Newsgroups: alt.tv.sliders,alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: [STORY] X-Files Meets Sliders, part 0/? Message-ID: <1995May8.131157.11000@roper.uwyo.edu> From: jboe@efn.org (James Boe) +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ | MY DISCLAIMER (HOPE IT IS GOOD ENOUGH) | +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ | Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, FOX Broadcasting, | | yadda-yadda-yadda-yadda. As for Sliders, same thing, different | | names; only reason I know the stuff from X-Files is from the | | disclaimers I have read on the X-Files fan-fiction stories I have | | read. | | | | What I am getting at here is that I have no intention of usurping | | the fruits of other folks' creative genius; I just wish to "borrow" | | from them. Please forgive me, particularly if it does not live up | | up to the high standards of the original. If those folks, the ones | | who originally conjured up X-Files and Sliders, find anything with- | | in these stories which they wish to adapt to their shows, please do | | so. My only modest requirements would perhaps be a modest payment | | and my name somewhere in the credits. | | | | As to the continuity of the X-Files characters, I must state that | | I have only seen a couple of episodes of the show as my work sched- | | ule does not permit. So what I portray of them is garnered from | | that and the fan-fiction and it may seem skimpy for that reason. | | | | I assume that both Sliders and X-Files are set in the same world; | | by that, I mean that the Sliders started out from the world where | | X-Files is set. I intend to writing two crossovers, one with | | Mulder and Scully dealing with counterpart Sliders and the other | | with the Sliders having to deal with counterparts of Mulder and | | Scully. The name of the 'main' show will be first. I will post | | parts of these stories to alt.tv.x-files.creative and alt.tv. | | sliders. Since that second group is not widely carried, if I choose | | to write further Sliders stories, I will probably post them to | | alt.parallel.universes and alt.history.what-if with appropriate | | headers. | | | | Since I am not that conversant with the layout of San Francisco, | | I will be making up areas and neighborhoods in which to set the | | story. To any natives and inhabitants of that fair city, I make | | apology for any offense this may give. | +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ Introduction 1. San Francisco Pierpont Associates Credit Union 2:24 PM March 11 Sally sighed heavily as she glanced up at the clock on the wall. She could appreciate staying open until five on those days when people were trying to get their paychecks cashed or deposited to cover groceries and rent and such. But on these slow "off" days, time crawled by. She glanced up at the clock again. She did not dare try to use the phone to call Nick. Management had just recently cracked down on such frivolities as tying up the phones with personal calls. She looked up to see three young men come through the doors. Each went to a separate module. Sally smiled wryly as she mused on the almost obsessive need some people seemed to have for privacy. Then another young man came through the door. As he stood there near the doorway looking around, the other three looked at him and each other. Sally was struck by the resemblance that all four bore to each other. Each of the four men pulled out a handgun. The man at the door said, "This is a holdup. This is a holdup. If everyone here will co-operate, nobody will be injured. If anyone attempts to sound an alarm or interfere in any way, they will be killed." The three men at the modules each went to a different teller station. They each extracted a cloth bag from within their coats. As Sally pulled bills from the slots in her drawer, she stole surreptitious glances to both her right and left. All three of the men gathering money were absolutely identical as far as she could tell. She couldn't be sure without a closer look but she was pretty sure that the man at the door was also the same. Carl, one of the guards, walked around the corner from the men's room. He stared at the tableau in the lobby and froze. For a moment, all four of the robbers and Carl exchanged glances. Then Carl grabbed for his revolver. The man at the door and the man at the teller station closest to Carl both fired simultaneously. As Carl crashed backwards into the wall with blood staining the front of his uniform, one of the younger tellers started screaming. The man at her station turned toward her and pointed his weapon directly at her. Madge, the head teller, went over to the station and started pulling bills out of the drawer and pushing them into the bag. The rest of the tellers resumed putting money in the bags. One by one, as each of the bags was filled, the man holding it went over to the door to wait. Finally the last one walked over and stood by the door. All four men stood there for a moment and then they strode out the door, two turning to the right and two to the left. Introduction 2. San Francisco Lower Fargo Heights 4:33 AM March 23 Jack Carstairs sneezed and stirred uneasily in the cab of his Gray Gobbler. Usually, he could manage a quick forty winks here and there on his route, but this damned cold seemed determined to make his life hell. He fished out his bandanna and blew his nose noisily. He toyed with the notion of taking a snort from the bottle of Jim Beam he had stashed under the seat but decided against it. His wife had made a point of showing him the warning on the label of the cold medication bottle. Kricnzwki was just looking for an excuse to fire him so he could bring in his wife's nephew. The last thing he needed at this point was to wreck the truck in this neighborhood. Suddenly halfway down the street the air seemed to shimmer. A screaming black man erupted from nowhere. As he rolled on the pavement, he was followed by a young woman, then a young man, and an older man with a close cropped beard. Carstairs wiped his eyes, opened the door, and stepped down out of the garbage truck. "Hey! Where did you people come from?" He looked at each of the strangers in astonishment. =========================================================================== Newsgroups: alt.tv.sliders,alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: [STORY] X-Files Meets Sliders, part 0.5 From: jboe@efn.org (James Boe) Date: 12 May 95 11:05:48 MDT Chapter 0.5 San Francisco Cup O' Joe Coffee Shop in Lower Fargo Heights 7:10 AM March 23 The group of four sat in a window booth, each enjoying what he or she considered suitable morning fare. Rembrandt chuckled. "Man, oh man, that garbage guy was sure surprised." Quinn and Wade both grinned. Professor Arturo spoke up, "Yes, but what will happen should he tell his story to his superiors or the police?" "I don't think that that should be much of a problem." Quinn interjected, "He looked to be about half out of it. I didn't smell any alcohol on him, but I would wager that he probably has in the past." He shook his head. "Chances are, if he actually does tell anyone, they aren't going to believe him." Wade smiled. "So, we are here for how long again?" Quinn pulled out a device that resembled an oversized TV remote controller. "Hmmm. According to this, we will be here for about another 27 days." Rembrandt shook his head. "Well, I hope that we can keep out of trouble for that long." Wade looked out of the window to observe the early morning traffic. Suddenly a man coming out of a shop across the street caught her eye. He was unfolding an American flag. "Hey, guys" she said, "Look at that." She pointed at the shopkeeper who was now placing the flag in a pole-holder mounted on the wall. Rembrandt said, "Wait a minute. There is only" he counted to himself, "fifty stars." "Hmm. Well, now we know what this world's major divergence is from our own." Professor Arturo observed. "It would seem here that Texas did not split into five states during the oil embargo back in the early 70's." The group looked for a moment, then Quinn spoke. "Well, we best get moving. It is some distance to my house from here. That is," he looked a little anxious, "if I have a counterpart in this world." "Fear not, my young friend" Arturo said, "we have come across some radically different worlds from this one and you have counterparts in most of them. Besides, we could always check a phone directory to make sure." The four each slid out of the booth. As they started to check their pockets for money, Rembrandt piped up, "Hey, guys, I'll get this one." He fished out some bills. After shuffling through them, he extracted a twenty and left it on the table. "Might as well leave the waitress a good tip" he smiled. As the four exited, the waitress walked over to the booth and started gathering up the dishes into a stack. She picked up the bill from the table and started to tuck it into her pocket. Then she smoothed it out and looked at it in the light. "Hey, Franklin!" she called out. The balding, overweight manager stuck his head out from the kitchen. "What is it, Mandy? I'm busy back here." "Come take a look at this." Franklin waddled around the counter and over to beside the waitress. She handed him the bill. He looked at it for a moment. Then he extracted some eyeglasses from his pocket, shook them open, and perched them on his nose. He tilted his head back and held the bill close. Then he gazed at Mandy who just stared back at him curiously. "Okay. You finish cleaning this up. I'll call the Feds." As he moved back toward the kitchen, he shook his head slowly. "Huh. You figure that if someone was going to pass funny money, you think that they would at least get the president right." San Francisco Quinn's neighborhood 8:06 AM As the four got out of the taxi, Rembrandt said to the driver, "Pavel, man, don't you _ever_ get tired of driving cabs?" The driver, an older man with a graying beard, just looked confused. Rembrandt handed him some bills and said, "Well, take it easy." The four turned to face the house before them. "Well, come on." Quinn said, "We might as well go check it out." They walked through a gate which squeaked as each one passed through it. Quinn tried the door which was locked. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a key. He looked at the others for a moment. Then he put the key in the lock and turned it. He turned to the others and smiled. Then he opened the door. As he entered the house, he called out, "Mom! Anybody home?" He walked through the house as the others entered the house. "Quinn!" Wade called out. "What?" he said as he joined her in the kitchen. She held up a note. Quinn took it and read it slowly. "It says here that she has gone to visit her sister, Nancy." he told the group. "I should call her if I should return. Apparently I have been missing for some time here." He looked at Professor Arturo excitedly. "It's possible that the reason is because I slid." He rushed to the basement door with the others following. He opened the door, switched on the light, and started down the stairs. "Yes! Yes! It's here!" As the others walked down the stairs, Rembrandt surveyed the machinery and the chalkboard covered with equations. "So this is the thing." He looked around as he stepped down the stairs slowly. "This is the whatsit that grabbed me and my Caddy and dumped me on that ice-cube world with you all." Suddenly he moved over and kicked one of the pylons. "Hey!" Quinn said. "What do you think you're doing? This is a very sensitive apparatus." He glared at Rembrandt. "Sorry, man. I just had to take it out on something." "Well, next time punch the wall or something." Quinn looked at the machinery. "This may be the device that accidentally took you when we" he gestured at Arturo and Wade, "started sliding. But it is also the device that is going to get us home." "So what exactly is you have to do?" Wade looked at Quinn expectantly. "Well, we have to reconfigure the timer to this machine." Quinn said. "That is going to involve ..." Arturo interrupted him with a repeated chopping motion of his hand as he looked to be in thought. "Just a minute, Mr. Mallory." He put his finger to his lips as he continued to think. "While I am not familiar with the intimate details of your sliding machine, I do know this." He looked at Quinn intensely. "We have to approach this very carefully. You see, your timer is attuned to our quantum frequency." Quinn looked puzzled. Arturo seemed exasperated. "Look. It's really quite simple. Each separate plane has its own quantum frequency. That's part of what distinguishes one from another. Each time something happens that causes a separation, two universes diverge. Each has its own separate quantum frequency." Arturo reached over and slowly took the timer from Quinn's hand. "Right now, this is attuned to the quantum frequency of the universe from where we started." He placed his hand on one of the pylons. "This is attuned to this universe. If we simply recalibrate this timer to this machine, then we will always return to this world." Quinn looked thoughtful for a moment, then brightened. "I get it! All we have to do is put on a separate circuit that will retain the original frequency while being able to tune to this frequency." He paced back and forth. "I'm not sure, perhaps we could piggyback a separate board and put into a switch that shifts from one to the other." Rembrandt stared at Quinn, then looked over to