"It's a score!"
The people in the bar cheered. Rembrandt Brown stared at the people sitting by him at the bar. He looked up at the TV screen above the bar.
He frowned. He was used to people yelling 'score' for football or basketball. But football did not exist on this world. Rembrandt drank his beer, wonder how soccer got so popular.
"There you are!"
Rembrandt turned. Melissa Clark sat next to him. She tossed her long black hair and smiled. Rembrandt managed one as well.
"So," Melissa said, "enjoying your soccer game?"
"You cut deep, Girl," Rembrandt said.
"Well, good news," Melissa said. "It's time."
Rembrandt's face darkened. Melissa frowned.
"Remmy--" Melissa started.
"Sorry," Rembrandt said, "But is this even a good idea?"
"Do we really have a choice?"
"We would if it was Quinn."
Melissa's face darkened. Rembrandt was sorry if he hurt her feeling. That was how he felt.
"He said he was trying to track him, Rem."
Rembrandt looked at Melissa. "And you believe him, Melissa? Really? After Alexandrian World? After--"
"Rem--"
"After he set off a raging slide bomb?" Rembrandt said, cutting Melissa off. "Who knows how much blood he has on his hands?"
"If any."
"You keep telling yourself that," Rembrandt said, standing up. "We shouldn't have left that world until we were sure Quinn wasn't there."
Rembrandt stormed away. Melissa caught up to him. She put a hand on his shoulder. He pushed it away.
"Rembrandt!" Melissa snapped.
Rembrandt turned to face her. He crossed his arms over his chest. She did the same.
"We need to stick together,"Melissa said. "We're all we have and the last thing we need is to be fighting."
Rembrandt couldn't disagree with that. Still, he looked at her.
"Then find Quinn."
Randy tilted his head. He was lost in thought. For once, it wasn't over an equation or an invention. He turned, looking at Ethan.
"Well?" Randy asked.
Ethan looked back at him. His hands in his pocket made him look like some shy boy next door. Randy was also happy he shaved.
"I liked it," Ethan answered. "Especially the scene after he had sex wit her for the first time."
Randy's face lit up. "With the dancers!"
"And the band!" Ethan added.
"And the Disney bird!"
They laughed. Randy smiled. He...had died. Cassandra's vision had happened. Professor Darnell Brown had killed him. Ethan...brought him back.
Ethan punched Randy in the shoulder playfully.
"Don't trance out on me," Ethan said.
"On you?" Randy said, stopping in front of the Dominion. He grabbed Ethan in a hug. "Never."
"Gag!"
Randy looked at the speaker. Richard Hall came out of the Dominion Hotel. He glared at them.
"Can we go?" Richard asked.
The whir sounded as Richard fell out of the wormhole. He landed in a puddle. He looked up at the wormhole, glaring.
"Son of a--"
Then...the wall next to him exploded.
WHAT IF YOU SLIDE TO A DIFFERENT DIMENSION? A PLACE WHERE YOU'RE THE SAME PERSON, IT'S THE SAME YEAR, BUT EVERYTHING ELSE IS DIFFERENT?
OVER SIX YEARS AGO, WE HAVE SEEN...
...A WORLD WHERE THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE NEVER TOOK PLACE...
OR
...A WORLD WHERE YOUR DREAMS OF BEING A STAR CAME TRUE...
OR
...A WORLD WITH A WAR BETWEEN TWO DIFFERENT ALIEN RACES?
BUT...WHAT IF YOU COULD NEVER GET HOME?
SLIDERS: ALTERNATE SPIN-SEASON 7
EPISODE 2: WHAT'S IN A REVOLUTION?
Randy shot out of the blue vortex. He tripped over gravel. He barely regained his balance as he looked around.
He stood in the ruins of a collapsed building. People ran around him in a panic. He wondered what was going on.
A whir sounded behind him. He looked to see it was Melissa. Another whir came from the blue vortex. Rembrandt sot out of it. The vortex closed.
Randy looked around. Ethan had jumped in before him. Where was...
Then he saw him. Ethan ran after some figure. The figure had Richard.
"Ethan!" Randy yelled.
Randy took a step. Suddenly, another building exploded.
Richard felt out of it. His head throbbed. He tried to think about what happened. It kept slipping out of his grip. Then for a moment he remembered.
The wall exploded. He had just slide in. He was knocked out.
"Hey!"
Richard frowned. He knew that voice. It...was...Ethan! Why was he yelling?
Then Richard realized it. He wasn't walking, but he was moving. Someone was moving with him.
"What in the world!" Richard exclaimed. "Hey!"
The figure stopped. Richard fell to the ground. He glared up at the figure. He was sick and tired of...
