Disclaimer: I don't own Sliders or its characters. This is a non-profit story. Please don't sue

Rated PG-13

The girl had been in the basement for days, struggling against the bonds that held her chained fast to the dank, foul-smelling wall. Her long brown hair lay matted to her face in tangled clumps. Her face and body were covered with grime. The first day had been terrifying, but now that it was getting on towards the fourth, the sound of mice scurrying by her bare feet had ceased to worry her. The spiders spinning their treacherous webs above her head no longer made her feel ill either. She was numb to it all. Numb to the reality of this dark and cold room...and numb to the fact that any escape from this room would be no comfort. For escape really only meant a teasing slice of freedom, a slap of life in her face before they killed her. And they were going to kill her. There was no doubt about that. It was simply a matter of when.

"Thou art an evil man Brother Thomas!" she yelled out shrilly. The scream came out of deep despair. She knew he couldn't hear her. And even if he could, it wouldn't have made a difference anyway.

"Haven't you finished yet?" teased Diana. She and Remmy were in a Karaoke bar called Sams. The place was a real dive, but with Remmy there with her, Diana felt comfortable. She giggled. "You've already sung four times."

"Girl," Remmy said with a wink at her. "I am just getting started."

"No, you are finished Mr. Brown," boomed the familiar clipped accent of the Professor from across the room. The big man strode up to the two of them and surveyed the surroundings in distaste. "We have 10 minutes to the slide. I say, couldn't you at least have picked a place where they serve a decent sherry?"

Diana shrugged. Despite her wealth of physics knowledge, being in the presence of Maximillan Arturo was intimidating. "He wanted to sing," she said in way of explanation.

"Ah!" said the Professor with a grin. "And a damned fine voice he has my dear." His eyes twinkled. "Did he ever tell you about the time he sang with himself?"

Remmy groaned. "Don't get me started about that backstabbing jerk Professor," he said. But inside he felt a deep sense of comfort. It was nice to be with the man who had lived all those adventures with him. He loved the big lout, and had missed him terribly over the past two years.

"Backstabbing jerk?" said Diana, looking from one face to the other.

"Never mind," mumbled Remmy. "It's a long story, and not particularly worth telling."

"Well then," said Diana, getting up from the table. "I guess we should go meet Quinn?" Neither man noticed it, but a shadow fell across her face for a moment. Diana cared deeply for Remmy, and she respected Quinn and the Professor, but sometimes she wondered why she had chosen to keep sliding rather than staying on Mallory and Colin's homeworld. She missed Mallory, and she didn't always feel at home with the two "older" sliders. But she shrugged off the emotion quickly. Diana didn't care for dwelling.

Quinn Mallory was standing in the Chandler hotel lobby staring out at the afternoon sky. He held his hands behind his back, and breathed a large sigh. Quinn felt much older than his 26 years. His blue eyes stared into nothingness as a face popped in his memory. *Her* face. Not a day went by when he didn't think of it. Not a second went by when he didn't berate himself for losing her.

A jaunt through the universe. It had been a game that September day. A challenge thrown out by his dearest friend in the world. Who could have known the tragedy and heartbreak that beautiful blue whirlpool was destined to cause? He knew one thing though. He would never stop sliding. Not until he found her. And if she was gone...well, his life would be pretty meaningless anyway. Quinn sighed again. He tried to have hope for the future, to believe in Remmy. But sometimes he lost faith that Wade was still alive. It was those times that he needed quiet time to sort his thoughts out. If he didn't have it, he couldn't have faced another day. The guilt would have crushed him.

Remmy led the Professor and Diana from the bar back into the Chandler lobby. He spied Quinn looking out the window and shot a look to the Professor which the older man returned in kind.

"Hey Q-ball man!" Remmy said loudly. If Quinn was crying, which Remmy had caught him doing quite a few times when the boy hadn't been looking, Remmy wanted him to have plenty of time to wipe his eyes.

But Quinn turned around and his face was dry. "That time already huh?" he said.

Diana glanced at her PDL. "What do you want to log this world as?" she asked, staring intently at the display.

"Bad sherry world," the Professor remarked dryly.

Diana looked at him.

