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Fear was not an emotion Diana Davis usually associated with open spaces. Today was an exception.

"Diana! Come on!"

The melodic tones of Rembrandt's scream shook Diana back to reality for a moment...or at least, this particular reality. Unfortunately, Diana almost wished she had stayed buried in her fear. After all, there was some comfort in believing that she was the one shaking instead of the ground. That the flashes of light in the distance were just a symptom of her panic instead of the explosions they really were. That the eerie metallic scream was just her imagination...but she knew that couldn't be her imagination. No one could imagine the humanity she heard in that inhuman sound.

"Diana!! Move your butt!!"

For a moment, Diana heard the drill sergeant in Maggie's voice...and it had the effect Maggie desired. Diana snapped to attention and began to move onward.

"Damn it! Where's Mallory?" Maggie barked as she pushed an apprehensive Diana through the open warehouse doors.

"I don't know..." Rembrandt said with a furrowed brow of concern. "I swear, that boy can get some harebrained ideas."

"He can take care of himself. Right now we gotta move, or this whole little trip will be a waste." Maggie moved forward through the door as the ground quaked again. Rembrandt stayed behind a moment longer. He scanned the horizon, but still no sign of Mallory.

"Where could he be?" Rembrandt wiped the sweat from his face, but couldn't wipe away the worry. Finally, he turned and followed the ladies to the promise of hope.

The three Sliders entered the warehouse unsure quite to what expect. All they knew was what a red boom box told them. That a man named "Plug" would meet them here and return their "A-ticket to the cross-dimensional soul train." Some may find this set of events strange, but Rembrandt had a half-hour long conversation with the talking radio. Turns out it had not only heard of the Cryin' Man, but was also a huge fan.

A voice from the darkness sprang forth.

"You the slidders?"

"No...but we are the sliders." Maggie said with a twinge of annoyance. Diana couldn't help but roll her eyes. The good doctor had always thought that term made them sound like a bad comic book team.

"Yeah...whatever." The owner of the mysterious voice stepped from the shadows. He was a rugged man of his sixties that appeared very much the stereotypical construction worker. Well, except for the missing arm. "I got yer gizmo back from the Big M. Sure wasn't a walk in the park, though. He wanted that power chip real bad."

"We can never thank you enough for your risk." Diana took the timer back in hand.

"Nuttin' to it. I been doin' this stuff for years." Plug couldn't help but give a wry grin and salty laugh as he put a cigar in his mouth. "Just try to do a better job of holdin' on to your stuff than I did," he said while striking a match on the stub that used to be his left arm.

Both of the girls turned to look at Rembrandt.

"Man...how was I supposed to know the hotel safe would grow legs and run away?" Rembrandt barely finished the statement before another explosion rocked the ground. This explosion just blew out part of the warehouse door, however.

Like a screaming banshee, Mallory came dashing through the hole. Through the smoke and flame, it was hard to see; but Mallory appeared to be waving something at the sliders while screaming, "I've got it!" The image was cut short when a seeming wall of steel came crashing down in front of Mallory. A quick glance upward through the shattered roof revealed that the "wall" was in fact but a leg…a leg that belonged to a very angry, 90 foot tall robot with glowing red eyes and a huge cannon on one arm.

"Look... you guys better get outta here. Fire up the doohicky or whatever the hell it is you do. I ain't waitin' around." With that, Plug made haste for the nearest escape.

Ten seconds left. Diana frantically pushed the timer's activation button while she looked down the barrel of the robot's charging fusion cannon. Rembrandt, Maggie and Diana had run out of options and the Big M knew it. Just as the cannon began to fire, a very cocky Mallory darted out from behind the Big M's leg and joined the sliders.

The cannon's flash of light was brilliant. The sound of the very air split being in two was awe-inspiring. The crater that was left behind was massive.

The smoke of the blast was clearing as the robot watched and laughed maniacally. Flashes of light were emanating from the newly formed crater. A sign of his power, he believed. And when the smoke finally parted...the sliders were gone.
What if you found a portal to a parallel universe? What if you could slide into a thousand different worlds, where it's the same year and you're the same person, but everything else is different? And what if you can't find your way home?

Starring:
Cleavant Derricks as Rembrandt Brown
Kari Wuhrer as Maggie Beckett
Robert Floyd as Mallory
Tembi Locke as Diana Davis




by D.B. Hughes
Produced by Q-Ball79 and Chaser9

Escaping down the quantum rabbit hole once more, a somewhat singed group of sliders found themselves in a locale not too different than the one they just left. Well, at least the warehouse-like structure was familiar; but thankfully it was minus signs of World War III.

Mallory was pretty proud of himself as he stood to his feet. He casually patted out the small fire on his shirt sleeve and helped a shell-shocked Diana to her feet, but Mallory still couldn't help but stick out his chest with pride. This did not amuse Maggie.

"Where the hell were you, Mallory?!"

"I was saving your tail!" Mallory said with a big smile while he held up what appeared to be the timer.

"Saving our tail?!" Maggie said in shocked disbelief, "All you did was run around with that goofy grin on your face!"

Mallory shook off the comment with a non-chalant expression. "Riiight. And I suppose you guys would have survived that death ray if I hadn't gotten the timer back? Like Diana always says, 'Equal but opposite reaction.' The front of the vortex pulls in matter while the back of the vortex repels it.' Doesn't work too bad as a shield either."

"Mallory talkin' egghead speak? This must be a parallel world..." Rembrandt dusted himself off and began to investigate their surroundings.

Maggie was not amused by any of this. In fact, if Maggie were a cartoon, smoke would likely be coming out of her ears. Maggie snatched the arm of a still not blinking Diana and held the scientist's clenched hand up to Mallory's face.

"If you got the timer back, then what the hell is this?"

Mallory's happy expression shattered to bewilderment in the course of a second. The two timers looked identical. How could this be?

Rembrandt found his way back to the others at just that time.

"Hey guys, we didn't land in a warehouse. This is some type of soun... What the devil?!"

Rembrandt had just seen what the others were watching in amazement. The timer in Mallory's hand was transforming into a small robot! Using its tiny arms, it pried open Mallory's grip and ran away when it hit the ground. Just as suddenly, a voice boomed from nowhere.

"CUT!!!"

