hefty Heffer Hoagies, super stacked, with French fries." Quinn only let a small smile through as he went back to get the food for the customers. He might as well get some enjoyment out of the situation.

And if there was any humor in what had happened to them at all, it was what Professor Maximilian Arturo had been reduced to. The uniforms he and Wade were wearing were a pain, but the Professor's was truly mortifying. As the customer walked away smugly with her horribly unhealthy food, Quinn took one more good look at Arturo's outfit. He was dressed in a yellow-and-red checkered suit with cartoonishly oversized suspenders, and stood in front of Quinn in full clown make-up with floppy red shoes on his feet and a fuzzy yellow pointed cap on his head. Quinn and Wade barely restrained themselves from laughing.

"I'm delighted that you find this so amusing, Mr. Mallory," Arturo groused. "The last few pieces of my dignity have been slathered in greasepaint and put on display for the general public to gawk at. If I knew I was going to be forced to take a job as a circus performer, I would just as soon have been the man who cleans up after the elephants."

As Quinn and Wade neared hysterics, a little boy walked up to the counter. "Mr. O'Cheese," he said pitifully, trying to get Arturo's attention. "You gave me mayo for my French fries."

Professor Arturo managed to pat the little tike on the head. "Of course I did, my dear lad. French fries were meant to be eaten with mayonnaise. As a matter of fact, the Belgians, who first discovered the benefits of turning potatoes into wedge-shaped, grease-covered..."

The little boy didn't seem to care much. His voice got suddenly louder. "I want ketchup!" The exclamation brought his mother rushing to the counter.

Wade, sensing the possiblity of a scene, quickly stuck her hand in a box under the counter. "Here you go, little guy. Cottage O'Cheese the Clown is just a little cranky tonight." The two walked away without further incident.

"How much more of this torment do the two of you expect me to endure?" the Professor demanded in frustration.

"Not to be repetitive, but we wouldn't even be in this situation if it weren't for you," Wade reminded him.

Arturo raised his voice. "How was I to know that restaurants conduct surprise wallet inspections on this world? I smelled a scam. Any of you would done the same."

Quinn was tired, greasy and hot. The last thing he felt like was being diplomatic, except perhaps for continuing to work at Burger Cottage. "We could have kept some of our money if you hadn't yelled at the guy about 'the insanity of the system' for five minutes. I don't think either of us would have done that."

The Professor was unwilling to take issue with both of them, not was when he was every bit as tired as they were, if not more so. "This is accomplishing nothing." All of them looked down, a little ashamed of their bickering. They wanted desperately to go back to their motel room. "The least they could do is let one of us get off early so we could sneak the food into Mr. Brown that we promised."

"You know they can't," Wade retorted. "We're working with a skeleton crew as is. They sent just about everybody..."

"Wade," Quinn interrupted abruptly, "are you picking up something?" He held his radio headset closer to his ear.

"What is it?" Professor Arturo asked testily, dread filling his voice. "Another order for a Coddage Fish Delight?" Quinn held up his hand as if to silence Arturo. Wade nodded her agreement as the two of them listened intently to what was going on.

Before either one of them could speak, a voice from the back cut them off. "That's just a police radio. The headset picks up their transmissions sometimes. We'll switch to channel two."

"I'm going down there," Wade declared as she started to remove her apron and hand it to Quinn.

He stopped her. "No, I should go," Quinn told her. "You two have been on your feet the longest, you deserve to go home when this place closes and get some rest."

"Do you really expect me to rest at a time like this?" Wade demanded.

The Professor followed the exchange between his two fellow sliders with a mixture of confusion, worry and anger. Finally, anger took over. "What the devil is going on?!" he insisted.

"There's been a shooting at the hospital," Quinn answered. "In Rembrandt's room."

***
HK: So of what I gave you, you decided to explore...the Burger Cottage angle.

TM: Y'uh-huh.

HK is restrained from strangling TM by several other BBoarders. To escape the wrath of an increasingly green, bulky Hurrikain, TM put on his bartender apron and handed him a Betty Ross that he mixed especially for him. TM grins and begins doing the hippy hippy shakes. The gathered crowd promptly boos.

ThomasMalthus

HK: But Blinker’s not even signed up for this story game…..

***************************

Rembrandt watched as his roommate collapsed at his feet. “Help him! He’s been shot,” he yelled as the nurses he had found came around the corner. They brusquely pushed him out of the way and bent over the body.

“Dead,” the on-duty nurse proclaimed. The other nurse nodded her agreement, rose to her feet and made her way towards the telephone. The on-duty nurse grabbed Rembrandt and escorted him back into his room and into his bed.

“You’ll need to stay here until the police arrive. I’m sure they’ll want to ask you some questions.”

“So you’re saying you saw a surgeon shoot Mr. Bennings?” the police asked Rembrandt for about the third time.

“Yes, or at least someone dressed as one,” Rembrandt replied. “I opened the door and the dude was standing over Richard’s bed. I hightailed it out of there, he started shooting at me, so I threw some bleach at him and ran.”

“But you don’t know who it was?” Rembrandt shook his head. He didn’t mention his suspicion. There was no way to tell for sure, since he hadn’t gotten a good look, but he thought he had recognized the figure’s build as one of his friends. Their double, of course… but that might be a little difficult to explain to the police.