"He's kidding girl!" said Remmy with a smirk.

"Oh!" said Diana sheepishly.

"How about Time Capsule World," said Quinn, nodding to the plaque on the floor that proudly proclaimed: "Time Capsule: Not to be opened until the year 3000."

"They must have had a huge millennium celebration on this world or something," he said thoughtfully. "Those things are everywhere."

"Quite," said the Professor. "And the fools think that future men will be interested in their dirty socks eh my boy?" he chuckled heartily.

Quinn smiled in response. "They might be," he said softly.

"Oh man," said Remmy with a smirk. "Talk about losing one sock in the laundry..."

The Professor pulled out the timer with a flourish as it started to beep. "Or in the vortex," he commented. He pressed the button and a whooshing sound filled the room. High winds rustled the four sliders hair as a bluish white ripple formed out of seeming nothingness in the sky.

Rembrandt ran towards it with a resounding leap, and the other three followed shortly.

A man stood before her on the podium. His dress was the black clothes of a Reverend. He waved his arms theatrically in time to his shouts. "Townsfolk of Saint Francis. Ye see here before thine own eyes Sister Wade Kathleen Welles. What say ye to the charges of witchcraft?"

Brother Thomas was good at rousing the crowd, she thought numbly. She wondered if she would feel much pain from the flames licking her flesh. Or would God let her mercifully suffocate first? She prayed it would be so. "Merciful lord," she thought to herself. "Save me from the pain." She was brave, but she didn't want the death to be agony. Better a single blow than that.

The faces before her swarmed into an angry mob and then broke apart. Most were hateful. One or two were guilty. A few were horrified. But the voices all blended as one.

"Guilty!"

"Guilty!"

"Burn the witch!"

"She feasts on babes!"

"Kill her!"

With a flourish, Brother Thomas pointed towards her as he stood with flaming torch in hand.

Wade prayed for a quick end. The sunlight had been blinding when they led her out of the cellar to stand on the podium. Too weak to put up much of a fight, she had clawed and scratched at her captors feebly. It was like she was trying to put the effort in her mind into her starving, dehydrated body. For they had not fed or given her much to drink for the last four days. Which is why when, standing on the podium waiting for them to tie her to the witches pole, she wasn't shocked to see a blue ripple form in the sky. She been hallucinating already hadn't she?

It was the screams of "Witchcraft!" and "Lucifer!" which made her focus.

The ripple warped the air and filled it with a rushing wind. Wade felt fear grip her heart. "What is this unnatural thing?" she whispered with a dry mouth. The townsfolk that had come to see her burn began to scatter, and screams filled the air. Brother Thomas tried desperately to retain control.

"Blessed are we!" he said sternly above the rising winds. "For we are an example to the godlessness below our happy city! Do not be discouraged by the darkness! For we can always expect the fierce opposition and hatred of Satan. Observe the sovereignty of God! Christ will reign until all his enemies become his footstool!"

Rembrandt was the first the project out of the wormhole. He came out flailing, straight into Brother Thomas.

Diana was next, and she missed the podium, and landed in the grass just before it. Following shortly thereafter came the Professor, who landed with an "oomph!" against the side of the podium and slid back into the grass next to Diana.

Quinn was last, and he landed right next to the terrified Wade, who was screaming as the torch went flailing across the podium and struck right where she was tied, lighting the podium on fire.

"Satan's minions!" hissed Brother Thomas as Rembrandt got up, and took a quick glance around. "Oh boy," he said, "Q-ball we're in for it now!" He looked so quickly, he didn't recognize the smallish figure that was tied near where the flames were beginning to spread.

"Fire Mr. Mallory!" shouted the Professor, backing away from the podium.

"Let's get out of here!" said Diana. She could see a group of strangely dressed people approaching them menacingly. The men wore buckled shoes and breeches with tights. And they didn't look too pleased at the sliders' arrival.

Quinn looked up and coughed from the smoke. He was standing on the podium, which was now lit up with flames.

Screams were coming from his right, and as he looked, slightly disoriented, he felt his heart jump into his throat. "Oh God...Wade?"

The girl looked at him with a blank, terrified expression and continued to scream. Her hands were tied to the podium! He rushed against the flames to get to her.