His eyes widened. He saw the older man was dressed like someone from the Colonial times...all breeches and petty shirts and vests. He also saw who it was.
A figure grabbed the older man. It was Ethan.
"What do you think--" Ethan started.
"Hold up!" Richard yelled, standing up. "I got this, Thuggie."
Ethan paused. He released the older man. He gave Richard a frown.
"Thuggie?" Ethan uttered.
"Yeah. I nickname,"Richard said. "Deal with it." He started at the older man. "Hello...again...Dad."
Rembrandt saw Melissa tremble a bit as they walked into the library.
"Don't worry, Melissa," Rembrandt said. "We left a note. When Randy wakes up--"
"If," Melissa countered.
"He's gonna wake up," Rembrandt said.
"How do you know, Rembrandt?" Melissa asked. "The last time he was out, he was dead."
"And you revived him."
Melissa's face darkened. She looked away.
"No," Melissa said. "Ethan revived him. I...cried in the counter."
Rembrandt touched Melissa's shoulder. That made her turn to look at him again. Her eyes had watered.
"We all freeze up, Girl," Rembrandt said. "You just got to roll with it."
Melissa looked down. "Yeah." She looked up again. "Okay. Enough. We came here to research."
Rembrandt smiled. he was sure there was more going on than Randy's death. He wasn't going to push it much now. They had work to do.
Richard's father made it into the cottage fast. Richard followed quick behind . He stopped.
"Thanks for--" Richard started.
His dad swung around, backhanding Richard across the face. Richard stumbled to the left, grabbing his sore jaw. He looked at his dad.
"Ow!" Richard uttered. "What--"
"Are you not suppose to be out of town during the explosion?" Richard's dad demanded. "Did I not tell you to get a carriage to your aunt's? Is it that difficult for you to obey me for once?"
Richard rubbed his jaw. "I...guess so."
"Should I give you a moment?" Ethan asked from behind Richard.
"And you!" Richard's dad snapped, turning on Ethan. "What kind of second-in-command are you? Are you not suppose to watch his back?"
Richard frowned. Ethan his second-in-command? Uh...no way.
"I...guess so," Ethan mumbled.
"Son," Richard's dad said, "I'm not always gonna be around to save your backside." He grabbed Richard on both sides of his face. "Think!"
"Hey!" Richard yelled, pushing his dad away. "Don't tell me what to think! I'm not a kid anymore!"
His dad laughed bitterly. He put his hands on his hips. He stared at Richard coldly.
"You could make a fool out of me," his dad said. "All the lay about you been doing. Such a man. Such a revolutionary leader."
"Revolutionary leader?" Richard uttered.
"I agree," His dad said. "it does not sound right for a boy."
"Not a boy, old man," Richard said.
"Really?" His dad challenged. "Then I trust, Manchild. You can cover your ass from here on out."
Richard's dad pushed past Richard. Richard turned to see him head for the door. He paused in front of Ethan. He backhanded him, too. Then he was gone.
"Ow!" Ethan exclaimed.
"Yeah," Richard said, "That's my dad." He frowned. "Now what craziness has my double done this time?"
"Well...that's not good."
Rembrandt looked up from the book he had. A group of teens who were by a shelf, ran off. He frowned wondering what was up.
Melissa had noticed the commotion as she sat across from Rembrandt at the table. She rolled her eyes. She looked at Rembrandt.
"For one," Melissa started, "I think the only reason no one has arrested us is because they think you are my slave."
"Come again?" Rembrandt said.
"The United States...are still just a lot of colonies," Melissa said. "There was never an American Revolution. However...there was a French Revolution."
"How?" Rembrandt asked. "I don't know much history, but wasn't the American Revolution the inspiration for the French Revolution?"
"There was still inspiration all right," Melissa said, shutting her book. "Rather than do due process England just rounding up the suspected revolutionists aka our forefathers and did a public group beheading. Kept most people scared."
"But not all?"
"Nope," Melissa replied. "That's what those exploding buildings when we slid in was about."
"Oh, great. Just what we need."
"Is everything all right over here?"
Rembrandt turned around. A tall skinny man in spectacles stared at the two of them. He looked very suspicious.
"Yes, sir," Melissa said with a smile. She looked at Rembrandt. "Let us be on our way, slave."
Rembrandt shot up quickly. He waited for Melissa to lead the way. When Melissa passed by, Rembrandt followed behind her. He ignored the man completely. Meanwhile, Melissa made a quick turn to the man.
"You have a good day now," she said.
"The next world better have me as a famous star," Rembrandt whispered.
"Amen," Melissa said.
