Sliders: Bloodline (1 of 4)

by Nigel G. Mitchell

In a hotel room at the Dominion, Wade knew the others packed up around her, but her attention remained focused on the TV in the living room. She lay back on the couch, one foot propped up to press her knee against her chest, her attention riveted to the screen.

Her attention weakened enough to become aware of Professor Arturo approaching her. He pulled on his long black coat as he glanced from her to the TV, then back again.

"Come, Miss Welles," he said. "We'll be sliding in a few minutes. Don't want to be late."

Wade waved him off without diverting her attention from the screen. "I know, professor. Gimme a minute. I wanna see this."

Arturo looked at the screen again. It showed a courtroom, one Wade had become intimately familiar with in the month they had stayed in this world. At the bottom of the screen, next to the CourtTV logo, read the subtitle "Richard Lynch Murder Trial."

Arturo shook his head. "I can't believe you're still watching this ghastly media circus."

Rembrandt looked up from where he packed his clothes. "Yeah, girl, how can you watch that thing?"

Wade tore her attention away from it to look at him. "Because it's interesting. I've never seen a trial live before. Besides, I can't wait to see that sicko Richard Lynch get his just desserts."

Quinn emerged from the bathroom, tucking his toothbrush into his breast pocket. "Sicko's not the right word. The guy kidnaps, tortures, and kills forty-two women and dumps their dismembered bodies into Golden Gate Bay. Makes Jeffrey Dahmer look like a Muppet Baby."

Arturo turned away from the television to stride to the front door. "Well, I for one have had my fill of this so-called Golden Gate Killer. I have never understood the American fascination with grisly murder and mayhem."

Rembrandt grinned at him. "Yeah, well, at least we ain't takin' pictures of our First Lady nude at the beach."

As Rembrandt gave off a high-pitched laugh, Arturo fixed a cool glare on him. "If that was a thinly-veiled dig at our coverage of the Royal Family, then I would care to remind you that not all of us Brits applaud the guerrilla tactics of our tabloid press. That is simply a result of American trash press spilling over onto our shores."

Wade tuned out the others' bickering as she watched the camera sweep over the courtroom. It lingered on a man seated at a table next to a lawyer. The man's calm, handsome face etched in her mind, Richard Lynch. The human monster the press had dubbed the Golden Gate Killer.

For a moment, Lynch turned his attention away from the judge to the camera. As his blue eyes focused on it, Wade felt as if he looked right at her. She couldn't hold back a shiver that ran through her. He seemed like something out of a nightmare.

The bailiff spoke. "All rise. This court is now in session. The honorable judge Carter Packard now presiding."

Everyone in the courtroom stood as the judge walked into the room. He ordered everyone to be seated, then fixed his gaze on Lynch.

"Mister Lynch," he said, "you have been found guilty of the murders of forty-two young women, and it has been passed to me to decide your fate. The casual and defiant nature to which you performed these crimes is well-documented. Your careless disregard for human life is evident in every single act of barbarism you committed. And your determination to continue to feed your bloodlust is without question, as evidenced by your assault on three guards in your prison cell. For this reason, I see no alternative but to sentence you to death by electrocution."

The courtroom erupted in cheers, drowning out the judge's formal description of the execution. Lynch's smile remained constant throughout as the audience laughed and hugged each other.

"Yes," Wade whispered. "Take that, you maniac."

Quinn touched her shoulder. "Hey, come on, Wade, we can't push it any closer to the wire."

"Yeah, okay." Wade switched off the TV and jogged after them. "You hear that, guys? Lynch is gonna fry."

"No, he won't, Miss Welles," Arturo said. "He'll be filing appeals until the millennium. Besides, I fail to see why it concerns us. This is not our world. And his death serves to aid our quest in no way whatsoever."

Wade swept her portable tape recorder and tapes into her coat pocket. "Boy, professor, could you be any more coldblooded? This guy killed people."

"Of which I am aware, and distraught. But as I've said before, it is important not to get too wrapped up in the worlds we encounter. We must stay focused on the task at hand - getting home."

"Whatever. Let's go, guys." Wade let the others walk out ahead of her, looked back at their hotel room, then shut the door behind her.

The slide took place in an alley behind the Dominion. They landed in their new world with relative ease and strode out onto the street. Wade scanned the place for some sign of a change from their own world. She found none.

"So far, so good," Rembrandt said. "Looks like home."

"Yes," Arturo murmured. "But we certainly should investigate. A newspaper should provide us with vital clues."

They headed off in a group towards a newsstand by the Lamplighter Bar and Grill across the street. Wade trotted after them, still thinking about Lynch. The exhibits the prosecution had shown during the trial were etched in her mind. She hoped she'd one day be able to get that monster out of her thoughts, but not today.

The newsstand had a wide variety of newspapers and magazines. As Arturo selected a copy of the Chronicle, Wade's eyes roamed the racks. She wondered if she should spare a few dollars from her budget to pick up a copy of PC World. She'd be interested in seeing what computer technology looked like in this world.

The words were out of her mouth the moment she saw it. "Oh, no."

Arturo flipped through his newspaper, but froze.

Quinn and Rembrandt looked back at her standing before the racks, staring down at the National Inquiry.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Rembrandt asked.

Wade pointed at the Inquiry with a finger she couldn't keep from trembling. They all read the headline and fell into a horrified silence as well.

The headline read "Golden Gate Killer Strikes Again. Forty-Ninth Body Found in Golden Gate Bay."

Wade looked up at the others. "In this world, they haven't caught Lynch."

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