Sliders: High Society (3 of 20)

 by Jules Reynolds and Nigel G. Mitchell

Wade pressed her face hard against the glass of her window, watching the pavement retreat from her. The inside of the helicopter shook with the roar of the blades as she forced herself to turn away.

Her arms were still in the tight grip of the person that had taken her into the helicopter, sweeping her out of the mob into safety. Wade turned to find herself looking into his smiling face. But it was fake, molded from plastic, giving it the stiff appearance of a clothing store mannequin. It was some sort of robot, its body clothed in a blue-and-silver uniform. A dead giveaway were its eyes that glowed blue in their sockets.

There were other robots in the helicopter. One was behind the controls of the airborne vehicle. Others sat motionless along the sides of the copter, holding guns from which smoke drifted. Only one of the robots was active, still holding her in its soft, but cold grip.

The robot clicked, then spoke in a voice too calm and friendly to be real. "Are you all right, ma'am?"

"Yeah," Wade breathed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Get your hands off me."
 
Wade began to twist her arms, trying to break free of the robot's grip. But the robot immediately released her, lowering its arms to its sides.

Wade rubbed her sore forearms. The robot had grabbed her hard when it yanked her off the street. "Where am I? Where are you taking me?"

"We are taking you back."

Wade breathed heavily, glaring at the too-perfect face looking back at her. "Back? Back where?"

"Back to Uptown," the robot said.

Wade looked back out of the window again. She could see the sides of buildings sweeping past, enormous skyscrapers that never seemed to end.

"Uptown?" Wade asked. "You mean up there?"

"Correct," the robot said. "Where you belong."

Wade looked back at the robot with narrowed eyes. "You keep saying that. What makes you think I belong in Uptown or wherever?"
 
The robot stretched out a hand towards her neck. Wade lunged back until she realized it was reaching for her gold necklaces. The robot touched them, lifting them slightly to direct her attention to it.

"Only Uptowners," the robot said, "wear jewelry. Therefore, you are an Uptowner."

The realization of what was happening struck Wade. She was being taken away from the others, from her friends, from the timer, from everything. Her rescue had become a nightmare.

"No, I'm not an Uptowner," Wade said. "Look, there's been some sort of a mistake. Just put me back down..."

"I'm afraid that is not possible," the robot said. "Uptowners are not allowed Downtown. It is against regulation 2318-GKL..."

"I don't care about your stupid regulations," Wade yelled. "Take me back right now or I swear I'll jump out of this helicopter..."

The robot clamped its hand back onto her arm. This time, its grip tightened until Wade grunted in pain.

"I'm afraid that is not possible," the robot said. "We are taking you where you belong."

Wade was about to fight when she caught sight of the world outside the window. Sunlight was shining through the window again as the helicopter rose above the shelter of the buildings.

San Francisco was a vast sea of skyscrapers. All of them were topped with luxurious structures and buildings. She could see a dome covering one of them, sheltering grass and trees like a park. Another penthouse resembled a Grecian temple with pillars and grandiose statuary. It was all a complete reversal of the degradation she had seen on the streets.

"We are taking you," the robot continued, "back to Uptown."

* * *

Quinn stumbled over a pile of broken concrete and rubble, trying to see in the ever-present shadows. It was daytime. He knew it had to be day, since it had been day on their last world, and relative time usually didn't change on other worlds. But there was no light. The buildings all around them blocked it all out, casting the city into darkness.

"Wade!" Quinn shouted. "Wade, where are you?"

He heard the professor's voice, calling out Wade's name, too, followed by Rembrandt. Quinn tracked them, lurching past a woman in clothes caked with dirt. He turned a corner to find Arturo and Rembrandt in front of a long-deserted bank that now roared with flames pouring from its windows.

"Anything?" Quinn asked.

Rembrandt shook his head. "Nah, man, she's gone. Disappeared. Wherever that helicopter you saw took her, it ain't around here."

"Agreed," Arturo said. "I believe we should widen our search."

Quinn closed his eyes as he sighed. "Yeah. But at least the fighting is over. We'll be able to cover more ground."

Quinn put his hand up to his neck and massaged it, trying to ease the tension out of it. A sharp pain shot through to his temple and he winced. As he lowered his hand he saw blood staining his fingers.

Arturo frowned and turned Quinn to look at the back of his head. Quinn felt the professor's fingers probing through his scalp until there was another sting of pain.