“Mr. Brown, I think you’re going to have to come down to the station with us,” said the officer who seemed to be in charge of the investigation. Two other officers came forward and escorted Remmy from his seat at the nurse’s station out to the police car. As they left the hospital, none of them noticed the figure in surgeon’s scrubs slip silently out of a doorway and down the corridor.

****************************

By the time Wade, Quinn, and the Professor got to the hospital, there was police caution tape surrounding Rembrandt’s room. Crime scene investigators were stepping carefully around the evidence that remained from where Richard Bennings had collapsed. The body had already been removed. Wade approached the closest hospital worker.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” she said to the distraught nurse. “Our friend was in that room… could you… do you know…?” Wade found herself unable to complete the question.

The nurse seemed to understand. “You’re friends of Mr. Brown’s, right?” When Wade nodded, she went on, “He’s been taken down to police headquarters. He’s an eyewitness. I’m sure they’ll keep him under police supervision until whoever did this is caught.”

Wade muttered a distracted thank you as she turned and hurried back give her friends the good news that Remmy was only a witness, not a victim. As the three breathed sighs of relief, one of the police officers turned and spotted them and cried out.

“YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

*************************

DMD: You ended it on a “YOU!!!!!!”?

Robin: Sure, why not? It’s a classic ending. :-) It could be worse. I could’ve written “Ouch,” Arturo said, and left it at that. I’ve been known to do that before.

Blinker: Fortunately, that story was recovered, so you can’t use it again. 7:-P

HK: It’s Sarah’s go now. Where on earth did she get to?

~Robin

Torch: Oh.

-----

“YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The police officer’s eyes fixated on Quinn and only Quinn. Panicking, Quinn immediately turned and feld as the police officer chased after him waving a crowd control baton.

Wade and the professor were left standing without time to react. Before they knew it, Quinn had disappeared and there was no sign of stopping.

“What was all that about?” Wade whispered to the professor.

“I have no idea, Miss Welles,” the gentle Englishman replied. “And I doubt Mr. Mallory does either.”

Sighing, Wade looked around. No one had seemed to recognise her or the professor, but that didn’t help Quinn. A card on the floor caught her eye. Picking it up, she flicked it over for a glance. There was no name or anything on it, even though it looked a bit like a business card. All it had on it was a picture of a pyramid and some weird symbol Wade didn’t recognise underneath it.

She glanced around trying to find the person who had dropped it. Eventually she realised there was no point trying unless she was going to ask every person in the corridor and Wade absently shoved the card in her jacket pocket.

The professor was obviously as restless as she was. Wade watched him walk up to a nurse nearby and ask, “Excuse me, ma’am, but the man who was chased away by the officer, do you know who he was?”

The nurse looked at him strangely. “What do you mean, who was he? That was Quinn St. Clair, disgrace to the Trans-Atlantic Pyramids. And so are you, if you don’t know that!” The professor was left gaping at her abruptness.

* * *

Quinn was bent over nearly double, wheezing heavily. The chase had been long and hard, but finally he had got the better of the police officer. He had made his way in a kind of square around the hospital, not wantin to go too far, and was currently hiding in an alley.

Once he had got his breath and run his fingers through the sweaty hair a few times, Quinn ventured out of the alley. Since it was still the middle of the night it was dark enough to hide his obviously known identity, but it would mean staying out of the light.

Nervously he walked along the pavement, seeing recognition everywhere, even when there was none. Every time a person walked past, he assumed that they knew and were about to call the police on him. That was all they needed, what with Remmy’s injury and all.

As he was nearly at the hospital, a man walking towards him shoved past his arm violently. Quinn turned around instinctively to glare at the man but instead caught the man’s eye. He was young and unkempt, but obviously intended to look that way. Quinn couldn’t help thinking he recognised the guy from somewhere.

“Hey Quinn,” he said with no sense of remorse, and then he winked. “Good work.”

The man then turned around and feigned ignorance.

Quinn followed the man’s back with his eyes for about a minute but then he was lost in the shadows. There was something so familiar about him, but still Quinn could not quite remember what. It was beginning to get a little annoying.

At the entrance of the hospital he met Wade and the professor. “How is he, how’s Remmy?” he asked quickly.

Wade shrugged frustratedly. “We don’t know. They wouldn’t let us see him. The officer told us to come back around lunchtime and we might be able to see him then. Then he suggested it would be best if we left the scene of the crime.”

“Insisted, more like,” the professor scoffed. “That imbecile was treating us like common thieves!”

“Quinn, are you okay?” Wade queried, ignoring the professor’s outburst.

Putting his hand to his forehead and rubbing his temples, he said, “I’m not sure. I seem to be a criminal here and I just ran into someone in the street who I recognise but can’t place.”

“Hmmm,” mused the porfessor as he began to pace in a very small circle. “You are indeed some kind of disgrace here, Mr. Mallory, although whether that makes you a criminal or not, I do not know.”

Slowly, Wade pulled out the card from the pocket. “I didn’t think much of it before, but I found this on the floor in the hospital.” The card was passed around the small group and examined. “Does it mean anything to anyone?”

There were negatives all round and the three decided to make their way back to the motel 12 where they could think it over properly.

