High Society

The following story, "High Society," is intended for entertainment purposes only. It can be freely distributed with the condition that no part of the text is modified, and this notice is included with all copies.

"High" cannot be sold or translated into any other form without written permission from the authors. Some characters and elements of this story are the property of St Clare Entertainment, used without authorization. No copyright infringement is intended. The authors receive no compensation from the distribution of this work. Any comments or criticism would be welcome.

AUTHORS' NOTE:

"High Society" was written in collaboration by Jules Reynolds and Nigel G. Mitchell, starting in August 1996 and ending on March 1, 1997. We also co-authored the Sliders fanfic story, "Chase."

The planned schedule is for "High Society" to be posted bi-weekly on the Sliders Fanfic Mailing List on Mondays and Thursdays. Anyone who misses parts can find them in the newsgroup alt.tv.sliders.creative or email one of the authors for copies.

Bear in mind that although this story is being posted from one email address, the authors have separate accounts. Comments should be directed to *both* authors, whose addresses are listed in the heading. Comments directed to only one author will be forwarded to the other, unless we are specifically requested not to.

The small coffee house overlooked the water, its tables arranged in a neat line outside. The day was quite perfect. A warm sun smiled down on the people who sat there chatting easily to one another. The scene could so easily have been repeatable on almost any world.

Professor Arturo eased himself back on his chair and gazed across the water to the small boats which nestled side by side. They moved gently with the current, bobbing back and forth together.

"I wonder if Miss Welles has found what she was looking for?" he mused as he picked up the daily newspaper which had arrived along with their drinks.

Rembrandt sighed. "Who knows? Sure beats me why she wanted to go off exploring. This world looks pretty ordinary to me."

Quinn looked up from the magazine he was studying. "Yeah, well we've been down that road before. Never assume ordinary just by appearances. Anyway, no one stops Wade when she wants to do something."

Rembrandt grinned. "Yeah, guess you're right Q-Ball."

Arturo put the paper down. "I'm sure it has something to do with the flier she was handed this morning. Do you remember that strange woman who approached her just after we'd arrived?"

"Yeah," Quinn agreed. "Did anyone notice the way the woman spoke to her but wouldn't even look at us?"

"Yes, that was rather odd. I thought at first she was just shy, but all the other women we've seen have done the same thing. Avoided eye contact with us."

"Maybe men are superior here or somethin," suggested Rembrandt.

Arturo looked at him thoughtfully. "Hmm...it could well be that or perhaps some strange custom on this world. I doubt we'll find out in the short space of time we're here."

"Let's just hope she doesn't forget we're sliding out soon," said Rembrandt.

"She won't," murmured Quinn, his head bowed down in his magazine.

A young waitress moved across to their table and placed a tray down in front of them.

"Thank you, my dear," Arturo said smiling, and took a bagel from the plate.

The girl lowered her eyes and moved hurriedly away. A flush of embarrassment tinged her cheeks.

"Looks like they're all shy, Professor," Rembrandt observed with a chuckle, as he reached for a bagel and took a bite.

"Yes. Very strange indeed," Arturo said and then dropped the newspaper he was holding to the table. "Good grief!"

Quinn looked up and followed the Professor's gaze. Wade had returned.

Rembrandt's eyes widened at the sight of the diminutive figure staggering towards them. She was laden down with gold chains, rings and bracelets. "Sweetheart, you'll sink through the floor!" he exclaimed.

Wade smiled knowingly as she reached the three men.

"Miss Welles, I think 'overkill' is an applicable word at this juncture," Arturo murmured, his eyes rolling skywards.

"Will you guys quit complaining and help me carry this stuff," Wade pleaded as she started to pull gold chains over her head, and handed them to each of the men in turn.

Quinn fingered the gold he was handed and whistled. "Must be thousands of dollars worth here." He looked at Wade who was grinning widely.

"Nope, hundreds of *thousands* of dollars worth," she corrected as she held out her fingers and displayed the thick bands of gold adorning them.

"Wow, Wade," said Rembrandt as he gently ran his finger across a shiny gold bracelet nestling on her wrist. "How d'ya manage to buy all these?"

"Oh it was easy. I just........" Wade swung around startled, as a hand rested heavily on her shoulder.

"I assume that these items of jewelry are yours, miss?" The tall man, dressed in a policeman's uniform, eyed the chains in Quinn and Rembrandt's hands with interest.

"Uh. Yes, of course officer," she stuttered in reply.

"Well, I'd like to see them around *your* neck and not demeaning these gentlemen, if you please. Otherwise I'm afraid I'll have to discuss this further at the Station."

The man glared at Wade until she snatched the chains back from Rembrandt and Quinn, and draped them back around her neck.

She smiled sweetly at the officer and pushed Rembrandt's hand well away from the bracelet on her wrist.

The policeman's expression stayed hostile. "I'll forget I saw this, just this once. But in future kindly remember the rules, miss."

Wade nodded silently. The man glared at the entire group and moved away. They watched as he stopped at another table and spoke to two women seated on their own.

"He sure seems fascinated by jewelry," Rembrandt observed, as the man fingered the chains around the women's necks and examined them carefully.