"You've got a nasty cut there, Mister Mallory," Arturo said. "We need to get that taken care of quickly. Starting with something clean to bandage it with."

Rembrandt pulled his coat closer around himself as a cold wind fluttered their clothes. "Yeah, well, good luck on this world. It's like one big slum."

"Yes," Arturo said, "I think you've hit the proverbial nail on the head, Mister Brown. It seems that the San Francisco of this world is in an appalling state of decay and financial ruin."

Quinn shielded his eyes to look up at the buildings towering over them. They were so high that their tops faded into the clouds. "Well, they can't be that poor. They could afford to build these big buildings."

Rembrandt followed his gaze. "Yeah, somethin' weird's goin' on around here, guys. I mean, who needs places this big?"

"Perhaps to house a larger population," Arturo suggested.

Quinn closed his eyes, fighting the sudden wooziness sweeping through him. "Later. Right now, we gotta find Wade."

Then he was falling forward and Arturo was catching him.

Arturo struggled to prop Quinn back on his feet. "Wrong, Mister Mallory. First, we are getting you to a doctor. Then we shall see about finding Miss Welles."

Rembrandt jogged away from them, his boots crunching on the uneven pavement. "Hey, I think I saw a doc a few blocks away."

Arturo wrapped one of Quinn's arms around his neck to support him, then began helping Quinn forward. "Lead on, Mister Brown."

They made their way through the streets of the city. Quinn's head cleared enough to make out huddled masses all around them. Men, women, children, all wearing tattered clothes, gathering around fires in barrels to keep warm. Quinn thought back to the professor's comments, and wondered again what kind of world they had found themselves on.

Rembrandt lead them back to the area where they had first slid into. The riot was over, but people still lay in the road, groaning in pain. Some of them wore ragged strips of cloth wrapped around their arms, legs, heads, or ribs, holding
on pads stained with blood.

Only one man stood, wearing a coat with a red cross painted on the back and sleeves. He was tending to one woman, winding a ribbon of cloth around her stomach as fast as he could.

"Are you a doctor?" Rembrandt asked.

"Yes," the man said without looking up.

"Hey, great. We got a friend who's hurt bad."

The man used a pair of scissors to cut the cloth, then moved to someone else. "I'm sorry, but he'll have to get in line. We've got a lot of wounded, and I have to work on order of arrival and severity of injuries."

"That's okay," Quinn said. "I can wait. Set me down, professor."

Arturo lowered Quinn to the ground. Quinn settled back, trying not to let chunks of loose rock dig into his sides. He watched the doctor run from one patient to another.

"Hey," Quinn said, "were you around here earlier?"

The doctor looked up at him. "Yes. After that fiasco, I knew I'd be needed. Why?"

"Did you happen to see a woman getting taken into a helicopter? About this tall with brown hair, wearing a lot of jewelry?"

The doctor filled a hypodermic needle with a clear fluid from a bottle. "Yes. She was taken by one of the police helicopters, right?"
 
Rembrandt's face broke into a smile. "Hey, yeah. You know where they took her?"

The doctor pulled the needle out of the bottle. "There's only one place they could have taken her. Uptown."

"Uptown?" Arturo asked. "Where is that? Is it far?"

The doctor stared at him. "Sure it's far. About two hundred stories straight up."

He pointed at the swirling clouds above them.

Arturo shielded his eyes as he gazed up into the skies where buildings loomed. "Well, how do we get there? It's very important that we reunite with her soon."

The doctor shook his head. "Get up there? Look, I don't know where you three came from, but if you're down here, and she's up there, then you're never seeing her again. Ever."

Sliders: High Society (2 of 20)

by Jules Reynolds and Nigel G. Mitchell

The brick wall Quinn slammed into would've broken his nose if he hadn't pulled his head back at the last second. Instead, he hit his chest and fell over on dusty ground. He stood up and rubbed his arm, looking around a long and narrow alleyway. A thick darkness hung over the area making it difficult to see for more than a few feet, and a pungent smell of trash and smoke stung his nostrils. It was so dark that he thought he was underground, but when he looked up, he saw a hint of gray and boiling clouds at the peaks of massive towers all around them.

"Everyone okay?" he asked.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he spotted Wade straightening herself and her jewelry out. Behind her, Arturo helped Rembrandt to his feet.