Just as they were inside the door of their suite, Quinn suddenly exclaimed, “I know who they guy in the street was!”

…

* * *

TM: You’re going to leave it there? That’s almost as bad as Robin’s ending!!!

Sarah: Hey! At least I didn’t end it with “You!”

Robin: You might as well have done!

Sarah: Hah! Doesn’t matter now, it’s done and I didn’t officially use the “You!” ending!

Blinker: Damnit, she got us there!

HK: right, who’s up next?

==================================

It was about 12:30. Wade and the Professor were at the police station, trying to talk to Remmy. They had all agreed that it would be better if Quinn didn’t come with. Instead, he went to the library, hoping the dark glasses he was wearing would rule out identification. He wanted to find out about his double.

The police had allowed Remmy to have a private conversation with his friends.
“Man, guys, I thought the hospital was bad. The food here is even worse than hospital food, and this is the first time I haven’t been watched since I got here.”
Wade glanced at him, horrified. “Why? They don’t suspect you, do they?”
Remmy shook his head. “Nah. I think it’s just routine for them to watch everyone really close. But I’ve got to tell you guys something. It’s good Quinn’s not here. His double’s major trouble. He’s - ”
“We know.” The Professor cut him off. “He’s a “disgrace” to these “Trans-Atlantic Pyramids”, whatever that means.”
Remmy looked at the Professor oddly. “Is he? Then he’s in a lot of trouble, huh? But no, that’s not what I was gonna say. He’s also the one who shot Ritchie. Richard Bennings, my roommate.”
Wade gasped.
The Professor seemed speechless for a second. “What? Have you told the police?”
Remmy shook his head. “Of course not. I don’t want them catching our Quinn, and thinking he’s theirs. I just thought I’d let you guys know.” He glanced at his friends worriedly. “You keep an eye on Q-ball, okay? Don’t let anything happen to him.”

Quinn was frustrated. He couldn’t find anything on his double, or Bennish. He was kind of surprised it had taken him so long to figure out who the guy was that had brushed by him in the alleyway, but, then, he hadn’t seen Bennish in a while. And Bennish had cut his hair kind of short, and it was blonde.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Several voices: Bennish!!
HK: What were you thinking?!?
misswells <shrugging>: Hey, I needed SOMEONE! Bennish was the first person I could think of.
MSR: Not that!
misswells <looking confused>: Then what?
Sarah: He’s BLONDE!!
HK: Can you imagine a blonde Bennish?? It can’t happen!
misswells <looking completely bewildered now>: Guys! Bennish dying his hair is not a major crisis. Besides, it’s written.
Torch (voice of Angela Lansbury): Will you get on with it?!
misswells <now looking hurt and offended>: I’m trying, I’m trying.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

And there was nothing on the internet that he could find, and nothing in the newspapers. He couldn’t figure out what his double might have done to become a “disgrace” to the Trans-Atlantic Pyramids. From what the Professor had told him, it didn’t sound like he was wanted by the law ... But he had no idea what it could be, then.
He ran his hands through his hair, then started a search for “Trans-Atlantic Pyramids”.

They were about to leave the police station, when Wade put her hands in her jacket pockets, and felt that card she had shoved in there earlier. She pulled it out again, and showed it to Remmy. “Hey, have you seen this before? I found it on the floor at the hospital.”
Remmy took the card in his hands. “Yeah, actually. It was on TV. It’s a symbol that represents the “Pharaohs”. They’re a sort of religious group here. Ritchie told me a little about them. Apparently, they’re not hot stuff with the government here. But that’s all I know.”

The police had reassured Wade and the Professor that they’d let Remmy out soon, and that there was nothing to worry about.
“Let’s go back to the hotel room, see if Quinn’s back, and then we should get to work.” Wade touched the Professor’s arm in a comforting sort of way. There’s nothing we can do for Remmy now, and we need to look after Quinn.”
He nodded. “You’re right.”

When the two got back to the hotel room, it was to find Quinn in a highly excited state.
Wade stared at him. “What’s up?”
“Guys, we’re in trouble. Lots of trouble. My double ... ”
“Mr. Brown tells us he was responsible for the murder of his roommate.”
Quinn gazed at the Professor for a moment, apparently struck by this news. “Really? That must have been what Bennish meant ... ”
Wade glanced at Quinn, puzzled. “What?”
“Bennish. When I saw him last night, he said, ‘Well done.’ That’s what he must have been talking about. Remmy’s roommate.” Quinn paced for a second, obviously thinking hard. “Well, look, we have more problems than that. I was at the library, trying to figure out those “Trans-Atlantic Pyramids”, you know? And what it was my double would have done to be a “disgrace” to them.”
“And?”

==========================================

<misswells throws down the pen, and surveys her story with great pleasure.>
misswells: I think it’s good. It follows well the structure of the last few stories, and it ends on a good note.
HK, looking over misswells’ shoulder: A good note?! It ends on a cliffhanger! And a really important cliffhanger, too!
misswells: Like I said, it follows the structure of the last few stories. And it is a good note, too. Nobody’s dying, Remmy’s gonna be let out of the police station soon, they’ve figured out a bunch of stuff, and Quinn’s about to tell them something else they need to know. It’s good.
DieselMickelDolenz: No, it’s not! I have to come after you!
SL4ever: Besides, it’s so short.
misswells <glancing up at SL4ever, who has set down his Liquid Pie to harass her>: Sarah! Put down SL’s Liquid Pie!
<Immediately SL turns in defense of his Liquid Pie. Sarah is on the other side of the Cave, with an armful of My Little Ponies, but he comes after he anyway. A Firefly, an Apple Jack, and a Twilight fall out of her arms as she tries to defend herself.>
misswells chuckles, then looks up into the glaring face of DMD: Fine, fine. I’ll write a little more.