"What was *that* all about?" Quinn asked as he looked from Wade to the retreating form of the policeman, who by now was moving away down the waterside.

"Um...I meant to tell you guys....." she started but was stopped by Arturo.

"What Miss Welles is trying to tell you, my young friend, is that on this world, gold is cheap. Very cheap. There's an advertisement in this newspaper for a Gold Mart. Would you like to enlighten us, Miss Welles?"

Wade slumped down on a seat.

"Okay, guys. Here's the deal. Gold is considered to be for women only, and that's why it's so cheap. Any man seen with a gold wristwatch or anything else is considered to be 'debasing' the male form." Wade raised her eyes at the word 'debasing.'

Arturo interrupted. "Do I gather you don't approve?"

"Hardly Professor," Wade answered sarcastically. "If it debases men then it should debase women as well. But on this world, silver is considered to be the most valuable metal, and of course it's for men only."

Arturo eyed Wade with interest. "I find it interesting that you have obviously taken advantage of this situation. I would think that you would hate such a concept of sheer unadulterated repression of your sex to be abhorrent, Miss Welles. It does surprise me that you have fallen prey to such greed on a world which subscribes to these concepts."

Wade's eyes lowered momentarily. She knew he was right, but the urge to replenish their money supplies had been overwhelming.

"Wade. You knew?" Quinn asked her accusingly.

"Yeah, I knew. Okay? I did it for us, guys. Come on. We didn't even have enough on the last world to stay in some crummy backstreet hotel. I just couldn't resist it. Gold goes for virtual peanuts on this world. You'd have done it too, if you weren't too busy eating for half an hour, instead of exploring the local shops."

"I doubt we'd have been allowed through the doors of the shops you went into, Miss Welles. According to this newspaper, two men were imprisoned last week for stepping foot inside a Gold Emporium across town." Arturo dropped the newspaper to the table and took a last drink of his mineral water.

"Man, what a society!" Rembrandt grimaced in disgust.

"I wish I had time to read through the history books on this world. I cannot imagine for the life of me, what has caused such a strange social code to develop," Arturo murmured as he put down his glass.

"I got this when we arrived," Wade said and passed Arturo the leaflet she'd been handed.

Arturo sat silently while he digested the contents of the two page flier. The others watched and waited.

With a sigh, Arturo put the leaflet down and raised his eyes skyward.

"Quite unbelievable," he muttered.

"Come on, Professor," urged Rembrandt.

"Proverbs," Arturo said.

"What about them?" asked Quinn, putting down his magazine and giving the Professor his full attention.

"This society appears to be based on certain proverbs announced by one of their founder fathers. At least that's what this leaflet implies. The sad thing is that the proverbs which appear to be the most highly used here, are also the most oppressive to women. At least that's what this anti-establishment leaflet implies."

"Like what?" asked Rembrandt.

Arturo looked across at Wade. "Well this leaflet lists the ten main rules for this society. I think the first two are enough for our little discussion, don't you Miss Welles?"

Wade nodded.

"Let me see. 'Silence is a woman's best garment'. That's the first one, swiftly followed by 'Speech is silver but silence is golden'." Arturo paused. "They've taken the first proverb and added the second. Hence silver is for the speakers and hence government of the country, who by all accounts are the men. Gold is therefore attributed to the silence of the women. Voila!"

Quinn groaned. "That's crazy," he said.

Arturo shook his head. "No more crazy than any society's roots. This one just happens to believe totally in what was laid down a few hundred years ago. The rules have basically stuck."

"Let's find a place to slide guys." Quinn rose to his feet and looked at Wade. "This place gives me the creeps. Let's get you and your wealth out of here before anything else can happen."

"Hey, just as well you don't have your nose pierced girl!" laughed Rembrandt as he rose to his feet and looked across at Wade.

"Indeed, Mr. Brown. A large gold nose ring would be worth a fortune on some worlds," joked Arturo, glancing sidelong at Wade.

"No way! I wouldn't go that far for you guys!" she replied and smiled, adding, "Let's just hope, that the next world is the kind of place to exchange this little pile for some Greenbacks."

Wade started to get out of her seat and sat back down again. The weight around her neck made coordinated movement difficult.

"I think I'm gonna need some help here, guys," she squeaked.

"Come on sweetheart, give me your hand," Rembrandt said as he hauled her to her feet. He started to guide her towards the alleyway to one side of the coffee bar. "You sure do go overboard sometimes," he added.

Wade turned to glare at him. She felt she hardly needed reminding.

Quinn pointed the timer at the far wall of the alley and the blue beam spiked out, fanning out into a whirlpool of light.

Rembrandt and Arturo leapt through the mouth of the vortex leaving Quinn and Wade to follow.

"You'll have to walk up to it and launch yourself at it," he recommended, suppressing a broad smile. "Or you could leave some behind......"

"I'm outta here!" she declared and ran forward awkwardly. The chains clanked as she ran and banged hard against her chest. As she threw herself into the vortex she gripped them hard. The thought of a few extra luxuries on next world took her mind off the strain of jumping.

The hard wall which Quinn slammed into came as a shock to his system. He must have opened the portal close to a wall in the next world. Still, you could never be certain where the vortex would open.

