Sliders: Double Trouble (4 of 4)

by Nigel G. Mitchell

The new Rembrandts didn't seem surprised by the fact that they had materialized out of thin air. They wandered around the hotel room, watching TV, looking out the window, waiting in line for the bathroom, and pouring themselves glasses of beer. And more Rembrandts popped into existence. The formerly empty hotel room became crammed with duplicates of Rembrandt.

"Man," Rembrandt whispered. His eyes were almost perfect circles as he looked at Quinn. "What's goin' on, Q-Ball?"

"We're not sure," Quinn said. "But I'll explain in the cab. The slide's coming, and I don't think we wanna get stuck in this world for the next thirty years."
"I heard that." Rembrandt forced his way past one of his doubles out the door.

Quinn and Rembrandt fought their way down the stairs, swept along by the never-ending flow of Rembrandt duplicates. They were carried out into the lobby where they made their way out of the front door.

The street was even more crowded than Quinn remembered it being. A Wade or two was even crawling on top of the swarms of doubles that walked the sidewalks. Quinn could see duplicates literally being squeezed out of windows of buildings they passed, as if the structures could no longer contain them.

The cab was still waiting for them, and was still only inhabited by the real Wade and Arturo, as well as the double of Arturo who served as their driver. Quinn was relieved. After what he had seen in the hotel room, he was more worried than ever.

Once they had managed to get into the backseat of the cab, Quinn slipped the driver a few more bucks. "Get us to Golden Gate Park as fast as you can."

The driver nodded. "You've got it."

He pulled the cab out into the street, which was now flooded with pedestrians. The driver blasted his horn as he made his way down the street to clear the way.

Quinn pulled the timer out of his pocket again to check it. "Not much time..."

"Why're we going to the park?" Wade asked. "Why not just wait here until we slide?"

"Because I think maybe we should leave this place at the same location we came in. Maybe that'll help. Unless..."

"All right, Q-Ball," Rembrandt said. "Lay it on me. What's the deal around here?"

Quinn slipped the timer back into his pocket. "Okay, we think it has something to do with the second wormhole that overlapped ours. At first, it was just doubles of us that kept popping up, like the driver. But then we saw a normal person change into
Wade. And, guys, in the hotel room, doubles of Arturo appeared out of thin air. I think that's where all these people are coming from."

"What kinda freaky world is this?"

"I have no idea. But I think we created it. I think...I think when we left through the two wormholes, the pattern of our formation into this world left an imprint in space-time, causing it to echo over and over again on all biological forms.."

"Okay," Rembrandt said. "Now can you give me that in English this time?"

"Look, in the last world, our wormhole overlapped with another, right? I think the two rips in spacetime interacted with each other and somehow changed them, altered them on a quantum level. Now when we left the wormhole to enter this world, we left hyperspace and reformed into normal space, right? Well, I think our exit through the
altered wormhole created a sort of a pattern in the fabric of space-time, a mold that keeps getting stamped onto this reality again and again."
 
Rembrandt nodded. "All right, that's a little better. I guess."

Quinn held up a hand, bending his fingers to illustrate his points. "First, our physical shapes materialized over people who already existed in this world. Notice that the cab driver turned into Arturo when he was around, and the waitress turned into Wade when their fingers touched. But then when this world ran out of people, it started forming doubles out of thin air."

The space over the passenger seat turned into a Quinn Mallory.

"This does not make sense," Arturo said. "It violates every known law of physics. Matter cannot be created or destroyed."

Wade grimaced as she watched the cab slowly plowing through their duplicates. "I don't think physics means much in this place, professor. In fact, I think sliding chucks all your precious laws out the window."

"Exactly," Quinn said. "I never really got a chance to study the wormhole and how it works. Remember the time it got hit by lightning and turned me into a ghost. But this...I just wish I could stay long enough to analyze this. It could change everything we know about science."

"Well," Rembrandt said, "I just wanna get outta this world as fast as I can."