The walls in front of the group began to move apart, and it became quite apparent that the sliders had landed in the middle of a soundstage. Unfortunately for them it was a sound stage currently in use; and the director was not amused by the noise.

"WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!!" The director screamed. The only answer he received was Mallory's goofy grin.

"Bloody hell!" said British actor Charles Keating as he walked in from the side to see why his scene had just been halted. "These delays are intolerable! I've got to be on a plane to New Zealand in 3 hours...I don't have bloody time for this!" Keating stopped for a moment examining the sliders. He took a special interest in Mallory. "Floyd?! Is that you?? Damn it all! Didn't we kill him off four years ago?!" Keating buried his shaking face in his hand as he walked away, "It was never like this at NBC..."

Maggie couldn't help a slight smirk on her face. "At least this world appears to have taste."

"Hey!" Mallory gave Maggie a slight push as an extension of his disdain. Then he turned his attention to the Keating. "And why are you calling me Floyd? My mamma wouldn't have named me after the Sheriff of Mayberry!"

Mallory never got the answer to his question. The director had finally lost his patience.

"Out! OUT!! OUT!!!" The director screamed as four abnormally muscular security men swarmed towards the sliders.

"Damn. This must be Soloflex World." Rembrandt exclaimed with wide eyes while a guard grabbed him.


Landing uncontrollably on the ground was a feeling the sliders had become quite accustomed to over the years. Of course, that feeling was usually associated with traveling by the untamed physics of an interdimensional vortex. Today it arose from the untamed muscle of sunglass-wearing brutes.

"Ow!!" Mallory yelped as his posterior hit the asphalt outside the soundstage. Realizing how unmanly that sounded, he quickly rebutted with an obvious ego trip. "Uhhh...and don't you make me do that again!"

Maggie was a bit quizzical about that comment. "Do what? Fall on your rear?"

"Alright guys, settle down." Rembrandt interrupted the battle of wits for a moment. "What the hell was that little robot that looked like the timer?"

"Intercept, infiltrate and destroy." Maggie answered. "Classic military tactics."

"So that thing is probably wanting to kill us?" Mallory raised an eyebrow at the thought.

"Not only us...but anybody that looks like us." Maggie continued. "If we've got doubles here, it will go after them too. We've got to find that thing. It wouldn't be here if not for us. How much time do we have?"

The three sliders turn to Diana who was still in possession of the timer.

"We landed on another world." Diana whispered with a bit of shell shock still in her eyes.

"What?" Rembrandt was a bit perplexed. Shouldn't Diana have figured this out a looong time ago?

"You just start paying attention?" Mallory chimed in.

"We landed on another world." Diana said a little louder.

The sliders all looked at each other with concern. Rembrandt walked over to Diana and put his hands on her shoulders while examining her for any noticeable signs of injury.

"Oh man...that ray really did something to you, didn't it?"

Diana couldn't help but be a bit frustrated by this point. "No. We landed on Another World." She turned and pointed at the sign on the sound stage door they had just been tossed through. The sign read: Stage 12: Another World. Universal Studios, Hollywood. Diana then turned back to Rembrandt with a playfully annoyed glare, "And we have approximately twelve hours here, too."

Maggie's intensity on the issue had not subsided, though. "Great. Everybody's okay...but we don't have much time to get that thing. I suggest we split up; we can cover more ground that way. Meet back here in an hour and compare notes." And with a confirming glance towards her three little soldiers, Maggie began to walk away towards her portion of the mission.

"Why is she so on fire about this, anyway?" Diana interjected. "I mean, we've definitely screwed up worlds worse than leaving behind one little robot. You've always told me to just learn from it and move on."

"Yeah," Rembrandt said with a slight sigh, "it's the little ones that get Maggie, though. All goes back to one of her first slides. She never got over the fact that a world became infected by a parasite because of her. I guess it's because she had been controlled by the thing; knew first hand the hell other people were going to go through."

Mallory couldn't help but perk up at mention of this. He may have only had an uncontrollable swiss cheese portion of Quinn's mind, but he had enough to remember highlights like this. "Yeah! That's the time that Maggie took off all her..."

Maggie stopped in her tracks upon hearing Mallory's excited remark. The other sliders could only see her back, but it was almost as if her aura gave off the feeling that her eyes were squinting down hard to hold in the rage. Rembrandt was quick to turn and slap his hand over Mallory's mouth. "You don't want to go there, Fog Boy...you don't want to go there."

Mallory flippantly pulled Rembrandt's hand down as Maggie slowly resumed her previous course. "I don't ever get to have any fun with you guys."

Rembrandt couldn't help but smile. "I don't know...you had a lot of fun that time the 'actress' was trying to steal those living gems..."

Mallory immediately motioned his hand up with a noise that obviously implied "Don't..." A smiling Rembrandt followed in suit by giving the same hand gesture and sound back at Mallory. Both men couldn't help but start laughing. Even Diana couldn't help but snicker a bit.


The sliders went their separate ways and began the search even if Mallory agreed with Diana's confusion as to why they should care. Maybe it was his street background, but Mallory never quite understood this whole idea of responsibility for everything you do. Honestly, how much could one little robot do to a person? Somebody could sit on the thing and that's the end of the story.

For Mallory, the hour went by pretty quickly. As Mallory walked around the grounds, his thoughts couldn't help but wander to just how neat this was. He had never been inside a movie back lot before; never had the opportunity to see the movie magic in its native habitat. A shining example was right in front of him. Mallory looked up in wonder at the famous clock tower from the Back to the Future movies. He just couldn't believe he was standing on the identical ground where Christopher Lloyd and Eric Stoltz filmed those famous scenes. Of course, he never cared much for Stoltz in the movie, but Rembrandt had mentioned once that the 'Family Ties' guy had the role on his world. Mallory grinned a little bit at the thought of that difference.

Unfortunately for Mallory, Maggie's 'quest' placed a continuing damper on the site seeing experience. After all, even if he didn't agree with the reasons, Mallory really didn't want to hear Maggie gripe any more than he had to.

"Great. I can't believe I've had to waste my time trying to find the piece of crap. Where in the hellllLLO!" In mid-thought, Mallory was distracted by a different kind of site seeing. Walking in front of him was what Diana had come to call the girl of his dreams for the given week. Mallory's eyes followed intently as he watched a tall, perky brunette bouncing along playfully in front of him. Of course, in reality she was an average height, annoyed crew woman sluggishly carrying a large box with some loose stage lights on top; but Mallory had never been noted for his clarity of perception either.