He stood up and rubbed his arm ruefully. He was standing in a long and fairly narrow alleyway. The dampness was evident as a pungent smell which stung his nostrils. A thick darkness hung over the area making it difficult to see for more than a few feet.

"Everyone okay?" he asked, as he turned to peer through the dark and saw Wade straightening herself and her newfound wealth out.

He could just make out Arturo helping Rembrandt to his feet.

"Yes, my boy," Arturo said, "I do believe that on this occasion, Mr. Brown did not kick me in the back."

"Yeah, and for once you're not complainin' about it. Makes a nice change," Remmy observed grinning.

Wade wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Geez, this alleyway sure stinks!"

"Yeah, it's pretty dark too. Let's move to somewhere that's better lit guys," Quinn suggested, moving to the mouth of the alley.

As he moved, his feet collided with something on the floor. He lost his balance.

He lurched forwards., hands outstretched, onto the ground nearby. "What the...?" he exclaimed and moved his hands across the rough, dirty ground to feel the obstacle and move it out of the way.

As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he could make out that the obstacle was in fact a bundle of what looked like rags. He took hold of it with both hands and heaved hard. The "bundle" flipped over.

Wade covered her mouth and turned to the alley wall.

Quinn's eyes narrowed. The "bundle" was the very dead body of a young man. Abandoned in the alleyway, he looked as though he were some kind of transient. Dirty, ragged clothing. The body was thin and emaciated.

"I suggest that we leave this area, Mr. Mallory," said Arturo. It's obvious that we cannot do anything for this poor wretch. I do not think that remaining here will serve any useful purpose." Arturo took Wade's arm firmly, and guided her past the body and into the mouth of the alleyway.

Quinn looked reluctantly at the body and felt pity that such a young life should end in such bleak circumstances.

"Looks like this ain't gonna be paradise, man," Remmy declared grimly as he moved with Quinn to join the others.

Quinn nodded numbly.

The alleyway opened onto a wider street. It seemed fairly deserted although several shapes moved slowly across on the other side. The nearer the shapes came to the group the easier it was to see that they were people on the very borders of society. Poorly and inadequately dressed, moving as frightened animals to avoid contact with others. They could see fires burning in the distance and dark shapes which rose into the sky. Buildings of some sort which stretched high into the clouds and beyond.

As the group stood contemplating the darkness and wondering which way to go, the sky suddenly filled with light and sound.

Shafts of light illuminated the street in which they found themselves. Sounds of people screaming assaulted their ears, as a large mob appeared at one end of the street and made its way towards them.

Quinn gripped Wade's arm and ushered her in the other direction, Arturo and Rembrandt close on their heels.

Dark, blue and silver shapes swooped in from above them. They were accompanied by a throbbing roar.

"Helicopters! Police Helicopters!" Rembrandt shouted, trying to get his voice heard above the noise of the rotors and the screaming, baying mob which seemed to be heading right towards them.

"Into this doorway, fast!" Quinn screamed. He pushed Wade up against the closed door and pulled Rembrandt and Arturo in next to him.

The mob was discernible as individuals now. Hundreds of men and women thronging in the street in front of them, fighting with each other and with strange, stiff looking men in uniforms. The brilliant blue and silver of the uniforms contrasted strongly with the dull, colorless clothes the majority of the people were wearing.

Intermittently, gunfire rang out. Wade was sure she could hear individual screams after each burst of gunfire, and the dull thud, as each time someone fell to the ground.

"We've got to get away from here, Mr. Mallory," Arturo shouted above the noise.

Quinn nodded and looked for a way through the swarming masses.

To the left of the mob the area was clearer. Quinn pointed and pulling Wade with him, ran towards the escape route.

The large and ugly sneer sat on the man's face as he rose suddenly in front of Quinn and put a hand out. The force shoved Quinn backwards. As he sprawled on the ground and scrambled to his feet he could see Arturo and Rembrandt had problems of their own. Some of the brute's friends were busy ensuring that any escape route was cut off for them as well.

Quinn heard the shot ring out. He watched in mute fascination and horror as his assailant lurched forwards towards him, his eyes rolling backwards into his head, a thin trickle of blood seeping from his mouth.

Quinn couldn't stop the man from falling. He couldn't get out of his way either. The force thrust his head backwards, and he felt the crack as it hit the ground below him. He tried to move, his head swimming, but the sheer body weight pinned him to the ground. His eyes roamed desperately for Wade.

"Wade!" He heard his voice, but it seemed to disappear into the cacophony of sound which rang around him.

"Quinn!" He heard her voice calling out to him, but from where?

Suddenly he heard the whine of the helicopter rotor blade and saw her. The silver and blue metallic figure had her pinned within its grip as it walked steadily towards the helicopter. She was struggling hard, kicking and punching as she was carried forwards. It seemed to have little effect on her captor.

As he watched the helicopter rise gracefully from the scene of devastation, and saw Wade's face pressed against the window, staring out at the scene below her, his heart sank.

Wade pressed her face hard against the glass of her window, watching the pavement retreat from her. The inside of the helicopter shook with the roar of the blades as she forced herself to turn away.