Randy woke up to his head throbbing. What in the world had happened?
Then he remembered. There had been explosions all around them. He guessed one of them took him out.
He shot up. He headed for the door. He had to find the others.
He opened the door. He gasped. In front of him was a dirtied up Quinn Mallory. His bloodshot eyes fell on Randy. Something fell out of his hair. He knew it was blood.
"Look at what you did," Quinn hissed.
Randy backed away as if he had been punched.
"No," Randy managed.
"Yes," Quinn groaned. "Did you bother to look for me? Did you even care? Or wait! You have to be with Ethan now to get a--"
"No!" Randy snapped.
"My blood is on your hands!" Quinn yelled.
Randy felt his eyes watered. Quinn paid no mind. He wiped his bloodied forehead. His eyes narrowed.
"My blood is on you," Quinn uttered.
Suddenly, he lunged at Randy.
"Ah!"
Randy shot up. He laid on a bed. His hand shot to his head...which was throbbing. Those explosions packed a punch.
He pushed his brown hair out of his eyes. So did he. That was evident on Alexandrian World...
Alexandrian World. The slide bomb. It consumed everything. Especially any clues to Quinn's whereabouts. Assuming he was a--
KNOCK! KNOCK! came from the door. Randy got up, vanishing his worries away from now. Quinn wasn't at his double's lab, giving him hope he was alive somewhere. He opened the door, his eyes widening.
"Jenna said I might find you here," Quinn Mallory said. "We have trouble."
"Don't you think we should find the others?"
Richard turned to look at Ethan. He sat next to Richard at the bar. Richard managed a smile. Then he turned back to his beer mug, taking a swig.
"Nope," Richard replied.
"What if--"
"Look, Thuggie," Richard said. "I'm not in the mood. 9 times out of 10...they at the Dominion. I can go anytime I want. Right now...don't wanta." He took a swig.
"Cuz of your Dad."
Richard spit out his beer. He glared at Ethan.
"Not everything is about my dad."
"Riiiight."
"Sarcasm...not a good thing on you."
"So...bad relations with your father?"
Richard looked down at his beer. He thought about Alexanderian World. His father on that world...had looked at him with so much pride. It was something he never saw from his real dad. He drank his beer.
"You could say that," Richard said, looking at Ethan.
Ethan looked out at the crowd in the bar. His back leaned into the counter. His eyes became a big distant.
"At least you had your parents," Ethan said.
"I wouldn't go that far."
Ethan stared at Richard. "They still living?"
Richard frowned. "How about we don't try to bond? In fact...don't you have a 'special friend' to find?"
"Randy isn't my...'special friend,'" Ethan snapped.
"My bad!" Richard exclaimed. "I would say boyfriend, but...well...Holding pattern and all that."
"Excuse me."
Richard smirked. He drank more of his beer. He could feel Ethan's confusion and anger. He didn't care.
"So you saved Egghead's life," Richard said. "Big deal. Melissa and I are done. Just a matter of time before she sniffs around him. And he will bite."
Ethan frowned. "I don't think so."
Richard laughed. He finished off his beer. Then he turned to Ethan.
"Thuggie, Thuggie, Thuggie!" Richard exclaimed, tapping Ethan on his shoulder. "How long have you been with us? Not too long right? I'm been around for years. Those two...always find their way back. To think otherwise...makes the betrayal hurt even deeper." Richard kept his hand on Ethan's shoulder. "By the way...I saved Melissa's life, too. Just no loyalty at--"
Ethan snatched his shoulder. Richard saw that the bartender had given him another mug. He grabbed it, smirking.
"Touch a nerve?" Richard asked.
"Look," Ethan said, standing up. "I'm sorry you and Melissa are on the outs. I hope it works out. Randy and I are fine. You just drinking your problems away? Loser move I think."
"Loser? Why you fa--"
"There you are!"
Ethan's eyes burned at Richard. Richard ignored him. He should mind his own business. He looked at the speaker.
It was a man. Richard's height. His shoulder-length hair was tied back by a blue bow. He wore a cotton shirt with a dark green vest along with dark breeches and light stockings. He looked from Richard to Ethan, a look of bewilderment on his face.
"I have to admit though," the man said, "I am surprised. Others said you would do a hasty retreat for deniability." He flashed a mischievous smile. "I knew better. You would want to see your handiwork."
"Handiwork?" Ethan uttered.
The man looked at Ethan. "Your looks appeared confused. Did I miss--"
"We are okay...uh..." Richard started.
"Noah," the man said.
"Yeah...Noah," Richard said. "Do you think we could talk elsewhere."
