Back to Square One
by Jim Reiss

copyright July 1995

The characters and setting of this story are the property of St. Clare Entertainment.

Note: This story takes place immediately after my story "Returning the Visit", and should be considered a continuation of that story.

The wormhole was a bit larger this time. The Quinn on that last Earth had been working on choosing his destination, and this was the big test. If all had gone right, the sliders would now be home. All four were trying hard to hide their anticipation. Each of the four emerged in turn from the wormhole into the basement of the Mallory home.

Quinn began to look under the covers at his equipment, to see if this really was his Earth. He and the Quinn of the last world had spent many hours on the equations...this should be it. Wade climbed the stairs, and was greeted by stale and musty air as she opened the door at the top. She looked around and saw that the furniture was covered, just like the equipment in the basement.

Quinn frowned. He had just found a circuit board half finished. On his world, this board was done months ago. Where had this slide gone wrong? He felt as if a great weight was suddenly back on his shoulders. He let himself fall back in a chair, and slumped.

"I'm sorry. We didn't make it. I finished this a long time ago."

Quinn looked next to the chair and found the most recent tape from his journal. He popped it into the VCR, and this world's Quinn appeared. "July Twelfth. The letter finally came, and I'm in! I don't believe it. A paid internship at Livermore! I was looking forward to taking Professor Arturo's course this fall, but I can't pass up a chance like this. Now I can tell Hurley exactly what he can do with my job. Mom is excited too. She claims she's excited just to get me out of the house, but I think she knows what this means to me. I'd better start packing, they want me there right away."

The Quinn on the tape grabbed the remote control and looked over at the cat. "Ready for a road trip, Schroedinger?" The cat yawned.

The Quinn on the tape pressed a button, and the entry ended. Rembrandt looked puzzled. "What's the big deal about Livermore?"

Arturo explained. "Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory is one of the premier research establishments in the country. They have on occasion called on me to speak there."

"Of course." Rembrandt looked up at the ceiling.

Wade had come back down the stairs. "It looks like your mother decided to take a road trip too. I think it's been a while since anyone was home."

Quinn smiled a little. "I hope she's having a good time. I was thinking she needed to get away for a while. I wonder where she went. I also wonder how this Quinn got that internship. That would have been fun!"

Wade looked at Quinn. "Admit it though. If you had your choice between sliding and working at some lab, you'd pick sliding in a second."

"You're right...I would. The best part of sliding is how we've managed to help so many people along the way. I only wish we were making our slides from home." It was clear that Quinn was feeling a little guilty.

Rembrandt gave him a pat on the back. "Don't feel bad about that, kid. It wasn't your fault. Besides, you'll get us back."

"Thanks, Rembrandt. I guess it was just bothering me a little more than usual, because I got my hopes up that this slide was going to get us home."

Rembrandt nodded. "We all did. So how long are we here?"

Quinn looked at the timer. "It's still got the same time left as the last slide. We're here until around 3 in the afternoon on Friday."

Rembrandt looked at the wound on his arm from the last slide. "I hope the natives are friendly."

Arturo attempted to look very serious. "Don't worry, Rembrandt. I am sure that there is at least a fifty percent chance that no one wants to kill you on this world."

"Oh thanks, I feel much better now." Rembrandt was not amused.

"My pleasure. Now I believe the first order of business is to find ourselves a place to stay, as this is clearly not the home of our own Quinn. Perhaps we should attempt to distance ourselves from this neighborhood, in order to avoid meeting any acquaintances who know of this internship."

Quinn thought about that for a moment. "I can always say I came home to check something, I guess. Let's go find a motel. How are we doing for money?"

Wade smiled. "Before we left this morning, the other Wade gave me money from six different worlds which she and Quinn had been to. We're all set unless things are really unusual here."

"Excellent, Miss Wells. That should make our stay much more pleasant. Shall we go?" Arturo moved toward the stairs, and the others followed. Quinn looked around. This wasn't his house, but it was certainly very similar.

