"Double Catastrophe" by Maggie Fitzgerald *Disclaimer: As always, the premises and characters I have used in this story belong to St. Claire Entertainment, and this story will be used only for entertainment purposes. Chapter One The familiar feeling of displacement and distortion flooded Quinn's body and mind as he plunged into the vortex for what must have been the millionth time. Even though he had watched the other three enter it before him, he wouldn't be able to see them again until they emerged on the other side. The swirling colors of the inside of the wormhole were still wondrous and beautiful to him, even though he had been seeing them for over two years now, every time they slid from one world to another. He felt the pull that told him he was almost to the end of the slide, and he braced himself. Suddenly the world exploded into view around him as he tumbled through the air—and hurtled headfirst into Rembrandt. The African-American singer grunted and toppled over into a large pile of orange leaves, sending Quinn down with him. They could both hear the cheerful laughter from their young friend Wade, and the hearty chuckling that was unmistakably the Professor's. Quinn pulled himself to his feet and offered a hand to help Rembrandt. Once they were both standing, Quinn threw a mock glare at Wade. "It's not funny," he said, with a hint of a smile. She looked at him for a moment, and then she laughed even harder when she saw the accusing look Rembrandt sent Quinn's way. "Man, now I know how the Professor feels," the Cryin' Man said. "Next time, Q-Ball, you go first." "Sorry, Remmy." Quinn grinned and brushed the leaves out of his short brown hair with his fingers, pushing his bangs, parted in the center, out of his eyes. "How long are we here for, Q-Ball?" Rembrandt asked Quinn took the timer out of his pocket. The digital numbers counted down, a familiar sight to all of them, ever since they had lost the ability to choose how long a slide would be on a world where ninety percent of the male population of the Earth had been annihilated by a disease, and the rest of them were used for breeding only. Wade was still amused by that one. Quinn answered Rembrandt's question with a glance at the timer. "Five days." Then he shook his head. "I can't believe those people on that world have never seen a football game in their lives. America's not America without the 49ers." Rembrandt nodded. "Yeah, and I don't know about you guys, but I can't stand golf." Professor Arturo began walking down the dirt road, and the others walked with him. His beige trench coat flapped around him as the chilly breeze penetrated it. "Actually, Mr. Brown," he said in his charming English accent, "I sometimes find it a rather pleasant way to relax." Rembrandt raised an eyebrow. "Pleasant enough to make it the only sport in America that's not illegal?" Arturo shrugged. "I didn't say that." Wade shivered in the brisk autumn air and shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her light jacket. Her blunt-cut strawberry-blond hair fluttered in the wind. "I don't have an opinion. I don't follow sports." Quinn looked sideways at her. "Why not, Wade? I think if you gave football a chance, you'd enjoy it." Wade snorted. "No, I really don't think that watching a bunch of guys sweat like pigs and deliberately bash their heads together is my idea of entertainment." Quinn decided to press it a little further. "Come on. You don't mean that. Football actually does have a point to it, Wade." "I do mean it, Quinn. I just don't like football." Quinn turned to face her, but walked backwards to keep up with them. "Just watch one game. One game—" Suddenly he saw an immense red shape rise over the hill and head straight for them. It zeroed in on Wade's purple jacket and began to pick up speed. His eyes widened. "Wade, look out!" She whirled at his shout and, seeing the huge winged form coming for her, dived for the ground with a shriek, followed by Quinn and the others. As the thing passed over them, it roared deafeningly, and they could see flames spewing from its throat. "Quinn, what is that?!" she cried. He glanced at her, then back up at the creature. "I don't think this is the time, Wade." The thing turned in fury, ready to dive for them again. Quinn jumped to his feet and yanked Wade up beside him, taking off as fast as he could. "Run!" he yelled, hoping the other two would take the hint. Apparently they did, because several seconds later the four of them were racing down the other side of the hill, trying not to look over their shoulders at the red thing pursuing them. A loud crackling filled their ears, and they turned to see a ball of blue flame collide with the creature. It wailed inhumanly and crashed to the ground, a blazing inferno of cobalt against the dying light in the sky. They stopped and turned, amazed and horrified at the same time. "What a welcome," Wade said softly. "What is this thing?" "A wyvern." The voice had come from a figure walking up the hill towards them. Behind that one were two more. Quinn couldn't see their faces, silhouetted as they were in front of the brilliance of the sunset. The voice had sounded familiar, though, and he walked forward to greet the person whom he assumed was the one who had killed the thing. Wade, Arturo, and Rembrandt were right behind him, as always. As Quinn got closer, the light shifted, and the man's face came into view. It was his own. He sighed and looked at Wade, as if to say Here we go again. Then he turned back to...himself. His double. "I can explain this. I know it's going to sound weird, but—" He stopped in mild surprise as he saw one of the two people standing behind his double--another version of Arturo. The other was still concealed in shadow. Quinn's double stood looking at them suspiciously, glancing at the others with him as if for reassurance that what he was seeing was real. He turned back to Quinn with a wary glance. "Who are you?" His gaze passed over Wade, and suddenly he looked stricken. For a brief second, Quinn thought he would be able to get through to his double, although he couldn't figure out what was wrong. But then his double's expression darkened, and his eyes narrowed. "You're from the Shadow Realm, aren't you?" He shook his head defiantly. Defiant...of what? Quinn was puzzled, but he kept his mouth shut for the moment. His double spoke again, to no one in particular, it seemed. "You won't win. You'll never