Her arms were still in the tight grip of the person that had taken her into the helicopter, sweeping her out of the mob into safety. Wade turned to find herself looking into his smiling face. But it was fake, molded from plastic, giving it the stiff appearance of a clothing store mannequin. It was some sort of robot, its body clothed in a blue-and-silver uniform. A dead giveaway were its eyes that glowed blue in their sockets.

There were other robots in the helicopter. One was behind the controls of the airborne vehicle. Others sat motionless along the sides of the copter, holding guns from which smoke drifted. Only one of the robots was active, still holding her in its soft, but cold grip.

The robot clicked, then spoke in a voice too calm and friendly to be real. "Are you all right, ma'am?"

"Yeah," Wade breathed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Get your hands off me." Wade began to twist her arms, trying to break free of the robot's grip. But the robot immediately released her, lowering its arms to its sides.

Wade rubbed her sore forearms. The robot had grabbed her hard when it yanked her off the street. "Where am I? Where are you taking me?"

"We are taking you back."

Wade breathed heavily, glaring at the too-perfect face looking back at her. "Back? Back where?"

"Back to Uptown," the robot said.

Wade looked back out of the window again. She could see the sides of buildings sweeping past, enormous skyscrapers that never seemed to end.

"Uptown?" Wade asked. "You mean up there?"

"Correct," the robot said. "Where you belong."

Wade looked back at the robot with narrowed eyes. "You keep saying that. What makes you think I belong in Uptown or wherever?" The robot stretched out a hand towards her neck. Wade lunged back until she realized it was reaching for her gold necklaces. The robot touched them, lifting them slightly to direct her attention to it.

"Only Uptowners," the robot said, "wear jewelry. Therefore, you are an Uptowner."

The realization of what was happening struck Wade. She was being taken away from the others, from her friends, from the timer, from everything. Her rescue had become a nightmare.

"No, I'm not an Uptowner," Wade said. "Look, there's been some sort of a mistake. Just put me back down..."

"I'm afraid that is not possible," the robot said. "Uptowners are not allowed Downtown. It is against regulation 2318- GKL..."

"I don't care about your stupid regulations," Wade yelled. "Take me back right now or I swear I'll jump out of this helicopter..."

The robot clamped its hand back onto her arm. This time, its grip tightened until Wade grunted in pain.

"I'm afraid that is not possible," the robot said. "We are taking you where you belong."

Wade was about to fight when she caught sight of the world outside the window. Sunlight was shining through the window again as the helicopter rose above the shelter of the buildings.

San Francisco was a vast sea of skyscrapers. All of them were topped with luxurious structures and buildings. She could see a dome covering one of them, sheltering grass and trees like a park. Another penthouse resembled a Grecian temple with pillars and grandiose statuary. It was all a complete reversal of the degradation she had seen on the streets.

"We are taking you," the robot continued, "back to Uptown."

* * *

Quinn stumbled over a pile of broken concrete and rubble, trying to see in the everpresent shadows. It was daytime. He knew it had to be day, since it had been day on their last world, and relative time usually didn't change on other worlds. But there was no light. The buildings all around them blocked it all out, casting the city into darkness.

"Wade!" Quinn shouted. "Wade, where are you?"

He heard the professor's voice, calling out Wade's name, too, followed by Rembrandt. Quinn tracked them, lurching past a woman in clothes caked with dirt. He turned a corner to find Arturo and Rembrandt in front of a long-deserted bank that now roared with flames pouring from its windows.

"Anything?" Quinn asked.

Rembrandt shook his head. "Nah, man, she's gone. Disappeared. Wherever that helicopter you saw took her, it ain't around here."

"Agreed," Arturo said. "I believe we should widen our search."

Quinn closed his eyes as he sighed. "Yeah. But at least the fighting is over. We'll be able to cover more ground."

Quinn put his hand up to his neck and massaged it, trying to ease the tension out of it. A sharp pain shot through to his temple and he winced. As he lowered his hand he saw blood staining his fingers.

Arturo frowned and turned Quinn to look at the back of his head. Quinn felt the professor's fingers probing through his scalp until there was another sting of pain.

"You've got a nasty cut there, Quinn," Arturo said. "We need to get that taken care of quickly. Starting with something clean to bandage it with."

Rembrandt pulled his coat closer around himself as a cold wind fluttered their clothes. "Yeah, well, good luck on this world. It's like one big slum."

"Yes," Arturo said, "I think you've hit the proverbial nail on the head, Mr. Brown. It seems that the San Francisco of this world is in an appalling state of decay and financial ruin."

Quinn shielded his eyes to look up at the buildings towering over them. They were so high that their tops faded into the clouds. "Well, they can't be that poor. They could afford to build these big buildings."

Rembrandt followed his gaze. "Yeah, somethin' weird's goin' on around here, guys. I mean, who needs places this big?"

"Perhaps to house a larger population," Arturo suggested.

Quinn closed his eyes, fighting the sudden wooziness sweeping through him. "Later. Right now, we gotta find Wade."

Then he was falling forward and Arturo was catching him.