==================================

“My double and Bennish’s double are part of the Pharaohs, a kind of cult here. They can’t arrest us, because it’s a registered religion, and they have no proof that we’ve done anything wrong, but they’re watching us, watching every move we make. As soon as they get anything on us ... ”

==================================

misswells: Allright. NOW I’m done. And you can’t bully me into doing anymore. I can’t do what I wanted to, because the Trans-Atlantic Pyramids are the only things that are different about this world. It was gonna be really cool, too.
<as misswells blathers on about her foiled ideas for the story> Torch: (voice of Angela Lansbury): Get on with it!!
misswells: Oh. Okay.

And the torch moves on.

Dexibal: This will never do...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A soft creak near the door alerted her to his presence once more. “Quinn, is that you?” she called out from the darkness.

“Yes, it’s me,” Quinn answered, sitting in the chair next to her bed. He wasn’t surprised that she looked paler than the last time he saw her. Gently holding her tiny hand between his, he hoped that he had the courage to tell her.

Raising her head slightly off her pillow, a tear rolled down her cheek. “Quinn, I can’t see anymore. It’s all darkness. You know that I don’t like to be in the dark.”

Quinn was thankful for that since she wouldn’t have to see the puffiness around his eyes and the slight redness on his face from the bleach. “I’m so sorry for everything. It’s not your fault.” He sat on the edge of her bed and held her tightly against his chest, making sure the IV lines, wires and tubes didn’t get tangled.

“It’s never going to end, Quinn. Never.” Soft sobs broke through to the surface.

Pushing away the stray strands of her hair from her face, trying to comfort her in her sickness. “It will, soon. Soon. Only one more obstacle stands in our path.”

Her sobs subsided, her strength leaving her once again. “I love you, Quinn. Never leave me, promise.”

“I promise,” he replied even though he knew he would soon break it.

Placing her back gently on the bed, hoping she would hang on longer. He was close to getting the technology to save her life if only he could get back into the basement of Trans-Atlantic Pyramid 1. Only by joining the religious cult was he able to get close. He cursed the day when Richard Bennings stopped him, exposing him to the world as a grave robber. He paid for his meddling. Only his status of Pharaoh saved Quinn and his family from a jail sentence, but not from the Pharaoh’s justice.

Caressing her forehead, he whispered into her ear, “I love you. Live, grow stronger…” The wail of alarms jerked his attention to the monitors. “No…. somebody help her!” Turning back to her and grabbing a hold of her left hand. “You have to fight! Fight it! Somebody! Please I don’t want to be alone!”

A firm hand pulled him away from her. “Mr. St. Claire, we’ve done all we could.”

Quinn turned around, pleading, “Do something!”

The doctor was sympathetic, but firm, handing him a piece of paper. Quinn ripped it from his hand and skimmed it. “We can’t Mr. St. Claire. She signed a DNR order. That’s a Do Not Resuscitate Order. She doesn’t want to be put on these machines to prolong her life. You’re a Pharaoh. You believe that the soul and body reunites in the afterlife… that by burying one’s possessions with… the bodies to be used in the afterlife. She doesn’t want to live like this anymore. Let her go. Your parents would understand.”

Quinn stared coldly at the doctor. “They’re dead because of me.” His stare softened when he glanced at her.

With pleading eyes, Quinn walked behind the doctor to see the monitor. The doctor turned around and saw a barrel of a gun an inch from his forehead. “I won’t miss from this close.” This time Quinn’s hand was steady unlike earlier when he went to see Ritchie.

The DNR order floated to the floor, revealing the signature… Logan St. Claire.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

LS: That's it?

MSR: Yep.

Torch <voice of Adrian Paul> Live, grow stronger, write another day.

sliderules: Dude, I thought it was Angela Landsbury.

HK: She jacked the torched again.

Torch: Not exactly. I was on "Murder She Wrote" so there.

Recall: She didn't write about a >:-#ing cave. Even thought I didn't sign up this time I still get a line. Whoohooo!

Torch: Watch "Tracker" coming to Scifi and "Charmed" for my guest starring role.

Blinker: It better be better than on "Relic Hunter." Whoohoo I didn't sign up either and I get a line!

Brit: That's enough Mr. Paul. <picks up broadsword> What are you looking at? I get a line too.

TM: We want Angela back. Begone Highlander!

Torch: Sheesh. I'm leaving. <silence>

MSR: Good he's gone. At least you didn't hear the spiel about buying the Season 1 DVDs. I think I'm immune to him now.

SL4: Sure. <pulls out DVDs> And what are these?

MSR: Er... Season 1 DVDs. Only way to shut him up. I have a muse to find. Gotta go. <snatches DVDs from SL4's hand and replaces it with a pizza pie.>

SL4: Mmmm... pizza.