The cab pulled up in front of the park. Quinn slipped the driver some money, then handed his double in the passenger seat a dollar, just for the heck of it.

The Sliders pushed and shoved and kicked their way up the sidewalk into Golden Gate Park. Even the wide grassy lawns had been replaced by a carpet of doubles of themselves. It got so crowded that no one even had room to move. The sea of bodies moved back and forth like waves, simply staring into nothing like zombies.

Only Quinn and the Sliders made their way through the ocean of their counterparts. It got harder and harder as Quinn pushed on. It took all his strength just to move two Wades aside to get through them. Then he had to find more strength to get past two others. By the time he reached the gnarled tree they had seen on their arrival, Quinn was exhausted.

The others were, too, breathing heavily and gasping for air.

"All right, Mister Mallory," Arturo wheezed. "How long until the slide?"

Quinn managed to get his arm past a Rembrandt next to him to reach the timer in his pocket. Then he had to yank it back into view. With barely enough room to move his fingers, Quinn folded the timer open to read the display.

"Ten seconds," Quinn yelled.

Wade's face twisted in pain. "I...I can't breathe."

"Me, either," Rembrandt grunted. "We're bein'...crushed to death."

A Wade formed above Quinn. It landed on top of him, twisting his neck, and sending shooting pains through his body. Quinn managed to shove her off.

All Quinn could see of Arturo was his arm waving in the air above the crowds.

The timer beeped. Quinn could only move his fingers enough to aim it into the air, and press the activation button. The beam of energy shot out to puncture the sky, and the wormhole formed in the air with a roar, blue light rushing into itself.

"Everybody up," Quinn managed to say.

He pulled himself up the bodies of those around him. The doubles didn't seem to mind. They had become like vegetables, unseeing and unknowing.

Quinn climbed up onto the shoulder of an Arturo. Wade pulled herself up, and Rembrandt and Arturo rose up from the crowds. They all balanced on the heads and shoulders of their doubles to reach the wormhole.

Wade jumped and was sucked into the wormhole, disappearing in a flash. One by one, the others leapt into it, disappearing into hyperspace.

***

Sliding out of the multicolored tunnel, Quinn crashed and rolled onto an empty lawn. There were no people anywhere, no doubles or himself. Just the park he had always known.

Quinn sat up. "Everybody okay?"

Rembrandt winced as he touched his ribs. "Yeah, but I got bruises on my bruises. All those elbows and knees jammin' into me..."

"Indeed," Arturo groaned. "I ache in places I never knew existed."

Wade eased herself to her feet. "But...at least we're out, right? We got away from all those doubles."

Rembrandt looked around the park. "Yeah. Safe and sound. Think it'll happen again in this world?"

"I think not, Mister Brown," Arturo sighed. "If Mister Mallory's theory is correct, then sliding through an intact wormhole should have removed our stamp on space-time. How long do we have until the next slide?"

Quinn looked down at his timer's display. "Eighteen minutes."

Rembrandt nodded and threw up his hands. "Well, it's not great, but at least we're gettin' some time again."

"Indeed," Arturo said. "Perhaps that last world did us some good, after all. It seems to have broken the neck of our frenzied sliding pace. Perhaps we'll be back to normal."

Wade rubbed her eyes. "Such as it is. Think we're home?"

Arturo glanced up at a bird sailing overhead, then did a double-take. "Look."

Quinn and the others followed his gaze as they watched the bird land on a nearby branch. Its feathered wings fluttered, then the bird took off again.

"Okay," Rembrandt said. "On this world, birds got four wings. I can live with that."

"Agreed," Arturo murmured, "after what we've just witnessed, a world filled with rabid dogs seems the next best thing to heaven. I believe it's time for brunch, my friends. Shall we?"

Arturo marched off across the park, followed by Wade, Rembrandt, and Quinn. The wormhole's roar faded as it closed behind them.
 
THE END

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