He hoped that it was a good sign.

The four stepped outside and were surprised to discover that there was no street in front of the house. There were a pair of what appeared to be train or trolley tracks, as well as a narrow strip of pavement between the sidewalk and the tracks. The air seemed unusually fresh.

The group suddenly noticed the sound of a ringing bell which rapidly grew louder. Looking in the direction of the sound, some kind of train could be seen heading down the tracks in the direction of the group. As the train passed by, it was clear that it was some form of public transit.

"How interesting," Arturo commented. He glanced toward the streetcorner. "Nothing like the trolleys in our San Francisco. I suggest that we try to board one and see how far it will take us. It looks as if there is some sort of station on the corner for the tracks which cross these."

The other three sliders nodded. The station was a small kiosk which was large enough for five or six people to keep out of the weather, if necessary. On the wall was an extraordinarily complex map of the transit system. It looked like a road map of the Bay Area, but was actually showing the rail lines.

Quinn looked at the name at the bottom of the map. "North California Transit Authority. Well, it's not BART, so that doesn't tell us much. It says that there is a car every five minutes. Strange, I don't see any mention of a fare. I hope we don't need some kind of pass."

"I believe we are about to find out." Arturo had spotted the trolley at a station two blocks down. The very modern-looking vehicle pulled up to the station, and the right front door opened. The sliders stepped on, the doors shut, and they were on their way. The vehicle was not crowded, and so finding a seat was not difficult.

Quinn looked around. "No fare box, no driver, no noise, no overhead wires for power. This is nice."

Wade was looking out the window, and spotted several people on bicycles. "I thought so. Those strips of pavement are bike paths. It looks like this world got serious about clean transportation."

Arturo nodded. "Indeed. They seem to have eliminated the automobile."

Rembrandt looked stunned. "No cars? How can you have a world without cars?"

Arturo did his best not to sound annoyed. "Our own world did very well without them for many years, Mister Brown. However, we do not know if the whole world is like this. It may be that this is some sort of local initiative."

Wade turned away from the window to face the group. "So, where should we go from here?"

"Perhaps it would be best if we take advantage of our mobility and attempt to get outside the city. It is clear that there are counterparts here both for myself and for Mister Mallory, and it would appear that they are not aware of sliding."

Rembrandt offered, "How about Oakland?" Then he shook his head. "No, wait a minute, I had a bad experience in Oakland. I don't need any more bad experiences."

Quinn suggested, "Let's go to San Jose then. It's not too far."

Rembrandt nodded. "Nothing ever happens to me there. That'll do."

"Fine with me too," Wade added.

Arturo got up and took a pamphlet from a holder on the wall. "Fine. Now, according to this map, we should be able to get off three stations down and transfer to a car which should take us to the main line."

The group did as the map indicated, and soon were on a fast train headed south.

Rembrandt still seemed disappointed. "Man, it's so strange that this isn't a freeway."

Quinn agreed. "I never expected to see all of Silicon Valley without cars or highways."

Soon the group had reached their destination, and found a Motel 12 which was near the San Jose city limits. There was enough money to get Wade her own room, and also to get an extra cot in the other room so that all three men could have their own beds. Rembrandt decided he was tired, so kicked off his shoes, jumped on the bed, and grabbed the TV remote control.

"Anything we can get for you, Rembrandt?" The sarcasm in Quinn's voice was obvious.

Rembrandt played along. "Yeah, some Mexican food would be good. Thanks guys. I'll be here taking care of my sore arm."

Deciding this was not worth pursuing, the other three looked at each other, nodded, and headed out in search of Italian food.

The early evening was clear and cool. The group walked down to a trolley station, and a car soon arrived. Wade suggested looking for one of her favorite San Jose restaurants. She had discovered it when she was attending a conference in town. Within ten minutes the three had arrived, and Wade smiled. "Here it is...just where it's supposed to be. It's bigger than on our world, though." She pointed to a part of the building. "That's the parking lot on our world. Ours doesn't have a takeout window, either."