"Hey hey!" Mallory barked at the crew woman, "It's a crying shame to see a work of art like you forced into this kind of manual labor. Why don't you let 'ole Quinn take care of that heavy load for ya?"

The crew woman could only stare back with an unimpressed glare. She was obviously not very enthused about having to talk to Mallory. "Look, Floyd...I've already told you they'll have my head if one of these props ends up missing. I don't care what you think you could get for it on Obay."

Despite being distracted by the crew woman's lights, Mallory snapped back to attention at her silence and responded as best he could. "Obey? Sure…if that's your thing."

The squint in the crew woman's eyes could not have gotten much tighter as she leered. Luckily for Mallory, her hands were full and her balance less than stable. Otherwise, "Fog Boy" may have become the stage name of the new tenor in a Spinning Topps revival. Realizing she had no immediate opportunity for retribution, the crew woman instead filed the action away in her mind for later revenge and continued briskly on her way into a nearby sound stage.

Of course, Mallory was never dissuaded this easily. Aloof to even an obvious hint of rejection, Mallory began mentally preparing his next suave line as he followed close behind the departing lass. Of course, Mallory was not expecting to be slapped as he crossed the sound stage doors; especially not slapped in the chest with a script by a strange man.

"Ah. You... Have... Arrived!" The man was speaking strangely as if he was trying too hard or had severely over practiced what he had to say. As Mallory grasped the script just slapped to his chest, he noticed that the man was now moving his hands and eyebrows as if to motion an expected response from Mallory. Mallory took a few moments to just stare blankly at the man.

"So what's wrong with you?" Mallory said with an arched eyebrow.

"Ha… HA." the man continued. "You. Know." An awkward pause hung in the air as the man seemed to desperately try to remember the rest of what he wanted to say. Finally the dawn of realization would flash over his face as he began to speak once more. "Me!" His thought now expressed, the man silenced as his faced beamed with personal pride as if he had completed a job well done.

Mallory had gotten his fill by this point. Insane people were always a fun diversion for a few seconds, but Mallory would rather have a diversion of the female type. With the script still in hand, Mallory continued his prior path into the sound stage, but only for a few more steps before his unstable new friend screamed "CUT!"

Turning his head to see what the screaming was about, Mallory found the man now walking towards him with a big smile. Other people began to stream in from various parts of the sound stage while the bright lights inside dimmed. One of the assistants quickly ran a bottle of water to the approaching crazy Mallory had just finished talking to.

"Great work, Mister Peckinpah! Brilliant! Brilliant!" the assistant gushed as Peckinpah took the water from his hand.

"So, Floyd…actually decided to read your lines this time I see." Peckinpah's sarcasm was apparent as he opened the bottle oblivious to the assistant worship.

"Lines?" The realization was finally hitting Mallory. For the first time, he bothered to look down at the script he had just been given. Blazoned across the cover page were the words "Sliders - 'Rewrite'". Mallory had just walked onto the set of that world's Sliders series without even realizing it.

A frustrated Peckinpah quickly snatched the script from Mallory's hands. While mumbling obscenities to himself, Peckinpah thumbed through the pages; and finally slapped the script back on Mallory's chest.

"Yes. Your lines." Peckinpah pointed to the script that had now been opened to a certain page. "You almost had me regretting my decision, Floyd."

As Peckinpah walked away, Mallory looked down to the script page. Printed on the page were uncanny descriptions of the events that occurred just before Peckinpah yelled cut. Of course, that realization was not as unsettling as another.

"Death scene?" Mallory said quietly to himself as a feeling of a dread washed over him. Unfortunately Mallory was too lost in thought to hear the tiny metallic feet scurrying through the shadows behind him. The tiny timer robot would stop for a moment and assess the situation. This area was too crowded; the robot could not safely reach Mallory. For now, the robot would have to bide his time; but he would have his revenge.


"Okay…let me get this straight." Rembrandt massaged his forehead with one hand while the other sliders watched Mallory pace the concrete outside of Stage 12. "You got this story from some stutterin' fool, and now you think it controls your life."

A desperate expression crossed Mallory's face as he stopped in his tracks and turned to the skeptical looks of the sliders. "It does control my life! It controls your life!"

Rembrandt, Maggie and Diana could not help themselves. All three began to howl with laughter.

"You don't believe me. Fine." Mallory began to thumb through the pages of the script searching for a proper example. Finally, Mallory's eyes lit up upon reading a page; and he thrust the script at Rembrandt. "There!."

Rembrandt was still wiping away the tears of laughter from his round cheeks. "Fog boy…you're killin' me, man."

"I'm serious! Read it." The sense of urgency in Mallory's voice was still present.

"Alright, man…alright." Rembrandt moved the script away from him a bit so that his eyes could come into focus. Rembrandt still had to fight the occasional giggle as he read. "Says here, 'Mallory hastily stumbles onto the scene much like Barney Fife.' You're right! That's dead on, man!" Rembrandt and the two ladies began to laugh uncontrollably all over again.

Mallory snatched the script back into hand. "That's not what I meant. Look at this. 'Mallory reads that he will be hit by a nearby ladder, so Mallory stands clear of it. Mallory is hit by the ladder no matter how hard he tries to avoid it, and he believes that is all the proof his friends need.'"

"So?" Maggie quipped as she attempted to regain control of her composure. "We don't have time to watch you act out this joke, Mallory. Did you even look for that little robot?"

"Of course I did." Mallory cleared his throat to help swallow the fib. "But you're not listening to me. Look over here." Mallory walked a few steps toward a large stack of crates on the back lot, but he made sure to keep his distance. A typical aluminum ladder leaned against them. "You see? Lad. Der. It's here! Just like the script says!"

"There are ladders all over this place." Diana finally chimed in while wiping a slight tear of laughter from her eye. "And it's certainly not hitting you."

If actors had been present, there could not have been a better cue. On the other side of the crates, a golf cart was being parked by one of the studio personnel. The driver was unfortunately paying more attention to the new lower amount of his paycheck than the surroundings. With a resounding crash, the cart collided with the crates. The jolt was sufficient to send the ladder off balance…teetering towards a fall.