"Yes, my boy," Arturo said, "I do believe that on this occasion, Mister Brown did not kick me in the back."

Rembrandt grinned. "Yeah, and for once you're not complainin' about it. Makes a nice change."

Wade wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Geez, this alley stinks!"

"Yeah, it's pretty dark too. Let's move somewhere that's better lit, guys." Quinn headed for the mouth of the alley that was slightly brighter.

He didn't take more than a couple of feet before he tripped on something on the ground. He lurched forwards to crash onto the ground nearby.

"What the...?" he exclaimed and moved his hands across the rough, dirty ground to feel the obstacle and move it out of the way.

He could make out a bundle of what looked like rags in his way. He took hold of it with both hands and heaved hard, flipping the rags over.

Wade covered her mouth and turned to the alley wall.

The "bundle" was the very thin body of a young man with dirty, ragged clothing.

"I suggest that we leave this area, Mister Mallory," said Arturo. "It's obvious that we cannot do anything for this poor wretch. I do not think that remaining here will serve any useful purpose."

Arturo took Wade's arm firmly, and guided her past the body and into the mouth of the alleyway.

Quinn looked reluctantly at the body. "Sorry to see such a young life should end like this."

"Looks like this ain't gonna be paradise, man." Remmy moved with Quinn to join the others.

Quinn nodded numbly.

The alleyway opened onto a wider street that had a little more light. It seemed fairly deserted, although several shapes moved slowly across on the other side. The nearer the shapes came to the group, the easier it was to see that they were poorly dressed, moving like frightened animals to avoid contact with others. Fires burned in trash cans while buildings stretched high into the clouds and beyond.

As the group stood contemplating the darkness and wondering which way to go, the sky suddenly filled with light and sound.

Shafts of light lit up the street in which they found themselves. Sounds of people screaming assaulted their ears, as a large mob appeared at one end of the street and made its way towards them.

Quinn gripped Wade's arm and pulled her in the other direction, Arturo and Rembrandt close on their heels.

Dark, blue and silver shapes swooped in from above them, accompanied by a throbbing roar.

"Helicopters! Police Helicopters!" Quinn shouted, trying to get his voice heard above the noise of the rotors and the screaming, baying mob which seemed to be heading right towards them. "Into this doorway, fast!"

He pushed Wade up against the closed door and pulled Rembrandt and Arturo in next to him.

The mob was discernible as individuals now. Hundreds of men and women running in the street in front of them, fighting with each other and with strange, stiff looking men in uniforms. The brilliant blue and silver of the uniforms contrasted strongly with the dull, colorless clothes the majority of the people were wearing.

Intermittently, gunfire rang out. Wade was sure she could hear individual screams after each burst of gunfire, and the dull thud as each time someone fell to the ground.

"We've got to get away from here, Mister Mallory," Arturo shouted above the noise.

Quinn nodded and looked for a way through the swarming masses.

To the left of the mob, the area was clearer. Quinn pointed and pulling Wade with him, ran towards the escape route.

The large and ugly sneer sat on a man's face as he rose suddenly in front of Quinn and put a hand out. The force shoved Quinn backwards.

As he sprawled on the ground and scrambled to his feet, he could see Arturo and Rembrandt had problems of their own. Some of the brute's friends were busy ensuring that any escape route was cut off for them as well.

Quinn heard the shot ring out. He watched in mute fascination and horror as his assailant lurched forwards towards him, his eyes rolling backwards into his head, a thin trickle of blood seeping from his mouth.

Quinn couldn't stop the man from falling. He couldn't get out of his way either. The force thrust his head backwards, and he felt the crack as it hit the ground below him. He tried to move, his head swimming, but the sheer body weight pinned him to the ground. His eyes roamed desperately for Wade.

"Wade!" He heard his voice, but it seemed to disappear into the cacophony of sound which rang around him.

"Quinn!" He heard her voice calling out to him, but from where?

He heard the whine of the helicopter rotor blade and saw her. The silver and blue metallic figure had her pinned within its grip as it walked steadily towards the helicopter. She struggled hard, kicking and punching as she was carried forwards. It seemed to have little effect on her captor.

As he watched the helicopter rise gracefully from the scene of devastation, and saw Wade's face pressed against the window, staring out at the scene below her, his heart sank. 