Quinn looked where Wade was pointing. "I thought I noticed something like

that earlier. It looked as if every restaurant had a walk-up window. Maybe people have less time to eat here."

Arturo winced. "The purpose of going to a restaurant should be to savor the dining experience. I shudder to think of someone getting rack of lamb in a take-out sack."

"Don't worry, professor. It looks like Wade's restaurant has plenty of tables. This just means we shouldn't have any trouble taking something back for Rembrandt."

The three reached the door of the restaurant, and entered. By Wade's estimate there were twice as many tables in this restaurant than she remembered from the other version. A waiter seated the group at a table by a fireplace. The lights were dim, and a kerosene lamp on the table provided just enough light to see the menu. Wade was relieved that the prices were the same. Arturo was relieved that the selection included some finer foods. Quinn seemed lost in thought.

After a delicious meal, the group chose what to take back to the motel room for Rembrandt, and headed back. He was still lying comfortably on the bed when they returned.

"What took you guys so long?"

"You did not specify when you wished to dine, Mister Brown. We hope that you find the meal to your liking."

Quinn still looked like he was thinking about something. He turned to Wade. "Say, would you like to go for a walk?"

Wade was very surprised, and didn't say anything for a few moments. It wasn't hard to decide, however. "Sure. It's a great night, the stars are coming out. I know a park by here."

Rembrandt smiled. "You two be back by eleven, you hear?"

Wade smiled and winked. "Yes, dad."

Quinn blushed a little as he and Wade stepped outside. As they walked, Quinn kept catching himself drifting toward Wade. Each time he realized it, he tried to look casual as he moved back to a more reasonable distance. After five or so minutes of idle conversation, Wade was getting a little impatient. "Quinn, is something on your mind?"

Arturo watched Quinn and Wade leave, then sat down in the most comfortable chair which the motel room had to offer. "So, how have you been enjoying yourself, Mister Brown?"

"This is one strange world, professor. I was going through the channels and they mentioned Monday Night Football, but it turned out it was just some soccer game."

"Ah yes. The true game of football. How enlightened of this world. I take it you decided not to watch?"

Rembrandt stared at Arturo. "Do I look like a soccer freak to you?"

"Alas no. So what did you decide to watch, then?"

"Unsolved Mysteries. I don't usually watch this stuff, but the commercial for this one caught my eye when I was changing channels."

"Oh, why is that?" Arturo was not really interested, but decided to be polite.

"Watch, after this next commercial."

The two waited, and the host of the show appeared. In the background, a man and a woman could be seen taking a night walk. "Next, we look at a bizarre incident which took place near Salem, Massachusetts. Steve and Beverly DiDomenico were taking a walk at around ten o'clock on the night of May Fifteenth, 1994. They were surprised to discover a sudden breeze and swirling whirlpool of light which hovered for almost a minute before releasing a dark-colored cat. The cat looked at both of them and purred before being sucked back into the strange phenomenon. Salem and black cats - was it witchcraft, the work of an alien technology, or something else? You decide. Up next on..."

Rembrandt turned down the volume. "Look familiar, professor?"

"That re-creation was not perfect, but it was clearly the work of a slider. That was not Mister Mallory's cat, and it was on the other side of the country. I wonder if this means that sliding has been developed by someone other than various versions of our Quinn, or if it was a Quinn who attended some school in that area."

Rembrandt began changing channels again. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter, because we'll probably never meet whoever did it. I just couldn't believe it when I saw the commercial for that bit."

"Given that the number of parallel worlds is potentially infinite, I guess it is only natural that we will see traces of other sliders from time to time. My only fear is that some other slider will cause trouble in some world which we will later stumble upon."

"Professor, if there's one thing I've learned about sliding, it's that we don't need another slider to get us into trouble." Rembrandt continued to surf through the channels.