Mallory's eyes grew wider at the site of the falling ladder. The impending incident would have been enough to give most pause, but this meant so much more to Mallory. The events set in motion were yet another chilling confirmation to his fear. Mallory was not in control of his own fate.

With a swift move, Mallory darted from the ladder's path; or at least so he thought. How could Mallory know that the top crate had been pushed to the brink as well? The falling crate grazed the ladder just enough to change its trajectory; the new landing zone on top of Mallory. Mallory screamed as the ladder hit. Mallory felt no pain as he hit the ground; instead, he felt an overwhelming fear.

As the dust settled, the other concerned sliders ran over to Mallory. Rembrandt was the first to grab the ladder and lift it from Mallory. "Damn, man... you okay?"

Mallory could only respond with a whisper. "Do you believe me now?"

Diana was becoming worried about her friend. She leaned down to console him with her logic. "Mallory…that could have happened to anybody. It's just a coincidence."

Mallory rose to his feet. "Well it didn't happen to anybody. It happened to me…just like it said in this script. And at the end of this script, I'm dead!"

"Come on, Mallory." Maggie was beginning to get fed up. "Are you trying to tell us this is that Seer insanity all over again? That was too crazy to happen the first time…much less twice."

"We could change what the Seer predicted." Mallory looked at the ladder now resting on the ground, and Maggie was left with a slight pause. "Look, you guys do whatever you want with your goodwill mission. This is my life. I'm going to go find the guy that wrote this…maybe there I'll have a chance."

Diana grabbed Mallory by the shoulders attempting to bring sense to his mind. "Mallory…I was part of the dimensional consciousness. There is nothing that controls people in the way you're talking about."

Mallory pushed Diana off as his face broadcasted his seriousness. "Diana…your brain was screwed up. We humored you then because you had just been through a lot; but if you want to talk insanity, then that 'one with the universe' crap is it." Mallory turned and began to walk off.

"Fog Boy!" Rembrandt called out, but Mallory kept walking. "Well…there he goes again."

"He'll come around." Maggie was no longer in a mood to care. "Right now we've got about four and a half hours to take care of the mess we made. Let's get moving." Maggie began to walk on, but Rembrandt and Diana lingered.

Rembrandt was a tired traveler. Tired of this gypsy life…tired of never being sure of anything except himself. Rembrandt could feel for Mallory. It wasn't hard to blur the line of reality in this life; but Rembrandt knew one thing in his heart that always guided him. God could have made man do anything He wished at any time; but God instead chose to give free will to man. Man controls his destiny; even if God influences the decisions of man at times. Rembrandt knew he wrote his own destiny; just like he did that September day when he thought he would dodge traffic by going north…right into the gaping maw of a vortex further down the way. These are the thoughts that crossed Rembrandt's mind as he clasped his hand on Diana's shoulder for comfort. Diana's mind was on different matters as she fought back the tears.

"I'm going after him." Diana said with the courage she could muster.

"Girl... I think is something he's gotta work out for himself." Rembrandt turned to look her in the eye. "I don't know…maybe this life is finally getting to him. It was bad enough when it happened to me, and I didn't have somebody else swimmin' around in my head. He'll show up for the slide; he always does."

"He needs my help, Remmy." Diana's showed her concern and conviction all at once. She had made up her mind; and there was no changing it.

"Alright." Rembrandt sighed. "I'll go with Maggie and try to sort this other stuff out. You guys try to meet us back here okay?"

Diana nodded, and she was off on her way. Rembrandt stood there for a moment watching Diana as she departed. Rembrandt slowly smiled, and then moved to catch up to Maggie.


"Quinn Michael Mallory!" Diana blurted.

Mallory reluctantly stopped without turning around. His eyes rolled at the sound of his middle name. The whole exercise made Mallory think of his mother; and of course, that thought led him to revisit the logic. What was considered so powerful about the middle name? Had too many read a literal meaning into Rumpelstiltskin as children?

Diana finally caught up to Mallory and moved to look him in his non-amused eyes. "I do not appreciate being patronized. I know what I have experienced and what I have seen."

Mallory let out a heavy sigh. There was not much question that he believed this a waste of his time.

"Despite that." Diana grabbed Mallory's chin and forced his eyes to connect with hers once more. "I want to help you find your answers. I did the same thing with that Cajero nonsense because it was obviously important to you."

"That was important as a joke, Diana." Mallory reached for her hand and removed it from his chin. "This is serious."

"Then let's do something about it." Diana began to smile slightly with a possible hint of sarcasm in her expression. "Do you even know where you're going?"

"Sure... sure I do." Mallory was a bit sheepish in his response.

Diana reached for the script still in Mallory's hand, and began to examine it. In short order, a dawn of realization graced Diana's face. "Well, it lists the production office building here on the front page. I believe I passed by this earlier when I was looking around." Diana glanced up with a smile. "Of course, that's in the opposite direction."

"Then lead on, good doctor." Mallory gestured his arms in the classic 'ladies first" fashion, and the two began on their way.

Diana and Mallory had always shared a connection. From the first day he met her, Mallory had a fondness for Diana. Mallory thought about that as they walked. Until the merger with the other Quinn, Mallory had not really realized his love for science. As a child who largely raised himself, Mallory did not have the opportunities to explore higher learning or hone his gifts. Maybe that was Mallory's bond to Diana; she had always been the other half of Mallory that he did not even realize was missing. The science and discipline Mallory would like to possess.

The funny thing about thoughts in the silence is that one person never knows what the other is thinking. Ironically, Diana was thinking in a similar mindset as she walked. She too had always been fond of Mallory even from the first day they met. Growing up in splendor, Diana had every opportunity handed to her; and she made the best use she could of it. However, the discipline was cold and demanding. Diana never felt free. Her life was much like a small box she was trapped in; always living up to the expectations of others. She laughed to herself for a moment thinking that may be the real cause of her claustrophobia. Mallory was her breath of freedom, though. His self-assurance and disregard for authority made her feel free... even if only vicariously. In many ways, Mallory was the other half Diana never had.

Finally their destination loomed before them. Walking up to the door, a small bearded man burst from the door with an arm full of documents. Per the usual expert timing, Mallory was just opening the door at the time. Papers flew the air much like snow flakes as the two men fell to their respective rears from the collision.

"Damn it!" the bearded man exclaimed with frustration. "Aren't you people paid enough to watch where you're go... Rob?" A tone of recognition filled the man's voice.