Sliders: High Society (1 of 20)

by Jules Reynolds and Nigel G. Mitchell

The small coffee house overlooked the water with tables arranged in a neat line outside. A warm sun smiled down on the people who sat there, chatting easily to one another.

Professor Arturo eased himself back on his chair and gazed across the water to the small boats nestled side by side. They moved gently with the current, bobbing back and forth together.

"I wonder if Miss Welles has found what she was looking for?" He picked up the daily newspaper which had arrived along with their drinks.

Rembrandt sighed. "Who knows? Sure beats me why she wanted to go off exploring. This world looks pretty ordinary to me."

Quinn looked up from the magazine he was studying. "Yeah, well, we've been down that road before. Never assume ordinary just by appearances. Anyway, no one stops Wade when she wants to do something."

Rembrandt grinned. "Yeah, you got that right, Q-Ball."

Arturo put the paper down. "I'm sure it has something to do with the flier she was handed this morning. Do you remember that strange woman who approached her just after we'd arrived?"

"Yeah." Quinn narrowed his eyes. "Did anyone notice the way the woman spoke to her but wouldn't even look at us?"

"Yes, that was rather odd. I thought at first she was just shy, but all the other women we've seen have done the same thing. Avoided eye contact with us."

"Maybe men are superior here or somethin," suggested Rembrandt. "Like Love World."

Arturo looked at him. "Hmm...it could well be that or perhaps some strange custom in this world. I doubt we'll find out in the short space of time we're here."

"Let's just hope she doesn't forget we're sliding out soon."

"She won't," murmured Quinn, his head bowed down in his magazine.

A young waitress moved across to their table and placed a tray down in front of them.

"Thank you, my dear." Arturo smiled and took a bagel from the plate.

The girl lowered her eyes and moved hurriedly away. A flush of embarrassment tinged her cheeks.

"Looks like they're all shy, Professor." Rembrandt chuckled as he reached for a bagel and took a bite.

"Yes. Very strange indeed." Arturo dropped the newspaper he held to the table. "Good lord!"

Quinn followed the Professor's gaze. Wade had returned.

Rembrandt's eyes widened at the sight of the diminutive figure staggering towards them, laden down with gold chains, rings and bracelets. "Sweetheart, you'll sink through the floor!"

Wade just smiled as she reached the three men.

Arturo rolled his eyes skywards."Miss Welles, I think 'overkill' is an applicable word at this juncture."

"Will you guys quit complaining and help me carry this stuff?" Wade started to pull gold chains over her head, and handed them to each of the men in turn.

Quinn fingered the gold he was handed. "Must be thousands of dollars worth here."

Wade smiled. "Nope, hundreds of *thousands* of dollars worth." She held out her fingers to show the thick bands of gold on them.

Rembrandt whistled at a shiny gold bracelet in his hands. "Wow, Wade. How'd y'all manage to get all these, girl?"

"Oh it was easy. I just--" Wade swung around as a hand rested on her shoulder.

"I assume that these items of jewelry are yours, miss?" A tall policeman eyed the chains in Quinn and Rembrandt's hands.

"Y-Yes, of course, officer."

"Well, I'd like to see them around *your* neck and not demeaning these gentlemen, if you please. Otherwise I'm afraid I'll have to discuss this further at the Station."

The man glared at Wade until she snatched the chains back from Rembrandt and Quinn, and draped them back around her neck. She smiled at the officer.

The policeman's eyes narrowed. "I'll forget I saw this, just this once. But in the future, please remember your place, miss."

Wade just nodded.

The officer swept a glare at the entire group as he walked away. They watched as he stopped at another table and spoke to two women seated on their own.

"He sure seems obsessed with jewelry," Rembrandt whispered, as the officer fingered the chains around the women's necks and examined them.

"What was *that* all about?" Quinn looked from Wade to the retreating policeman moving away down the waterside.

"Um...I meant to tell you guys..." Wade started.

Arturo folded his hands behind his back. "What Miss Welles is trying to tell you, my young friend, is that in this world, gold is cheap. Very cheap. Would you care to enlighten us, Miss Welles?"

Wade slumped down on a seat. "Okay, guys. Here's the deal. Gold is supposed to be for women only, and that's why it's so cheap. Any man seen with a gold wristwatch or anything else is considered to be 'debasing' the male form."

"And I gather you don't approve?"