win!" The third figure stepped up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Quinn, let's just get out of here," she said, although her shaky tone betrayed her strong words. "They have to be Shadow creatures. Don't let him manipulate you." It was a female voice, and one that was faintly familiar. But still, they couldn't see her. Quinn's counterpart nodded and turned to leave, but Quinn stepped forward and put one hand on his double's shoulder. "Wait." His twin turned with a frown. "You heard me. I'm not taking the bait, so just leave me alone." He took the woman's arm. As they turned, Quinn caught sight of her face, and his eyes widened. He quickly turned to Wade to see how she would react, and watched in silent sympathy as his friend gasped and her eyes filled with long overdue tears. "Kelly," she whispered. But Quinn knew that her shock would have to be dealt with later. Right now, they had a couple of doubles to deal with, and Quinn began to get angry at his own. I can't believe that I would be so closed-minded. He had to remind himself that this was not him, and a different life with different circumstances may have made the Quinn Mallory of this world less trusting than himself. He calmed himself down and attempted to get his double to understand. "Would you just stop and listen to me for a minute?" The other Quinn whirled. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say!" "You don't even know who I am! And the reason for that is because you can't listen to someone long enough for them to tell you!" His double swallowed an angry retort. "Fine. Go ahead. I'm listening." Quinn sighed. "What I'm going to tell you is hard to believe, but you have to try." He waited for some kind of affirmative, but all he got was an indifferent nod to go on. "We're not from this world. We live on a different Earth. There's an interdimensional vortex that we slide through to get from one world to another." An alarmed look crept over his double's face. The female with him, Kelly, gasped. "Quinn? How do they know—" He cut her off. "I don't know." Quinn watched them, bewildered. "You mean…you're sliders, too?" His double seemed to make an internal decision. "Sort of." The Professor's double spoke for the first time. "Mr. Mallory, I would advise against telling them too much. We still don't know for certain if they are telling the truth." Quinn's double seemed a little calmer than he had been before. "Maybe not. But we worked hard to keep this a secret, and I would almost be willing to bet my life that no one but us knows about it. Besides, their story makes sense. I mean, wasn't that the whole idea of sliding in the first place? And how else could...?" He left the end of the sentence up to his friends' imaginations. Kelly crossed her arms. She looked slightly frustrated, as though she was constantly trying to get Quinn's double to listen to her. I can imagine why, Quinn thought, thinking of the way his double had turned his back on him. "Quinn, they cannot be real. She..." Her voice trailed off, then came back. "She can't be real. It would make sense for them to be Shadow creatures, too. Don't you think it's convenient that they appeared right after one of Donovan's traps failed?" Kelly didn't seem to have any qualms about discussing her doubts in front of the people that she doubted, almost as though they didn't matter, or weren't really there. Quinn began to wonder what Kelly was talking about, why she thought that Wade shouldn't be there. Rembrandt looked her straight in the eye, not caring what she said as long as they could get her to trust them. No fooling around, he thought. First impressions are always lasting ones. "Look, I don't know what a Shadow creature is, but I think I can assure you that we are not it." The other Professor had been carefully listening to his Quinn's words, and he seemed to come to a conclusion. "Miss Welles, Mr. Mallory is right. And if they really are Shadow creatures, and they become hostile, there are only four of them. We have plenty of magic between us to deal with them." Quinn could see Rembrandt's jaw drop, and he suppressed a smile, although he was a little taken aback at the mention of magic himself. Rembrandt blinked and composed himself long enough to speak. "Whoa, whoa. What did you just say? Magic?" The Professor's double looked at him, irritated. "Of course. What did you think I said?" Quinn quickly stepped in. "We don't have magic on our world. It doesn't exist." His double looked worried. He turned to his own Arturo. "Sorcerer, maybe this sliding thing isn't such a good idea after all. We get our magic from the natural resources of the Earth. What if we end up on a world like theirs, without a source of magical energy? We'd be defenseless." "Mr. Mallory, I think we should show them the vortex," the other Arturo said. "They seem to know more about it than we do." Kelly spun on him. "Sorcerer! I can't believe you would suggest that. We should have let the wyvern kill them!" Rembrandt was agape at what he was hearing. "Now, wait a minute. We haven't done anything to you." She glared at him. "Oh, no?" Quinn's double saved Rembrandt from having to say something. "Kelly, if they can fix the problem with the vortex, we can be out of here without a trace, and we might be able to—" She cut off his words with a sharp glance. He sighed. "Donovan will never be able to find us again. Don't you get it?" Quinn digested something that his double had said earlier in the sentence with a jolt. "Wait. Wait a minute. Fix the vortex? What's wrong with it?" He remembered his double from another world who had had a "problem" with her vortex—Logan Mallory. And look where that had gotten them. They almost had not all made it to the vortex when the timer ran out, and Logan was still out there somewhere, trying to get home—just like they were. The only difference was that Quinn had the power to send her home, while no one could help them. At least, not yet. His double hesitated. "The Sorcerer's right. We'll explain it after you see the vortex." Kelly tried to protest again. "Quinn—" Quinn's counterpart shot her a hard look. "Kelly." The others could almost see sparks flying between them, and he sighed, turning to Quinn. "Come on." He turned and motioned for them to follow him down the path. They began to walk as the sky became darker with each minute, and by the time they got well into the woods, there was no sunlight left to the day. To Chapter 2!