Mallory sighed as he rose from the ground dusting himself off. "At least that's better than Floyd, I guess. Still isn't right, though."

The bearded man was annoyed. "Oh. Fine. You Robert, me Douglas. It's no wonder you got canned with that attitude problem. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to deliver the final draft on your grand farewell."

Diana's eyebrow rose as she looked to the script for confirmation. "Douglas... Molitor? As in the guy who penned this 'Rewrite' script?"

"Well, I wrote the teleplay at least... the concept was from that other gu.." Doug didn't have a chance to finish his statement as Mallory grabbed into him.

"It's you!" Mallory was shaking Doug. "How are you doing it? How are you doing it! Can you see the future, or can you somehow control what other people do? What is it!!"

Doug pushed Mallory off of him while looking at the boy as if he were insane. "Robert... I don't know what your problem is, but you'd better stay away from me. I didn't make your bed, and it's not my fault you have to lie in it. Now I've got an appointment to get to. You touch me again and I'll have the cops on you faster than you can blink." Before departing, Doug glanced to Diana. "Tembi... you'd better watch yourself around this guy." Then Doug was gone.

Mallory wanted to go after him; he just knew that the writer was the key. If only Mallory could force him to rewrite the script. Diana held Mallory back, though; and Mallory knew he was only going to make it worse if he tried now. Mallory began to try to calm down to prepare for another attempt. Diana broke the silence.

"Well, at least your name was Floyd." Diana smiled and it spread to Mallory. The two set out on Doug's path hoping they could find a better way to resolve this situation further down the path. Diana only hoped Mallory found what he was looking for along the way.


Maggie was not amused. Observing from afar, Maggie was watching her other self on this world. A woman belittling crew personnel; a woman more interested in her make up than anything else; a woman of the type Maggie never cared for. Maggie glanced down to the chair in front of her. Printed on the back was the name Kari Wuhrer; the name of her apparent double on this world.

"Kari?" Maggie snidely commented. "What is the deal with this world? Was there some national mandate for parents to pick the weirdest name they could think of?"

Rembrandt laughed out loud at the thought. "I can't wait to see mine. Hey! What's that over there?" Rembrandt pointed to the shadows behind Kari. There was a small glint from the lights flashing without a pattern. There was something small and metallic moving over there; and it could only be one thing in Rembrandt's mind.

"I see it." Maggie looked to her watch. "That better be it too. We don't have a lot of time left. Damn... I can't get over there, Remmy. We don't have time to explain the whole double thing, and I don't trust these people anyway." Maggie looked to Rembrandt.

"I hear ya, girl." Rembrandt began to walk towards the set. "See if you can find a way around the back. I'll hit it straight on." The two shared a nod, and Rembrandt walked on.

Rembrandt was used to the show business life, but he had not spent a lot of time on the back lots. Even the Topps video from "Cry Like a Man" was filmed at his manager's house. Some glittery strands over the door and some lighting was all they needed. Rembrandt always wanted to break into the film side more, though; and this was like a taste of that. Rembrandt took a few moments to soak it in as he moved across, but maybe that was a second too long.

"Hey Cleavant!" Kari's voice bounced along with the rest of her.

Rembrandt let out a giggle of surprise. "Cleavant!? I gotta say... that name's pretty smooth."

Kari pushed on Rembrandt's shoulder like he was kidding around. "Awww... you know you're the smoothest, C." With a wink, Kari turned around for a moment to get yet another make-up touch.

"Alright now... that's just freaky." Rembrandt was definitely ready to move on, but the crew had different ideas. The make up team began to swarm around him. Powder began to fly; papers handed to him from all directions. Rembrandt almost had to beat them away before they would leave.

"So you ready for the scene?" Kari was now paying attention to him again, or at least mostly paying attention to him. The adjustments on her assets really didn't require that much attention. By now it was almost second nature to her.

"Scene?" Dreams aside, Rembrandt really was not interested in meeting this Cleavant guy either. Meeting his perfect twin out of the clear blue would unnerve anybody. "Girl... I gotta go do something real quick." Rembrandt did a quick glance to Kari's adjustments. "You keep them things in check, and I'll be right back."

"Right back? We're about to start." Kari may have seemed a bit like an airhead, but she was quite serious when it came to business.

"Yeah. It'll only take a second." Rembrandt was gone like a dart before Kari could utter a "but". Seconds after watching Rembrandt disappear into the shadows; Kari would feel a hand on her shoulder.

"So you ready to film this thing or what?" Cleavant said in his deep, kind voice. Kari was left a bit perplexed how the man managed to get behind her so quickly, but it did not take her long to put that out of mind along with most of the other things in the world.

Rembrandt breathed a sigh of relief as he watched his doppelganger from the shadows. Close calls had become commonplace in Rembrandt's life, but he never got used to the feeling. Now in position, Rembrandt began to search the location for their little metallic friend; but there was nothing to be seen.

"Freakin' little thing." Rembrandt was more than tired of playing around with this. At that moment, a sound came from behind him. Rembrandt turned just in time to see the small figure of the robot jumping to latch onto his face! Falling backwards, Rembrandt grabbed at the bot trying to pull it off, but the little gremlin had gotten a good grip with its legs. For long seconds, Rembrandt continued to wrestle with his aggressor; holding back to the tiny arm trying to pierce his eye. Finally Rembrandt was able to get a good grip, but the adrenaline in his system and panic of the situation led him to throw the bot away instead of holding on to it. The trajectory was an unfortunate matter as well. The bot went sailing through the window of a building a few feet away... out of Rembrandt's reach.

Rembrandt scrambled to his feet since he knew the sound of breaking glass would draw attention to his location. Quickly Rembrandt moved out of sight around the corner of the building, but he could see that Maggie had made it to the other side where the door was located. Rembrandt breathed a sigh of relief at the sight, and nodded to Maggie before trying for the back way. Rembrandt's work was cut out for him, though. The inquisitive crowd was already beginning to form around the area.


Maggie opened and moved through the door with haste so that the crowd would not see her. Closing the door behind her, she could see the little demon on the floor still recovering from its trip. Maggie was smiling. Her first love may have been flying, but the other reason she joined the military was because she always loved a good scrap.

"Heh-heh." Maggie was excited at the prospect of putting this thing out of commission. "Come on. Show me what ya got."

