A small television set in a store front window flickered on a news
report, which today took no ones notice, maybe because they experienced
very much all of its hell.
Thank you for watching MSNBCs news program Time and Again. Im your
host Jane Pauly. Today we are going to look back on one of Americas...
one of the Earths darkest hours, its total domination. It was only five
years ago that the strange morbid force known as the Kromaggs invaded
this planet, and today questions remain. Who were they really? Where
did they come from? We will examine these mysteries and everything else,
as we reflect on Invasion.
Five years ago, a warrior race of alternate humans known as the Kromaggs
invaded Earth, bringing chaos and carnage. My world was eventually
liberated; however, too late for my wife and child. With nothing left
for me on my world, I've committed myself to rediscovering the gateway
Quinn Mallory had years before, the gateway which lead to the
disappearance of he and three others. What if you could journey through
the multiverse? ...And what if those journeys made your hopes and
nightmares reality? The slide continues...
The enormous glass, metal, and concrete structure known as Cypris
Research Facility stood in the frantic Mecca of the metropolis, San
Francisco. The somewhat gusty wind seemed be sliced in two as it hit the
buildings sleek modern shape. Cypris partially stood as a monument of
sorts to the people of that city. One of the first structures erected
after the invasion. They were not to be unscathed by any hostile force.
Those people would fight their oppressors and not be compelled to
suppress their curiosities of the universe, but explore it.
Inside its depths were one among many scientists, John Cross. His eyes
squinted behind a pair of small wire frame glasses, as he concentrated on
a computer screen before him. The Carmel complexion of skin beaded with
micro sized drops of sweat as his mind grew more focused. Fascinating,
he murmured to himself. He gently entered a string of commands on the
computers keyboard, activating what seemed to be a previously recorded
scenario on the computers monitor. An image of John in a laboratory was
splashed on the screen, and in its right-hand corner read, March 3,
2003. The image began to speak. Through a series of seemingly endless
trials, my colleague and I have somehow... well its too amazing to
explain. With that, John recovered a small black sleek curved modern
looking device, which looked like a television remote control, from
behind his white lab coat. He began to fumble with the machines various
buttons, and then held it out before him. Space began to bend and
distort in the area where he had pointed the device. It folded in on
itself in a gross manner, soon forming a hole in space. Crimson ripples
seem to flare from the crystal red and black void. The image of John on
the monitor momentarily stared at the spectacle, and then straight ahead
again. My associate calls it a Spacial Locating Interdimensional
Exceleration window, SLIDE window for short. A brief hesitant look
smeared across his face as he seemed to reflect on his thoughts.
Gaining, and I use that term loosely, access to confidential records,
we have worked months trying to re-create the technology Quinn Mallory
had years before, and now it looks as if we have succeeded. ...And I
thought the Eienstien-Rosen Padolsky Bridghe was just a theory. My good
friend Professor Arturo and I have always debated that theory... God I
miss him. John's image holds out the small device; it gleams as it
catches the light of the vortex. This mechanism is the SLIDE device, or
timer. It allows one to travel, or slide, as my associate prefers to
call it, between dimensions, or that is the theory. Who knows what lies
on the other side of that thing? ...The last time I saw one of these
gates open.... John face was turned frustrated as he paused, and then
slowly continued. ...Anyhow, this device allows one to stay on a
certain world for a governed amount of time. This is one of the tricks
to this sliding, as well as not being able to control your
destination...”
John typed in a few more commands which ended the play back on the
monitor. “...Until now,” he said with a smile.
The young man’s medium length brown hair fluttered in the slight San
Fransico breeze as he stepped outside the airport’s entrance. It had been
a long time since he had been here; it was home yet it was completely
forgein to him. As his eyes scanned the street, his chiseled somewhat
squared face revealed that he could only be a man of his late twenties.
He carried a medium sized black leather bag; the man needed little in
material possessions. The young man always traveled lightly, that is,
during his experiences in Invasion. He waved out his hand, flagging
down a cab that slowly pulled in front of him. “Where too, comrade?”
the driver, a large Santa Clause looking man, said with a strange accent
the young man recognized as Russian.
“The Dominion...,” the young man said, but soon interrupted himself and
thought for a moment. “No the Chandler...,” yet again he paused to
think. “Take me to the Academy Hotel. I heard that they just built it
after the end of Invasion... think I’ll check it out,” he proclaimed as
he climbed into the cab, and soon drove off into the distance.