Torch: <voice of Angela Landsbury> I'm back. Get on with it!

MSR

MSR

sliderules: Yup!

----------------------------

I should be used to death right now. It shouldn't hurt nearly as bad as it does. My name is Quinn Mallory. I'm a Pharaoh in a religious sect known as the Pharaohs. Once upon a time, I was a big shot around here. I was one of the leaders of the Pharaohs, a man that many lived up to. With the help of Conrad Bennish Jr., an ally since our days at Texas Tech., we reached top status faster than any students of the Pharaoh ever did. It doesn't mean anything now though, thanks to Bennings.

It began years ago, back when I was nothing more than a teenager. Being the science whiz that I was, I was known to tinker even when told repeatedly not to. I should have listened. If I had, dad would still be alive. Like most fourteen year olds, I thought I was smarter than I was. "Why not rewire dad's car and make it faster for him? He'd love that, and he would be able to go Christmas shopping so much easier!"

Yeah, I made it fast. So fast that the engine's fans couldn't take it and it lit on fire. His death sent me into deep depression. No matter how many times they told me it wasn't my fault, I knew it was. Did anyone else mess with his engine but me?? Nope. So, there's no one else to blame but myself. If not for the words of my only sibling, I might have decided to end things for me back then.

"Don't think about it too much. In your lifetimes, you will help many more than you will hurt." Logan's words touched me, and helped me move on as best I could. Mom remarried, marrying Martin St. Clair, and soon life was starting to brighten up a little. I went off to college and met the girl of my dreams, Michelle Brannigan. That blond haired, blue eyed angel of mine was the best thing to ever happen in my life. In our last year at Tech, I proposed, and she accepted. We agreed to move back to San Francisco since her family was there as well, and we started our life together on the same street I had grown up on. When moving back to San Francisco, I also was lucky enough to discover the Pharaohs. Bennish had told me about them in college, and finally the two of us checked it out for ourselves. they were all like us; Brainy outcasts with little to believe in but the ways of old. These were the ways of Ancient Egypt. Our leader, Pharaoh Tutankhamen the XXXVI, showed us the way to survive in the world, and we embraced his tactics and beliefs wholeheartedly. With something to believe in and a home, I was honestly happy for once. Happy times were hard to come by, but this was definitely one of them. Too bad nothing seemed to last for me.

Logan came to me one day with a formula for interdimensional travel which was light-years ahead of anyone else on this earth's calculations. I was busy working on an anti-gravity machine, but those plans got dropped as soon as Logan turned to me for help. She was there for me when I needed her, and I promised I would do the same for her. We were going to build it together, twin brother and sister together as one. A team.

I was loving it, and she was too. In three months we had actually built a working prototype in my basement lab. That's when the arguing began. I thought the prototype was ready for testing, but Logan didn't feel as enthusiastic about it. She felt it needed more fine tuning, more time. Time however was a concept I never really grasped too well. I guess that's why I never built that time machine I theorized about once upon a time.

The day we tested it against her will, we thought no one else was in the house. Michelle was at work, our child was at daycare, and my parents were out of town. It was the perfect time to give our hopes and dreams a shot at being realized. But, with one trial, everything went up in smoke.

The vortex was so unstable it shorted out the safeties we placed to ensure that too much power would not be diverted to our machine. The vortex siphoned off most of the energy on our block, causing a local blackout. Then, instead of opening to another world, it collapsed suddenly and sparks flew from the machine. Power overload. Fire. Explosion. Death. My mother and step-father had come home early from their trip to Las Vegas Segundo, and were in the house at the time. The explosion released a chemical into the air that I was working on for a separate project. I called it Menonide, a potent pesticide which would be extremely useful to the farming community if used correctly once perfected. It was in its beginning, deadly stages. While I was able to grab a mask before exposure reached dangerous levels, my parents had no such protection. Logan was exposed for a short time, but was soon able to find her mask and put it on.

I tried to save them all. Logan and I developed antidote after antidote, yet nothing did the trick. They died three weeks later from kidney failure and lack of air in the lungs.

Not my fault Logan told me. She was mostly to blame for the explosion she told me. It was my entire fault, whether she would admit it or not. After their deaths, I basically went off the deep end, locking myself in my parent's basement refusing to come out. I eventually left it for the weekly Pharaoh meetings. They were helping me out of despair as most saw my acts not as tragic, but as signs of potential sent down from the Ancients. This belief and our intelligence put us where we belonged in the world: the top.

Logan even joined in, and with ease was accepted as one of us. Our numbers grew everyday, and I was finding myself on the top of it all. Michelle was unable to see the light however. She remained with her teachings of old and I respected that. In fact for a while little was different between Michelle and me. Once Logan began to show sings of the sickness my parents went through, I once again went unstable. Logan was my only sister and the last of my immediate family. I was willing to do anything to save her, and when I discovered the only way to save her was through a kidney transplant, I immediately volunteered. I was rejected. I had traces of Menonide in me to small to kill, yet still dangerous enough to keep her from accepting the organ. They told me the line was log for a transplant, so I got desperate. I robbed a fresh grave in madness expecting to discover a kidney good for transplant. It was good, but the wrong blood type, so there was nothing left to do but try again to find an antidote.