The robot began to look around for any type of possible escape route. He may have been programmed to kill these people, but he was not crazy either. Just at that moment, the door swung open. Maggie's instinct led her to turn and look which was all the chance the robot needed.

"Ah! Kari!" It was David Peckinpah coming to investigate. "Now why didn't they tell me you were already in here? Not that I'm complaining, of course." Peckinpah slyly winked to convey his flirt.

Wincing at the sound of 'Kari', Maggie sized the man up quickly. His styled hair and preppie dress pegged him as someone definitely with a large ego, and his all too obvious romantic approach meant he was probably the type who saw women as mere sex objects instead of people. Sounded like just her type, but she did not have time for that now. She turned back quickly to grab the robot, but it was gone. In its place, the Egyptian timer now resided. The damn thing had transformed.

"So that's what made all the noise." Peckinpah moved by the surprised Maggie and picked up the robot timer. "I'll never get over how rough you guys are on these things, but somebody is paying for that window. Did you see who threw it?"

Maggie was silent. Her full concentration was slowly and carefully trying to grab the robot timer from Peckinpah's grasp. Maggie knew it could transform at any moment and run away; a fact that Peckinpah had no clue about. This lack of knowledge led to a fairly embarrassing communication. Peckinpah was holding the timer by his side, so it was difficult to discern whether Maggie was going for the timer or Peckinpah's pants.

"Whoa baby!" Peckinpah put his free hand on Maggie's waist. A fact that did not escape Maggie's attention. "We can't do that here. Honestly, you've been dodging me for so long; I never knew you were really so slutty."

That was it. Maggie's field of vision changed to red as her blood pressure rose. In one swift move, Maggie quite literally grabbed Peckinpah's attention. Applying painful pressure, Peckinpah doubled over as the pitch of his voice increased a few octaves. Peckinpah's grip of the robot timer released, and Maggie began to speak as it hit the floor.

"What did you say?" Maggie said in a calm, slow voice as her eyes blazed.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" Peckinpah repeated over and over again.

"Good." Maggie released her grip but not her anger. She leered at Peckinpah as he tried to catch his breath through the pangs of pain. Maggie looked down at the floor ready to retrieve the robot timer and be done with it, but the robot had transformed and run through the open door. Maggie was back where she started. Maggie started out the door, and met Rembrandt as he came in.

Before Rembrandt could speak, Peckinpah started to mumble between breaths. "You think... you can... pull... stuff like this? I'll have your damn head in... a fish bowl! A FISH BOWL!!"

Maggie turned to speak, but Rembrandt's interest was caught now. "What did you say?" Rembrandt asked the recovering Peckinpah.

"You heard me." Peckinpah said between his gritted teeth. "Just like that little bitch... Wade."

Rembrandt had heard enough. Pushing Maggie out of the way, Rembrandt snatched Peckinpah by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall. "These are people you piece of trash!! You walk around thinking you can do anything, but I'm the guy that's living it." Rembrandt released Peckinpah with one last shove into the wall. As Peckinpah slid to the floor, Rembrandt gained his composure enough to continue. Rembrandt leaned in close to Peckinpah's face, "That girl means the world to me. You understand that? I don't know what your game is in this place, but you damn well don't talk about her like that."

Rembrandt stood and just looked at Peckinpah for a moment. Peckinpah looked back as he rubbed his shoulder.

Rembrandt finally broke the silence. "You know what. You're not even worth it." Rembrandt turned to leave the room. Maggie was still somewhat in shock. She had seen Rembrandt like this before, but he was always under the influence of something else. The rage he displayed in that room was something Maggie never really believed Rembrandt was capable of; and in a paradox of emotion, Maggie felt both proud of Rembrandt and a small bit frightened. It was good to know Rembrandt would stand up for his friends like that, but what would happen if the thin line of restraint disappeared?

Rembrandt walked past Maggie out the door. Maggie slowly walked up behind her friend to console him, but her peripheral vision saw something moving at the corner of the building. It was the metal menace peering around the corner to see if anyone had noticed him. Unfortunately for him, Maggie had. Maggie glanced to Rembrandt as he took in the night air trying to calm himself; a man still lost deeply in the thoughts and feelings that had just been revisited after a long rest. Maggie knew she could handle this on her own; after only a slight pause she left Rembrandt to pursue the robot while they still had time.

Rembrandt really wasn't thinking clearly after what just happened. He knew the problems that could arise if their doubles saw them, but it just was not important to him right now. Taking deep breaths, he could only think about those seemingly final moments staring in Wade's eyes. Those eyes... so full of pain yet still so full of hope. It was a memory he would never forget.

"Clinton?" The silence was broken as Cleavant walked up. Rembrandt was shaken; he did not know what to say.

"I'll be... man, when did you get in?" Cleavant walked up and gave Rembrandt a big hug.

"I... uhh... got here a few hours ago." Rembrandt mustered the only response he could think of: the truth.

"That's great!" Cleavant pulled back with a huge smile on his face. "David had told me we couldn't afford to fly you in for any more double shots. Always thought that was a damn shame. What better way to act out your double than with your brother?"

Rembrandt understood now. Apparently Cleavant did have a twin brother. What were the odds on that? That was a small thought in Rembrandt's mind, though. "Tell me, man." Rembrandt interjected. "Why do you still work in this place? Work for that creep Peckinpah?"

Cleavant's expression changed to slight confusion as to why that topic would come up. "Well, I guess I do it for the fans."

"The fans?" Rembrandt had been in show business a long time. He knew how important the fans were, but even Rembrandt could not imagine working in conditions like this.

"Yeah." Cleavant continued. "This show has been through so much. We've lost a lot of people, the focus isn't there like it used to be; but I can't just bail out on them. These people have stuck by this show all this time... stuck by me. The least I can do is stick by them as long as I can."

A smile crossed Rembrandt's face as he listened to Cleavant speak. The man was passionate, caring... everything that Rembrandt wanted to be. Rembrandt patted his hand on Cleavant's shoulder. "You're a good man... brother." Cleavant's smile dwarfed Rembrandt's as the Cryin man continued. "Look... I gotta run for a bit. I... " Rembrandt motioned like he needed to leave.

Cleavant interrupted before Rembrandt could finish. "Yeah, your shots won't come up for awhile going by the script, and they are waiting on me. I look forward to working with ya again, bro." Cleavant gave Rembrandt another big hug. Rembrandt felt a swelling of joy in his chest; he had really needed this.