The 2000 midnight black Chrysler swept the street. Behind the wheel,
sat a young Asian woman. The radio was cranked on a pop/rock music
station, and blared loudly, drowning out the noise outside the little
world which was that car. Her elbow hung out of the opened window, which
allowed the gushing air to flood in. Her long raven hair flared,
catching that wind, occasionally flying in front of her smooth oval
shaped face, and obstructing her eyes which were hidden behind a small
pair of dark sun glasses. Her light pink colored lips moved in sync
along to the words of an old early ‘90’s song which she had heard a
thousand times. “Face it Donna, you can’t sing,” she said to herself as
she approached a stoplight in a large nearly abandoned intersection.
The car sat there purring as if it were a kitten. The shiny black
color, and the slick curved shape attracted a strange figure of a young
man nearby. He stood leaning against a parking sign at the cross walk,
wearing a pair of black pants, and leather boots, part of his white
shirt was hidden by a medium sized navy jacket. His eyes looked through
the streams of his shaggy sandy blonde hair, gazing on that car. The
young man began to walk out into the intersection.
Donna casually glanced in his direction, and stared back at the light.
To her, it seemed to take a lifetime for that light to change. She
continued to karioke to the song, humming it to herself, and at times,
murmuring certain words.
“Get out of the car!” a voice nearby ordered. Involved in her little
melody, she didn’t pay any attention. “Get out of the car, now!” the
voice persisted. Donna looked beside her, surprised at the voice.
Standing at the driver side was that young man, holding what could have
been a gun under his navy jacket. “You must be kidding,” Donna smirked.
Quickly, the young man opened the car door, and grabbed Donna by the arm.
Shocked, she literally fell out of the car, and onto the warm pavement.
“Get outta my way, bitch!” the young man, who looked to only be a
teenager, commanded as he pushed her out of his way, climbed into the
vehicle and soon after, sped off. Only one word, one phrase, summed up
the emotions Donna felt as she ascended from the ground, “Damn!”
A buzz rang out, signaling the opening of a door. Electric locks
unbolted themselves and it automatically opened. A young man in his late
twenties entered. His long raven hair, which lay over his shoulders,
dark shades, his torn jeans and dark colored shirt all gave the man a
grundy appearance, far from the appearance a man of science, such as he,
would portray.
“Bennish,” John said, “We need to make certain that the SLIDE device has
the ability to scan the interdimensional plane, giving us the ability to
pick our own destination, and most importantly, store coordinates. My
work here has concluded that our work has paid off, everything appears to
be in order.” Maybe you should be doing this, eh, Conrad. After all, it
was you who came to me with the idea of re-discovering Sliding. ...you
laid the ground work.”
“Me, no, no, man, I hate to admit it, but my pal Quinn did that.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter now. What matters is that we continue keeping
all this hidden from Cypris. If they find out who knows what’ll happen.”
“Dude, you worry too much, besides this isn’t their technology we’re
using any way,” Bennish replied.
“Try telling Cypris that. ...speaking of the famous Quinn Mallory, you
know what we have to do,” John claimed. “The timer has got the ability
to track worm holes; we made sure of that.”
“With this confiscated Magg technology it most definitely should have
that ability,” Bennish said. “...anyway, I think it is about time we pay
a little visit to the awesome Mallory home.”
The young man stepped into the Academy Hotel’s bar, quickly occupying a
lone stool at the far end of the bar table. He wanted to think.
“What will you have?” the bartender asked approaching him as he wiped a
glass clean.
“A beer,” he mumbled.
The bartender grabbed one from behind the counter, took off its cap, and
placed it in front of the young man in moments. He took hold of it,
examining the bottle. “...cold, just like this beer,” he mumbled to
himself.
“What did you say?” the bartender asked.
“Nothing.”
“Looks as if you got problems.”
“You could say that. You know, it’s good to see San Fransico.”
“It’s good to see anything, after Invasion. I was in a Maggot labor
camp for over a year before the resistance freed me. Those were hard
times.”
The young man took a sip of his beer.
“The name’s Ed,” the bartender said.
“Nice to meet you,” the young man paused, then spoke. “Hard times, I
know a little about hard times. Hey, I know some hard people. That’s why
I came back to San Fransico, to hopefully settle old feelings.”
Throwing down a couple of dollars, the young man retrieved himself from
his seat, and walked from the bar.