"That is exactly why I came looking for you," Noah said. "Consignor Mallory is already looking for you. We best be away."
Richard frowned. "Mallory?"
The first thing that became apparent to Randy was that Mallory walked everywhere with his hands behind his back. Getting weapons. Rallying troops. getting into a carriage. Those hands were in the back. He hated it.
"Hm. In one of your trances again?"
Randy looked across the carriage at Mallory. He stared back at him. He looked annoyed. Randy looked down, feeling his face warm.
"I apologize," Randy said.
"One never grows used to that with you," Mallory commented. "It is a good thing I rely on your other talents." He looked out the window. "I do believe we will need them. Especially after today."
"Today?" Randy uttered.
Mallory's annoyed look came back. Then he sighed.
"Of course, you were asleep," Mallory said. "There were explosions earlier." He looked out of his window. "Just when I believe we had executed all of the non-patriots, more spring up like roaches."
"That cannot be good," Randy said.
"Correct. Damn the French and their revolutions," Mallory said. He sighed. "In any case, I contacted England. We have our orders. Anyone that our spies have already established suspicions about...will be detained." He looked at Randy. "And I need you to create something for me."
"Of course," Randy said.
"His Majesty...once the traitors are found...would like a repeat of the French Occupation of 2005," Mallory said.
Randy frowned. Mallory followed suit. He managed a smile.
"Now His Majesty knows that you agreed to the tone time...there were countless lives hanging in the balance...however, His Majesty would love to make a point." Mallory leaned forward and held Randy's hand. "So it is time for your wormhole weapon again."
Randy's eyes widened. "Wormhole weapon?"
Rembrandt could punch Randy right now. When Melissa and he had left, they left a note. The last thing they wanted was Randy freaking out. Could he not do the same?
"Anything?"
Rembrandt turned around. He saw Melissa approach hi on the sidewalk. He shook his head.
"Not a thing," Rembrandt answered. "Same?"
"Yep," Melissa said.
"What was he thinking?"
"Maybe he went to find Richard and Ethan," Melissa suggested.
Rembrandt sighed in frustrated. "You would think he could think of someone, but himself for once."
"Remmy."
Melissa looked wide-eyed at him. He shook his head.
"You know what? Let's get back to the Dominion," Rembrandt said. "Looks like a round of the Wait--"
"Mrs. Clark?"
Rembrandt looked behind Melissa. Two men with triangular hats on with muskets strapped to their backs were behind her. Melissa looked at Rembrandt for a moment.
"Yes," Melissa said. "What appears to be the problem--"
"We need you to come with us please," One of the man, a tanned-skinned man, said. "The Consignor has a few questions in connection to the explosions earlier."
"Uh...sure," Melissa said, relaxing a bit. "Anything to help."
"Is this a good idea?" Rembrandt asked.
"It's just a couple of questions," Melissa said. "Besides, I have nothing to hide."
Rembrandt grinned. "Right."
"Are you sure this is safe?" Ethan asked from behind Richard.
"Of course," Noah said from in front of Richard.
They were in a warehouse. All Richard saw was towers and towers of wooden crates. The better to hide it would be.
Noah turned a corner. Richard followed suit. Noah headed for a table where three people stood by it. As Richard approached, the people turned. One of them was very familiar, but Richard could not place him. The other two men he had never seen.
The familiar one nodded. "Hall. Where's Richard Senior?"
Richard gestured to himself. "This is all me."
"For a change," muttered one of the men, a broad-shouldered blond man.
The familiar man looked at him. "Now, Sebastian..."
"What, Styles?" Sebastian challenged. "We set everything...for his father's orders like we always do...and where is the great leader?" He narrowed his eyes on Richard. "Being a manwhore somewhere."
"Hey now!" Richard yelled. "I'm here now."
"Small comfort," Sebastian said.
"If you need to compare penis size..."
"Why, you--"
"Gentlemen," the other man, an older man with spectacles and a goatee, said, "you can argue another time."
"Jonathan is correct," Ryan Styles said. "It appears Consignor Mallory--"
"Mallory?" Richard uttered.
Everyone turned to look at Richard. He waved a hand at them.
"Sorry," Richard said. "Go on."
"Yes," Ryan continued, "Mallory. It appears that the has begun rounding up suspected traitors. He claims that he is only asking questions to get to the bottom of the explosions." His face darkened. "However I have it on good authority that he has every intention of dispatching everyone he is picking up."
"We have to do something," Ethan said.
"You believe so, Bradshaw?" Jonathan said sarcastically. "Your grasp of the obvious has leaped by bounds since you became friends with Leader here."
"Geez, Basty," Richard said. "I am sensing a lot of jealousy."