Rembrandt lingered for a moment watching Cleavant move back towards the set where Kari waited. The two moved behind some crates and began to watch body doubles of themselves in the distance. Still somewhat agitated, Peckinpah was now at the director's chair and yelled "Action!" Rembrandt could overhear the lines as the crew taped the performance.

"Kari?" Kari snidely commented. "What is the deal with this world? Was there some national mandate for parents to pick the weirdest name they could think of?"

Cleavant laughed out loud at the thought. "I can't wait to see mine. Hey! What's that over there?"

Rembrandt was taken aback. He and Maggie had spoken and acted those same exact lines not long ago. Maybe there was something to Fog Boy's ranting after all...


Molitor had lived better days in his life. He started the day with a flat tire only to get to the studio with a last minute rewrite slammed in his face; and now the gods laughed even more as it started to rain. On instinct, Molitor held the script over his head to deflect the droplets of rain from his head, but quickly jerked the script back down upon the realization that water damage would mean trekking all the way back across the lot to print another copy. Thinking on his feet, Molitor used the only protective measure available; he stuffed the script under his shirt.

"I make it to the Jeopardy Tournament of Champions for this." Molitor mumbled to himself. Molitor was almost to the location where the crew had set up filming for the day; and he had yet to notice that Diana and Mallory were following in the shadows.

As Molitor approached the filming site, he found controlled chaos. One would assume that the filming crew paid close attention to weather reports, but someone obviously dropped the ball this time. Camera men ran to cover the tens of thousands of dollars in equipment as it was rushed inside, the prop men retrieved anything that could be damaged with due haste; and Kari of course attempted to run faster than her make up.

"Ah! Doug!" Peckinpah waved as his drenched assistant held an umbrella over Peckinpah's head. "You get that rewrite done?"

Molitor tried to run underneath Peckinpah's umbrella before talking, but Peckinpah non-chalantly waved the man off. Standing in the rain, Molitor tried to act like it did not bother him as he spoke. "Yeah... I got it done. I was just about accosted by Floyd on my way over here, though."

"Yes... " Peckinpah's eyes narrowed. "There have been many high tempers on the back lot today. Come along... I've called a meeting with the others to talk about it. And good Lord, Doug... show some sense and get out of the rain." With a smile, Peckinpah and his shivering assistant were off to another building on the back lot. Doug could only mumble to himself as he followed behind.

From the shadows, Diana and Mallory watched and listened. "I've got to get into that meeting... this is it." Mallory said with renewed confidence.

Her hair limp and clingy from the rain, Diana turned Mallory's head to face her sympathetic eye. "Mallory... are you sure about this? This script can't be controlling us. It's just not scientifically sound. Where is the empirical proof?"

Mallory said not a word. Instead, he thumbed through a few pages in the script and handed it to Diana after finding a specific page. Through the drops of rain, Diana read the text.

Her hair limp and clingy from the rain, Diana turns Mallory's head to face her sympathetic eye.
      DIANA
Mallory... are you sure about this? This script can't be controlling us. It's just not scientifically sound. Where is the empirical proof?
Diana had no rebut. She knew better than to even bring it up at this point, but it is hard to break years of scientific training. Moving through the continued chaos of the scrambling crew, Mallory and Diana set out of the building. Mallory had taken the lead, but Diana was having problems moving through the crowd. Then, suddenly, Diana felt someone tugging on her sleeve. One of the crew had begun to remove Diana's rain soaked coat.

"Tembi! You are absolutely letting this coat ruin in the rain!" The crew man worked fast to remove the garment. "Do you think Goodwill just gives these things away? My goodness." The crew man tucked the coat under his arm and made a dash for the sound stage most of the crew was evacuating too.

For a few precious seconds, Diana was distracted trying to solve the conflict in the crew man's reasoning. "I thought that's what good will was for." Then in a panic, Diana began to pat her clothes. "My god... the timer." Diana had been carrying the timer in the usual safety of her coat pocket. With a glance, Diana saw Mallory moving through the open door of the office building; but she knew there were now greater concerns for her to attend to. Diana dashed to retrieve the timer before it was too late.

Mallory entered the office building to the sounds of ranting behind closed doors. It was not hard to tell where the production team had traveled. Mallory casually walked to the closed door and paused to take one last look at his destiny as bound by Kinko's. Mallory knew this was it; his final plea. With a deep breath, Mallory opened the door.

The meeting came to a stop upon Mallory's entrance. Mallory knew the man at the head of the table as Peckinpah and recognized Molitor, but the other members were a mystery. Of course, the rather obese man on the computer in the back corner seemed to advertise his identity. The back of the hearty man's t-shirt read "Executive Producer Bill Dial - And You're Not". Ironically, Dial did not even seem to be there for the meeting; instead his interest was solely on the game of solitaire he was playing.

"What can we do for you, Floyd?" Peckinpah said with raised eyebrow.

Mallory cleared his throat and tried to maintain his composure. "I'm here about this script... sir." Respect for authority was an uncommon trait in Mallory, but desperation would bring out very unexpected aspects in most men.

"The script? You don't like it?!" The confusion on Peckinpah's face almost dripped with sarcasm. Molitor laid his head on the table, but it was hard to tell whether he was laughing or crying at the prospect of yet another rewrite.

"No... I don't." Mallory's voice did not waver. "I just... I can't understand how you people can treat people's lives like a toy. How you can... "

Peckinpah interrupted before Mallory could finish. "Son... this attitude is what led to the situation we're in. You want to talk about not caring? You just float by... and then you get surprised when I begin to wonder why you should even be around?"

Mallory had never been a religious man. Aside from a communal experience courtesy of nano machines, Mallory never considered issues of faith in a higher power. Mallory had always made his own way; he was not supported by some other being's whim somewhere. This entire experience had led him to question that; and standing before the man he believed now had control of his fate, Mallory knew that he had to extend faith to get it in return.

"I believe in you. I really do." Mallory was on his knees talking to Peckinpah with conviction. Peckinpah's confusion quickly faded as he regally soaked in the adulation. "Mr. Peckinpah... please keep me around. I promise I'll try to be a better man. I'll do anything... anything."