"Q-ball, what are you..." began Remmy, but he stopped and stared as he saw the girl that Quinn was hell bent on going after. "Oh my God..." he whispered.

A blow to the head hit him from behind, knocking him unconscious.

"Remmy!" Diana screamed and she rushed towards him, where Brother Thomas stood triumphantly.

"Diana no!" shouted the Professor, but he was soon occupied in fighting off the men that were surrounding him.

Quinn untied the shivering girl, and swiftly picked her up in his arms. He winced as she continued to scream.

"Professor!" he cried out. "Remmy! Diana!" It was getting impossible to see anything in the billowing smoke.

"Here," came the panting, thunderous voice of the Professor from below. "Run my boy! Run!"

Quinn didn't need to be told twice. Under the cover of the smoke, he followed the Professor, with his trembling bundle in his arms as they dodged the queerly dressed men, and ran through the dusty city streets.

"Remmy! Remmy you've got to wake up!"

The voice seemed to come from vaguely above as clouds drifted over his skull.

"Remmy please!"

The voice sounded scared now. It was one he definitely recognized. But waking up meant pain...he felt that as he grew closer and closer to consciousness. But the voice was insistent. It called him without mercy.

Blearily Remmy opened his eyes.

To see total darkness.

Then a face he knew came wavering in and out of focus. "Diana?" he croaked. "Where are we?"

Diana Davis had been crouched over her friend for the better part of an hour. She glanced around them and patted his shoulder. "In a big mess of trouble," she sighed. She shivered. "I'm scared. I don't like it here," she thought. Claustrophobia was starting to set in and she tried to take a deep breath.

"When is that ever different than usual?" muttered Remmy as he groaned and sat up, rubbing his head. "Where the devil are we?"

The room was small and enclosed with no windows. It smelled dirty, and he could distinctly hear the sounds of scurrying feet. He sucked in his breath. Last thing he knew, he'd been on that crazy stand next to that preacher guy...and then the blackness...

"We're in some kind of basement," said Diana. She scuttled over and huddled near him, clutching his arm.

"Those people..." he said uncertainly. "They looked like Pilgrims. And there was a girl...I could have sworn..."

Diana's face hardened. She couldn't think straight. All she knew was she didn't want to be here. The people who had forced her into this room were without a shred of compassion. They were utterly of one mind...it was almost eerie. And when she had screamed at them to let them go, all they had done was quote from the Bible. "These people are crazy Remmy!" she said in a strained voice that was beginning to sound panicked. "They knocked you out, and then they grabbed me...Remmy we've got to get out! Please...I don't like the dark!"

Remmy put an arm around Diana's shoulder as she shuddered and tried to bury herself into his chest. "Ssh girl," he soothed. "It'll be all right. The Professor and Quinn must've got away...they'll know what to do..."

"I hope," he added silently to himself.

Quinn stared in silence at the girl he carried in his arms. She was so weak she had fainted with exhaustion or perhaps fright while they dodged the men in the small square which the platform had occupied. Feelings of guilt and remorse washed over him as he watched her face. Was his own Wade in as much pain someplace? She was haggard...

The Professor motioned Quinn into a shadowy corner and cleared his throat. He, too, was affected by the sight of the face of the girl he had once thought of as a daughter, wrapped in these backward rags. "We will have to find a place to hide her and then go back for Rembrandt and Diana," he said in an authoritative voice. "God only knows what those savages have planned for them." The Professor bristled as he remembered the sticks and fists that had assaulted them as they stood under the platform.

Quinn watched him with serious, strained eyes, and the Professor put a hand on his young friend's shoulder and said kindly, "You do know that she's not our Wade...Quinn."

Quinn blinked and nodded sadly. For a moment he had hoped...but then he had seen the blank stare she had given him as he rescued her from the flames. "It doesn't matter," he said rather hoarsely. "I can only hope that somewhere someone is helping our Wade..."

"Since I abandoned her," his mind finished for him, mocking his real grief and hidden pain.

"Yes, well my boy...that's what we all hope," said the Professor. He looked away for a moment, then refocused. "As I said before, we had better find a place to hide her."