Wade. "You following any of this?" She glanced at him and shook her head. "Hey, cue-ball." Quinn looked at Rembrandt. "Break it down for me. We going home or what?" Quinn smiled brightly. "We're going home." Rembrandt smiled. "Well, then let's get to it." San Francisco Quinn's neighborhood 11:15 AM March 27 Quinn and Arturo got out of the taxi. The driver got out and walked around and opened the trunk. He helped Quinn and Arturo unload the two boxes of equipment and two sacks of groceries. Arturo paid the driver and picked up the sacks. He and Quinn pushed through the gate and entered the house. Across the street a black man wearing dark glasses watched. He looked at his partner and nodded. The younger white man picked up a microphone and spoke into it. Inside the house Arturo place the sacks on the kitchen table while Quinn carried the boxes into the basement. Wade followed Quinn. As he opened one of the boxes, she looked at him, slightly concerned. "Quinn." He paused for a moment and looked up at her. "Are we going to have enough time to get this done? I mean," she gestured with her hands, "this is pretty complicated stuff here and it's kind of strange that all your notes, or your counterpart's notes, are gone. What do you suppose happened to them?" Quinn looked thoughtful. Then he straightened up. "I suppose he put them some place safe. He was probably a little more thoughtful than I was. It's a good thing that most of it" he tapped his head with his finger, "is up here." He flashed her a smile. "Come on. Let's go eat." As they entered the kitchen, the front door crashed open. A black man and a white man wearing suits and dark glasses pointed pistols at them. "Freeze! F.B.I.!" The black man reached in and pulled out his ID with his left hand. More agents wearing the dark outfits with the large letters 'F.B.I.' poured in the house. "Special agent Warner" said the black man. As the agents handcuffed each of the four, Arturo spoke. "Excuse me, sir. Would you mind telling us what the charges are?" "Counterfeiting." As each of the four exchanged glances, a nervous chill settled on them. =========================================================================== Newsgroups: alt.tv.sliders,alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: [STORY] X-Files Meets Sliders From: jboe@efn.org (James Boe) Date: 8 May 95 14:34:44 MDT Author's note: I am taking some pains to "introduce" the Sliders here, for the benefit of any readers who might not have seen the show. Chapter 1. Washington D.C. F.B.I. Headquarters Basement, X-Files Office 9:15 AM April 2 Scully was scanning the latest file Skinner had given her when Mulder came in. As she looked up, he hung up his coat and turned toward her with a wicked smile. "Don't tell me, let me guess." she said, "You have been giving away spiked Girl Scout cookies again." "Now, now, Scully" Mulder kept his evil smile, "give me credit for having some creativity". "Well, try applying it to this." Scully handed the report to Mulder. "It seems that someone has come up with a way to crank crooks off the assembly line." Mulder scanned the file. There had been five robberies at various banks and financial institutions throughout California since January. Furthermore, all the robberies had been committed by groups of four or five individuals who were identical in physical appearance. Each robbery had been committed by different groups; besides the similarity of the members of each group, the only other common feature had been that the groups had been comprised of fairly young people. Just then, the phone rang. Dana answered it, "Scully." She listened for a moment. "Yes, sir, right away." She hung up the phone and looked at Mulder. "Skinner" they both said. San Francisco Federal Detention Center 11:00 AM Eastern Daylight Time Rembrandt paced nervously. "Man, we have sure landed in it this time." He stopped and glared at a young man with dark hair. "And it's all your fault. If you hadn't .. if you only.. Man, we sure landed in it this time." Wade chimed in, "Rembrandt, this is not Quinn's fault. He can't control what circumstances we will find." The black man turned toward the young lady with the sandy hair. "I know that. But I gotta blame someone. It helps take my mind off the mess we're in." Quinn said, "It's okay. I have been blaming myself ever since we first slid. I should have taken more time to make sure that the mechanism had a backup method for returning besides the timer." He stood up and walked across the room. "If only.." An older, more heavy-set man with a close-cropped beard walked over and placed his hand on Quinn's shoulder. "It's no use blaming yourself with 'if only' or 'I should have'. What we need now is to concentrate on how we can account our presence in this world. I'm not sure that the truth, in this case, is all that believable." Wade said, "Well, there is not that much we can do right now. We are here. If we do have counterparts in this world, then that makes the truth that much more believable." She turned and smiled thinly at the three men. "It's not like we have not committed any crime." Professor Arturo looked at her. "We might not be guilty of any crime, my dear. But perhaps we do have counterparts in this world and they may be criminals. Remember that time that Mr. Mallory and myself were renowned in that world where brains were as valued as physical prowess? Both of our 'alter-egos', if you will, turned out to possess less than sterling morals. To the point, they faked having developed a sliding machine and disappeared, Mr. Mallory to skip out on his gambling debts and my counterpart to avoid divorce proceedings." With that, the four kept silence, each in his/her thoughts. Flight 308 to San Francisco 2:05 PM Mulder frowned as he scanned over the report Skinner had given him and Scully. "What's the matter, Mulder?" Scully gibed, "Batteries give out on your creativity?" Mulder looked over at Scully. "I'm not sure that these two cases are necessarily related." He picked up the report on the bank robberies. "Here we have a series of crimes committed by various groups of identical individuals, possibly clones." He waved the report which he had been reading. "Here we have a group of individuals who are quite arguably clones of other folks. But," he shifted in his seat to face Scully more directly, "there is nothing to indicate that any of these people have had anything to do with robbing banks." Scully sighed. Why did he have to do this, she thought. The man simply would not acknowledge the obvious unless it had to with UFOs or other supernatural phenomena. "Look, Mulder..." Mulder looked at her. "There is just something about this that doesn't feel right. Look, each of the groups that committed the robberies was made up of young people, men or women in their early twenties. But, this", he waved the report at her, "mentions a group of four different individuals, two who are older, Rembrandt Jones, the 'Crying Man' from that Motown group in the sixties, and Professor Maximillian Arturo." Scully stared at Mulder. "But, Mulder, all four have been reported missing. It is quite possible that if someone is somehow making clones, they would need someone to use as templates, 'molds' from which to make copies." "Perhaps. Perhaps." Mulder leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. This was going to prove to be a most intriguing case. =========================================================================== Subject: Message-ID: <1995May17.001004.11232@roper.uwyo.edu> From: jboe@efn.org (James Boe) Date: 17 May 95 00:10:04 MDT Chapter 2. San Francisco Federal Detention Center 2:03 PM Eastern Daylight Time April 2 Each of the four looked at the door as it opened. In walked special agent Warner who arrested them on charges of counterfeiting six days ago. He looked slowly at each of the four. Finally he broke the silence. "So, you are going to stick your story of being from another earth?" Disbelief and scorn were quite evident in his tone. "If this were the case, why didn't you just come right out and state it at first?" Maximillian Arturo, the oldest of the four, arose and walked over to stand in front of Warner. "I must admit, in retrospect, that we should have done so." He looked around at Rembrandt, Wade, and Quinn, then turned back to the F.B.I. agent before him. "We were afraid, at first, that we would not believed. But, we are telling the truth. We are from..." Warner cut him off with a wave. "That's okay, Professor. It seems that you might be telling the truth. I have brought an acquaintance of yours." He walked over to the door and knocked on it twice. After the panel on the door slid open and then shut, the door opened. In walked a young man with long hair, glasses, and a goofy smile. "Hey, dudes! What's shakin'?" "Conrad!" both Quinn and Wade chorused. Arturo heaved a sigh while Rembrandt looked slightly confused. "The one and only." He embraced both Quinn and Wade and then looked over at Arturo. "Hey, Professor! How's it goin'?" Arturo just shook his head slowly in exasperation. Conrad then looked over at Rembrandt. "Hey! Aren't you that guy from the Spinnin' Tops?" He snapped his fingers while trying to remember. "The Smilin' Man?" "Cryin' Man." Rembrandt didn't seem too pleased to be making Conrad's acquaintance. "And you are?" "Conrad Bennish, boy genius at your service, man." Conrad thrust out his hand. Rembrandt took it gingerly and shook it. Conrad looked back at Quinn, still smiling. "So, you really did it! You really built an Einstein-Rosen bridge mechanism!" "Uh, yeah. But I'm not who you think I am." Quinn fumbled. "I'm not Quinn. That is, I'm not your Quinn." "Wow!!" Conrad looked awestruck, then resumed his silly smile. "Does that mean there is another me? Man," he shook his head slowly, "this stuff is too much!" He paused for a moment, then the smile vanished. "Hey, man! The government found your stuff when your mom reported you missing! I think.." Conrad's thought was interrupted by the door opening. Another man in suit and tie walked in. He seemed to have been chiseled from marble. Although he smiled, one could tell that this individual had no smiles in him. Warner turned toward the group. "Professor Arturo, Quinn Mallory, Wade Wells, Rembrandt Jones" he gestured to each in turn. Then he gestured to the newcomer. "Agent Neeley" He paused for a few seconds, "of the National Security Administration." Denver Denver International Airport 3:41 PM As Scully and Mulder walked through the fairly new airport, they each looked around in mild curiosity. It was interesting to view the first major airport built in almost twenty years. The security features were of particular interest to both the federal agents. "Dana Scully. Paging Ms. Dana Scully. Please pick up the nearest white courtesy phone." Mulder looked at his partner in mild amusement. "Your mother must be fairly well-connected to have tracked you here." he gibed. Scully made a face at her partner. "Probably Skinner." Mulder nodded. "Well, I am going to get a bite to eat over there." He nodded at a cafeteria. "Say 'hi' for me." Mulder looked up from his cheeseburger as Scully sat down across him. She looked at him in mild exasperation. He continued his look by way of query. "It seems that the four people we are on our way to interview have nothing to do with our case. Something about them being from an alternate dimension or something." She glared at Mulder's cheeseburger and fries. She had never approved of his dietary habits and when she was irritated, that dislike flared into outbursts. But she made no comment. "We should just turn around and go back. The NSA is taking charge of them." Mulder looked thoughtful, then took another bite. He chewed for a moment. "I think that we should continue on to San Francisco." He gave Scully a glance that silenced her. "After all, it is entirely possible that those four may hold a key to these robberies." He gulped a large mouthful of fries. "I'm sure that the NSA won't begrudge us asking a few questions." Scully's expression showed her opinion of his statement. He simply stared back at her. "Well, then I hope that you brought a good book." she finally said. "The connecting flight doesn't leave until 7:05 tonight." Mulder started to take another bite of his cheeseburger, then stopped. "Hmmm. Is there one in the morning? Not much point in being in a hurry now." Pacifica Pacifica First Federal Savings and Loan 2:59 PM As Gerald Wheeler, assistant manager, approached the front doors to lock them, he paused for a moment to locate the right key on his ring. As he looked up, four young women walked in. He started to say that the building was closed but was silenced by the sight of all four drawing pistols. As he raised his hands, he glanced from the weapons to the women's faces; he was startled to notice that all four women were absolutely identical. "This is a robbery." one of the women said. "If everyone will co-operate and make no effort to interfere or impede us, no one will be harmed. However, we will not hesitate to use deadly force, if necessary." The speaker gestured with her pistol to Wheeler. He stepped off to the right. Three of the young women started forward to the teller windows. At that moment, an elderly man pushed through the front door. As all four of the would-be robbers turned toward him, the two security guards drew their weapons and fired at the three women in the middle of the lobby. The two who were hit fell to the floor, one