"Gentlemen..." Jonathan cautioned.
"Jonathan, I am within my rights," Sebastian said, turning to Richard. "So much blood is on his hands. Do you think you can actually think of a plan that will not get us killed?"
Richard glared at Sebastian. He did have a point. He had no idea what his double planned. And the last thing he wanted was more blood on his hands, Isabel coming to mind.
"A protest."
Richard looked at Ethan. Ethan looked confident at the three men. Richard looked at them, too. Ryan frowned. Sebastian looked skeptical. Jonathan's face was a maze of confusion.
"Come on!" Ethan exclaimed. "There's gonna be something from England you don't like to--"
"Starbucks."
Richard looked over at Jonathan. Sebastian's eyes widened.
"You did not just say--" Sebastian started.
"Yes," Jonathan said. "Yes, I did."
"Starbucks?" Richard uttered. "The--"
"I have always preferred Baker's," Jonathan continued, "but it was...not allowed in the colonies." He glared. "And it is only because they get the profit from--"
"But it is--" Sebastian started.
"It's crap, Sebastian!" Jonathan snapped. "I would like real coffee."
Richard grinned. "Then you shall have it."
"And how is that possible?" Jonathan challenged.
"Ever heard of the Boston Tea Party?" Richard asked. All three men frowned. He rolled his eyes. "Never mind. Here's what we're going to do..."
Randy blinked. He looked down at the device. It was a sliver metal cylinder. He went into a trance in order to do everything just right. The last thing he needed or wanted was a repeat of Alexandrian World.
"How are things, Heim?"
Randy looked up from the table. Mallory entered the room that had been converted into a mini-lab. He smiled. Randy wondered what was behind it.
"I believe," Randy said, looking at the cylinder device, "it is ready."
"Good," Mallory said. "And we have the perfect test subjects."
Rembrandt sat against the wall. He looked around at the other people who had been gathered downstairs in a courtyard. They whispered among themselves...worried about why no one was asking any questions. Melissa approached him.
"I don't like this," Melissa said.
Rembrandt stood up. "Neither do I. No questions. A lot of people in a clearing. Why do I get the feeling we're part of a firing squad?"
"I--" Melissa started. She paused, her eyes widening. "Oh, no."
Rembrandt looked where Melissa looked. Quinn Mallory headed for the group of people. He was followed by a group of men with rifles strapped to their backs...and Randy.
"What?" Rembrandt uttered.
"Oh, no."
Randy's eyes widened. Among the group of people were Melissa and Rembrandt. She stared at him wide-eyed. Rembrandt turned to see what she was looking at. His jaw dropped.
"What?" Rembrandt uttered.
Randy did not know what to say. His stomach flip-flopped. This was the last thing any of them needed.
"What is the meaning of this, Mallory?" one of the men, a curly-haired brunette, asked. "I was called away from an important meeting. Not one of your men have asked me any questions whatsoever."
Mallory stared at him, crossing his arms over his chest.
"There is no need for questions, Owen," Mallory replied. "We have on good authority there is no need. You have been convicted of conspiring to over throw the English government. And His Majesty will respond only one way. Heim."
Randy's back stiffened. Melissa continued to look wide-eyed, her stare pleading. Rembrandt frowned. He held up his device, giving it to Mallory. Mallory grinned.
"Regardless of what you believe," Mallory said, "not everyone would like a revolution here. So...your kind is not long for this world. Farewell."
Randy's forehead moistured as he watched Mallory aim the silver metal cylinder. All it took was Mallory touching the round red button on the side. Then he...they would be no more.
Mallory touched the red button. Light shot from the cylinder. It shot past the people, hitting the wall behind them. The wall dissolved slowly.
Randy turned behind him, swinging his fist. He knocked one of Mallory's men down. He quickly snatched up his rifle. he aimed at Mallory...who glared at him.
"Whatever are you do--" Mallory started.
Suddenly, the wall exploded in blue light.
"Ah!"
Rembrandt's eyes widened as he heard the scream. He turned in time to see the man...Owen...pulled right off his feet. He shot toward the wormhole against his will. He hit it, vanishing in a flash of light.
"Remmy!"
Melissa shot up. Rembrandt grabbed her quickly. He dashed for Mallory and Randy. More screams came from behind him. He ignored him.
A commotion had started among Mallory's men. Rembrandt saw Randy was the cause. He had a rifle aimed at Mallory.
"Randy!" Rembrandt yelled.
Randy looked at Rembrandt. Before Randy could say anything, Mallory lunged at him. Suddenly, the rifle went off.
"No!" Melissa yelled.