"That is certainly true. It is a difficult position we have been placed in. We only truly belong on one world, and that world is lost to us. Wait a moment...go back one channel." Arturo turned to face the TV while Rembrandt did as he was requested.

"What did you want me to stop here for? It's just some old buildings."

"That, Mister Brown, is London. It has been a while since I have seen anything of my home country."

"Oh yeah, we were on tour there once. Those were some times. A different town every other day. I remember everyone drives on the wrong side of the road over there."

The professor put a hand over his eyes, then slid it down his face in frustration. He looked up. "It looks like you would not have to worry about that on this world. Look, they have the same sort of transit system as we have found here."

"You're right. But it looks like the bike paths are wider."

"Yes. I suppose there is more traffic there. That is not much of a surprise." The TV picture changed to show the United Kingdom's parliament. "My word...Margaret Thatcher is still the PM?"

"What's a PM?" It was clear that Rembrant was not versed in the finer points of British politics.

The professor almost brought his hand back to his face, but was able to resist the urge. "The Prime Minister. Surely you learned something of parliamentary politics from that last world, your double was a minister of parliament."

"Man, why would I want to know about that? He was a politician, that's all I needed to know. All I need politicians for is too book me a gig at those thousand dollar a plate lunches. It's a great way to meet the right people, if you know what I mean. So what's so strange about this Thatcher lady being in charge? She looks pretty tough."

"She is 'tough', as you put it. Some time back her popularity plummeted and she was forced to step down. It just struck me as odd to see her in that role after all this time." The program stopped for a commercial break. "You may resume your channel changing, thank you."

"OK. Say, did I ever tell you about that time when we were touring in Canada and..."

Quinn looked around. The park was still many blocks away, and he didn't feel like having a serious conversation while standing on a sidewalk. Just down the street was a trolley station with a bench. "Let's grab a seat," he suggested, as he moved over to the bench and sat down. He let out a soft sigh.

Wade sat down next to Quinn. "OK, Quinn, out with it. What's bothering you?"

Quinn looked at the ground. "Getting home. I know I promised all of you, especially you, that we'd get home. Now I just don't know if it's possible. That other Quinn had months to work on the problem, and we still didn't get back."

"We're back to that again? Quinn, we know you've done your best. That's all you can do. Someday we'll either find home by luck, or we'll find another world to make our home. You need to cut out this self-pity thing."

Quinn smiled a little. "You're not going to let me get down on myself, are you?"

Wade smiled too. "No, I'm not. I...that's what 'buds' are for, right?"

"Right...I don't know what I'd do without you, Wade. Sometimes I think that...well, that I haven't let you know how important you are to me."

Wade's smile grew a bit larger. "Oh, I know how you feel about me Quinn, although sometimes you seem to forget."

"I guess I just don't always express myself very well."

Quinn's comment made Wade realize that this was not going to be the night that Quinn would admit how he really did feel. "I guess not," she answered as her smile faded. "You know, Rembrandt will be disappointed if we head back after such a short talk...you gave the impression that this was a big deal. Let's go find a movie or something."

"OK, sounds good. I'm sure the professor and Rembrandt can entertain each other. Let's get a newspaper and check for what's playing." Quinn and Wade walked to to a convenience store they had passed a few blocks back and picked up a copy of the San Jose Mercury News. The two sat down on the curb in front of the store and held the entertainment section between them. A listing caught Quinn's eye. "Hudson Hawk Three? No way..."

Wade nodded. "Scary. Look, how about that one? Confessions. It sounds interesting from the short description."

"Sure, whatever you'd like to see is fine with me."

The two headed off for the theater. The movie revolved around several main characters who were each secretive about some aspect of their lives. One of the characters was in love with a male friend of hers, but couldn't bring herself to tell him because she was afraid of ruining their friendship. Quinn found himself shifting around a lot in his seat during those scenes. He noticed that Wade was nodding a lot during the same scenes, as well as smiling at him. One of these days he really needed to figure out just what his feelings really were, he thought to himself.

