Sliders: Double Trouble (3 of 4)

by Nigel G. Mitchell

Wade said to Arturo, "So the thing about Lottery World is when--"

The waitress interrupted them with three plates of pancakes balanced on her arms. She set the dishes down in front of them. "Here you go. Three Fruity-Nutty Flapjacks. I'll get your 'to go' order in a second. Back in a jiffy."

As she walked away, Arturo picked up his knife and fork and began to cut into his pancakes. "Ah, now, Miss Welles, you are going to learn what noble heights the simple pancake can achieve."
Wade cut a piece of her pancake, took a bite, and nodded. "Hey, this is good."

"Indeed," Arturo said. "You see..."

Quinn dropped into the empty chair at their table, breathing hard. "Hey, guys..."

"Ah, Mister Mallory," Arturo said. "Just in time. Pull up a plate and join us."

Wade pointed at her pancakes with her fork. "You gotta try this, Quinn. It's the best."

"I'm not hungry." Quinn held out a hand. "Guys, the weirdest thing just happened to me. I just ran into my double outside."

Wade cut another slice of her pancake. "What's so weird about that?"

"You mean besides the fact that I was on the phone with my double at the time?"

Arturo was bringing his fork to his mouth, but halted. "I don't understand."

Quinn held up two fingers. "I was on the phone with my double. He and I talked about the sliding machine. He couldn't help."

Quinn lowered one finger, leaving one still in the air. "But as I was hanging up, I ran into another version of myself. He was like a businessman or something. The double I was talking to was at my house, miles away. There's no way he could've gotten to me in the time it took for me to hang up."

"Weird," Wade said. "So...so maybe you've got two doubles in this world. Maybe you're a twin."

"Maybe. But get this. He saw me, brushed past me, but he never seemed to notice the fact that I looked just like him."

Arturo put his fork back down. "Just like the cab driver. He seemed oblivious to my resemblance as well."

Quinn held up his hands. "I think something weird's going on around here, guys."

Wade screwed up her face. "What, because there are two Quinns in this world? I dunno. Doesn't seem worth worrying about. I mean, we'll be outta here soon, anyway."

The woman in a waitress uniform made her way through the thick crowds to their table. She held a paper bag with the Pancake Paradise logo on it. "Here you go, guys. One Fruity-Nutty Flapjack to go. That'll be ten thirty-five."

"Great." Wade fished some bills out of her pocket. "My treat, guys, okay?"

She held the money out to the waitress. The waitress took them from her.

The waitress' face seemed to grow hazy. Her nose shrank. The woman's long hair retreated up into her head, turning from blonde to brown. Her pupils swam.
Her body compressed, growing shorter.

Within a brief second, the waitress had turned into an exact duplicate of Wade.

The waitress still smiled as she walked away. "Have a nice day, guys."

Quinn looked at the shocked faces on Wade and Artur. DDid you guys see what I
just saw?"

"Yeah," Wade said in a throaty voice. "She turned into me."

"This does not bode well, my friends," Arturo said.

Quinn looked around the crowded room. His eyes roamed the tables until he found what he was looking for.

At a table in the corner, a couple were eating and laughing. They looked like Rembrandt and Wade.

"I'm not sure," Quinn said, "but I don't think I have twins in this world, after all."

Wade pointed at a man at the counter, buying a slice of pie. "Look, it's Rembrandt."

And it was. Except this Rembrandt wore a set of yellow overalls.

"That's not him," Quinn said. "Guys, I think something's wrong. We gotta get Remmy."

"I'm with you." Wade stood up.

"Just one moment." Arturo pointed at his pancakes. "What about our meal?"

The people at the tables around them shimmered until they all changed with an unearthly hum. Women turned into Wade. Men turned into Quinn. The buzz of conversation continued as if nothing had happened.

Arturo stood up. "Ah, on second thought, my appetite seems to have diminished." Arturo quickly climbed out of his seat.

The three of them headed for the door. It chimed as they pushed it open and rushed out onto the street. Thick crowds of people moved on the sidewalk from one place to another.

"Good heavens," Arturo said, "I have never seen San Francisco this active."

"I know," Quinn said. "And it worries me. Look at their faces."

Everyone on the street looked like either Quinn, Rembrandt, Wade, or Arturo.

"What's on Earth is happening?" Arturo asked.

Quinn drew his timer out of his jacket and checked the display. It had only twenty minutes left. "I dunno, but we gotta get Remmy and slide, fast."