Arturo struggled to prop Quinn back on his feet. "Wrong, Mr. Mallory. First, we are getting you to a doctor. Then we shall see about finding Miss Welles."

Rembrandt jogged away from them, his boots crunching on the uneven pavement. "Hey, I think I saw a doc a few blocks away."

Arturo wrapped one of Quinn's arms around his neck to support him, then began helping Quinn forward. "Lead on, Mr. Brown."

They made their way through the streets of the city. Quinn's head cleared enough to make out huddled masses all around them. Men, women, children, all wearing tattered clothes, gathering around fires in barrels to keep warm. Quinn thought back to the professor's comments, and wondered again what kind of world they had found themselves on.

Rembrandt was leading them back to the area where they had first slid into. The riot was over, but people still lay in the road, groaning in pain. Some of them wore ragged strips of cloth wrapped around their arms, legs, heads, or ribs, holding on pads stained with blood.

Only one man stood, wearing a coat with a red cross painted on the back and sleeves. He was tending to one woman, winding a ribbon of cloth around her stomach as fast as he could.

"Are you a doctor?" Rembrandt asked.

"Yes," the man said without looking up.

"Hey, great. We got a friend who's hurt bad."

The man used a pair of scissors to cut the cloth, then moved to someone else. "I'm sorry, but he'll have to get in line. We've got a lot of wounded, and I have to work on order of arrival and severity of injuries."

"That's okay," Quinn said. "I can wait. Set me down, professor."

Arturo lowered Quinn to the ground. Quinn settled back, trying not to let chunks of loose rock dig into his sides. He watched the doctor run from one patient to another.

"Hey," Quinn said, "were you around here earlier?"

The doctor looked up at him. "Yes. After that fiasco, I knew I'd be needed. Why?"

"Did you happen to see a woman getting taken into a helicopter? About this tall with orange-pink hair, wearing a thick lambskin coat?"

The doctor filled a hypodermic needle with a clear fluid from a bottle. "Yes. She was taken by one of the police helicopters, right?" Rembrandt's face broke into a smile. "Hey, yeah. You know where they took her?"

The doctor pulled the needle out of the bottle. "There's only one place they could have taken her. Uptown."

"Uptown?" Arturo asked. "Where is that? Is it far?"

The doctor stared at him. "Sure it's far. About two hundred stories straight up."

He pointed at the swirling clouds above them.

Arturo shielded his eyes as he gazed up into the skies where buildings loomed. "Well, how do we get there? It's very important that we reunite with her soon."

The doctor shook his head. "Get up there? Look, I don't know where you three came from, but if you're down here, and she's up there, then you're never seeing her again. Ever."

The landing was strangely soft. Wade moved forward cautiously towards the exit doors, following the robot ahead of her.

The strong sunlight tore at her eyes and she screwed them up before she was blinded, raising her arm to act as a temporary shield while they adjusted to the brilliance.

It was the color of her surroundings which made the first impression. Light pastel colors on some buildings, and yet bright primary colors on others. A sheer kaleidoscope of rich imagery. Everywhere she looked, color. The sheer contrast to the gray dirt and degradation, and the dark alleyways of the world in which her friends were stranded was incredible.

Wade stood and hesitated. The robot ahead of her was moving slowly and purposefully towards a large dome-like structure right in front of them. She glanced across from the building and realized the cause of the soft landing. The helipad was grassed over.

She noticed shields made from a translucent, almost glass-like material, running around the perimeter of the rather large police heliport. Occasionally she thought she caught a glimpse of them move and then she realized. They were wind breaks, and were flexing. Obviously they were designed to prevent the helicopters from being taken by a sudden gust of wind and thrown from the top of the tower.

A sudden feeling of pressure in the small of her back pulled her from her reverie. She felt herself being propelled forwards. The robot who was prodding her kept his hand close to her body to encourage her to keep moving.

The blue and silver dome was quite beautiful. In fact Wade had never seen such an aesthetically pleasing, and luxurious police building before.

"Locator card, please ma'am," the robot's mechanized voice broke into her thoughts as she stood in front of the main desk and stared blank faced at him, her brain racing.

Where was her usual quick thinking? She didn't know what to say.

"Uh...I seem to have mislaid it," she said finally, patting her jeans pockets and the pockets of her coat. She waited for the response.

"I cannot return you to your correctly designated living area without your locator card," the voice droned on.

Wade smiled sweetly, even though she knew the smile would have little, if any, effect on the robot.

"I must have dropped it, back down there," she said, nodding her head sharply downwards to indicate the area from where she'd been abducted.

"You have violated 2318 GKL. You have mislaid an official Locator card. You will be interrogated." The glowing eyes took on an edge of menace as she met the stare of the mechanical creature in front of her. For the first time since she'd met the robots, a hand of fear clawed uncomfortably at her stomach.

***

"Man, this is one hell hole of a world," Rembrandt muttered unhappily as he supported Quinn. They were on their way to the Shelter they'd had directions for.

Arturo clutched a small scrap of paper. Their introduction from the doctor to the people who ran the place.

Quinn was feeling decidedly tired and his wound was not a little uncomfortable. Even though he'd received medical attention of sorts, he knew the aseptic world of the casualty departments he remembered back home were a far cry from this dirt ridden environment.