Richard felt proud of himself. The plan was set in motion. Tomorrow...he would show his flunkies how a revolution was done. He would show his dad who was the man.
He frowned as he approached the cottage. What was he thinking? His dad had always been cold to him. Why should any of his doubles be different? No wonder he did everything in his power to get his attention.
Richard opened the door. The cottage was in darkness. He headed for a lamp.
"I wouldn't do that."
Richard frowned. He went for a light. The room came to light instantly. Ryan Styles stared back at him. Richard noticed a body on the floor. It was his dad.
"See?" Ryan said. "I told you you would not like it."
"You son of a--" Richard started.
"Language," Ryan said. "I did not do this."
"Oh?"
"YOU did this."
"Excuse me?"
"Yes...what is your excuse?"
Richard turned to the stairway. A figure slowly walked down them. He came into the light. Richard's eyes almost fell out of his head. It was his double with disheveled hair.
"Uh..." Richard started.
His double looked over at Ryan. "This him?"
Ryan nodded. "He was at the meeting. He was you."
Richard's double looked at him. "Or a spy."
"Hey," Richard said, throwing up his hands. "Not a spy."
"Really?" his double challenged. "Then what are you?"
"Something you wouldn't believe," Richard replied. "Unless you like science fiction."
"I do not."
"Me, either."
"Kill him."
"Hey now!" Richard said, inching closer to the door. "Let's not get rash."
Richard's double reached into his breeches, his hand coming back with a dagger. His eyes narrowed on Richard.
"How should I be then, Sir?" his double demanded.
"For one...sad?" Richard suggested.
"At him?" his double asked, gesturing to his dad. "Why? I was sick and tired of him looking at me like some great hope. As if I cannot have fun."
"Which is what we have planned tomorrow will be," Ryan said, standing up, "thanks to you."
Richard's back hit the door. He stared at Ryan.
"So the others?" Richard asked. "Just a big fat whatever?"
"If they want a new world," Ryan said, "let them dream. We live in this one. England is too vast an empire to think a small group can do anything."
"All it takes is one man," Richard said, his eyes falling on his double. "Your dad knew that."
"You do not know my father," his double said.
"Oh, yes, I do," Richard said.
"I think I will cut out your tongue."
"Bring it, Wuss."
Ryan lunged at Richard. Richard moved quickly, grabbing the door and swinging it open. It got Ryan right in the face. Richard grabbed the doorknob, looking at his double.
"Tootles," he said.
He slammed the door behind him. He ran away as fast as he could. Sweat ran down his face.
He realized all of it was not sweat. His eyes had watered. He frowned.
He never got to tell his dad about the protest. He never got to show him what he was capable of. Now he would never know.
Richard ran faster.
"How much time?"
Randy looked up. Melissa stared back at him. He managed a smile.
"A day," Randy said, moving on the bed.
"Good."
Randy turned. Rembrandt came out of the bathroom. He glared at him.
"Rembrandt--" Randy started.
"Don't," Rembrandt said.
"Rem--"
"We went to explore the history of his world. And we leave you to rest. Only you went and created yet another sliding bomb? What the--"
"I had no choice."
"Riiight, Hitler."
"Hey!"
"Was that your excuse in Alexanderia?"
Randy felt his mouth open. He closed it again. His eyes narrowed on Rembrandt.
"I did what had to be done," Randy said.
"I bet," Rembrandt said.
"I'm sorry...did you want more people knowing about sliding?" Randy challenged. "Maybe getting lost in the multiverse with no way home?"
Rembrandt made a grimace.
"I didn't think so," Randy said.
"There was another way," Rembrandt replied.
"Really?" Randy replied. "Do tell."
"Quinn would have found a better way," Rembrandt said.
Randy stood up. He glared. Rembrandt glared right back.
"Guys--" Melissa started.
"No, Melissa," Randy cut her off."It's obvious what's on Rembrandt's mind. It's always about Quinn."
"I don't leave my friends," Rembrandt said.
"Would you like to go back? Overheat this timer?"
"Sure why not?" Rembrandt said. "How about you? Afraid to see the blood on your hands?"
"Rembrandt!" Melissa cried.
"He killed people, Melissa!" Rembrandt snapped, his eyes on Randy. "There...and here. Or are you going to say that display today was a trip to a peaceful world?"
Randy said nothing. He could not. He knew the truth. He was sure it was all over his face. He looked away from Rembrandt.
His eyes fell on Melissa. Her eyes watered. He took a step toward her. She backed away.
"Oh my God," Melissa uttered.
"Melissa--" Randy started.
"He's right, isn't he?" Melissa asked, cutting Randy off. She turned away. "Oh my God."