"Hardly, Professor. If it debases men then it should debase women as well. But on this world, silver is the most valuable metal, so of course it's for men only."

Arturo eyed Wade with interest. "I find it interesting that you have obviously taken advantage of this situation. I would think that you would hate such a concept of sheer unadulterated repression of your sex to be abhorrent, Miss Welles. It does surprise me that you have fallen prey to such greed in a world which subscribes to these concepts."

"I did it for us, guys. Come on. We didn't even have enough on the last world to stay in some crummy backstreet hotel. I just couldn't resist it. Gold goes for virtual peanuts in this world. You'd have done it too, if you weren't too busy eating for half an hour, instead of exploring the local shops."

"I doubt we'd have been allowed through the doors of the shops you went into, Miss Welles. According to this newspaper, two men were imprisoned last week for stepping foot inside a Gold Emporium across town." Arturo dropped the newspaper to the table and took a last drink of his mineral water.

Rembrandt grimaced. "Man, what a crazy place!"

Arturo put down his glass. "Indeed. I wish I had time to read through the history books on this world. I cannot imagine for the life of me what has caused such a strange social code to develop."

"I got this when we arrived." Wade passed Arturo the leaflet she'd been handed.

Arturo sat silently while he digested the contents of the two page flier. The others watched and waited.

With a sigh, Arturo put the leaflet down and raised his eyes skyward. "Quite unbelievable."

Quinn put down his magazine. "Come on, Professor."

"Proverbs," Arturo said.

"What about them?"

"This society appears to be based on certain proverbs announced by one of their founder fathers. At least that's what this leaflet implies. The sad thing is that the proverbs which appear to be the most highly used here, are also the most oppressive to women. At least that's what this anti-establishment leaflet implies."

"Like what?"

Arturo looked across at Wade. "Well, this leaflet lists the ten main rules for this society. I think the first two are enough for our little discussion, don't you, Miss Welles?"

Wade nodded.

"Let me see. 'Silence is a woman's best garment'. That's the first one, swiftly followed by 'Speech is silver but silence is golden.' They've taken the first proverb and added the second. Hence silver is for the speakers and hence government of the country, who by all accounts are the men. Gold is therefore attributed to the silence of the women. Voila!"

Quinn groaned. "That's crazy."

Arturo shook his head. "No more crazy than any society's roots. This one just happens to believe totally in what was laid down a few hundred years ago. The rules have basically stuck."

"Let's find a place to slide, guys." Quinn rose to his feet and looked at Wade. "This place gives me the creeps. Let's get you and your wealth out of here before anything else can happen."

"Hey, just as well you don't have your nose pierced, girl!" Rembrandt laughed as he rose to his feet.

"Indeed, Mister Brown." Arturo chuckled at Wade. "A large gold nose ring would be worth a fortune on some worlds."

"No way! I wouldn't go that far for you guys!" She smiled. "Let's just hope that the next world is the kind of place to exchange this little pile for some greenbacks."

Wade started to get out of her seat and sat back down again. The weight around her neck made coordinated movement difficult.

"I think I'm gonna need some help here, guys," she squeaked.

"Come on, sweetheart." Rembrandt helped her to her feet and started to guide her towards the alleyway next to the coffee place. "You sure do go overboard sometimes."

Wade turned to glare at him. "You'll be thanking me when we're drinking champagne and eating caviar in the next world."

Quinn pointed the timer at the far wall of the alley and the blue beam spiked out, fanning out into a whirlpool of light.

Rembrandt and Arturo leapt through the mouth of the vortex, leaving Quinn and Wade to follow.

"You'll have to walk up to it and launch yourself at it," he recommended, suppressing a broad smile. "Or you could leave some behind--"

"I'm outta here!" She staggered forward, chains clanked as she ran, and threw herself into the vortex.

Quinn chuckled and jumped in after her.

He came out of the vortex and immediately slammed into a wall.

Sliders: Have a Nice Day (6 of 6)

by Nigel G. Mitchell

What is Sliders?

Arturo began to breathe faster as the men came towards him with their syringes. One of them yanked down the shoulder of Arturo's coat to expose his arm. Arturo began to struggle, but the cuffs and ropes held him fast. He could only grit his teeth and wait for the inevitable.

"You shall not prevail!" Kenny was screaming. "The young shall topple your empire and rescue us from destruction!"

For the first time, Thomas' smile flickered in confusion. "What is that old man babbling about?"