"Yes, we do appear to have arrived in a world of complete and utter destitution, don't we?" mumbled Arturo miserably, as he walked slightly ahead of them, his coat pulled tightly around him to ward off the cold wind which whipped around every corner.

"I'd just settle for a bed and a warm drink, guys," Quinn murmured quietly.

"Yes, and some proper medical attention too," Arturo whispered in Rembrandt's ear. "Good God those bandages were filthy. I'm surprised he's not burning up with a raging infection." Rembrandt nodded.

The darkness was oppressive. There were no street lights, although from very high above them Quinn could glimpse that the sky was blue. It wasn't night and yet it might as well have been, for all the sunlight which filtered down to the streets below. His head spun from the effort of looking upwards.

"I do believe we have found the Shelter," Arturo declared suddenly, as they rounded a corner and found themselves in front of a large building. The disrepair was obvious, but lights glowed from within. For some reason, the little group felt their spirits rise as they joined the long line of fellow lost souls which snaked to the left of the main door.

***

The room was white. In fact it was so white that Wade felt oppressed just by the cleanliness of it. A painting or something, anything to break the monotony of its lackluster lines. But there was nothing. Just white.

"Well now, what have we here?" The male voice interrupted her thoughts. "A poor lost Uptowner or a Downtowner with an eye to tricking her way into the high life? Now which is it going to be, I wonder?"

The voice was cutting in its sarcasm and the underlying menace was unmistakable. Wade heard the door close behind him and guessed that if she got the wrong answer she'd end up somewhere very unpleasant. The shiver which ran up her spine was sudden.

His face was close now, peering at her, studying her eyes and then casting them across the chains, rings and bracelets which adorned her torso and limbs.

Wade glanced at the man who owned the voice, expecting a gnarled, hardened police officer. She sucked in a breath silently. He was devastatingly attractive. Dark and handsome. Tall and muscular. He could have been a model, he had the looks. She shrugged inwardly. Nothing on this world to say good-looking men couldn't become police officers. She'd seen some before who were just as attractive.

She sat quietly as he reached across and fingered the chain, examining it closely.

He let it drop and then moved slowly around Wade's chair, his eyes fixed on her face, his gaze locking with her eyes and studying them. Trying to gauge what was going on inside that attractive little head of hers. Trying to decide whether she was for real or not.

"You've got no identification, no Locator card and you were found in the middle of the riots in Downtown. Wanna explain yourself?"

Wade tore her eyes from his gaze and looked at the floor. She'd spent the time trying to think up some plausible explanation. She had to buy some time. If she thought that admitting to being from Downtown meant that she'd be taken back down there, then she'd confess it and return to the others. A doubt nagged at her though. She didn't know the punishment for trying to trick her way into this place called Uptown. She had a feeling she didn't want to.

"I...I don't remember," she said sadly and shook her head numbly. She realized that this Oscar winning performance would have to convince her captors. She had her doubts.

The man looked at her for a minute and then cleared his throat.

"Seen this before. Memory loss. Had a case way back. Young woman abducted for ransom by a group of Downtowners who infiltrated the system. She forgot everythin' about her past life when she came back. Had to have treatment for years."

He shook his head and tutted loudly. "Don't want a pretty young thing like you endin' up the same, now do we?"

He turned away from her and swallowed hard. The memory of the slating he'd got from the Chief was a bitter pill to swallow. He'd thought the woman was an impostor then and she'd ended up a complete head case. The chief blamed him for not having referred her to Psyche there and then, but he'd hesitated, didn't believe her. He nearly lost his permit and was threatened with being sent back. He shuddered. After all these years to end up back there. As he opened the door he turned and smiled at Wade.

"Never you mind, honey. I'll get you sorted out. We got processes of finding out where you come from, don't you worry 'bout it. Don't worry at all."

As he shut the door Wade started to worry.

***

The room spun around Quinn. When he closed his eyes it was worse somehow. When he opened them the room slowed down and the pain eased slightly. And yet he couldn't get comfortable. He certainly couldn't get up. The last time he'd tried to leave the makeshift bed he'd been allocated, he'd been as sick as a dog which had only resulted in making the jackhammer in his head worse. The painkillers were pathetically inadequate. Still, at least they were better than nothing. The pain was less intense now and he began to feel sleepy.

"You feelin' any better Q-Ball?" Rembrandt asked as he gingerly perched next to Quinn on the bed.

"Don't ask," Quinn replied solemnly, his eyes screwed up, his brow furrowed with an effort to make the pain dissipate faster.

Rembrandt sighed. The doctor had said Quinn needed some sleep. If he got that then he'd recover quicker. His injury wasn't serious, just very uncomfortable. His equilibrium was temporarily out of balance from the blow to the head but the doctor had estimated that it wouldn't be long before he'd be able to move without emptying his stomach contents onto the floor.

Arturo came to stand next to them, his eyes betraying how he felt.

"Any change?" he asked softly, indicating Quinn with his head.

Rembrandt shrugged. "Difficult to tell." He got up to speak to him.

"Did you tell him our urgency, Mr. Brown?" Arturo asked, looking at the now sleeping form of their young friend.