“I wish you luck, fella,” the Ed said.
Donna stood inside the police station, clutching a phone to her ear. “I
can’t believe this,” she said. A moment later, a voice she had expected
answered.
“Bennish,” the male voice greeted.
“You won’t believe this, Conrad,” Donna blurted. “Some kid stole mycar.”
“Are you all right, are you hurt?” Bennish replied.
“No, not physically anyway. Damn it, I really loved that car!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, baby. If it makes you feel any better, I hope they catch that little snot!”
“Oh, Bennish, I feel better already hearing that come from you,” Donna said through a small smile.
“I knew it would. John, and I are on our way to run an arin, why don’t
you come with us. I need to see for myself if my baby’s all right.”
Hesitant, she answers, “Well, I guess so. I’m not doing anything right
now anyway.”
Donna’s black chrysler fled along the street. Behind the wheel, the
young teen who had stolen it. “What’s with this weak sound?” he said to
himself, suddenly noticing the music. He switch the radio station and
began to blare the music even louder. “Now that’s the cut!” The car
dodged many vehicles and pedestrians, and nearly hit a young man who made
his way from the Academy Hotel nearby and was crossing the street.
“You idiot!” he yelled out as the car continued on it’s seemingly
irritate course.
The car screeched through red lights and stop signs, as if it had a mind
of its own. The teen grew more focused on his wild chaotic music, not
even noticing a police cruiser in the near distance. It’s sirens were
drowned from the earsplitting stereo. Intuition made the young man glare
into the rear view mirror, catching a glimpse of flashing red and blue
lights, and the speeding chasing cop car.
“Oh Damn!” he shouted in surprise, and stomped on the gas in a reflex.
The teen kept hold of the wheel, trying to keep the car steady, as it
gain more speed, and swayed from side to side. Time seemed to go as
quickly as that vehicle; unexpectedly, the teen and the officer were
speeding through a residential community.
“I gotta do something...” Just after the young man spoke, the car gave
out a shrilling screech and rammed into a telephone poll. Moments seemed
like hours as the young man climbed out of the car and bolted through
various yards, hurling himself over fences, and around barking dogs.
Exhausted, he made it to one large home. An over grown bush had
blanketed a “For Sale” sign in the front yard. The weakened teen made
his way to the back, and kicked out a small medium high window, which he
quickly climbed through. He was safe.
The young man got his bearings from almost meeting death himself. He
wondered how fools could be allowed on the road, as he crossed the street
and climbed in a cab that was waiting for him. The driver was the same
large man as before.
“You again, comrade.” he said.
“Small world.” the young man professed.
“Where to this time?”
Without a second thought the young man just told the cabby to “drive”.
He’d know when they’d get there. With that, the cab yet again headed
towards its mysterious destination.
John’s car slowly pulled in front of a large gray painted home, and came
to a stop. He, Bennish, and Donna climbed from it, and approached the
small wooden fence. Leading, John unlocked its small latch and pushed at
the fence’s entrance. The gate gave out a high pitched squeak, like a
baby’s wail, and the three entered the yard, made their way along the
walkway, and onto the wide open porch.
Donna instinctively knocked on the pain glass door.
“What are you doing?” Bennish asked.
“Knocking, thought someone had to do it,” she replied. “Is that so
weird?”
“Nobody lives here, Donna. Old lady Mallory moved out right after
Invasion and put this place up for sale.”
“So, what...,” she suddenly froze as she was hit with a sudden
realization. “You’re not going to break in here, are you?” Donna
inquired.
“That’s the plan,” John added. “So, should we break the window or pick
the lock?”
Bennish pulled off his shirt, revealing only a simple plain T-shirt. He
wrapped the shirt around his fist, broke one of the panes of glass out,
unlocked the door, and opened it.
“Lock picking is for losers,” Bennish said.
“This is your idea of an arin, guys?” Donna questioned as they entered
the house.
Shadowy darkness covered the house along with layers of dust. Only
small pieces of furniture sat about, and were covered by white sheets. A
lifetime ago this house held a loving family. A family head by a decent
hardworking man, and a caring consoling housewife. Now, the gothic look
it had now, only reflected the pain that family has endured.
“What a big house,” Donna said. “You’re friend Quinn, lived here once?”
“Yeah.” Bennish said somberly as the group made their way around a
corner.
“You guys never told me what we are doing here.”