"Melissa--" Randy started, approaching her.
Rembrandt blocked his way. Randy felt his hand ball into a fist.
"Get out of my way, Rembrandt," Randy demanded.
"No," Rembrandt said. "You want compassion? Find Quinn."
"Don't you think if Quinn was...there wasn't a body."
"Doesn't mean he's alive."
"Doesn't mean he's dead, either," Randy shot back. "How quick you give up on your friend."
"You son of--"
The door opened. Everyone turned. Randy sighed in relief. Ethan was there with a bellhop.
"There you are!" Ethan exclaimed as the bellhop closed the door. "I was worried after the explosions. Richard's fine and--" Ethan took in the room. "What happened? Melissa--"
Melissa shot past Rembrandt. She made it to the bathroom before Randy could stop her. She slammed the door.
"Okay...what was that?" Ethan asked.
Rembrandt headed for the door to their room. He paused next to Ethan. He gestured to Randy.
"Ask your boyfriend," Rembrandt said.
Then he stormed out of the room. Randy stared after him for a moment. Ethan headed for him.
"What--" Ethan started.
"Melissa!" Randy said, heading to the bathroom door. "Melissa?"
Rembrandt resisted the urge to punch the wall. What he wanted to punch was Randy.
"Rembrandt!"
Rembrandt turned on the stairs. Ethan headed toward him. He turned away.
"Rembrandt."
"I don't want to hear it, Ethan," Rembrandt said.
"Hear it?"
"Randy is right. Randy knows everything," Rembrandt said. "He knows jack! He doesn't know what he's doing! He doesn't know where Quinn is! He doesn't even know how to get us--"
Rembrandt stopped. His eyes watered. He sat on the stairs, his hands balled into fists. He fought the urge to cry. He also wanted to say it. Home.
A hand touched Rembrandt's shoulder. He jumped. Then he relaxed. Ethan stared at him.
"Randy's upstairs trying to talk Melissa out of the bathroom," Ethan said. "Barely noticed me. So...not praising him...at the moment."
Rembrandt kicked himself mentally. It wasn't Ethan's fault he was frustrated. That was Randy.
"Sorry, man," Rembrandt said. "I'm just worried about my friend."
Ethan managed a smile. "It's okay. Richard warned me."
"So...he's okay?" Rembrandt asked.
"He was when I left,"Ethan said. "His double's a revolutionary leader here. He got a plan to protest the government."
Rembrandt laughed. "That never ends well."
"True that."
Rembrandt looked down the stairs. Richard headed for them. He looked sweaty.
"We got trouble," Richard said.
"Mine if I take that?"
The guard turned around. Before the guard could react, he got punched in the face. He fell to the floor. Richard rubbed his fist.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Nope," Richard replied, not even looking behind him at Ethan. "But I can't let my double wreck this." He looked at Ethan. "Get me, Thuggie?"
Ethan stood beside him. His face darkened.
"I got you," Ethan said. "You were right about Randy and Melissa."
"Oh?"
"He ran to her," Ethan said.
Richard said nothing. He did feel the knife twisting in his gut though. It wasn't that long ago that Melissa and he were together. She already looked like she was moving on.
"Guess he bit after all," Ethan said.
"Fine," Richard said. "Let's get this shipment to the others."
"What about your double?" Ethan asked.
Richard frowned. "Leave him to me."
Randy waited. He could not believe that he was going along with Richard's plan. They were much too deep into this world's affairs already. Still...from what Richard told him it was the right thing to do. Especially after Mallory had him create that device...
Mallory. Dead Mallory. Randy frowned. As if Rembrandt wasn't angry enough at him, then that happened. Now all Rembrandt wanted was to find Quinn.
If they had only had more time to be sure Quinn wasn't on Alexandrian World...
Randy heard it. A moment later, he saw the carriage. According to Richard's contacts, it was one of the Starbucks shipments.
Randy pulled out one of his small daggers. He managed a smirk. Time to go to work.
Rembrandt led the carriage around a corner. It had been easy to capture. Melissa made a good distraction.
"I think we're almost there," Melissa commented.
"Good," Rembrandt said. "Let's hope things go smoothly."
"What are the odds?"
"Good point. Especially with Genius in the mix."
"Don't start, Rem."
"Did you see him last night? Acting like his hands were clean."
"I'm sure he knows that."
"So," Rembrandt said, looking at Melissa, "defending him again?"
Melissa's face darkened. "Far from it."She looked away. "But it's his demons to deal with. How about you let him?"
Rembrandt got the carriage to turn another corner. He saw the bay ahead of him. He also saw other carriages. He looked at Melissa finally.