writhing and screaming in pain. The woman near the door fired at the guard on the left. As he was hit and fell back against the wall, the guard on the right fired at the woman at the door. The remaining woman turned and fired at the guard, hitting him in the head and killing him. For a moment, everyone left standing was frozen by the moment of violence. The only sound was that of the wounded woman, screaming on the floor as she clutched her bleeding stomach. Then the remaining armed woman gestured to Wheeler and then to her wounded compatriot. He moved over and knelt beside her. He slowly helped her to her feet. He looked at the armed woman who gestured at him with her pistol. He placed the wounded woman's right arm across his shoulders. He held her right wrist with his right hand and grasped her left forearm. He helped her slowly walk out the front door. The armed woman backed out behind them. Outside the building, Wheeler looked questioningly at the armed woman. An alarm started sound from inside the building. A station wagon screeched up in front of the building. The armed woman opened one of the back doors and gestured at Wheeler with her pistol. He helped the wounded woman into the station wagon, then straightened up and stared as the armed woman jumped into the front seat and the car roared off. San Francisco An undisclosed location 4:15 PM "Now, Mr. Mallory, I'm sure that you can appreciate the government's concern." Neeley looked as imperturbable as he had been since bringing them to this office, blindfolded, an hour and a half ago. "This" he tapped the bundle of Quinn's counterpart's notes, "represents a scientific breakthrough that could compromise the security of the United States government. It is only natural that we should seek to comprehend it in order to be able to protect ourselves from any threat that should stem from it." He bent close to Quinn's face while Quinn attempted to maintain a straight-ahead stance avoiding eye-contact. "Think about it. What if the Nazi government that," he picked up a page and scanned it, "according to Ms. Wells, you encountered on your second slide," he glanced at Quinn for a moment, then resumed scanning the page, "which won the second World War should develop this technology and decide to use it to conquer other earths?" He lowered the page and stared at Quinn who simply stared straight ahead. "I can wait all day if necessary." "Man, why don't you guys just co-operate? I mean, this is the government we are talking about here!" Conrad paced back and forth. "The government is only as reliable as the men and women who comprise it, Mr. Bennish." Professor Arturo arose and tugged at the hem of his jacket. "You see, we discovered a great deal about ourselves and the things we take for granted from some of the alternate earths we encountered." He turned and fixed Conrad with a stern gaze. After a minute, Conrad lowered his gaze and sat down. "We slid to a world where there was no atom bomb." "Wow! No bomb?! You mean, they had never discovered.." Conrad's voice trailed off as Arturo glared him to silence. "No. It seems that Einstein, Oppenheimer, and all the rest of the people who had had a hand in developing the bomb in our world, well, our worlds" Arturo gestured with both hands, "developed a conspiracy of silence. They decided that the atomic bomb was too great a destructive force to be trusted to the fragile consciences of mortal men and women. So, they put forth the claim that the amount of fissionable material required to make up a critical mass was far greater than what was present in the world." Arturo seemed lost in thought, then came to himself. "When we slid to that world, it was menaced by a rather large asteroid that was hurtling toward it on a collision course. It would have been rather simple to have reviewed the initial findings from the original researchers and corrected their deli- berate fallacies. But, that world paid in blood for the high moral stand of those few who made that decision. You see, without the atomic bomb to drop on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the United States had to invade the Japanese homeland. That invasion cost the lives of almost 200,000 U.S. servicemen and over one million Japanese, military and civilians." Arturo paused, lost in the tragic memory of a world that was still attempting to rebuild fifty years after the war. The silence stretched on for a minute, then two, then three. Wade stood up. "Fortunately, Quinn, the professor, and your counter- part were able to make use of that earth's laser technology. They converted a laser that had been built for astronomical purposes so that it could be used to slice the asteroid into several smaller parts. Then the government launched a high-yield warhead missile that dispersed the parts and they burnt up when entering the atmosphere. Any that were still too big were zapped by the laser." "Whoa. Cool." Conrad smiled his goofy smile. "No, Mr. Bennish. Not cool." Arturo shook with ill-repressed rage. "It seems that, when we left, your counterpart was being placed in charge of developing a Buck Rogers program. They were going to build more lasers and place orbiting mirrors that could redirect the beams to any location on the globe." He looked over at Wade and then Rembrandt. "I found this out only seconds before we slid. I only hope that Mr. Mallory has the strength of his convictions and does not co-operate. I am sure that he has no wish to aid in making his invention into any sort of military device." "Surely there is no way that it can be used for that." Wade looked worried. "Perhaps not." Arturo seemed troubled. "But if there is one thing I have learned, from my experiences both before and during our slides, it is this," he looked at the young woman and then glared at Conrad, "human beings have an unerring knack for making almost anything into a weapon." Author's note: Again, to those X-fans who have little or no interest in the Sliders as such, my apologies. I hope to put more of the spotlight on Scully and Mulder in later parts. =========================================================================== Newsgroups: alt.tv.sliders,alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: X-Files Meets Sliders, part 3 (NEW!) From: jboe@efn.org (James Boe) Date: 3 Jun 95 00:26:38 MDT Author's note: I fully intend to continue with this, and quite possibly other Sliders stories. Heck, if Weiss and Fox cancel the show, then I can sort of homestead it. Quite honestly, they are fools to just drop a perfectly show like this after only seven or eight episodes. Chapter 3. San Francisco F.B.I. Headquarters 12:17 PM April 3 "You may see the section chief now." the secretary said to Mulder and Scully. Fox and Dana exchanged glances and then arose from their seats. They filed into the office. They looked at the man who was seated behind the massive desk, poring over several documents. He gestured at the chairs in front of his desk without looking up. "Have a seat. Be with you in a minute." Fox and Dana exchanged glances again and then slowly moved in and sat down. The balding man continued to look at each page in turn. After a few minutes, he looked up, first at Mulder and then at Scully. "Well, well. So you are the Bureau's resident experts on the strange and unexplained. You are the ones who are going to help us poor beleaguered bread-and-butter agents solve these robberies being committed by assembly-line human beings." He tapped the fingers of his hands together. "Oh, I'm Morris Kelso, section chief for the San Francisco and northern California area. You must be agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully." He reached over and picked up a page. "You are in luck. It seems that there was an attempted bank robbery in Pacifica yesterday. Two of the robbers were killed." He held out the piece of paper. Scully accepted the page while Mulder stood up. Mulder placed his hands on his hips and gazed at the floor, deep in thought. Then he looked at Kelso. "Thank you for your co-operation. I know that it must seem like agent Scully and I are intruding on.." his voice trailed off as Kelso gestured with his hand. "Now, now, Fox..." "Mulder, please." Mulder said abruptly. Kelso gave Mulder an appraising gaze. "Okay. Mulder. Anyway, as I was about to say, actually, we appreciate any help you can give us on this case." He swiveled to his left while tapping his fingers together. "Quite frankly, we haven't had much luck in this matter. Yesterday makes six attempted robberies. Groups of identical people. Each time a new group." Scully stood up. "Has there been an autopsy performed on the two dead women?" Kelso shook his head. Scully looked at Kelso, then Mulder. "Then if you don't mind, Chief Kelso, I would like to tend to that right away." Kelso looked at Scully with mild surprise on his face. Mulder was amused. It always tickled him when others were con- fronted with Scully's medical training. Then he sobered. "Chief, I was wondering if I could speak with the group of four people who made the reported mysterious appearance in Fargo Heights on March 23." Kelso looked at Mulder in astonishment. "Now why on earth would you want to do that? I fail to see what possible connection that these four popping out of some hole in the air could have with these robberies." He swiveled back to face Mulder. "Besides, they have been transferred to the custody of the N.S.A." It was Mulder and Scully's turn to look astonished. "The N.S.A? Now why..?" Kelso heaved a deep sigh. "It seems that when two of the four were reported missing, some interesting scientific equipment turned up." He stood up. "Without consulting the actual case file, I can't remember the names. But the young man had built some sort of space-warping machine. Apparently, whatever it is, it has been deemed to be in the interests of national security." He looked at Mulder inquiringly. "If you don't mind my asking, what's your angle?" "Well," Mulder looked over at Scully, "we had a theory that perhaps the robbers were clones and that" he looked at Scully again, "some or all of the four could have been kidnapped to serve as genetic templates." Kelso gave Mulder a very skeptical look. Then he leaned over and pressed the intercom button. "Ms. Carstairs?" "Yes, chief?" "Could you check and find out the name of the N.S.A. agent who took custody of the four people we had on counterfeiting charges?" "Yes, sir." "Thank you." Kelso straightened and looked at Mulder. "Personally I think you are wasting your time. But, then it's your time to waste. Besides" he glanced at Scully and then Mulder, "any time someone wants to yank the chain of the spooks, I am all for it." He gave the two agents a sly smile. "A man's got to find his entertainment where he can." An undisclosed location 1:34 PM Neeley exited the interrogation room. As the door closed behind him, his calm expression was replaced by a dark scowl. He had hoped that either Mallory or Arturo would relent and co-operate. It seemed, however, that both had very definite opinions and strong feelings and it looked like the interrogation process could continue for quite some time. Foster, one of Neeley's subordinates, approached him. "I think that we should separate them. Give them a chance.." His voice trailed off as Foster gave him a look. "Sir, we have a communication from Central." He glanced downward. Neeley sighed inwardly. "Some F.B.I. agents wish to talk with our subjects." Neeley paused. He had found it beneficial to stop and reflect before reacting to any unexpected development. Finally he spoke. "Just what sort of business would the F.B.I. have with them, do you suppose?" Foster just shook his head. "The message mentioned a series of robberies over the past several months. Apparently some of the investigating agents feel that.." Neeley cut him off with a curt gesture. "We are investigating what promises to be a very significant tech- nological development. We simply don't have time for any Fibbie nonsense." He glanced at Foster who simply stared back. "Sir, Central is quite clear on this matter. We are to offer the F.B.I. ample opportunity to interrogate the subjects on the case which they are investigating." As Neeley stared at him, Foster gave him a meaningful look. "I emphasize the latter part again, sir, _on the case which they are investigating_ ." Neeley pursed his lips and reflected for a moment. Obviously the agency was still smarting about the revelation of the Instrough investigation. His first impulse was to reject the F.B.I. request for interrogation. However, after further thought, he realized that this could work out. "Foster, inform Central that we will bring the subjects in for their agents to ask their questions. Have Central convey to those agents that I will be present during any interrogation of any of the subjects to ensure that their line of questioning stays on track." Foster nodded and left. F.B.I. Headquarters 4:35 PM Mulder looked up from his magazine as a young man approached him. "Agent Mulder?" Mulder nodded. "Would you follow me, please?" As Mulder followed the young agent down a corridor, he wondered how Scully was making out on the autopsies. The young man opened a door and gestured. Mulder entered the room and stopped dead. It was not the sight of the four people seated around the table; it was the N.S.A. agent who held his attention. He had heard reports of this man, Ferris Neeley. None of them were good. "Agent Fox Mulder, I presume. Ferris Neeley." he held out his hand, smiling sardonically. Mulder merely looked at him. After a minute, he put down his hand and gestured to the four people. "I would imagine that you would like to get right to it. I trust that your superiors informed you of the conditions." "Yes." Mulder looked at Neeley. Something about the man set off all kinds of alarms in Mulder's intuition. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He decided that perhaps it was just something in the makeup of the man. He looked at the older man with the beard. "Professor Maximillian Arturo." The man looked up at him. Mulder read weariness and mild alarm in his expression. "I am agent Fox Mulder of the F.B.I." He looked at the report which he held. "You have been reported missing for a period of four months, one week, and four days." He looked at Arturo who merely returned his stare. "Could you please tell me where you were during that time?" Mulder sat on the corner of the table, looking at Arturo expectantly. Arturo looked at Mulder for a moment, then lowered his gaze and sighed heavily. Then he started to speak. He told Mulder about Quinn's machine. He spoke of how Quinn had invited him and Wade Wells, a close personal friend of Quinn's, to witness a demonstration. He described how Quinn had activated his machine which bridged divergent parallel realities. He told how a power surge had apparently sucked in Rembrandt Jones. He started to describe some of the different Earths which the four had visited when Neeley broke in. "Now, Agent Mulder," he said, "you see that these four individuals have nothing whatsoever to do with your investigation. I have been quite patient. But now I must assert my authority in this matter and take these four back for further interrogation." Mulder nodded, about to agree with the agent, even though from the reactions he had observed in the four made him feel that the man comprised a threat to their well-being. Suddenly he had a thought. "One moment." He turned to the four again. "Have any of you encountered anything to do with cloning?" Arturo looked up with a puzzled frown. "Cloning?" he asked. "Yes." Mulder moved around the table to stand before the man. "I and my partner are investigating a series of robberies involving different groups of identical individuals. One of the theories is that someone is using a cloning process to produce expendable persons to commit the rob- beries." "Agent Mulder, I really must insist.." Neeley began but was inter- rupted by Arturo who stood up. "There was someone, a contemporary of mine at the university." He appeared thoughtful. "Simon Biswell. He was beginning research into the process of cloning higher-order organisms." Arturo looked at Mulder. "You have to understand that he was someone I knew from my Earth." Mulder nodded. "I understand, Professor." He pulled out a pad and pen and jotted down the name. "But it's a start. After all, you have a counterpart in this Earth. It's quite possible that, if nothing else, he could offer us some sort of help in this matter. Could you tell me any more about this Simon Biswell?" Arturo started to pace as he spoke. "Well, we were friends. We each took an active interest in the other's research." He smiled sheep- ishly. "You see, I am somewhat competitive in nature. It was easy for me to befriend Simon as his field of research was totally unrelated to mine. We would meet and discuss various topics in our fields." Arturo smiled as he recalled the conversations with his friend. "It was good practice for us both. It required that we each had to have a compre- hensive understanding in order to explain something to the other. Anyway, Simon, my Simon, was on the verge of developing a process for making clones of higher-order organisms. However..." He was interrupted by Scully bursting into the room. =========================================================================== Newsgroups: alt.tv.sliders,alt.tv.sliders.creative,alt.tv.x-files.creative From: jboe@efn.org (James Boe) Date: 8 Jun 95 01:16:35 MDT I am changing the part numbering. Since I put out part 1/2 (one-half), that sort of screwed up the conventional numbering of the parts. Now that I am putting my parts on an e-mail archive (SEE THE TRAILER FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ON THIS ARCHIVE), I am going to sort of change the numbering. So, you have NOT missed part 4. Under the old numbering order, this would be part 4. Chapter 4. San Francisco Waterfront District 3:02 PM April 3 The man in the white lab coat looked up from the monitor of his desktop computer. His gaze wandered across the banks of equipment to the array of glass cubicles which contained human figures. He smiled to himself as he pondered what he had accomplished so far. He shook his head slowly. It all seemed incredible. In three years he had managed to successfully make fully grown clones of living human beings. Of course the accelerated growth and indoctrination period did have drawbacks, one of which was tissue in- stability. Fortunately he had an ample supply of different human DNA samples from which to produce his 'servants'. Just a few more robberies, he thought to himself, and he would have a sufficient bankroll to start implementing his theories properly. He sighed and returned to the formulas and diagrams displayed on the computer monitor. F.B.I. Headquarters 4:36 PM The group consisting of Mulder, Arturo, Mallory, Wade, Rembrandt, Neeley, and one other N.S.A. agent looked at Scully. Her gaze passed over the others to fix on Mulder. She gestured with a sheaf of papers. "I have the results of the autopsy. You might want to take a look at this." She handed the papers to Mulder who opened them and scanned the first page quickly. "It seems that our perpetrators are indeed clones. Not only that" she glanced at Neeley and back to Mulder who was still reading, "but apparently the process used to produce them has a few bugs in it. According to the preliminary tests we ran, the tissue was in the process of deteriorat- ing." Professor Arturo held out his hand. "May I see that, please?" As Mulder passed the report to him, Neeley cleared his throat. "May I remind you, agent Mulder," he said evenly, "that these subjects are officially in my custody. Now I have been gracious enough to allow you this opportunity to interview them so you could determine what I already knew; they have nothing whatsoever to do with your investigation. Now I am.." he was interrupted by Arturo. "It's as I thought. This report bears out Biswell's, my Biswell's initial theories." He looked up at Mulder, then at Scully questioningly. "However, before I proceed, perhaps an introduction is in order." "Oh, Professor Maximillian Arturo, my partner Dana Scully." Arturo took Scully's hand and kissed it. Mulder waited for a minute, then gestured to each of the others in turn. "Quinn Mallory. Wade Wells. Rembrandt Jones. And this" he gestured to Neeley "is Neeley of the N.S.A." Scully looked at Neeley suspiciously, who smiled at her sardonically. "As I was saying, Mulder," Neeley continued "I have been patient but I really must.." Again he was interrupted by Arturo. "As _I_ was saying, Mr. Neeley," Arturo gave him an imperious stare, "this report bears out some of Simon Biswell's theories on cloning." "Neeley," Mulder said "perhaps we could work something out." "What do you mean, Mulder?" Neeley asked calmly. "Well," Mulder rubbed his jaw with his right hand "it seems that Professor Arturo might be able to assist agent Scully and me with some of the technical aspects of this case. He also seems to have some familiarity with the man who, if he is not directly behind these robberies, contributes a good deal to the method behind them. Now, I realize that the N.S.A. is not big on inter- agency co-operation. But, from what I have been briefed on your case, Mr. Mallory there" he nodded to Quinn "is the main individual behind the tech- nology you are investigating. Surely you could spare Professor Arturo for a while." Neeley stared at Mulder contemplatively. "Well, agent Mulder, perhaps I could, as you put it, spare him. However, I will insist on one of my men accompanying Professor Arturo. After all," Neeley smiled briefly "he is part of something deemed to be in the interests of national security. Also, I will require that both you and agent Scully do not speak of this matter to anyone else. That includes persons within your own agency. Do we have an agreement?" Neeley stared hard at Mulder. Scully looked first at Neeley, then at Mulder. "Okay, Neeley." Mulder said finally. "We have an agreement." He looked over at Scully who was going to speak but was silenced by something in Mulder's eyes. "Foster here will be the one to watch the professor." Neeley turned to the other agent. "You are not to allow him" he indicated Arturo with a slight jerk of his head "out of your sight under any circumstances. Is that clear?" "Yes, sir." Foster looked at Neeley for a moment, then turned to Mulder and said, "What now?" A Safe House Wellington Heights 5:36 AM April 4 Mulder sat at the kitchen table enjoying a cup of fresh-brewed New Papua Special Blend. Arturo appeared in the doorway. "Mind if I join you?" he asked. Mulder gestured to a chair. Arturo walked over to the counter, poured himself a cup of the steaming hot coffee, and then sat down. "Where is your shadow?" Mulder smiled at Arturo. He had found that he had unexpectedly warmed to the older man since first meeting him. This was unusual as Mulder usually maintained a field of reserve around himself, especially with anyone he had only met the day before. Arturo smiled wryly. "He is still asleep." He sipped his coffee and then set the cup down. "May I speak to you honestly?" he said. Mulder looked over at him. "I am concerned, not just for myself. You see, our 'sliding' between worlds is controlled somewhat by the timer device. When we arrived in this earth, our timer read 27 days. That period will end just three days from now." He looked at Mulder. "The way things stand now, it is very unlikely that we will be able to leave then." Scully walked in. She walked over, pulled up a chair, and sat down. Mulder and Arturo looked over at her. After a moment of somewhat awkward silence, Scully spoke. "Mulder, that N.S.A. guy gives me the creeps." Arturo glanced at Mulder. "I have heard about him." Mulder glanced at Scully and then gave Arturo a serious look. "Frederick Neeley. He apparently rose through the ranks of the spooks to become the spook's spook. You might say, Scully, that he is an X-file to himself." Seeing Arturo's puzzled expression, he went on to say, "Long story. I might explain it sometime. Anyway, he emerged from relative obscurity to become one of the N.S.A.'s premiere operatives only eight months ago. The word is that anyone who crosses him usually finds his or her career derailed." Foster strode into the room, looking peeved. "Professor Arturo." Arturo gave him a startled expression. "I am supposed to accompany you everywhere. I will not tolerate this sort of behavior." Arturo gave Foster a feigned expression of surprise. "I'm sorry, Mr. Foster. I was under the impression that you were on the same side as these fine F.B.I. agents. It won't happen again." "See that it doesn't." Foster snapped. As he walked over to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee, Mulder and Scully exchanged glances. Both stifled grins. This Professor Arturo was obviously someone that both of them could appreciate. "Well, Professor." Scully decided to move things along to alleviate the tension that Foster brought with him. "Well, we might as well get cracking, seeing as we are all here. So, what can you tell us about this Simon Biswell?" Arturo gave her a glance that seemed to convey gratitude. He took another sip of coffee and then sighed. "Well, Simon, from what I remember, had some theories regarding cloning. To perform cloning properly, one should simply produce an infant derived from the DNA of the original organism and raise it as one would any regular offspring of the species. One of Simon's early hypotheses was that one could speed up the process by incubating the fetus in a forced nutrient bath. Supposedly this would produce rapidly accelerated development and growth in the organism." "How accelerated?" Mulder said at the same time that Scully interjected "'Supposedly'?" They exchanged glances. As they broke eye contact, Mulder noticed the look of rapt interest on Foster's face. "Well," Arturo smiled briefly "it was one of Simon's earlier hypotheses. Some of his earlier experiments with animals like rabbits revealed the danger of tissue instability. Also, another issue with species like Homo Sapiens is that of education and training." He took a gulp of coffee, paused for a moment to savor the flavor, and then continued. "You see, humans have children, train them, and have them attend school. With accelerated development and growth, one would have to formulate a means for infusing information into the indivi- duals. This adds the complication of possible mental instability." After glancing at Foster, he looked first at Scully and then Mulder. "I had a chance to look over the case files you gave me last night. From what I can discern, it seems quite probable that these groups committing the robberies could indeed be clones produced by Biswell's process. My Simon Biswell had delayed development of his process in an attempt to find ways to surmount some of the problems. " He