"Where do you think we can put her?" said Quinn anxiously. "This town is overrun with those ignorant people. And they were gonna kill her Professor!" Quinn shook his head and stared around at the wooden, old fashioned buildings and dirt and cobblestone roads that surrounded them. "This whole place is like a time warp."

The Professor considered this strange world, his finger thoughtfully placed upon his chin. "Mr. Mallory, are you familiar with colonial history?" he said musingly.

"Some," admitted Quinn. "I always liked modern history better..."

"Well then," said the Professor, taking a quick glance along the street to ensure they were still alone, "you may know something about a group of people called the Puritans."

"Sure," said Quinn. "Puritans were the group of settlers that came to America from England in the late 1600's." He managed a grin. "The whole reason Mom used to cook such great turkeys every year..."

"Hmmph...foolish American tradition," conceded the Professor with a roll of his eyes. He nodded morosely. "The Puritans were a rather fanatical group," he said. "They wanted King James I to 'purify' the state church of England of certain ceremonies and usages derived from the Roman Catholic church. A famous joke about them states that 'they objected to bear baiting, not because of the pain to the bear, but because of the pleasure to the spectators.'"

Quinn put two and two together. "So you think we've landed in a colony of Puritans? But how? That was in the 1600's!"

"Perhaps the sun's gravitational axis rotates differently here. Or the dark ages lasted longer. I don't know my boy," said the Professor. "But there is one thing that is vitally important to know if we have indeed landed in a Puritanical colony."

"Which is?" said Quinn.

The Professor nodded at the ragged bundle asleep in Quinn's arms, and Quinn's face went white. "They were an extremely religious and narrow minded group. And they were prone to 'witch' burnings...poor innocent victims who probably didn't do a damn thing except offend the church leaders or live out of the norm in some way. Hundreds of thousands of people were tried and convicted of witchcraft, and many were executed. Blistering, superstitious idiots."

"And Remmy and Diana are still there..." said Quinn tightly.

"Which is why we've got to find...her...a safe place as soon as possible." said the Professor.

Wade woke slowly, as though it had all been some horrible dream. "Mayhap this is heaven?" she thought groggily. There were strong arms around her. They held her tightly as though she were some precious ornament too dear to let go. Her eyes fluttered open slowly to see blue eyes staring at her.

Wade let out a startled gasp and struggled. It was the man from the portal in the sky! "Lucifer!" she whispered. "Thou shalt have no power over me!"

Quinn was rather shocked as she began to struggle in his arms. His face fell for a moment and he looked at her strangely. For a moment she thought she saw sorrow in his face and her fears subsided...but they kicked in again as he spoke. "Ssh! Wade," he said quietly. "It's all right...we won't hurt you."

"Let me go!" she responded. "How dost thou, a stranger, know my name if thou art not truly the Devil's servants?"

"Well that's kind of a long story," stammered Quinn as she began to softly pray. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil..."

Quinn looked helplessly at the Professor. How to convince her?

"Miss Welles," boomed the Professor in frustrated irritation. "Enough of this religious drivel. We are here to help you!"

Quinn let Wade go gently, but she did not run away. She was too weak and she half fell where she stood, and looked at the professor and himself with frightened eyes. "Help me?" she repeated softly.

"Were you or were you not about to be burned at the stake?" said the Professor in rather a gruffer tone than he intended. It was unnerving him to see this pitiful creature quote Bible passages in fear when he remembered the spunk and open mind of their own Wade Welles.

Wade looked proud and haughty for a moment. "I am no witch," she stated firmly.

The Professor almost chuckled. "Now that look is more like our own Miss Welles...wherever she may be..." he thought.

"We believe you," responded Quinn, an honest expression of sincerity in his eyes.

Wade looked at them closely. "Thou art the men who rescued me from the flames?" she said hesitantly.

"Yes," said Quinn nodding his head. At last they were getting somewhere.

"There were more of thee...who came from the sky," she said in a small voice, now looking at them in wonderment. "Thou art angels then!"

The words from her lips felt ironic and painful to Quinn. "Just people," he said quietly, a sweeping anguish throwing him for a moment.