"I'll let up," Rembrandt said, "when he finds Quinn."
"Remmy!" Melissa cried.
"Now," Rembrandt said, looking forward, "you be on my side or not...I don't care. He's not getting off the hook. especially after what I saw yesterday. Not again."
Rembrandt's carriage got closer to some of the other carriages, he could make out people. He saw Randy leading one. He glared.
Never again.
Richard smiled. The wind blew his brown hair into his face. He pushed his ponytail back. He saw Rembrandt bring in the last shipment. He had run into Jonathan and Sebastian and told them to start loading it onto the ship. Then they would sail out, dumping it out into the bay. In fact, he should leave his carriage and head to...
The carriage door flew open. richard had expected it so he did not flinch. His double smirked at him
"Fancy metting you here," Richard's double said.
Richard smirked back. "Or not."
"Oh?"
"Did you really think I wouldn't see my plan to the end? I am you."
"A spy in fact," Richard's double said.
"You wish," Richard replied.
"You only wish I felt differently," Richard's double said. "Which is why I told my boys."
A scream shot through the bay. Richard turned, looking out the window. Men in what could pass for policement suits rode by on horses. They fired on the ship with the shipment. Richard turned back to his double. The double smirked at him.
"You sold your own men out?" Richard uttered.
"Not what it looks like," Richard's double said. "I sold out your plan...not my men. Look again."
Richard frowned at his double. He looked again though. He made out other horses, shooting really fast after the policemen. He saw Ryan. He shot up behind a policeman, swinging a club into his head. The policeman fell to the ground. Richard looked at his double.
"You know the problem with your idea?" the double asked. "Not very...spectacular. Look at the Frenchs. They wanted changed in their society. They made a grand show of that by storming the Versailles and beheading people." He grinned. "Why not do the same?"
"I don't--"
Richard's double pulled out a pistol. "I do not care about what you think. What I do care about is that...I win."
"Hey!"
Richard's double looked at the door. Richard leaned forward quickly, swinging out his leg. He knocked his doubler in the face. His double fell back unconcsious. Richard looked at the carriage door.
"Thanks, Th--" Richard started.
"Don't call me Thuggie," Ethan said.
Randy crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes stared at the scene in front of him. Les Miz came to mind.
Richard's men were in the square. A crowd of people had gathered around it to watch. Richard's men had the policemen tied up and sitting by a gullotine. The crowd yelled for blood.
"Good Lord."
Randy looked beside him. Richard was next to him. He also had his arms over his chest.
"I can't believe this is happening," Richard commented.
"What did you expect?"
Randy turned around. Rembrandt, Ethan, and Melissa headed for them. Rembrandt glared at him.
"When we interfere everyone suffers," Rembrandt said.
"How Darnell of you," Randy said.
Rembrandt's face grew darker. Randy didn't care. He was done being pushed around.
"Hey," Ethan said. "We don't have much time. I say we lie low. I'm sure Richard's double will be lookng for payback."
"I agree," Melissa said.
"What a shock," Richard said sarcastically.
Melissa frowned. Suddenly, a whirl cut through the air. Randy turned to see a head roll away from the guillotine. The crowd cheered.
"Gross," Melissa said.
"Just more of the consequences of your action," Rembrandt said.
"Rembrandt!" Melissa snapped.
"Enough, Rembrandt," Randy said.
"Not nearly," Rembrandt said.
Randy faced Rembrandt. He walked over to him. His eyes focused on him.
"Oh, yes...it is," Randy said. "No more. No more pushing. No more remarks. No more nagging. I wish try my best to find Quinn. That's the best I can do."
Rembrandt continued to glare. "Not good enough."
Randy glared right back. "Then you do better."
There was silence. Another whirl cut through the air. It was followed by the crowd cheering.
A hand touched Randy's shoulder. Randy knew it was Ethan. He continued to look at Rembrandt.
"Walk it off, Randy," Ethan said.
Rembrandt refused to look away either. Melissa appeared over his shoulder. She looked at Rembrandt.
"Come on, Rem," Melissa said. "This is just too much."
"Agreed," Rembrandt said.
Rembrandt stormed away. Randy looked after him. He turned to look at Melissa. She shook her head, her eyes full of disappointment.
"I don't even know who you are anymore," she said. Then she stormed away, too.
Randy looked at Ethan. He squeezed Randy's shoulder. Then he walked away.
"Wow," Richard said, walking up to Randy. "And I thought I hated you. Got nothing on Brownie."
The whirl sounded through the air again. The crowd cheered. Randy looked back at the crowd, his mind pondering.
"So...how much time again?" Richard asked.
THE-END
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