shook his head as he smiled ruefully. "I remember a conversation with Simon. At one point, he half-seriously suggested using his process as a means of producing money to finance further research. It would appear that this Simon went ahead and did just that." Scully said, "Do you have any sort of notion where we might find Simon Biswell, Professor Biswell?" Arturo looked thoughtful. Suddenly he smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I have some ideas on that." Foster broke in, "I am going to have to report in to Neeley. I will be back in a few minutes." He gave Mulder and Scully each a hard glance. "Keep an eye on the professor." He left quickly. Mulder, Scully, and Arturo each looked at one another as if to say, "What now?" Then Mulder broke the silence. "I think he is informing Neeley about the cloning theory. Another thing I had heard about Neeley is that he is involved with the technical section of the N.S.A." Noticing the puzzled expressions on both Scully and Arturo, he hastened to continue, "When they find any sort of technological developments that they consider useful, 'in the interests of national security', they move quickly to bring it into their area of control. That way, they can develop it for 'preventative purposes', either passive or active." "Well, then we best get cracking." Scully said. =========================================================================== Newsgroups: alt.tv.sliders,alt.tv.sliders.creative,alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: [STORY] X-Files Meets Sliders 6/? From: jboe@efn.org (James Boe) Author's note: All my vows to really get moving on this story and get these parts out more quickly seem to continually bang up against things that happen. One advantage to writing this way will be seen in this installment. I decided to work in a surprise guest star. It was a sort of spur-of-the- moment thing. You might say I was inspired by some comments and comparisons which I have read in this group. Enjoy! ;} Chapter 5 San Francisco An undisclosed location 9:22 AM April 6 Wade chewed her bite of food and then looked at Rembrandt. After a moment, the black man glanced at her. She swallowed and then spoke, "How are you holding up?" "Well" he said, "the food's okay. The coffee" he gestured with his cup "could be a little fresher." He looked at Wade's face and then smiled. "I know what you mean. Frankly, that spy dude scares me." "Rembrandt," she said, "he's not a spy. He's with the National Security Administration." "Aren't they the folks that have the C.I.A.?" he asked. "There you go. Anyway, back in the sixties I had some cousins who got involved with the Panthers." He noticed the young woman's surprised gawk. "See? Just because we been sliding together, we still got things to learn about one another." He took another bite, grimaced, and set his tray aside. "Anyway, as I was saying, I had some cousins who ran with the Panthers. The feds tried to send in some agents to get next to them." He chuckled at the memory. "Their idea of infiltrating was sending some of their guys, their _white_ guys, with wigs who must have just taken a quickie course in the lingo. Everyone knew who they were. One day their head honcho came around." He glanced at Wade who was hanging on his story. "This guy reminds me of him. One of those spooky characters with ice in his eyes. We ain't ever getting loose." "Now, Rembrandt." Wade said. She hesitated. The honest truth was that she was entertaining similar fears. "Hey, sweetness" Rembrandt patted her hand. "Don't fret. Reminds me of a story my grandpa told me one time. Seems that there was this king. This guy was brought before him for stealing. The king asked the guy if he had anything before the king had him killed. The guy told the king that if the king gave him a year that he would teach the king's horse to sing. The king started to laugh. The guy just repeated what he had said. Then he told the king that the king had nothing to lose. After all, if he taught the horse to sing, he could teach it to sing praises to the king. The king would have something that no other king had. Besides, if he didn't teach the horse to sing, the king could have him killed. The king thought about it and then said 'okay'. Now the other prisoners would make fun of this prisoner as he sang to the horse. One day the thief hushed the other prisoners. 'Hey!' he said, 'Look at it this way! I have a year. A lot could happen in that time. I could die. The king could die. I could escape. And who knows, the horse could learn to sing.'" He put his arm around her shoulders. "Besides, we got an ace in the hole." Wade pulled back and gave Rembrandt a look as he winked at her. Quinn's neighborhood The basement of Quinn's house 9:30 AM Quinn looked over the notes left by his counterpart from this world. He had been impressed when he had first read them. Obviously the other Quinn had made a breakthrough or two that he had somehow missed. Quinn paused in his scanning. He really hated having to co-operate with Neeley. It went beyond what Professor Arturo had said to Conrad Bennish. This man not only gave him the creeps; he seemed to exude an aura of .. well, evil. He gave the impression of someone who not only followed orders but who actually planned and contributed to the drawing up of said orders. Quinn was interrupted in his musing as Neeley walked up to him. "Well, Mr. Mallory" he said in his graveyard voice, "are you finally ready to assist us with this apparatus?" Quinn looked at the N.S.A. man. It took every bit of his self-control to refrain from breaking into shivers in the man's presence. "Well, Mr. Neeley," he said, glancing at the papers, "there are some differences. But I think that I can manage to come up to speed on it fairly quickly." Neeley clapped his hand on Quinn's shoulder. Quinn took a deep breath and fought off the strong urge to shake off the gesture. "Good. Glad to hear that you have finally decided to co-operate. I have pulled a few strings and managed to obtain the temporary services of someone who is one of the giants in the field of quantum physics." He turned and gestured to the agent standing at the foot of the stairs. The man went up the stairs. After a moment, he came back down followed by another man. Quinn gave a gasp of recognition. "Quinn Mallory, may I present.." "Dr. Samuel Becket!" Quinn exclaimed. "The foremost expert in the field of quantum physics! I am honored. I read your paper on the theory of quantum strings and time continuity." "Well, thank you." Sam said. He examined the young man before him. He had heard about the breakthrough that Quinn made concerning the Einstein- Rosen bridging theories. It rivalled Sam's own work in the field of time travel. "However, I can only spare about a week to help you with this. I am in the middle of a classified government-funded project. Oh, and please, call me Sam." "Okay.. Sam." Quinn looked at Sam nervously. The man held six, _SIX_, different doctorates. And he was taking time away from some top-secret project to help him. Quinn glanced at Neeley nervously. He fervently wished that there was some way that he could keep all this away from _him_. Sam glanced at Neeley and then looked at Quinn sympathetically. "Shall we begin?" he held out his hand toward the papers which Quinn held. Southern Waterfront District 11:40 AM Scully sipped her coffee and scanned the surrounding buildings. They were warehouses with corrugated sheet metal walls in various stages of rust. A police officer walked up to her. "We are ready to begin whenever you say, ma'am." he said. Scully turned toward him. "Okay. Let's start at the lower end of the street and work our way up." She indicated the direction with a gesture of her coffee. As the young officer walked back toward his patrol car and started speaking into the radio microphone, Scully paused to reflect again on the findings which had brought her here. Grease and oil stains on the sides of the shoes of the two dead clones were a slim lead but the best one that they had as to a possible location for Biswell's lab. She smiled as she thought about Mulder and Professor Arturo traipsing around the Stanford campus questioning various academic types about Simon Biswell. Mulder seemed to have taken quite a shine to the older Arturo. He was using the investigation as an excuse to keep the professor with them and away from Neeley as long as possible. Her reverie was interrupted by shouts. She looked up to see a young policewoman trotting toward her. "Agent Scully. We have found something. We think that it might be what you were looking for." Scully drained her cup and tossed it into a nearby barrel and followed the woman. She lead Scully to a door in a rather dilapidated building near the end of the street. She opened the door and entered when Scully gestured for her to lead the way. They went up a flight of stairs and entered a room. Scully stopped inside the doorway. The room was filled with various scientific and laboratory equipment in various stages of disassembly. There were several large glass cubicles along two adjacent walls. Scully looked over at the room's sole desk. There were various cables and wire-harnesses trailing up to it but either lying on the floor or draped over the desktop. "It appears that whoever was here was in the process of moving things out when we interrupted him." said the policewoman who had lead Scully to the room. "Okay. I want this room sealed off and a guard posted on the door until some forensic experts from the Bureau can .." Scully's voice trailed off as she noticed someone enter the room and she turned to see Neeley and two other men. "Thank you, Agent Scully. The National Security Administration is assuming control and responsibility of this room and its contents." Neeley said. He turned to the two men and said, "Start cataloging all of this." He turned back toward Scully and the policewoman with her. "Who is the officer in charge here?" he said to the policewoman. "Excuse me but this is possible evidence in the case that Mulder and I are investigating." Scully snapped. "Whatever your concern with all this" she gestured toward one of the banks of cubicles "it will have to wait until we have had time to examine it for clues." She gave Neeley her best penetrating stare which seemed to have little effect. "Agent Scully, I appreciate your zeal to duty but this is a matter of national security." he said with little emotion. "Now ..." "National security can go screw itself!" Scully exploded. "I and Mulder are on the trail of a man who has masterminded these robberies! At least four innocent people are dead, killed during the course of those crimes! You are NOT going to just waltz in here and try to confiscate all this just because you can chirp 'national security' like some demented parrot!" Scully turned to the policewoman. "Make sure that these men" she indicated Neeley and the other two with a jerk of her head "don't touch anything in this room. If they do, notify me immediately." "What would you do? Arrest us for 'touching'?" jeered one of the two who accompanied Neeley. He chuckled but was quieted by a look from Neeley. "No. I will arrest you for interfering with the investigation of a federal crime. N.S.A. or not, you are under the law like everyone else." Scully glared at Neeley. His only response was a slight narrowing of his eyes. This was the first time Scully had ever seen the man react to anything and she felt a slight tingle of fear. Quinn's house 11:45 AM Quinn and Sam were taking a break at the kitchen table. Quinn had wanted to continue but Sam had insisted that they stop for a quick bite. Quinn took a sip of water and then swallowed the bite he had been chewing. "So, what are you working on, Dr. Be.. uh, Sam?" he said. It was difficult for him to be on such intimate footing with Sam even though Sam had insisted on it. "I mean, if you can talk about it?" Sam smiled wryly. Quinn reminded him of himself at that age although Sam had been a little more wrapped up in his work. Sam glanced over at the N.S.A. agent who stood near the door. "Well, it IS classified but since I am the head of the project, I guess I can bend security a little." Sam noticed the agent scowling at him. "It has to do with time travel." "Time travel! What sort of approach are you taking? Are you using a variation of Cooper-Silas or following .." Sam cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I'm sorry. I can't discuss details. Besides," Sam glanced over at the agent and then back to Quinn "I am pursuing a theory of my own." At that moment the telephone rang. The agent reached around the door- way and answered it. After a minute, he gave Sam and Quinn a look and stepped into the hallway. "Dr. Becket. Now while we have some privacy, I need to talk to you." Quinn said urgently. "Now, Quinn," Sam sighed, "I really can't discuss my project." Quinn waved his hand impatiently. "No, this has nothing to do with that. I need your help." Quinn quickly explained about how he, Wade, Arturo, and Rembrandt had gotten started on their adventures. He then described about how they had lost contact with their base world due to changing the timer setting. "So you aren't from this Earth?" Sam marveled. "You are from an alter- nate Earth with a parallel but divergent history?" "Yes!" Quinn glanced quickly at the agent. "I think that he's going to be coming back. Look. All we, me and my friends, want is to get back to our own world. I don't