When the movie was over, Wade suggested getting milkshakes. Quinn nodded, and the two got on a trolley headed for Dairy King.

Arturo's eyes were glazed over and he looked comatose. Rembrandt had been talking for over an hour. "...and that's when I decided it was time to ditch the group and make it on my own. I was the real talent, you know."

Arturo shook his head vigorously to try to come back to the world of the living, then yawned. "Fascinating, Mister Brown. Perhaps we might see what else is on the television?"

Rembrandt nodded, and went back to rapidly changing channels. The professor just doesn't seem to understand what's important, he thought to himself. Arturo held back a sigh of relief. Not surprisingly, the two could not agree on watching any program. The two eventually decided to watch the CNN Bay Area Headline News Channel. Apparently CNN had branched out into local news.

"In other news, local hero Ralph Irwin was grand marshal of today's Vespucci Day parade. Last April Mister Irwin was the man responsible for averting a tragedy of tremendous proportions when he spotted a huge bomb in the back of a Ryder truck. The truck apparently had a defective latch, causing the door to fail to close properly. Authorities believe that the driver of the truck had intended to destroy a government building in Oklahoma City. The manufacturer of the truck was recently forced to recall that model due to a sudden surge of complaints regarding defects in that door latch."

The news channel began an Energizer Bunny commercial. Rembrandt frowned. "You'd think this world was different enough that we wouldn't have to watch this stupid bunny!"

Arturo looked at the screen just as the bunny ran over a land mine in the sand, and was blown into tiny pieces. A small mushroom cloud was all that remained. A voiceover said, "The makers of Supervolt batteries thank you for rejecting this nonsense and driving our competition into bankruptcy. We hope you enjoyed seeing what we know you've been waiting for."

"All right!" Rembrant seemed very happy.

The next commercial was much less interesting to both viewers. It was introducing a new line of padded bicycle seats. The news resumed.

Quinn and Wade had finished their Oreo shakes and headed back to the motel. They found the professor asleep, and Rembrandt watching a music talk show. Quinn looked at Wade. "I guess it's time to call it a night."

Wade smiled. "Sweet dreams. I had a good time." She kissed Quinn on the cheek.

"Me too." Quinn shut the door to the motel room, and started getting ready for bed. Rembrandt stayed awake until the show ended, then did the same.

All four sliders slept late the next morning. Rembrandt got up first, and his rendition of "Explosion of Love" in the shower woke up the other two men. Quinn groaned. "I don't believe this..."

The professor turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "Perhaps in the next world we can get separate rooms. On some worlds I am certain that this would be considered cruel and unusual punishment."

Quinn nodded slowly, then went over to wake Wade so that the four could have brunch or lunch together. Wade came to the door. "Oh, hi Quinn, time for breakfast? How are you feeling this morning?"

"Fine, I guess. It's actually brunch, it's almost 11."

"Really? I guess I didn't realize how tired I was. I'll be over to your room in a little while."

Once the four were back together, Wade suggested going to a nearby Lenny's which she had noticed the night before. None of the other three had a strong opinion, so that is what was decided.

During the short walk to the restaurant, a trolley car without windows passed by. It had one large sliding door in the side. The four watched as it turned off of the main tracks about a half block down. It then stopped next to a grocery store of some kind. As the four passed by, they saw that the side door was open and workers were unloading various boxes. Quinn looked at Arturo. "I wondered how they managed to get by without trucks. I guess now we know."

The four continued on. Arturo stopped at a streetcorner to buy the morning newspaper from a vending machine.

The restaurant had what seemed like an unusually large seating capacity, and it did not take any time before the four were seated. During the wait for the food, the restaurant's background music tape suddenly caught Rembrandt's attention. "Next up on Lenny's Music Service, 'Love Explosion' by R&B Brown." The song started, and Rembrandt smiled. "Hey, this isn't so bad a world after all. That's some of my best work. How about that."