“Uh... work.” John spoke.
“Work?” Donna voiced.
Stretched out along a dusty raggedy couch, the young teen eyes search,
as he became alerted to noises nearby. The dreary cold appearance
revealed that he was obviously in a basement. Without a second thought,
he mounted from the couch, soon making his way towards a large metal
Cabinet. Acting quickly, he jammed himself in the small place, as if he
were being squeezed into a high school locker.
Bennish and the others climbed down the steps, and into the basement.
Its chilled blasted them abruptly.
The cab reached the Mallory home, and pulled behind John’s parked car.
“Great, she’s home,” the young man said, thinking the car was of someone
else he was expecting, paying the cabby his fee, and exiting the cab.
“Have a good day, young fellow,” the cabby said with a smile, and drove
off.
“What’s down here?” Donna said, as they crept further into the basement,
exploring it.
John took out the same small device as he did before in the recording,
the timer.
“Nothing.” Bennish said. “...Nobody’s life anyway. Look at this place,
it was once full of scientific equipment. This was Quinn’s home away
from home in his home.”
“What happened to it?” Donna said frowning as she wiped a layer of dust
from a table nearby and examined it in disgust.
“After he disappeared, the FBI showed up and confiscated everything as
evidence,” Bennish explained. “They questioned me about all kinds of
things, but I wasn’t goining to tell them nothing.”
The teenage boy peered at the three people, and wondered what they were
doing here. “Is this there home?” he questioned to himself. “How am I
going to get outta here?”
“Let’s get ready,” John said as he held the timer out.
“Hey, what that thing?” Donna asked.
“Long story, and too complicated.” Bennish replied.
John manipulated the timers various buttons and controls, and a small
thin laser flew from it, like a beam of light from a flashlight. He
moved the timer around, walking throughout the basement, letting the
laser strike every inch of it’s atmosphere.
“We’re trying to locate, and lock onto the original Slide signature that
Quinn Mallory’s vortex made when he and the others disappeared,” John
said.
“...We were thinking that if we do that, maybe we can find out where
they are, and uncover the mystery of what has happened to them.” Bennish
said.
“Slide signature... vortex?” Donna said.
“I told you it’s too complica...” Bennish stopped interrupted by a
sudden sound.
“Hello!” the young man yelled, as he entered the Mallory home. “Anyone
home?”
He took a good look around, realizing no one lived in the house for
quite a time. “Someone must be in here,” he thought. Walking around a
corner, he noticed a partially opened door, and entered the dark
entrance.
“Someone’s coming!” Donna said, but before they could react, the young
man had made his way into the basement, and was staring strangely at the
three.
“Who are you?” he questioned.
“Uh... we might ask you the same thing, man,” Bennish replied.
“I’m looking for Mrs. Mallory, Quinn Mallory’s mother.” the young man
replied.
“She’s not here, obviously.”
“I assume you know her, so if you see her tell her that Ian Arturo is
looking for her.”
“Arturo?!” Bennish said shocked.
“You know the name?” Ian replied.
“Yeah, any relation to Maxy Arturo?”
“What do you know about my father?”
“Arturo, he’s one of the three missing along with Quinn,” Donna said.
“That man is his father. We have to tell him, Bennish.”
“Quite, Donna.” Bennish remarked.
“What do you know about my father’s disappearance? Tell me what I need
to know!”
“You know too much already.” John added.
“Don’t tell me what I need to know!”
Donna inadvertently looked at the timer, which John continue to hold.
Ian noticed her frustrated stare, and gazed at the device also.
“Is this thing responsible for my father’s disappearance?” he said
rushing towards John and grabbing the timer.
“Be careful, man!” Bennish angrily cried.
“Answer me!”
Seeing the pain in Ian’s eyes, Donna spoke, “I- I think so, I don’t
know.”
“Can this thing get my father back?!” Ian rang fumbling with the devices
controls.
“Don’t do that!” John said, but before he or any one else could do
anything, a scarlet and black vortex erupted with great force. The void
immediately pulled all four in.
The young teen watched the scene in amazement, his eyes still lock onto
the ruby spectacle which was the vortex, after the four disappeared in
it. He crept from out of the cabinet, and approached the spacial whirl
pool. His eyes widened in curiosity, as his hair was blown back from the
gust it produced.
“Unreal,” the teen spoke as he was also sucked into the mysterious void.
TO BE CONTINUED...