think that Neeley is going to let us. I am not asking for anything illegal. I just want your help." Sam thought for a moment. He was sure that if Al Calavicci were here, he would caution Sam to be careful and not to get involved. But something had seemed a little fishy to Sam from the moment he had met Neeley. "Okay." Sam looked over to see the agent hanging up the phone. "We'll talk about it later." An undisclosed location 12:03 PM "So, what is this ace in the hole you mentioned?" Quinn whispered to Rembrandt as they sat at the table eating soup and sandwiches. Rembrandt scanned the room quickly without moving his head. "I have the new timer that Cue-Ball and the Prof were working on." "What?!" Wade exclaimed. An agent looked quickly in the room. "I mean, your sister really claims to have had sex with Martin Luther King?" "Hey! Can we have a little privacy here?" Rembrandt glared at the agent who gave them both a lingering glare and then left. Rembrandt looked back at Wade. "Girl, you are quick." "Never mind that. What is this about the timer? I thought that it wasn't finished yet." Wade glanced at the door and then back at Rembrandt. "It isn't really. Well, it is and it isn't. Y'see," Rembrandt pulled it out of his pocket, showed it to Wade, glanced nervously at the door, and then pushed it quickly back into his pocket "Cue-Ball didn't have a chance to put the timing thingy into it yet." "So, what good is it? And how did you manage to keep a hold of it?" "Well, Cue-Ball" Wade grimaced at him "Okay. Okay. Quinn put it into a transistor radio case. Everyone thinks that I just a have a radio. Anyway, when I activate it, it will open one of those hole things. After we slide through, that's it." "What do you mean, 'that's it'?" Wade had a sinking sensation in her stomach. She didn't care for where this was going. "I mean, that once we use this" Rembrandt patted his pocket "we ain't going anywhere else. Ever." "Well, then why did Quinn give it to you?" "Because we only got about 13 more days on the original timer. Quinn told me that if that deadline came and went, we should use this and leave." Rembrandt looked grim. "He's planning on booby-trapping the sliding thing he's working on. He will make the whole thing melt down or something. He figures that that fed will probably lock him and the professor up for the rest of their lives. He wants us to get out of here if that happens." Wade exchanged looks with Rembrandt. Author's note: Once again, I would like to make it clear that sticking Sam Becket in was a spur-of-the-moment thing. There might be folks who want to gnaw on my beak for not putting this on alt.ql.creative or alt.tv.quantum-leap.creative. I only intend for Sam to play a minor role in this. If anyone wants to cross- post this to the quantum leap creative groups, go right on ahead. If all goes as planned, this should be tied up in another three parts. If all doesn't go as planned, why then this should run a while longer. =========================================================================== Newsgroups: alt.tv.sliders.creative,alt.tv.x-files.creative From: jboe@efn.org (James Boe) Subject: [STORY] X-Files Meets Sliders, Part 7/? Date: Mon, 7 Aug 1995 22:59:52 GMT Author's note: It has been a long time since the first 6 parts were posted. It is entirely possible that there are quite a few newcomers who will want them as well as anyone who might have forgotten that this story was still in the works. There is a message at the end of this post telling where you can get these parts. I would REALLY prefer it if you checked out this archive rather than e-mail me. Thanks. San Francisco F.B.I. Headquarters 1:15 PM April 6 "I demand that you reprimand this agent and that all the equipment in the warehouse be turned over to my team immediately." Neeley glowered at section chief Kelso while indicating Dana Scully with a gesture of his hand. Kelso took a sip from his styrofoam cup while mentally sighing. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, allowing Scully and Mulder to con- tinue their investigation despite the appearance of the N.S.A. He should have known that it would blow up in his face. He set the cup of coffee down and looked from Neeley to Scully. "Mr. Kelso.." Kelso cut Neeley off with a raised hand. "Agent Scully," he addressed the redheaded woman, "am I to under- stand that you threatened Mr. Neeley here with arrest?" Scully had been struggling to regain her composure since her out- burst at the N.S.A. agent. "That is correct, Chief Kelso." She allowed her gaze to shift to Neeley for a moment and then looked back to Kelso. "He was attempting to interfere with the laboratory which we discovered. It appears to be the place where human clones were processed. I have every reason to believe that it was the source of the teams of identical persons which have committed the series of robberies during the past several months." Kelso looked at Scully critically. "Very well." He turned to Neeley. "Since agent Scully and her partner Mulder are the agents in charge of this investigation, I believe that they are the ones who should be allowed to have first crack at the lab and its contents. However, Mr. Neeley's concerns are valid. Therefore, I am giving him to place one or two of his agents on the premises to ensure that national security is not compromised. They are not to interfere with examination of any material evidence. Neither is anyone to interfere or hamper their efforts to provide security." Kelso fixed Neeley with a hard look. "Is this acceptable, Neeley?" Neeley nodded. "Do you agree, agent Scully?" Scully looked at Kelso. He had seemed to emphasize the word 'agent'. After a moment, she nodded. "Very well. I have contacted Washington and a team of top biological engineering experts is being assembled. They should arrive within a day or two. In the meantime, your two teams will, _WILL_ get along. To make sure of this, any examination of the equipment and other physical evidence will be performed only in the presence of agents from both teams. Is that clear?" After a pause, Scully said, "Yes." "Mr. Neeley?" Kelso turned to the N.S.A. agent. Neeley merely stared at him. "I require an audible response. If you don't accept this arrangement, then I will simply turn all of the physical evidence over to agents Mulder and Scully. I have been in contact with your superiors and they have turned over disposition of this matter to me. I will ask you again: is what I have said clear and do you agree to it?" "Yes. It is clear and under the circumstances, I agree to abide by it." "Then the matter is closed. I will leave it to the two of you to work out any details." Kelso walked around his desk and sat in the leather chair behind it. "Unless there is anything else..." he gazed up at Neeley and Scully. Stanford University Biology Department 2:08 PM As they sat in the waiting room of the department head's offices, Mulder looked over at Arturo and said, "How exactly did you two meet? In your world, that is? You were at Berkeley and Biswell was here at Stanford. I mean.." Arturo chuckled. "I would imagine that it would seem unlikely. Two different men in two different fields at two different universities. Actually, I met Simon at a symposium being held at Berkeley. It had to do with genetic drift in cloned organisms. I had heard about it and decided to attend. I had, still have actually, a keen interest in such things, especially such topics as cloning humans. My own field has been devoid of moral concerns and I guess that I have an interest in those fields of research that engender such debates. Upon hearing Simon speak, I was intrigued by him. His passion for his research reminded me of my own. We struck up a friendship that has endured for years." The secretary's phone buzzed. She picked up and after listening for a minute, she said, "The department head will see you now. He has an appoint- ment for 2:30 so he wanted me to remind you to please be brief." The two men arose and went to the door the secretary had indicated. The door opened and they were greeted by a balding man who appeared to be in his fifties. "Hello, Agent Fox, is it? I am Professor Emil Daniels." he shook Mulder's hand. Then he turned toward Arturo. "Professor Arturo. I cannot tell you what a great honor this is. Your reputation precedes you. Please, gentlemen, come in and be seated." They all settled into some rather com- fortable leather chairs. "Now, how may I help you? I believe you mentioned a criminal investigation of some sort, agent Fox?" "Please. Call me Mulder." Mulder found it hard to take offense at the bustling little man. "There has been a series of robberies of banks and other financial institutions. Based upon eyewitness reports, one theory is that these robberies might have been committed by a series of cloned humans. Professor Arturo" Mulder nodded toward Arturo "has brought up the name of Simon Biswell as either a suspect or someone who might provide us with other possible suspects." Daniels' expression changed. "Oh, dear." Arturo and Mulder exchanged glances. "What is it, Professor?" Mulder asked. "Well, I'm afraid that Mr. Biswell is no longer with us. He resigned some time ago." Daniels sheepishly glanced from Arturo to Mulder. "He had opened a line of research into cloning a while ago. He became obsessed with pursuing it. However, his failure to obtain an outside source of funding along with neglecting his lectures led the department to censure him. 'Publish or perish' might seem unfair or antiquated to many but unfortunately it is the way of academia. Mr. Biswell was under consideration for tenure but since he was so consumed by cloning to the exclusion of everything else, there really was no justification for awarding it to him. I mean," he smiled weakly "he wasn't even attempting to make a pretense of teaching or anything else. I spoke to him about it and he became extremely abusive. He stormed out of my office and I haven't seen or heard from him since." "About how long ago was this?" Daniels frowned thoughtfully. "Hmmmm. I believe that it has been.. about five, no, six months." He looked up expectantly at Mulder. "Yes, about six months. This happened before Thanksgiving of last year. Actually, now that I think of it, it occurred right after Halloween." "Would you have any idea where we might find him?" Mulder asked. "No. I'm afraid not. His severance check was mailed to him and from what I have been told, that is the only piece of mail that did not come back. I assume that he moved shortly after receiving it." Mulder looked over at Arturo. "Well, thank you for your time and co-operation, Professor Daniels. If you should happen to remember anything, however trivial, concerning Biswell, please contact either me or my partner, Dana Scully." Mulder pulled out a business card and quickly jotted down the number for the local Bureau office on the back. He handed the card to Daniels and then he and Arturo left the office. Quinn's neighborhood The basement of Quinn's house 11:20 AM April 8 "Al. Yes, this is Sam. No. No. Al. Al! Would you just hold on a minute? Hold on." Sam placed his hand over the receiver and looked at Quinn and the N.S.A. agent. "Could I ask you both to leave the room for a bit? This is both personal and classified." The agent gave Sam Becket a slightly irritated glance and then gestured for Quinn to go first. Sam waited a moment longer and then removed his hand from the phone receiver. "Al. Just listen. I need for you to fire up Alpha and.. Alpha. You know, the parallel hybrid computer. Okay, okay. Ziggy. I need you to have Gooshie and his assistant Edward Sinjin prepare the computer for a data run. There are some highly complex quantum calculations that I need to have crunched. No. They are not related to our project." Sam sighed exasperatedly as he listened for a moment to his friend Al Calavicci read him the riot act for taking time away from the Quantum Leap project to help the government with the equipment that had been found and was believed to be responsible for the disappearance of at least three persons. "Al. This is important. No. I mean, really important." Quickly Sam made a brief explanation of what Quinn had called the 'sliding' mechanism and how it operated to open tunnels between parallel dimensions. "Yes. I am working on this right now. I am helping the young man who developed it in another world." Sam quickly explained about Quinn Mallory and his three companions and their experiences. "Now, we are close to making a breakthrough on the equipment that is here. But I need you to do something for me. Some- thing important. You might need to pull all the strings you can for me on this one." Sam outlined what he wanted Al to do and then hung up. He glanced at the door and then sighed. He walked over to the door and said, "Okay. I'm done. Let's get back to work, shall we?" =========================================================================== From: jboe@efn.org (James Boe) Subject: [STORY] X-Files Meets Sliders, part 8/9 Date: Fri, 25 Aug 1995 19:09:41 GMT Chapter 7 San Francisco Kingston Peak Neighborhood 1:20 PM April 8 Biswell paced nervously across the carpeted floor of the spacious living room. Since the raid on his makeshift facilities two days ago, he had been jumpy. If not for that timely phone call, he would have been arrested. He should be relieved. But then things should have never come to that. Something was wrong. Somehow the authorities had found out his identity. He