Peckinpah obviously enjoyed the moment even though Molitor was about to be sick. Much like God coming down to Moses, Peckinpah rose from his chair and approached Mallory on bended knee. With a sly smile, Peckinpah looked Mallory in the eye. "The decision's been made, kid. I'm not going to change it."

Mallory's heart sank. Defeated, Mallory just quietly rose and left the room. If he did have to face death, Mallory would rather face it than keep running. No one can run forever after all.

As Mallory departed, Peckinpah laughed to himself. None of the other production members were saying a word, and then Dial broke the silence. From his computer, Dial made his impassioned plea.

"Have a heart! Have a heart!" Dial exclaimed.

Peckinpah nodded to the comment as he returned to his chair to continue the meeting. The tone was different now. Peckinpah's calm voice conveyed to the other members that maybe a softer side had come to bear.

As the other members listened intently, Dial clicked his mouse on the digitized card deck of his computer. A spade. At this rate, Dial was never going to find the heart to keep his solitaire game going.


With the actors retreated to their trailers, Maggie and Rembrandt felt it safe to check out the sound stage the crew had been scrambling for. The two were beginning to lose hope of solving their little problem before the slide. There were only minutes left before they would need to leave for the rendezvous point.

To their surprise, they found Mallory just sitting in the center of the stage. He was completely slouched over and very depressed; almost like a man just waiting to die.

"Fog Boy?" Rembrandt called out.

"Yeah... it's me." Mallory only looked up for a brief moment and then lapsed back into his sulking.

"What are you doing here? Where's Diana?" Maggie reached down to Mallory's shoulder trying to shake him out of it. Just then Diana came running up, but she was not coming to reunite with her friends. Diana had spotted the coat thieving crew man on the other side of the room. He had just laid her coat to rest on a table. "Diana?!" Rembrandt exclaimed.

"Yeah... yeah... hold on just a second." Diana's voice was chipper and bright much like a child trying to cover up something she knew she would get in trouble for doing. A quick sprint across the stage found Diana's jacket safe and sound. The timer had been pulled from the pocket, but it was lying right next to the jacket. The count down was still working and still read the same time till the slide - five minutes and change. Diana collected her belongings and moved back to her friends. No harm done after all.

Diana walked up just in time to hear what was apparently the crucial part of the conversation. Rembrandt's voice was filled with the absurdity of his comment. "What do you mean you're about to die, Fog Boy?"

"I mean, I'm about to die. Right now. Right here." Mallory handed the script to Rembrandt. The document was now turned to the final page. "See... says it all right there, Cryin man. In a few moments, the little robot is going to kill me right here. Then you guys can take care of it, and you'll leave my dead body behind so you can catch the slide."

Diana jumped in the conversation as she put her coat back on. "Mallory! We would never leave you behind!" Diana seemed almost hurt by the insinuation. "Just forget about this. Let's find a quiet place to slide and just move on. You'll see... it's going to be fine." Diana tried to lift Mallory's spirits with her smile, but it was not working.

"No... it's gonna happen Diana. Look over there." Mallory pointed to a chair just behind them. The timer robot was standing in the seat! Maggie immediately started to move for it, but something began to happen with the robot's arms. Extending from his forearms were two very large blades. The robot still did not make a sound, but his body language almost conveyed a sinister laugh. This was the end game.

"Damn! You mean that thing was trying to slice me earlier?" Rembrandt could not believe how close to death he came before in the darkness.

The sliders began to part, taking up defensive positions as they could; but Mallory did not move.

"Mallory... get your butt up now!" Maggie barked as she began to back off.

Mallory was still deflated. "What's the point... I can't change this."

The robot began to bend its legs in preparation for a pouncing lunge of his blades into Mallory. Just before jumping, the robot was caught by surprise, though. With a quick thrust, the hand of Bill Dial turned the chair so that he could sit. The robot did not have time to think or move. With one swift movement, Dial plopped into the chair; the crunch of the robot's demise muffled in his girth.

The sliders were in shock. For Rembrandt, Maggie and Diana the shock related to the fact that apparently all they needed to do for the robot problem was find a large man to sit down. For Mallory, the shock was focused on the script.

"Woo-HOO!" Mallory jumped from his chair with glee. "I'm still alive!"

The other sliders just looked at each other as they rolled their eyes. This world had been one long headache, and they were beyond ready to leave. The sliders began to walk off the stage to find a more private place to slide, but Mallory was still dancing at his renewed feeling of life. Maggie dropped back for a moment and grabbed his arm to pull him along. Behind them the sound stage started to come to life preparing to film a new scene.

Outside, the sliders found that the rain had finally stopped. Diana gave the timer an examination as Mallory began to realize how he acted about the script.

"I can't believe I took that thing seriously." Mallory sighed in a sarcastic fashion. "Ha... at one point, I even thought that Peckinpah guy might be God!"

Rembrandt and Maggie looked to each other immediately. The message of their glance was clear: an unequivocal "Oh brother."

"Alright... it's time guys." Diana held the timer to the air as she had many times before. The ticking seconds counted down. 3... 2... 1... Diana depressed the button and awaited the welcome whoosh that meant their exit from this world.

Nothing happened.

Diana and the other sliders began to frantically examine the timer for what was wrong. For some reason, the count down had reset to ninety-nine hours and ninety minutes! Their panic did not last for long, though. Screams began to resound from inside the sound stage.

Walking inside, the sliders found the source of the commotion. In the middle of the sound stage with the cameras rolling there was their vortex in all its blue glory. Standing before it were four horrified actors. Tembi had the real timer in her hands. Diana could not believe it. Apparently the crew man had taken the real timer from her coat and left the prop lying on the table.

With a brisk and annoyed pace, the four sliders walked to their awaiting vortex. As Diana walked by Tembi, she snatched the timer from her hands with annoyance. "Give me that." One by one, the sliders jumped through to whatever world awaited them.

Near the floor on the vortex, Molitor had dropped the newly revised script he carried all day long. The site of such wonder took away all meaning from the last minute rewrite he was ordered to do on the last page earlier that day. As the wind from the vortex gushed forward, the pages of the script began to turn until the final page was visible. At the very bottom, the page simply read:

With a brisk and annoyed pace, the four sliders walk to their awaiting vortex. As Diana walks by Tembi, she snatches the timer from her hands.
      DIANA
Give me that.
One by one, the sliders jump through to whatever world awaits them.

THE END
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