Rembrandt shook his head sadly. "Nah. Wouldn't make any difference now would it Professor? If he can't move, he can't. There isn't anything we can do or say that's gonna change that fact and that's for sure."

Arturo drew the timer from his jacket and examined the display. He tutted loudly.

"We'll have to think very hard about getting Miss Welles back from up there." He nodded upwards. "Before the window of opportunity closes and leaves us stranded. I for one, do not relish the thought of being stranded here for any length of time." Arturo stuffed the timer back inside his jacket.

Rembrandt groaned softly and stared down at Quinn.

The dark and welcome veil of sleep which washed over Quinn, was the temporary end to his pain and for now that was all he was bothered about.

***

"And this must be our little girl!"

The high pitched squeal of delight which accompanied the words, belonged to the most highly made-up woman Wade had ever seen in her life.

Make-up plastered on thickly. Eye-lashes caked in dark, black mascara. Red shiny lips and peroxide hair which fell in a solid mass towards her shoulders, obviously so highly lacquered that even a strong gust of wind wouldn't have moved it. And yet beneath the false promises which the make-up held, the woman was attractive in her own right. Wade could see that.

She reached a red taloned hand out towards Wade and touched her shoulder.

"How sweet! How delightful!" she squealed excitedly and turned to the policeman at the door.

"Of course I'll take her home. It will be a pleasure, darling," she enthused, smiling delightedly. "The least I can do. We all do our bit, now don't we, darling?" She strutted towards the door.

"Come on dear," she said turning and going back to Wade. She took her arm and propelled her towards the door. "Let's just get your hand prints done so the nice policeman can find out where you live."

Wade groaned inwardly. It wouldn't be too long before they found out she didn't exist in Uptown at all. Then she'd be labeled as a Downtowner and punished.

She turned to the policeman as she followed the woman through the door. He smiled kindly at her.

"What do you do to the Downtowners who manage to come up here?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Send them back where they belong," he replied and added with a grin, "of course they get there a lot quicker. We just throw them off one of the towers."

Wade followed the woman out of the police headquarters to the heliport. There were other police helicopters on the pad, but a new vehicle waited in a space alongside them. It reminded Wade of a sort of car, except that it had four tubular engines on its sides instead of wheels. Whatever it was, it was obviously a luxury vehicle. Its sleek lines were painted a neon pink, except for the edges which were trimmed with gold.

As they approached the vehicle, the woman by Wade's side held out a small device like a beeper and said, "Doors open, please."

The winged doors of the vehicle swung upwards with a soft hum.

"All aboard, darling," the woman said as she strode to the far side.

Wade looked into the vehicle's interior. It was the same shade of pink with four seats that were incredibly soft. As Wade slid into the passenger seat, she realized that there was no steering wheel or obvious controls of any kind. The dashboard was completely smooth.

The woman settled herself into the seat next to her and said, "Doors close. Take me home."

The doors closed. Straps slid out of Wade's seat to hold her in. The vehicle rumbled, then jets of air exploded out of the side- engines. Wade grabbed hold of the dashboard as the vehicle lifted off the ground.

She looked out of the side window, her mouth hanging open, to watch the heliport slide away. The hovercraft was flying into the clouds, among the high towers of San Francisco. The vehicle made course changes as it flew without any apparent guidance from the woman. Wade guessed the vehicle was on some sort of voice-activated autopilot system.

Wade looked at the woman next to her. She was buffing her nails with a file.

The woman gave her an exaggerated look of pity. "You've been through a terrible ordeal, sweetie. Champagne?"

Before Wade could respond, the woman had repeated the word at the dashboard. A hatch opened and two chilled glasses of champagne slid out. Wade took one and drank a careful sip. It was delicious.

She looked carefully at the woman, who was downing the champagne like soda. "Who are you?"

The woman smacked her lips, holding her glass with her pinky extended. "Grace Worthington, dear. And your name is..."

"Wade Welles."

"Wade," Grace repeated. "What an absolutely charming name. Caviar?"

Another hatch opened on the dashboard, and a bowl of caviar slid out with two spoons. "Uh, no thanks." Wade watched Grace help herself to some of the caviar. "Uh, it's very...nice of you to take me in like this."

Grace smiled around the spoon in her mouth, pulled it out, and patted Wade's knee. "Nonsense, darling. It's what I do. Charity is my life. I live to help those less fortunate than I, especially those poor Downtowners."

Wade saw an opening to finding out more about this world. She tried to sound casual as she struggled to come up with a question that would tell her something more. "Yeah, it's pretty bad down there, isn't it?"

"Indeed," Grace sighed. "But then, they do bring it all on themselves. If they only had the strength of will to pull up their bootstraps and get somewhere in life, then they wouldn't... ah, here we are! Home sweet home."

The hovercraft was lowering itself onto another helipad, this one beside a luxurious art-deco penthouse. The vehicle was dropping through a hatch in a plastic dome that covered the balcony. Rows of flowers danced as the vehicle landed beside them.

When the hovercraft had landed with a series of thumps, the doors swung upwards. The straps around Wade retracted into the seat. She climbed out, her hair tousled by the whining engines.