She watched him with suddenly sympathetic eyes. "There is some great sorrow in this man," she thought to herself. She didn't know why, but she felt inclined to trust these two. They may have disclaimed from being from heaven, but their rescue of her had been God sent. She put a hand on his arm and looked at him. "I thank ye for saving my life," she said simply.

"Miss Welles," said the larger man with kind brown eyes. "Our friends were trapped back in the square by the man on the stand with you...and his flunkies"

"Brother Thomas," Wade finished for him quietly. She looked tired. "He is not a good man." She surveyed them with a glance. "Ye will need help if thou art to rescue thy friends." She suddenly realized that they were on Lombard street, too close to the town square for safety. "Thou canna not stay here," she said in a worried tone. "They will send the nightwatchmen to roam the city within an hour."

"Is there some place we can go for the help we need?" asked Quinn.

Wade nodded. "I know of a safe house in our neighboring city of Berkeley. Thou must go there."

The church offices were rather small and plain looking. The walls were bare, and the air musty. Brother Thomas sat behind his creaky wooden desk overviewing some papers. He wore a black suit with a white collar, denoting his status as a messenger of God in the city. The latest funds for the church had just come in. It was time to parcel them out as usual...

The Reverand's thoughts darkened. It had been the devil's intervention today on behalf of Sister Welles...he was sure of it. No other force could have turned her from the path to hell that she had rightfully earned. And what to do with the devils that had been captured?

His mind said to burn them, but part of him wondered if that would work for these supernatural creatures who had come from the sky. He was unsure, and that was a feeling he didn't take kindly to. He was going to need help from other members of the church. Which is why he had decided to call a town meeting together tonight.

He smirked. Yes. Let the townspeople think they had the power to decide their own fates for a bit. It was a set back, but it would work to strengthen his leadership position among them. His thoughts took a severely blacker turn. If Wade Welles was foolish enough to return to Saint Francis and challenge that position again, well...the flames would be too good for her.

Rembrandt hadn't wanted to admit it to Diana, but he was frightened. "I don't even know how much time we got on this world," he thought with a grimace.They'd been captured so fast, he'd never even gotten a look at the timer. They could already be stuck here...

"No man, don't think like that," he thought, trying to reassure himself. "Those two eggheads will come through. They always do."

Beside him, Diana whimpered softly in her sleep on the hard, dank, dirt floor.

"Brothers of our holy township!" came the resounding voice of Brother Thomas from behind the church podium where he presided like a vulture circling his prey.

"We have come together this evening to discuss the heathen that have infected our city like wildfire," continued Brother Thomas. He paused his sermonizing to examine the faces of the men before him. A few appeared frightened, the rest simply serious. It was important to instill to fear in all of them before they came to a vote.

A group of 10 men sat in the hard wooden pews that were built into the planks of the church floor. They were the leaders of the Puritan-controlled city of Saint Francis. It was they who came up with the laws and ordinances that ruled the day to day operations of the city. It was also this group who determined which citizens were criminals or under the influence of the devil. Brother Thomas, as the reverend, was their leader. But there was also Brother Andrews, the mayor, Brother Christianson, the chief watchman, and numerous other important personages. "And all of them are getting a fare portion of the profits from our little deal with the British commonwealth," thought Brother Thomas. But that didn't mean they would all stay loyal. No. The foundation of the colony still had strong ties. Ties that failed to appreciate the troubles of this day and age, thought Brother Thomas. It was a never ending struggle, which required him to invoke the power he held in the church offices. A necessary sacrifice. And one that no stupid snippet of a girl was going to ruin it for him. There was too much at stake.

It was for this reason in particular that Wade Welles was such a troubling woman.

And now these new...people...that had caused her escape. They had to be disposed of. Brother Thomas pushed the image of the vortex far from his mind. He had to be fearless to inspire fear in others.

The wooden ferry creaked mercilessly in the choppy Pacific's night waters. Quinn took a furtive glance at the timer and blew out his breath. Only two days here, he thought with a grimace. He had to hope that would be enough time to save Remmy and Diana from whatever fate might have in store for them in the hands of those...people.

Quinn had never believed in time travel, so he did not find it shocking that the sheer divergence of this world's time line from his own had him totally unnerved. That alone however, would not have caused the uncertainty and irrationality that seemed to blow over him as easily as the sea spray was at this very moment blowing across the bay. No...the cause of that discomfort wore a human face. A face that had once meant the world to him...