Arturo frowned. "Yes, how about that. Now we will have the pleasure of yet again hearing all about your singing career for the remainder of our stay." His tone was dripping with sarcasm. The professor grabbed his newspaper and turned all his attention to it.

Rembrandt smiled, and then his expression turned serious. "R&B Brown...I wonder where he, I mean I, came up with that one."

A woman's voice suddenly took over the song. Wade offered, "maybe the B is his singing partner. This part sounds like a duet to me."

Rembrandt sat up a little straighter. "Singing partner? This tune was written as a solo! Man, you never know how weird things can get until you slide."

Quinn glanced over at Rembrandt and tried to look helpful. "On the bright side, she's pretty good. Maybe you two are the Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell of this world."

Rembrandt looked upset for a few moments longer, and then his expression softened. "I could deal with that. You're right, I'm overreacting. It's just that songs are like your children, and you start getting protective." Rembrandt started paying closer attention to the song, to try to determine who the "B" was.

As the professor began to open the newspaper to read an article inside, Quinn thought he noticed something. "Professor...could you tell me what that part says?" He pointed at the spot which caught his eye.

The professor's expression turned to one of concern as he read. "In San Francisco yesterday, Robert Banks and Michael Hurley were each sentenced to ten years in prison for their terrorist acts relating to the Utopian movement..."

Wade looked at Quinn and they both exclaimed, "Hurley?!?!" Both were amused and stunned at the same time.

The professor continued reading. "Apparently, the two terrorists tried to sabotage a power plant as a means to further their agenda. It would seem that this world is not as safe as it might seem on the surface."

"What is their agenda, professor?" Quinn appeared to have recovered from his initial shock.

The professor tried to skim the article. "It sounds as if the Utopians are seeking to reverse what they see as technology's ruination of this world. They want to turn the clock back to a simpler time."

Wade had also settled down. "How simple?"

"The article doesn't give specifics. I would guess that they wish to eliminate electrical conveniences such as television, radio, and their mass transit system."

Rembrandt looked disgusted. "No television? Probably no recordings either, then. Man, that is warped. I couldn't stand a world like that."

The professor looked up from the newspaper. "History is filled with such movements, Mister Brown. People dissatisfied with their world, deciding that there was a Golden Age long ago which they long to bring back. Unfortunately, the 'good old days' were never as good as nostalgia makes them out to be. The name 'Utopia' is taken from an essay by Thomas More which criticized the world of the time and described an ideal world that did not exist. Communism was one attempt to create such a Utopia. What is interesting about this case is that technology is seen as the barrier to the ideal, rather than a means to bring it about. This seems like more of a nostalgia movement, rather than a classic utopian one."

The server arrived with the food, and the discussion was cut short. After their brunch, Rembrandt decided to go shopping to try to find out what this R&B Brown duo was. The professor decided to look into this "Utopian" movement, to find out if it could be a threat to them during the rest of their stay. Quinn realized that this would leave him alone with Wade, and right now that might be difficult because last night's date had left his feelings about his 'bud' a bit confused. "I think I'll come along, professor."

Wade smiled at Quinn. "I think I will too." The professor led the way as Quinn and Wade walked behind. Quinn looked a little uncomfortable as they walked to the train station.

Rembrandt headed downtown in search of a music-related store, and found one. Finding R&B Brown albums was not difficult, and he was very pleased to find out that he had done four more albums in this world than in his own. Rembrandt suddenly realized that a woman in the back of the store who had been staring at him was now moving in his direction. He turned to face her, and she wrapped her arms around him as she yelled, "Rembrandt!"

The newspaper article had mentioned that there was a non-violent wing of the Utopian movement based in Sunnyvale. Quinn and Wade were still following the professor as they walked from the train station to the offices of this "Utopia Today Society". The office consisted of a lobby with chairs, coffee tables, and racks of pamphlets and books. A sign over the door to a back room read "Speaker's Pulpit - Please Come In". It sounded as if a speech was going on. Quinn peeked in, and after a moment realized that he recognized the "speaker". He was a homeless eccentric on Quinn's world, and a senator on that Soviet-dominated world. He decided to listen for a while.