He ran to the curb and hailed a cab. Climbing into the backseat, Quinn noticed the familiar smell of pine trees. Then he looked at the driver. It was Arturo again.

"Where to?" the professor's double asked in a bored tone.

Quinn shifted over as Wade and Arturo climbed in next to him. "Uh, the Dominion Hotel. You took us there earlier."

"You have me mistaken for someone else." The duplicate Arturo shifted to drive. "I've never seen you before. Dominion it is."

Quinn leaned back in his seat and looked at the others.

They looked back at him with eyes widened in fear.

"Mister, Mallory," Arturo whispered, "I find myself at a loss for an explanation for this."

Quinn closed his eyes, trying to think. There had to be some explanation for this. Something. It was in the back of his mind...then it hit him.

Quinn opened his eyes. "The second wormhole. Of course. The second wormhole that opened up over ours. Maybe...maybe when the two wormholes overlapped, we were affected, after all. Maybe the two wormholes did something that's causing us
to duplicate."

"But we're not just duplicating," Wade whispered. "People are turning *into* us."

"I know. I...I don't have a clue why this is happening." Quinn closed his eyes again, feeling sick. "But something's telling me to be glad we're leaving this world so soon."

Arturo looked out the car window at the thick streams of people walking the streets. They all looked like the Sliders. An Arturo carrying a boombox. A Wade wearing a
business suit. A crying Quinn being led by the hand of another Wade who scolded him like a toddler.

"Incredible," Arturo said. "The streets seem even more congested than before."

Wade peered over his shoulder. "Hey, you're right. It's like New York City out there."

Arturo looked past her at Quinn. "I must offer the suggestion that this congestion is connected to our mysterious dilemma. If so, I'm afraid this situation may grow worse before it gets better."

* * *

By the time Quinn got out of the cab at the Dominion, the sidewalks were so thick with people that they couldn't see anything else outside the window.

Quinn spoke to the driver. "Keep the engine running. I'll be right back."

"It's coming out of your wallet, young man," the driver said.

Quinn turned to the others. "Okay, whatever's going on, I think it would be faster and easier for just me to go."

Wade just nodded. Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion.

Arturo only looked out his window, muttering to himself. Quinn didn't blame him. It was getting pretty freaky seeing hundreds of copies of himself trooping past.

Quinn tried to open the door, but there were so many doubles walking by that he had to shove some of them aside. Quinn elbowed his way through the crowds to the door of the Dominion.

The lobby was just as crowded as the street. Quinn forced his way through hordes of Wades, Rembrandts, Arturos, and Quinns to reach the front desk.

The clerk looked up at him. It wasn't Gomez Calhoun, the usual manager of the Dominion. It was Professor Arturo.

"And what can I do for you, young man?" the double asked.

"I'm looking for a Rembrandt Brown," Quinn said, trying to be heard over the roar of conversation. "He checked in about five minutes ago.

"Certainly, sir." Arturo flipped through a large book on his desk. "Ah, he's in room 3B."

"Thanks," Quinn yelled.

The double's smile wavered. "No need to yell, sir, I can hear you quite well."

"Right. Whatever." Quinn shoved another Quinn out of his way, struggling not to be knocked over as he headed for the stairs.

Quinn fought his way upstream in a river of Rembrandts descending the stairs. By the time he reached 3B, Quinn had to hang onto the doorframe to keep from getting swept away. He hammered on the door with his fist.

"Remmy!" he yelled. "Open up! We gotta slide!"

The door opened. Rembrandt stood in the living room of an empty hotel room, yawning.

"Yeah, thanks for the wakeup call," Rembrandt sighed. "Must've overslept. Hey, what's with you? Look like you've seen a ghost or somethin'."

Quinn lurched as a Wade's elbow jammed into his back, then said, "We got trouble. Something's wrong."

Rembrandt frowned. "Wrong? What's wrong?"

The air next to Rembrandt grew hazy, like waves of heat rising from hot metal on a summer's day. The haziness came together into a definite shape that Quinn recognized before it even solidified.

A duplicate of Rembrandt appeared with a popping noise.

Rembrandt lunged back, slamming into the wall behind him, his eyes wide as he stared at the double. A second Rembrandt calmly turned and walked into the apartment. A third Rembrandt materialized in the living room, then a fourth, a fifth, and a sixth.

Quinn pointed at them. "That's what's wrong."

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