Quinn pushed his thoughts away. It did no good to dwell when there were lives in his care. "Besides," a little voice whispered, "she's not your Wade remember. For all you know, she could be evil, like that one on youth world..." But shaking his head, Quinn denied that hypothesis. He couldn't stand to think that way. Not about her. Not anymore.

"I think I may be ill," moaned the Professor as he sat on one of the wet wooden benches the ferry provided. The man rowing the ferry wore a hat that protected his rough features, marred with uneven whiskers from the wind and the wet. Quinn wished he had the same. The ferry man rowed the flattened raft with a long tapered pole. The small edges of the craft did little to protect it's occupants from the chill night waters.

The Professor sighed roughly as he watched the shivering bundle of this world's Miss Welles sitting by the raft's only protective wall. "The girl is wearing rags," he thought, and a fierce sensation of protection washed over him, making him vaguely uncomfortable. "Damn it man," he thought in half irritation, "you don't even know the girl." But even as he thought that, he was half walking, half crawling awkwardly over to where she sat and handing her his jacket.

"Here...take this," he said in a hoarse sounding voice.

Wade looked up at the elder man and blinked in surprise. "I...I thank ye," she said in a small voice. She wrapped the coat around her and it dwarfed her small frame.

Professor Arturo cleared his throat, and managed to crawl back over to sit by Quinn. He saw where Quinn's eyes kept heading and swiftly changed the subject. "This makes the traffic back home seem good eh my boy?" he said with a rueful chuckle. He ran his big hands over his arms which were now only clad in a thin dress shirt.

But Quinn wasn't about to be distracted. "Wade," he said softly.

She looked up into his blue eyes. They were so luminous and full of emotion that she caught her breath. She shyly blinked and her face flushed. It wasn't proper to stare at a man that way.

"Yes?" she answered as she stared at the floor.

Much to the Professor's discomfort, Quinn moved over and crawled to a position near her. The Professor shook his head slightly. he was worried about the boy.

Quinn looked at her strangely. "I need to ask you something," he said quickly, almost too quickly. The words came out in a tumble.

She watched him, and her heart beat a little too fast for her own composure. "What is it?" she said hastily. The wind was dying down now, making it a little easier to hear. They were almost to port. She had failed the Tolerance movement, but at least she was alive. It was more than most could boast in her position. "Thanks to them," she thought. These strange men with their equally strange companions. Their dress was strange...even their speech differed from her own. She didn't care how much they denied it. She knew. They were not of this world. Angels in human garb. Quinn Mallory and Professor Maximillian Arturo were simply the names they simply went by. She had decided that soon after they had first saved her. And it made her more than a little nervous. Not to mention his eyes. Something about the pain in his eyes.

The boat landed with a thud against the dank, moldy smelling dock. Quinn stood up, then held out a hand to help her up and out of the craft. The Professor grumbled in a low voice as he picked his way out of the raft behind them. "I'd forgotten the indignities of sliding...." he said to himself, noting that his leather shoes were now caked with mud.

Quinn walked slightly ahead of him, supporting Wade gently with an offered arm which she accepted, albeit hesitantly. Her long hair hung in dirty tangled heaps down her back. She pushed it away from her face with a soft sigh. "I must look a sight..." she thought and instantly regretted it. Who was she to be vain? She was lucky to be alive.

"What question didst thou need to ask, Quinn?" she said with a demure expression that masked how confused she really felt.

Quinn blinked and sighed. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to," he said gently. "But...those people back there...why did they want to hurt you?"

Wade felt tears coming to her eyes and she blinked fiercely. "Because..." she said hoarsely. He watched her with a concerned gaze and she nodded that she did want to tell him. "Because the men of our faithful city have become corrupted."

"Corrupted?" inquired the Professor from behind them.

Wade sighed softly. "They are in league with the British Commonwealth. They wish to reconquer our colony. Saint Francis is an important port city."

"Yes," murmured the Professor. "Yes of course."

Quinn looked confused for a moment. "But what does that have to do with you?" he said.