The Pharaohs remained behind me through all this until Richard Bennings revealed to them my grave-robbing. Pharaohs held death sacred, and such an act was a disgrace, especially for someone of my stature. When news hit, Michelle could do nothing but leave me, and I don't blame her at all. How could anyone trust a grave-robber anyway? Now, truly Logan was my last bit of family.

Never was I so desperate that stealing was even an option. The Trans-Atlantic Pyramid of the Pharaohs was home to a lab housing many a modern miracle, so I tried to break in. I came close, but was caught at the last second. Luckily I evaded security long enough to escape.

In my depression and my rage, I decided then and there that Bennings would have to pay severely for ruining what was left of my life. By luck Bennings turned out to be the proper blood type. I turned to Bennish for help, and he gave it to me. He found out that Bennings was currently in the hospital, another stroke of luck. Bennish supplied the hospital records, what room he was in, and how I could sneak in and out quickly with little suspicion. I wasn't warned about a room-mate though, and that did me in. I was forced to escape without the body, and with little hope of saving Logan.
----------------------------

With a sigh, Quinn Mallory stood up. He couldn't help but remember all this, with his sister so close to death all because of him. He would not let her die however. He would have to find a way.

"Mr. Mallory, are you here?" the doctor asked as we walked back into Logan's room.

"I'm here doctor. Where would I go?"

"You haven't left the room at all?"

"Not at all doctor. I'm never leaving her side again, as long as she lives. Why are asking this anyway? Shouldn't you be doing something useful like making my sister more comfortable on that hospital bed?"

"We have done all we can Mr. Mallory."

"YOU CAN DO MORE!!! DON'T MAKE ME PULL OUT THE GUN AGAIN!!!!!"

"Yes...yes, of course. Right away Mr. Mallory. But, before I do that, you may be interested to know that the news is reporting that security at San Francisco General spotted you on the fourth floor with a husky bearded man and a petite woman."

"Well, they are obviously wrong. I'm obviously standing right here, at Pharaoh Medical next to my dying sister."

"They swore it was you Mr. Mallory."

"Interesting. I'll look into it. Fluff her pillow doctor, increase her IV intake by .3 milligrams, and I'll be right back."

"Of course."
----------------------------

This could be the break I was looking for. If I'm right, that man at San Fran General is my double from a parallel world. A double with the same blood type. A double unaffected by Menonide. A double that will be able to save my sister, willing or not.
----------------------------

sliderules: And that concludes the sliderules part of this entry!

MSR: QUINN MENT TO TEXAS TECH???

sliderules: Hey, parallel worlds remember?

MSR: Oh yeah. Never mind. Hey, who's got the popcorn?

Torch<In a David Hasselhoff voice>: I do my dear!

HurriKain: Why in God's name are you David Hasselhoff now?

Torch: Angela Lansbury has the flu. Plus, Germans love me!

HurriKain: Okay then.

Torch: NEXT!!!
----------------------------

sliderules
"Yay, finito! yahoo!"

Sl4ever: Pie? >:-D

****

"I'm so confused," Wade shook her head at Rembrandt, and Arturo.

Rembrandt nodded gently, "It's got to get more normal. Right?"

"I don't think so Mr. Brown. I really don't think so," Arturo was preparing himself for a major bought of pontification when their guest spoke up.

"Listen, man. I didn't mean to do anything bad."

Wade lightly popped the man on the back of the head while stealthily checking his ducttape, "We've heard the reasons. We've heard the apology and pathetic protestations of feigned innocence. We are not interested."

"That's right, m'boy," Arturo snarled in mock fatherliness.

"I don't know anything," the ducttaped figure whimpered. "Please, not again."

Smiling maliciously, Rembrandt stood up and inched towards the captive. Slowly he dripped two, three, four drops of dark liquid from a plastic squeeze bottle onto the captive's head. "Tell us where Quinn is," he snarled.

The captive squirmed helplessly in his seat, "Pyramid One."

Wade held up a pitcher of water, "Be more specific," she demanded.

"Basement lab. Logan needs a kidney transplant. My cellular regenerator can grow her a replacement from untainted tissue. Quinn and Logan are too tainted for either one of them to work."

"So, Bennish," Rembrandt drawled, holding up his small, plastic squeeze bottle, "can you get us in?"

"I'll do anything, man. Just get that stuff off of my head," Bennish's voice had moved into full whine mode.

Chuckling Wade rinsed the pink dye from Bennish's formely plantinum coif.

****

Blinker: What was that? 7:-\

Recall317: At least she didn't put that in T4 [shameless plug, go read Thriller]

Tigs: [face of an angel] What? I moved the story along. I managed not to screw anything up...

Sl4ever: Riiiiiight. More pie!

DMD: Hey, the difference is Boba Fett RAWKED!!!

Diagnosis PoohDoo

Quinn Mallory was back at the hospital. He had taken precautions. A 48 inch diameter afro wig, dark sunglasses, and a cowboy outfit had been all he could find at the hospital gift shop but together they concealed his identity pretty well.

He just couldn’t sit at the hotel any longer. He had to return to the scene of the crime and see if he could dig up something. Bennish had been hanging out here and of course the Quinn double had been here. It was a long shot but it beat watching ANY more “Horse is the Sheriff” reruns.