"No matter what happens, we can't give up. One day we will win, and the world will be the way it was a hundred years ago. My friends, we need your continued support to bring about our great dream..."

Rembrandt looked at this woman who had suddenly turned very friendly. She looked vaguely familiar, but he wasn't sure if he had met her before or not. Her long brown hair complemented her blue eyes and California tan. She appeared to be in her early to mid forties. He searched for the words to say, and decided to try to play along. "Hey, how have you been?"

The woman smiled. "Great, and I'm even better now. It's been what, fifteen years?"

Rembrandt thought back to his life then, and he could not find a memory of her being in it. "Yeah, that was at the..." He paused, hoping she would fill in the blanks. She did.

"Ritchie Valens concert. Backstage. That was the first time I got to meet his wife Donna. You were a great opening act."

Rembrandt had a little trouble digesting this comment, but struggled to make it seem as if there was nothing unusual about this conversation. He didn't want to have to try to explain why he suddenly was at a loss for words. "You liked that, huh?" He paused for a moment. "Thanks. Yeah, well, that day is kind of a blur to me."

The woman smiled. "I'm not surprised. If I remember right, you were getting married the next weekend. You had a lot on your mind."

Rembrandt tried to smile, but it was a struggle. "Yeah, I guess I did."

"How is Betty anyway?"

"Oh, she's good. No complaints." Rembrandt's mind raced. He tried to put the name "Betty" with the voice of his double's singing partner. No luck. The image was completely black.

"How about the kids?"

Rembrandt fought off a wave of panic. "Oh, about the same." There is no way I can keep faking my way through this conversation, he thought to himself. He decided to make a run for it. He glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Hey, I have to run. I just remembered I'm supposed to sing for a friend's kid's birthday party. It was great seeing you, though. Let's get together sometime soon."

The woman smiled. "You bet. Here's my card, so you won't forget." She tucked a business card in his hand.

"Thanks...take care," Rembrandt added as he hurried out the door. He walked a couple of blocks down the street, and stopped at a trolley station. With a sigh of relief, he looked at the card. "Skye Bleu, Realtor". Rembrandt laughed, despite how shaken he was feeling. "I guess I know what crowd she liked to hang with in the sixties." He paused, and reality again slapped him in the face. "Kids? Who the hell is this woman, anyway?"

Wade had collected over twenty pamphlets about the Utopian movement when it happened. First, there was a strange "clink" sound, like a metallic object striking concrete. Someone near the front of the office yelled "DOWN!". In a few moments, an explosion shook the building and demolished part of the front wall. Within a few minutes a siren could be heard in the distance by those who were still conscious. The professor crawled over to where Quinn was. With relief, he discovered that there were no obvious signs of serious injury. He looked around the room for Wade. No sign of her. He shook Quinn gently, to try to get him to react.

After a minute or so, Quinn began to come to. He groaned, and his speech was forced. "Professor? What happened?"

"It appears that this establishment has just made the acquaintance of some sort of bomb. Did you see where Miss Wells was when it happened? I can't seem to find her." Arturo tried to sound calm, but his face showed the gravity of his feelings.

"Wade? We've got to find her!" Quinn sat bolt upright, and regretted it. His head was pounding from its impact with the floor. He grabbed his head, and fell back to the floor. With all his strength, he pulled himself back up. Help me up!" Quinn's concern for Wade somehow gave him the energy to search for her.

Five minutes had passed when the police and fire department arrived in specially designed trolley cars. The professor walked over to meet them in order to explain the situation, while Quinn continued to frantically search and to call out Wade's name.

Several minutes later, Quinn heard the sounds of someone squirming from underneath a bookcase. He called out Wade's nam, and she answered. "Yes, get me out of here!"