Wade looked slightly embarrased. "I am a member of the Tolerance Party," she said. "And we have evidence against the men. A treaty, signed by Brother Thomas himself."

That name rang a bell for Quinn and as he looked over at the Professor, he could see it resonated with him as well. He remembered reading about the group, and a woman leader from it named Anne Hutchinson. Anne Hutchinson had believed in the freedom to express beliefs, away from the confines of the established church in England. However, there was no religious freedom at all at the time except to agree with the doctrines set forth by the Puritan church there. This denial of freedom of religion to others by the Puritans was ironic in light of the fact that dissenters were merely declining to conform to the Puritans, as the Puritans had declined to conform to the Church of England. Back home, Anne and her group had been banished from the colony. If Wade was a member of this same party, it was understandable why they were based in Berkeley. And if what she claimed about the religious leaders in "Saint Francis" actually happened, it would mean the squelching of the first uprisings of religious freedom in the Americas. Quinn shuddered. Suddenly there was a lot more riding on this slide than just the fate of his friends.

How long had they been down here? Rembrandt wasn't really sure. It felt like forever, but in reality it was probably more like three or four hours. He'd been over every inch of the basement/cell. There were no windows, and as far as he could tell the only door had been blocked by some kind of heavy object from the outside.

He had been sitting here, watching Diana sleep for some time now. He felt useless. It wasn't a sensation the Crryin' man enjoyed having. "Well," he thought with a resigned sigh. "at least I got her calmed enough to sleep."

These people were crazy, he thought with a resigned sigh. They had to get out of here and fast. Who knew what those buclke shoed freaks had in store for them? Remembering the witches burning they had inadvertantly interrupted, Remmy had a good idea.

Diana sighed softly as she opened her eyes to total darkness. She squinted to herself and shivered. "Still here huh?" she said shakily, rubbing the goosebumps that lined her arms. She fought down the claustrophobia that had so paralyzed her a few hours before.

"Unfortunately," replied Remmy with a sigh. "The door's blocked, and I can't see a damn thing."

Diana thought for a moment. The buckled shoes, the breeches...the..."ew...yuck"...witch burnings. All of it pointed to a conclusion she wasn't sure she was willing to accept. Had they traveled back in time? "Don't be ridiculous," she thought hastily. "Prior evidence all points to the contrary. Thousands of slides and not one actually back in time. Simply worlds with different *timelines*."

"I have an idea," said Diana suddenly.

"An idea?" said Remmy incredulously.

"These people...they look like pilgrims right?" said Diana. She slowly got to her feet. "except they're not pilgrims exactly." She began feeling along the confines of their underground cell.

As he hand passed over the rusted chains attached to the wall, she noded to herself. "Aha!" she said.

"What you on about?" said Remmy. He couldn't see her, but he could hear her fumbling in the darkness.

"They made a big mistake," said Diana, turning to where she could hear his voice came from. "They must have been too afraid to chain us down."

"You saying you want to be in chains girl?" said Remmy, scratching his head in disbelief. What the hell was she talking about?

Diana rolled her eyes. "Of course not," she said. "But the fact that we're not chained means we're free to move around, and look for the escape hatch."

"Escape hatch?"

Diana nodded. "Cellars are built for a reason Remmy. Emergencies, like weather or drought or whatever. Remember: this world is backwards from our time period. There's no emergency broadcast system here. It's every man for himself."

Remmy laughed. "I get it!" he said. "Which means there got to be two exits for this cellar."

Diana nodded. "One for the house, so the women and children can get in. And one on the outside, for the men tilling the fields."

"Girl you are a genius!" said Remmy.

"Not if I can't find that hatch," said Diana. "Now come on, help me explore the ceiling, and let's get out of here."

The ramshackle wooden buildings looked more like an abandoned storehouse than the center of the seeds of religious freedom. But, Quinn reasoned to himself, every cause had to start some place right?

The feeling of unesainess didn't get any better however when they entered the building. It was clean, that was for sure, but it was also thread bare. This "cause" obviously didn't have much money or support. He glanced over at Wade's double again, his eyes taking it all in.

"Not too much funding here by the looks of it Mr. Mallory," remarked the Professor in a low voice.