As he neared Remmy and murder victim's former room, Quinn brushed past three doctors talking in the hallways instead of saving lives elsewhere in the hospital.

“I don’t know, Dr. Sloan,” Jesse was saying. “I don’t see how Professor Snape made it up here, shot Bennings, and then got back down to the third floor in time for his nose surgery.”

Amanda agreed. “Especially on two broken legs.”

Dr. Sloan gave them a patronizing look. “Hey, this is a world where the TransAtlantic Pyramids are on the West Coast, anything is possible!”

Quinn gave them an odd look before pressing on to the room. He peeked in. Just as he had suspected! No cameras in the room. Well, that settled that, might as well go back to the hotel room.

As he turned, he found himself face to face with someone his height wearing a neon blue mohawk wig, a milkmaid dress, and cowboy boots with spurs.

“So you’re the buttmunch who bought the rest of the cowboy outfit right before I got there!” The other Quinn spat.

“Being notorious sucks.” Sliding Quinn agreed.

The Other Quinn pointed his milk pail at his double. “Dead or Alive, you’re coming with me.”

Sliding Quinn looked down at the milkpail with one raised eyebrow.

“Oh, sorry.” Blushing, the other Quinn dropped his right hand and raised his left hand, which was holding a gun. “De- oh smeg it! Come on!”

****

“What’s up with the ‘do, man?” The guard asked in what might have been a suspicious tone.

Bennish chuckled. “Yeah. That. Right, the thing is...” He ran a hand through his platinum, pink, and black hair. He looked ready to bolt.

Professor Arturo grabbed his elbow and whispered, “she does nail polish too. Do you have any idea the hell you have to endure to remove THAT stuff?”

Bennish stiffened. “Yeah, um … the dye removal went horridly awry.”

The guard finished signing them in and glanced over his clipboard. “Take it easy, I don’t really care. I was just making conversation. Are you telling me that you’ve made it this far in life without realizing that 97% of what strangers say to you is meaningless small talk as they try to distract themselves from the fact that each human being is a soulless pain collector hurtling towards their inevitable but no less horrifying deaths?”

Arturo, Remmy, Wade, and Bennish stared at him.

“I just shared too much again, didn’t I?” He slapped his forehead hard enough to leave a red mark. “Captain Tripps keeps telling me to not share so much!!”

The four edged around him, as far from his reach as the narrow would allow. “Yes, well, good luck with that, man.” Bennish said helpfully.

“You think I care about your so called luck!?” The guard screamed at their backs. They had finally made their way around him and were headed for the elevator. “This soul being reunited with the body in the next world stuff is a bunch of crap! I only have this job so I can pay my way through my School Councilor’s courses!”

“He’s going to make a great School Councilor.” Arturo remarked.

“He’s more rational than any one I ever had.” Wade replied.

Behind them, the security supervisor stuck his head out of an office door behind the guard station. “Max? Can I talk to you? Again.”

“Aw man. You don’t even EXIST and you’re busting my ASS!”

****

sliderrules: What

tigs: the

misswells: >:-#

Robin14334: was

MSR: THAT

TM: ??????

SL4ever: The first half of the finale! See ya tomorrow!!! <hops from cave, still tied to chair.>

Torch: No, it's just that you're already a day late and the intro and exit segments will make you even later. WILL YOU GET ON WITH IT????

****

“Look, I’d love to give up one of my kidneys to help your sister.” Sliding Quinn stated empathetically.

“Thank you! I can’t tell you how much this means to me!” The other Quinn gushed. He’d managed to get them back to the safety of the TransAtlantic Pyramids so they were no longer wearing their disguises.

The guard at the main entrance was apparently getting chewed out in the security office, so this world’s Quinn signed them in and led his double towards the elevators.

“I said I’d love to. I didn’t say I would.” Sliding Quinn replied flatly.

His double’s expression turned ugly. “Why not?”

“You’re a murderer. You killed a man in cold blood in an attempt to harvest his organs. That’s sick. No person is more important or more worthy of life than another.”

This world’s Quinn pulled out his pistol again. “I brought you here at gunpoint. This isn’t exactly a request.”

Sliding Quinn nodded grimly. “Yes, you can shoot me. You can kill me. But the chances of my kidneys being of any use to your sister are reduced dramatically if you shoot me here in this unsanitized corridor than if my organ is removed in an operating theater with your sister on the next table beside me. And I’ll struggle. If it looks like you’ll shoot me, I’ll charge you and make you shoot me more than once. Hopefully you’ll hit one of my kidneys, or better yet, my liver so my organs will be poisoned. I won’t give you a nice and clean headshot.”

“I don’t believe this! You’d rather die than give up something you can live without? That doesn’t make any sense!”

“You have to be stopped. You don’t get to profit from your murder. You don’t get a pass for slaughtering someone because it was for some noble purpose. If you had just brought me here at gunpoint, without a murder to your record, I’d be more than happy to help you. But not like this. I’m sorry.”

This world’s Quinn stabbed a finger at the closed elevator door. “But she had no part in this! I did this! I did it, not her! Why must she die for my sins?”