Quinn's pulse quickened as he ran over to where Wade was trapped. He tried to lift the case, but it was too heavy. He also was barely able to stand. "We'll get you out of there!" He looked over at a group of firemen. "Please, I need your help!" They ran over, and with little effort were able to lift the bookcase. A chair had apparently saved Wade from being seriously hurt by the falling bookcase, and it looked as if she was virtually unharmed. Quinn helped her to her feet, and threw his arms around her.

At first Wade was too shaken to speak, so she just held Quinn close. The professor helped the police and firemen to search the rubble and randomly strewn furniture for more victims. One of the police officers shook his head as he helped another man to get up. "If they had known what they were doing, you'd all be dead now."

The "speaker" from the back room emerged into what remained of the lobby. "Indeed, officer. However, if the bomber had known what he was doing, he would not have made this peaceful office his target."

The policeman scowled. It was clear that he was tired of the terrorism which had come of the conflict between the Progressives and the Utopians. He shook his head again, and went back to helping the victims.

Before long, the rescue crews had determined that there were no deaths. Only four people needed to be taken to a hospital, the rest were fine after receiving some first aid. As the paramedics finished treating Quinn, Wade looked at him and the professor. "Let's go back to the motel." Both nodded, and the three made their way back to the motel. Quinn was wobbly from a mild concussion, and leaned on Wade.

Rembrandt looked up as the three walked into the room. "What happened to you?!?"

Quinn plopped down in a chair. "Oh, just a routine terrorist bombing. How was your day?"

Rembrandt stared at Quinn in disbelief. "A bombing? I thought you were going to check out the peaceful ones, not the terrorists. What happened?"

Wade gave Rembrandt one of the pamphlets she had brought back with her. "According to this, there's another group of terrorists who are trying to stop the Utopian terrorists by using the same methods. I read it on the way back here."

Rembrandt glanced at the pamphlet. "Oh great. So we're caught in the crossfire."

The professor nodded. "I believe the best course of action would be for us to make our way back to San Francisco, and to stay away from public areas as much as possible until we slide."

Wade had seemed lost in thought, but looked up after hearing the professor's suggestion. "I wonder if that's why there are so many takeout windows because a lot of people would try to avoid public places. I don't understand why the restaurants are bigger too, though."

Quinn looked up from the area of carpet he had been staring at. "Who knows. Maybe they think bigger is safer. Oh, my head..." Quinn looked like he was about ready to pass out.

Rembrandt looked at Arturo. "Let's forget San Francisco. I think Q-ball here could use as much rest as we can give him, and I've never heard of a terrorist bombing a Motel 12. Let's just slide from here."

Quinn was in no mood to argue. "Whatever. I'm going to lie down..."

Wade looked at Quinn with a great deal of concern. "I think Rembrandt's right. They did say he should take it easy for a few days."

The professor sat down. "Very well. I suppose this place is as safe as any other. If you don't mind, I think I am going to lie down as well. This has been a most trying day."

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

As the time to slide was nearing, Rembrandt was watching VH-2 on the TV. He was very frustrated that he had not seen any R&B Brown videos. The video jockey mentioned that one was coming up, and he figured that with his luck it would be right after the timer went off. The professor was reading a book he had bought at the convenience store a few blocks away. Wade and Quinn were on one of the beds, watching the TV while discussing the next slide. Quinn had mostly recovered from his concussion, and was starting to be able to speak coherently again.

The wormhole appeared in front of the bathroom door. Quinn leaped through first, followed by Wade and then the professor. As Rembrandt was turning off the TV, the video jockey was announcing the next video. "And now, your favorite duo, R&B Brown, in their nostalgic remake of the song which put Betty Travis and the Primettes on the map, long before she became Betty Brown in 1980..."

Rembrandt caught a glimpse of his double's wife as he forced himself to turn off the TV and jump into the vortex. He laughed a little, and yelled. "Of course!"

The End