"Yeah I know," responded Quinn. These people looked like they barely had the resources to stay afloat. How would they possibly help them rescue Remmy and Diana?

They were met by a group of people in the entrance way of the building. Mostly women, wearing tattered long skirts that were clean, if thread bare. The few men there wore breeches that had patches in places. Quinn rubbed his eyes. He still couldn't get over how strange this world was.

A matronly woman approached them slowly. Seeing Wade, her lower lip began to tremble violently and tears sprang to her eyes. "Wade?" she said. "We thought thou wert...thou wert...."

Wade wiped her own eyes and nodded. "Yes sister Anne," she said with a voice choked in emotion. "Thy words are correct. I was captured by Brother Thomas and his men."

Quinn felt a start shake him as he heard the name. "Anne?" he thought. "Could it be *the* Anne?"

Anne looked shocked and her face whitened. "But how..."

Wade smiled softly and pointed at Quinn, who flushed with embarrassment, then the Professor who cleared his throat nervously. "These...men..." she said softly, with a noticeable pause before the word men. "They were my saviors sister. I owe them my life."

Quinn felt his face burning even more and he kicked his foot at the ground silently.

Anne approached them slowly, and her face was warm and kind. "Then I thank ye from the bottom of my heart," she said slowly. "Thou art welcome to stay here for as long as thou requires it, and anything we may do for thy needs..."

Arturo interrupted gallantly. "Actually madam," he said. "there is something we could use your help with."

Anne smiled at the larger man, "Yes, kind sir?"

Arturo looked at Quinn for a moment, who shrugged. They might as well ask. "Let me introduce myself. I am professor Maximillian Arturo. My young friend is Quinn Mallory."

Anne beamed at them brightly. "Anne Hutchinson." she said. "we welcome you here."

Well you see madam," he said. "when we rescued young Miss Welles here, our two companions were captured."

Anne's look tightened. "I see," she said. "Thou knowest of course then our predicament."

"We want to help," interjected Quinn quickly.

"We do?" whispered Arturo under his breath, "Ahem I mean we do," he said with a sigh and a glance at Quinn's determined visage.

"I'm afraid there's not much we can do for your friends," said Anne with a nod at Wade.

"We have to help Anne," Wade said. "These men art my saviors."

Anne sighed heavily. "I'll see what I can put together."

Rembrandt pushed open the heavy trap door and breathed a sigh of relief. No guards indoors. With a hmmmph, he pulled Diana up behind him. She nodded to the front door which had two guards, but otherwise the street looked deserted.

"Town meeting," said Diana with a small smile. "Has to be."

"We're in luck then," said Rembrandt.

Noiselessly the two moved catlike towards their two unsuspecting guardsmen.With a small shriek Remmy had pounced and knocked out the two guards after a brief struggle.

"My hero," said Diana with a smirk. "Let's try their clothes on for size. I don't want to stand out in a crowd."

"Yeah speaking of which," said Remmy. "What do you think happened to Q-ball?"

Diana pursed her lips. "I don't know. But it better be better than being burned at the stake."

Rembrandt and Diana slunk through the town gates. "Think they have a Dominion here?" whispered Rembrandt as they shrank by the third night watchmen in town that evening.

"Take a look," said Diana.

In front of the two stood a tall familiar building, despite the haystrewn streets and wood construction.

Remmy muttered a slight prayer of thanks to the multiverse and motioned for them to go inside.

Gomez Calhoun sat attenting the desk. He blinked sleepily as the two travelers enetered the establishment.

"May I help you?" he said slowly. "Art thou married?"

Diana linked her arm through Remmy's and thought fast. "Yes we are dear sir and we'd like a room."

"Ten shillings," said Calhoun. He looked bored.

Remmy looked at Diana, "Uh do you take credit?"

Diana shoved him lightly. "We can pay by the credit of the worth of our cow...uh Bessie"

Calhoun nodded. "That is suffient. Thou will just put that in writing...and here is thy room key."

When they were suffiently alone Remmy turned and smiled at Diana. "Good thinking Diana."

Diana blushed. "It was nothing...I just remembered that letters of credit were established a long time ago and..."

To be continued...

j