Sliding Quinn’s voice was still cold. “Drop the gun, walk back to that guard,” he had returned to his post, they could both see, “and have him call the police. Turn yourself in for your murder, and then I’ll go down and see her doctor and give her a kidney. That’s the only way I’ll cooperate.”

“I’ll turn myself in after. I have to see this through first!”

The otherworldly Quinn snorted. “Yeah, as soon as she’s accepted the kidney you’re >:-#-ing GONE! I know well how the bad versions of myself think. You’ve already got your escape from justice planned. You probably even planned to kill me and use me as your free ticket to a new life under another name.”

“All I care about is my sister, you have to trust me!”

“I’m supposed to trust a coldblooded murderer?”

This world’s Quinn advanced quickly and lifted his pistol, probably to press it against his double’s forehead. If that happened the efficient headshot would be easy. As he did this, the elevator door opened with a ring.

Sliding Quinn charged his double, slapped the gun hand away, kneed his adversary in the groin, and darted into the elevator car. He pressed the first button his finger touched and then pressed hard on the 'close door' button. The doors began to close slower than Katherine Hepburn climbing up marble stairs in an ice storm while wearing roller blades.

This world’s Quinn growled and jerked towards the elevator. However, the sudden movement sent another wave of pain from his groin washing through him. He pitched forward, hit the ground hard, and threw his hand out to stop the doors from closing.

His fingers landed about 20 inches short. The elevator doors crept closing together, at the approximate speed of one inch per decade.

Sliding Quinn mashed his fingers against the ‘close doors’ button. He eyed the guard but the man had put on headphones and had not noticed their struggle. Why did he always run across incompetent security when he needed help and competent security when he needed to get away with something?

His double whimpered as he inchwormed his body forward. The doors were finally gaining momentum, they were up to one inch per year. One final painwracked grunt, one final inchworm slide, and this world’s Quinn’s hand stuck through the gap. The doors collided with it and then obligingly bounced open again. “News flash, brother from another world.” He gasped, rising heavily to his feet and limping into the car while keeping his gun trained on Sliding Quinn. “Elevators make horrid escape vehicles. Their doors are too damned slow.” He pressed the button marked C12.

“I was hoping the sack crunch would slow you down long enough. I didn’t count on the doors being lubricated with superglue.”

His double’s smile was wolfen and not at all a response to the quip. “I’m done playing with you. Cooperate or I’ll shoot you. If I hit or poison the kidneys, then at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing Logan didn’t die alone.”

“Logan? Your sister’s name is Logan?” Sliding Quinn asked curiously.

“Yes. Why, did you have a sister named Logan?”

“Not exactly.”

The elevator stopped at sublevel C12. The doors slide open. Rather quickly, Hostage Quinn noticed with irritation.

Remmy, Arturo, Wade, and Bennish were standing at the door, arguing over what to do next.

“I’m telling you, I was SURE he’d be here with his sister!” Bennish was screaming, his hands raised protectively over his hair for some reason.

This world’s Quinn turned his gun to meet these new threats. Sliding Quinn rushed him and shoved him out of the elevator. Remmy reacted instinctively, kicking out as hard as he could.

This world’s Quinn screamed. He dropped his gun and folded up like a cheap suitcase.

Arturo groaned sympathetically, Wade giggled, and Bennish fought the urge to be sick. Sliding Quinn stepped out of the car and scooped up the gun. “Ouch man, twice in five minutes.”

He knelt beside his double and touched him comfortingly. “But don’t worry, as soon as we get you in custody, I’ll come back down and help your sister. Professor, go tell his sister’s doctor to prep for a transplant. Remmy, find a phone and call security.”

“Just don’t call that pyscho upstairs.” Wade remarked distastefully.

****

“How do you feel?” Wade asked Quinn the next day.

Quinn looked up at her from his hospital bed. “Emptier than I did yesterday. Is she gonna make it?”

“She hasn’t rejected the transplant so far. That’s a very good sign.” Arturo stated.

“Then I feel happy too.”

“I’m just happy your double’s behind bars. They’re probably going to throw the book at him, the religious discrimination being what it is on this world.” Remmy sighed. “But he deserves what he gets.”

“I can understand his desperation. Not all of his choices but his desperation.” Quinn said, echoing his friend with his own sigh. “You’d think these evil doubles would get easier to deal with the more times I run across them. But I find each one is harder to accept than the last.”

Wade gave him a hug. “Tell me about it. If I run across one more snippy evil Wade I’m going to have to scream.”

The hospital door opened. A woman who looked just like Wade appeared in the doorway. She was wearing shiny black leather. Her hair was dyed jet black and her eyes danced madly. She was holding a futuristic looking pistol. “I heard there were Sliders here.” She cackled madly. “I want your timer! I’m finally getting off this world! MWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!”

“YOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!” Wade screamed.

The End

****

HK: Hey! No cliffhanger endings! We did that once and that was enough!!

SL4ever: It's not really a cliffhanger ending. Just one of those joke endings like the cannibal thing. They didn't feel the need to resolve that either.

Torch: TEE HEE Remember when DMD posted a link to this audio file where people were shouting "GET ON WITH IT!!!"

Talkie Toaster: SHUT UP!! No one likes talking inanimate objects!

WOO HOO!!! Loving the good hands rejoining the next game!! Let's get on it with!!!!! :-P~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~