Sliders: Have a Nice Day (5 of 6)

by Nigel G. Mitchell

What is Sliders?

Crazy Kenny led Arturo through the dark and shadowy park. Occasionally, they passed other visitors to Golden Gate Park who gave them cheerful greetings. Kenny always ignored them and Arturo began to do likewise. The people didn't seem to notice or care, anyway.

Kenny finally led Arturo to a stream running through the park. Kenny crawled underneath the rocky bridge to a large shanty made of planks of wood. Arturo followed him inside.

Arturo's first thought was that it was the home of a madman. The bed was just a grimy blanket folded over and stuffed in a corner. The walls were literally papered with news clippings about seemingly unrelated topics. One was an article on the rising numbers of the depressed in America. Another was an advertisement for a home water-filtration system. A third was just a big picture of the classic "Have A Nice Day" smiley-face. A large X had been drawn over it.

Sliders: Have a Nice Day (4 of 6)

by Nigel G. Mitchell

What is Sliders?

Arturo stared at David and Quinn, who smiled back at him. "You...you what?"

"We wanna stay here," Quinn said. "This place is great. These people are so friendly and happy that we just...feel happy, too. David never had loving parents until now. And I never had a father in my world. So what's the point of leaving? We may never have it so good again."

"You can't be serious," Arturo said. "After...after all we've been through and done..."

"Hey, professor," Rembrandt said. "Lay off 'em, man. If they wanna stay, why can't we let 'em stay? As a matter of fact...I wouldn't mind hangin' around here myself."

Sliders: Have a Nice Day (3 of 6)

by Nigel G. Mitchell

What is Sliders?

The cab dropped them off in front of Quinn's house, a pleasant building that Arturo had grown quite fond of over the past few years. Heaven knew they'd seen it often enough. He was glad they knew for sure that they weren't home. The squeaky-gate test Quinn had invented had grown tiresome, not to mention annoying.

Arturo walked beside David Mallory up the front walk. David's eyes were wide and his walk unsteady with excitement. It was his first time seeing a double other than Quinn, and Arturo knew from experience that it could be quite nerve-wracking.

They climbed the front steps. David clenched his fists, looking up at the others in turn before reaching out and pushing the doorbell.

Sliders: Have a Nice Day (2 of 6)

by Nigel G. Mitchell

What is Sliders?

Arturo steeled himself as they walked onto the open streets of San Francisco. The first thing that caught his eye was how clean the streets were. Not even a cigarette butt lay in a gutter. And everyone was smiling. Everyone.

As a young woman passed the group, she gave each of them a cheery grin. "Good afternoon. Nice to see you."

Rembrandt gave her a half-hearted wave. "Uh, yeah. Nice to see you, too."

When the woman had moved down the sidewalk, a man in a well-tailored suit walked past Quinn. The man stopped and clasped Quinn's hand firmly.

Sliders: Have a Nice Day (1 of 6)

What is Sliders?

by Nigel G. Mitchell

The following story is part of the Fifth Slider serial, a Sliders fanfiction series created by David Pesqueira that introduces a fifth slider to the group. The events described take place a little before and immediately after the end of the first FS story, "Silent Voices." If you haven't read that story, I'd recommend that you do before reading this one.

There's also a major spoiler of "Double Cross" in this part of the story, so if you haven't seen that episode, be warned.

As usual, Maximillian Arturo struggled with a bout of nausea as he sailed through the Einstein-Rosen-Podolsky Bridge that connected alternate dimensions. The walls of the wormhole twisted and bounced him through the endless void. Colors, the likes of which no rainbow had ever shown, flowed around him in a river of light.

The scientist in him was always thrilled by sliding - the wonder of discovery, the rush of knowing that he was doing something only a handful of people had ever done. But the human in him sang with terror at the prospect of what lay at the end of their journey.

Sliders: Underground (2 of 2)

by Nigel G. Mitchell

What is Sliders?

"Oh, man," Quinn said. "Don't move, Wade. It cut you."

"We must disinfect it," Arturo said. "I doubt this cave is very sanitary."

"Disinfect it with what, professor?" Rembrandt asked. "This ain't exactly Walgreen's down here."

Quinn ignored them, focusing on the injury. He was trying to remember his first-aid training in health class. The wound bled a lot. That meant he needed to stop the blood. With pressure. That was it.