had a creeping feeling that it was only a matter of time before they came looking for him here. Suddenly his worried musings were interrupted. "Hey, perfesser!" a young man with dark hair burst into the room from a hallway. "It's one of the Madelines and the last Christy. They're at it again." Biswell hurriedly followed the man down the hall to a spacious bedroom. Two young women were rolling around on the floor, locked in furious battle, screaming insults and curses at each other. They were surrounded by eight other young men and women. Biswell surveyed the scene for a moment and then elbowed his way through the onlookers. "Stop it! Stop it!! Break it up, you two!" He struggled vainly for a moment to separate the two combatants. He looked up at some of the others who were standing around, watching. "Help me, you idiots! You and you!" He pointed at two identical young blonde men. They each grappled one of the fighting women and slowly managed to pull them apart. As they straightened up, they each maintained a tight bearhug around the wriggling women. Biswell stood. After patting his clothes smooth, he looked angrily at the women. Then he suddenly lunged forward and slapped each in turn viciously. "That will be enough of this nonsense." he hissed. "I have enough to occupy my thoughts without you behaving like spoiled babies." As the women started to protest and make excuses, he raised his hand as if to strike. They fell silent. "I don't know what it was about and I don't care. From now on, no one is to engage in any sort of disagreement. Is that understood?" He glowered around at the whole group who for the most part lowered their heads. One young man spoke up. "But what about our problems?" The speaker had at one time been a very striking good-looking individual. His looks were marred by patches of scalp where hair had fallen out in clumps. Also, his eyes conveyed the sort of dull vacancy one would associate with the mentally ill. "Yer was goin' to fix us up. My head hurts and sometimes I can't see so good." The others nodded their agreement. "Okay. I will see what I can do. You were one of the Teddies, weren't you?" Biswell said in a quiet tone. The young man nodded. "Okay. You come with me and I will give you some medication to take away the pain." As the young man followed Biswell out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom, Biswell felt a churning unease in his stomach. The tissue deterioration had accelerated far faster than his initial calculations had predicted. Also, some of the clones had started to exhibit violent out- bursts characteristic of cerebral deterioration due to genetic instability. His time was starting to run out. He had to remain hidden with a group of eleven young people in the prime of life whose physical appearances were starting to decay and whose minds were beginning to break down. This was not good. Bayview Motel Room 17 9:11 AM April 9 As Mulder and Arturo were finishing up the breakfast which room service had brought, there was a knock at the door. Mulder wiped his mouth with a napkin, stood, walked over, and opened the door. Scully looked in. "I hope that I'm not interrupting anything." she smiled and then walked in. "Well, things have been quiet over at the facilities. Neeley and his group seem to be respecting Kelso's authority, for now anyway." Arturo had stood up the moment that he had seen it was Scully. He walked over and gestured toward the cart. "Would you care to join us, Ms. Scully?" Scully stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. "Thank you. I have already eaten. However, I could use a glass of that juice." As Arturo poured her a glass of orange juice, she looked at Mulder. "Have the two of you come up with anything else?" Mulder shook his head. "It's like Simon Biswell just dropped off the face of the planet." He looked at Arturo as the professor handed the glass to Scully. "It's not possible that he used this process that brought your group here to go to some other world. I mean..." He broke off as Arturo shook his head slowly. "No, I am afraid not, Mr. Mulder. Mr. Biswell's field of expertise was genetic research and there is nothing in what I have seen or encountered that demonstrates otherwise. In fact, I believe that the Simon Biswell of this Earth never met or knew Maximillian Arturo." He sighed. As he turned to gather up his plate, he added, "I wonder if he even met Francine Matthews." Scully and Mulder exchanged glances. "Francine Matthews?" Scully asked. "Yes. She was his fiance in my world. From what I have seen and heard, there is no mention of her at all." Arturo looked up at Mulder and Scully who both appeared interested. "Tell us, Professor," Mulder said quietly, "everything you know about the Francine Matthews of your world." An undisclosed location 11:11 AM As Wade started to walk from the bathroom into the hall, she stopped short. The N.S.A. agent assigned to guard her and Rembrandt was talking on the phone. She slipped back a bit and listened intently. "Yes. No one has attempted to talk to either of them. No. I haven't heard from him. Yes. Yes. I would have told you of any contact immediately. I understand, sir. Do you have any further instructions regarding these sub- jects?" The man listened for a few minutes. "Very good. I will make contact with the Wolfman later today. He is the one we use for this sort of thing, isn't he? Very good." As the man hung up, Wade felt a ball of fear form in her throat. It looked like things were going to come to a head sooner than they had thought. She waited for a minute and then made a show of noisily entering the hall. The agent gave her an examining stare. She mustered her courage and walked past him into the kitchen. She hurried over to Rembrandt who sat at the table, finishing a cup of coffee. He looked up. "What is it?" She glanced at the hallway entrance and then turned to him. "I think that something is up. I heard Slam on the phone." Slam was the nickname which she and Rembrandt had given their guard. It came from a television character on their Earth. "I think that some sort of arrangements are being made. Final arrangements." Rembrandt looked worried, then his features became somber. "Guess we will have to use this sooner than we thought." He pulled out the makeshift timer which Quinn had managed to construct before they had been arrested by the F.B.I. "What is that?" they turned to see the N.S.A. agent standing in the hallway entrance. He started to walk towards them, holding out his left hand. "Let me see that." His right hand hovered over his stomach, ready to reach in and pull his pistol from the shoulder holster under his jacket. "Just a radio, man." Rembrandt attempted to look nonchalant. "Well, I had better take it for safekeeping." The agent stood next to Rembrandt while keeping Wade in view. Wade and Rembrandt exchanged nervous glances. "Come to think of it, I don't think that I have ever heard you turn that on. Perhaps you had better give it to me." Rembrandt put the device, which was disguised as a transistor radio, back into his pocket and started to walk around the agent. "No. I mean, you keep us locked up here and now you are tryin' to take away my music. No way." The agent turned to face Rembrandt and started to reach for his gun. His back was toward Wade. She looked around frantically for something to use as a weapon. The chairs were too heavy for her to pick up and use quickly. Suddenly she grabbed a plate from the dish drainer. She swung it around and managed to connect with the agent's head. The heavy ceramic plate cracked in two from the impact. The agent started to slump to the floor, grasping his head. Wade grabbed another plate and brought it down with both hands. The agent collapsed. Rembrandt looked at Wade. Then the black man knelt and removed the agent's pistol from his hand. As he straightened, he said, "Where is the other guy?" "I think that he is still out picking up lunch." "Well, we had better get out of here." "Where are we going to go?" "The only place we can. Quinn's house. C'mon. We can ask for di- rections along the way." "But," she started to protest, "what about the professor? What if Quinn isn't there?" "Look, girl," Rembrandt spun her around and looked her straight in the eyes, holding both her forearms, "we got one chance. We got to take it. Now, if we have to leave either Q-ball or the professor or both, they would understand. Q-ball is the one that gave this thing to me with the instructions to use it. The only reason I am willing to take a chance by going there is that it's the only place we know that one of them might be. No time to waste." As they headed for the backdoor, he added, "The horse is starting to warm up his vocal cords." Quinn's house 11:23 As Quinn adjusted a circuit board, he heard steps on the stairs. He turned to see the guard following a man smoking one of the largest cigars he had ever seen. The man also wore a vary garish tie which contrasted with the almost conservative appearance of the rest of his attire. "Hey, you can't smoke that down here! There is very sensitive circuitry that can be affected the smoke particles. Who are you, anyway?" The man handed the cigar to the N.S.A. agent who had accompanied him. He made shooing gestures and turned to Quinn. "Admiral Al Calavicci, U.S. Navy. Where's Sam Becket?" "I think that he went upstairs to use the bathroom. Why do you want to know, anyway?" Quinn wasn't sure if he liked this man much. "You must be Quinn Mallory. Sam told me all about you." Al looked past Quinn at the sliding mechanism. "That must be the whatzis that you invented." "Al!" Quinn and Al turned to see Sam coming down the stairs. "What are you doing here?" "I've come to take you back to the Project, Sam, and I'm not going to take 'no' for an answer. We're in danger of running behind schedule and some of the board members are starting to question whether the govern- ment can afford to continue fund us." "They can't yank the funding now!" Sam appeared quite agitated. "We are only just starting to make headway on the frequency problems and the holographic imaging process is almost complete." "Which is why you need to come back. You are the expert and you are the only one that can talk to them and make them listen." Al paused for a minute. "Oh, I almost forgot." He opened the attache case he carried and removed a sheaf of papers. "Here are those figures you wanted Ziggy to run." Just then they were interrupted by someone else coming down the stairs. He and the two others who accompanied him walked over and looked at Sam, Al, and Quinn. "Who are you?" Al asked. "I am Morris Kelso. I happen to be the section chief of San Francisco the northern California area for the F.B.I." The balding man gave Al a steely glance. "Oh. Well, I am Admiral Al Calavicci, U.S. Navy. I've come to retrieve Dr. Sam Becket here to resume work on a top-secret government project. I spoke on the phone with you the other day." Al looked at Kelso steadily. "Yes. I remember. I made some further inquiries after the initial ones you requested." "Excuse me. Would someone mind letting me in on what's going on?" Quinn interrupted. "You must be Quinn Mallory." Kelso said. "Admiral Calavissi.." "Calavicci." Al corrected him, giving him a dark glance. "Calavicci, sorry. The admiral called the main F.B.I. office the other day, making inquiries about Agent Neeley from the N.S.A. Well, as I said," the section chief glanced at Al, "after the main office contacted me with their results, I had further inquiries made. It seems that Agent Neeley has been running a rogue operation within his agency." As Quinn started to protest, the man continued. "It seems that sometimes such things are permitted if certain proprieties are kept. But in this case it would seem that Neeley's scheming resulted in several robberies. He has apparently been assisting Simon Biswell with the cloning research and been tipping him off whenever any investigation was getting too close." "What are you going to do about this?" Sam asked, giving the chief a scrutinizing gaze. "Well, Dr. Becket, this is not the first time that Neeley has staged a rogue operation. One or two have backfired on him in the past. His superiors are willing to allow him to take the heat for this one. Agent Mulder called me about an hour ago. Your friend, Professor Arturo," Kelso looked at Quinn, "was able to come up with a lead as to the location of Biswell. At present, Neeley is nowhere to be found. First things first." He gestured to Quinn. "We are on our way to take Biswell into custody. I thought that you might like to accompany us." As they started to leave, Sam spoke. "Chief Kelso." Kelso paused on the stairs and turned to look at Sam. "Would you mind if Al and I came along? I would like to see how it all comes out. We won't interfere or get in the way, I promise." Kelso looked thoughtful for a moment and then gestured in invitation. Sam turned to Al who was starting to protest. "Al, look. This won't take that long. If you let me do this, I will go back to the Project with you and won't take any more time away. Please." Al opened his mouth to speak and then closed it in exasperation. "All right. But after this is over, it's right to the airport and the first plane back to New Mexico. I want your word of honor." Sam smiled. "Word of honor." =========================================================================== From: am589@detroit.freenet.org (James Boe) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: [STORY] X-Files Meets Sliders, part 9/9 Date: 14 Sep 1995 20:15:28 GMT Chapter 8 San Francisco An indeterminate neighborhood 11:15 AM April 9 Wade and Rembrandt walked rapidly along the sidewalk. She looked over at him. After a minute of her gaze, he stopped and looked back. "What?" he said. "We don't even know where we are. How are we supposed to find our way to Quinn's house." she said, adding, "Besides, if Neeley has ordered us killed, he's probably arranging the same thing for Quinn and the professor. We need to find them as soon as possible." Rembrandt pondered her words. Now that he stopped to think about it, it did seem likely that Neeley would take care of all his loose ends. Suddenly a car pulled over to the curb and Neeley quickly got out. As Rembrandt and Wade turned to run, he pulled out a pistol and said, "I will shoot you if you make it necessary." The two turned back to the N.S.A. agent. He gestured with the pistol. "Get in." Rembrandt exchanged glances with Wade and then the two slowly got into the back seat of the car. The car pulled away. Neeley turned around in the front passenger's seat. "I see that you two were resourceful enough to effect an escape. It's a good thing that I" he held up a cellular phone "was in the neighbor- hood. We were on our way to resolve the matter of Mr. Biswell. You can accompany us." He started to face forward and then turned again. "If either of you attempts anything, I will shoot you in the most painful nonfatal manner possible." As he faced front, Wade and Rembrandt exchanged nervous looks. Rembrandt patted the pocket containing the disguised timer suggestively. Wade looked at him for a moment, then shook her head slightly. Kingston Peak Neighborhood 11:34 AM Biswell paced nervously. He had finally managed to sedate the last of the clones. Some of them had been well-behaved but he couldn't take any chances. The outbreaks of violence were coming more often and in some cases without any advance symptoms. He heard a car pull up. He went to the window and looked through the blinds. It was Neeley and one of his agents. They had a black man and a young woman with them. Biswell went to the door and opened it. As the group entered, he braced the N.S.A. agent angrily. "Who are they? I don't need any more contributors right now! I'm having trouble enough with the clones I have without making more!" As Wade and Rembrandt entered the house, they looked around. There were various individuals sitting in chairs and lying on the floor. All appeared to be unconscious. Wade looked closer. Some appeared to be identical. She gasped slightly. Some of the people seemed to have suffered some sort of damage. It looked like their flesh was in various stages of slowly dissolving from their bodies. "These two were part of a group which the F.B.I. had in custody on other charges." Neeley leaned slightly toward Biswell. "It's possible that they hold the means of escaping from this world and re-establishing ourselves elsewhere." "From this world?" Biswell looked at Rembrandt, then Wade, and then at Biswell. "What?? They're aliens!?" "Nothing of the kind. Here, let me explain." Neeley turned to the other N.S.A. agent. "Keep an eye on them. Keep them together and quiet. If they try anything, anything at all, shoot them both in the right knee." He turned back to the bewildered scientist and lead him out of the room, talking softly. The agent looked at Wade and Rembrandt. He shrugged slightly as if to say 'You heard the man'. Rembrandt looked at the unconscious forms which took up all the sitting places and some of the floor. "Can we find some place a little more comfortable?" he asked. The agent looked around and then gestured to a doorway. Suddenly one of the clones moaned, softly at first and then more loudly. As he started to straighten up, Biswell ran back into the room followed by Neeley. Wade glanced at Biswell who appeared to be in a state of panic. "Oh, my god!" he shrieked. "The sedative is wearing off too quickly!" He turned and ran down a hallway. He returned in a moment, carrying what appeared to be a physician's bag. He set it down and opened it. He removed a hypodermic needle and rummaged through the various bottles of chemicals. "I'll need a much higher dosage!" As he inserted the needle into a bottle of slightly greenish fluid, the young man who had moaned suddenly leapt to his feet. "Yer shaid yer wash gonna fix ush! Lookit me!! I'm fallin' 'part!" Indeed, this was the same young man who had complained about headaches just yesterday. All of his hair had fallen out and some of the scalp had fallen off to remain gleaming patches of skull. Half of his mouth sagged horribly, causing him to slur his speech. As he extended his right hand, Wade gave a brief scream. The tips of the fingerbones extended through the flesh. The commotion had caused some of the others to stir. Biswell looked around frantically. He grasped Neeley by the lapels of his jacket. "You have got to do something! If they all wake up, there's no telling what will happen! Do something!!" The agent slapped Biswell hard. Then he grabbed his hands and removed them from his jacket. "Get a hold of yourself." He looked around. Then he reached into his jacket and extracted his pistol. "If necessary, we can simply dispose of them." "You don't understand!" Biswell wailed. "When I produced them, I altered their genetic structure! They are very resistant to most bullets and are about three times stronger than a normal human!" As Neeley digested this information, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several vehicles pulling up outside. As he, Biswell, and the other agent went to the window to look out, Rembrandt grabbed Wade by the arm. He pulled her toward the hallway. Neeley turned and saw them. "Stop! Stop or I'll fire!" He pointed the pistol at them. Suddenly two of the clones grabbed at him. As he turned to deal with them, Rembrandt and Wade turned to run. Biswell was beside them in an instant. "Take me with you! Take me anywhere but here!" They turned to survey the living room. Four clones grappled with Neeley and two others had the other agent on the floor. As Rembrandt started to turn, Biswell grabbed his arm. "That's the only way out!" he pointed at the front door. "I had the other doors sealed to prevent the clones from wandering off!" The three looked toward the door. Neeley had managed to break free of the clones with which he had been struggling. He had lost his pistol. He started toward Rembrandt, Wade, and Biswell. Wade grabbed at Rembrandt's pocket. "The timer! Use the timer!" "But what about Q-ball and the professor?" "Not for us! Use it on them!" Rembrandt pulled out the makeshift timer Quinn had given him. Neeley was almost upon him when a voice blared from outside. "This is the F.B.I. Give yourself up, Simon Biswell. We know you are in there. The house is surrounded and there is no escape." Neeley had turned at the sound of the bullhorn voice. Rembrandt quickly punched the keys as Quinn had instructed. Suddenly the air in the middle of the living room shimmered and a rippling circular hole formed. Winds quickly formed as air rushed into the portal. The other agent and several of the clones were sucked into the hole. Neeley was struggling against the forces which attempted to pull him backward. Rembrandt threw the timer at him and it struck him on the forehead. As he grabbed at the cut it had made, he lost his footing and flew backward and disappeared into the portal. The portal remained open for several seconds longer and then winked out. The front door burst open. "Freeze! F.B.I.!" Several agents wearing blue flak jackets poured in, training weapons on everyone. Then Arturo and Quinn rushed in. Quinn and Wade embraced each other fiercely. "Glad to see you, too." muttered Rembrandt. "Now, now, Mr. Brown" chuckled Maximillian Arturo, "let us give the young folks their reunion." Sam Becket and Al Calavicci slowly walked in, surveying the disorder. "What the heck happened here?!" Al said, gazing around. Sam looked at Quinn who looked at Wade, then Rembrandt. Rembrandt shrugged and smiled. "Just a little improvisation, my man. Just a little improvisation." F.B.I. headquarters 12:05 PM Section chief Kelso, Mulder, and Scully sat on one side of the long conference table while Quinn, Wade, Professor Arturo, and Rembrandt sat on the other. "So, Mr. Brown, you used the substitute timer mechanism which Mr. Mallory here" Kelso indicated Quinn with a nod of his head, "had constructed prior to your original arrest by the F.B.I." He gazed steadily at Rembrandt who finally nodded. "The interdimensional vortex pulled Agents Neeley and Graham of the N.S.A. as well as nine of the remaining eleven clones in and now they are on some alternate Earth. Is that correct?" He looked around at the four. "Yes, Mr. Kelso. That is the case." Professor Arturo replied. Then he added, "Also, there is no means of retrieving them as the device which used to open the portal did not establish any sort of lock." "I see." Kelso sat quietly. After a moment of heavy silence, Rembrandt spoke. "Excuse me? Mr. Kelso? Uh.. what is going to become of us?" Kelso surveyed the four. Then he looked over at Mulder and Scully. "Well, as far as I can tell, the only thing which we have on you is the original charge of counterfeiting. That seems to be a case of mistaken judgment more than anything else. Your situation is unique in my experience. You are citizens of the United States, but not this United States. I'm sure that there are factions of OUR government which might be interested in you and your situation. Perhaps you would give me some time to confer with agents Mulder and Scully." The four walked out into the hall where they were lead to a waiting room. As the wait lengthened, nervousness seemed to prey upon the group's members. Finally, Scully appeared followed by Mulder. Each of the four stood up. "Well, we discussed your situation and consulted with the national director." She looked quickly at Mulder. "You are welcome to remain here on this Earth." Mulder looked at the group waited for him to continue. "You are also free to leave since you don't seem to constitute any sort of threat to national security. You don't, do you?" As the group looked at him anxiously, Scully interjected. "Don't mind him. That's his sense of humor or what passes for it. You are free to leave when your timer expires." She looked at the group who appeared relieved. As the group relaxed, Quinn spoke up. "Would it be possible for me to visit with Dr. Becket?" "I'm afraid not. Dr. Becket and Admiral Calavicci's flight left about" Mulder glanced at his watch, "five minutes ago. However, Dr. Becket left me this to give to you." Mulder handed Quinn a folded paper. Quinn unfolded it and read it slowly. As he looked up, the others looked at him. Quinn read aloud. "Quinn, I hope that things work out for you and your friends. I can't imagine what it would be like, being lost and separated from your home. I hope that I never have to experience it. If you decide to stay here, let me know. I would be glad to find a spot for you on my project. If you do leave, remember that you are welcome to stop in and pay a visit any time you might happen back this way. I wish I could invite you out for a visit but things are critical on the project and time is tight. Al says 'Be careful and watch out for the nozzles. The universe is full of them.' Sam Becket" As Quinn folded the paper, Professor Arturo spoke. "Agent Mulder. I am pretty sure that I speak for the rest of us in expressing our gratitude for your considerate treatment, under the circumstances, and inquiring as to what sort of accomodations can be made for us until the timer expires? Those of us who will be leaving when the time comes, that is?" Quinn looked up to see the professor regarding him. Then he noticed Wade and Rembrandt staring at him, as well. He waved the paper and just shook his head. Mulder said, "Well, officially the Bureau won't be able to offer you anything. However, section chief Kelso wanted me to let you know that he has a little retreat in the northern part of the state. He would be glad to let you stay there until time to go." Each of the four looked at the others. "I believe we will take him up on that offer." Arturo said. As they sat down to make arrangements, Rembrandt paused. "I wonder what happened to that creepy guy and those clones?" Epilogue An alternate plane in which the Earth exploded several million years ago as the result of a collision with a large planetoid The air shimmered and then a circular hole appeared. First, one flailing figure flew out of it. Then, one by one, ten others were ejected. After a few seconds, the hole disappeared. Each of the eleven beings floated in the gloom of space. Each slowly exploded from the pressure of internal gasses and fluids. Author's note: Well, it's done. I'm glad. I learned quite a bit from writing this story. It is flawed here and there. One important lesson I have learned is: never write using established characters if you aren't familiar with them. I refer to Mulder and Scully. To all X-Files fans who might read this story and become upset with me, I can only say that I am sorry and I won't do it again until I can do better. -- James -- "Life is a sport. Drink it up!!!" | e-mail: am589@detroit.freenet.org *cough* *cough* @HACK* >GASP!!< | e-mail: jboe@efn.org "Someone put Gatorade in my whiskey!!" | phone: (307) 742-9206