Grace was making her way through the garden-like setting of the balcony, her hands making sweeping gestures in the air. "Come along. Mi casa su casa, sweetie."

Wade followed her down a stone path to a set of French doors. The doors swung open as Grace drew near them, and a voice rang throughout the penthouse.

"The mistress of the house is home," the disembodied voice said.

The penthouse was the most luxuriously decorated place Wade had ever seen. Every piece of furniture matched perfectly, forming smooth white lines that gave the living room the appearance of being unified. Paintings hung on the walls. Wade didn't need to be an art major to know were extraordinary masterpieces. She walked on a carpet that her shoes practically sank into.

A man walked out of one of the adjoining rooms. He wore a tuxedo that was perfectly tailored to his muscular frame. He was the second most handsome man Wade had ever seen. The first had been the policeman who interrogated her earlier.

The man was holding a tray of glasses filled with wine. Grace swept off one of the glasses and brought it to her lips in one motion.

Ah, Charles," Grace said after a sip, "this is Miss Welles. She'll be staying with us for a few days. Make up the guestroom so she'll be comfortable."

The butler bowed. "Yes, madam."

Wade noticed the butler gave her a strange look before walking off into another room. Grace swept her hands to take in the penthouse. "Do you like it?"

Wade looked up at a chandelier that almost dripped diamonds from its wings. "It's...fantastic."

Grace clasped her hands over her chest. "Oh, I just knew you'd like it, darling. It's not much, I know, but we get by. But come, come, you simply must see the rest of the place. And my dear family, of course."

She took Wade's hands in a firm grip and almost dragged her towards another doorway. Throwing open the door revealed another almost empty room. Its only content was a small booth. Images swirled on the outside of the booth, from which music and sounds were emerging.

Grace walked over to the booth and rapped on the side with a ruby-ringed fist. "Oh, Brenda? We have a visitor."

A young woman's voice rang out from the booth. "Leave me alone. Can't you see I'm busy?"

Grace's everpresent cheerful demeanor slipped a little as she glanced at Wade with discomfort. But the smile returned. "But sweetie, I've brought home a simply charming young lady. She's going to be our guest."

The booth fell silent. A door Wade hadn't noticed on its side flew open. A young eighteen-year-old woman leaned out of it. With the door open, Wade could see that the interior of the booth had images projected onto it. The effect made it seem as if she was surrounded by a three-dimensional view of a street in Paris.

The woman pulled a set of headphones out of her long, blonde hair, and scowled. "Mother, this isn't another one of your charity cases again, is it?"

* * * Quinn returned to the real world slowly, gradually rising from unconsciousness. There was a man leaning over him, shining a penlight into his eyes. Quinn recognized him as the doctor who had helped them before.

The doctor grinned. "Welcome back to the land of the living, my friend."

Quinn tried to sit up, but dizziness forced him to lie back down again. "How long...was I out?"

Arturo leaned into his field of vision. "Not long, my boy. A few minutes."

The doctor turned away to dig through a medical bag. "You'll be fine, son. Just relax. I've given you some medication that should at least put you back on your feet." Quinn nodded. "I...I do feel a little better." Relatively. The vertigo had eased somewhat.

The doctor grunted and strode off across the room with his bag. With his vision clearing, Quinn was able to see that his bed was surrounded by coughing, groaning bodies. The doctor moved among them swiftly, taking thermometers and pushing pills into open mouths. Another woman with a red cross on her coat was working with him, but the two were obviously outnumbered.

Quinn looked up at Rembrandt and Arturo standing over him. "What's going on?"

"TB epidemic," Rembrandt said. "Doc says it's runnin' rampant down here."

"Yes," Arturo said. "And without adequate medical supplies, these people have little hope of squashing it."

Quinn managed to sit up a little bit. "Have you guys figured out anything about this place yet?"

"Just bits and pieces," Rembrandt said. "Snoopin' around, tryin' not to ask too many dumb questions. Seems like the whole city, maybe even the whole country, is one big slum on the ground, but in the air's another story."

"They have names for it," Arturo said. "Down here is called Downtown. Up at the top of those skyscrapers are a vast network of penthouses that they call Uptown. Details are hazy at best, but it seems that the poor live down here and the rich live up there. But we haven't been able to find a discreet way to get any more in-depth information than that."

Quinn pressed a palm against his forehead, feeling his cold fingers against his hot skin. "Great. Any ideas on getting Wade back?" Arturo silenced him with a wave of his hand as the doctor returned to Quinn's bed.

"All right," the doctor said, "I've got some time now. What'd you want to talk to me about?"

"It is vitally important," Arturo said, "that we retrieve our companion from Uptown. Soon. Very soon."

Quinn caught the urgency in his voice and stole a glance at Rembrandt. Rembrandt caught his eye and shrugged. Quinn remembered the timer. He also remembered he hadn't checked how much time they had left in this world.

The doctor shook his head. "I told you people before, from what you've told me, her abduction was a mistake. Your friend was probably killed the minute they found out she wasn't an Uptowner."

Rembrandt held out a hand. "Look, our buddy's real resourceful. If there's a way to survive, she found it. So suppose she did hang on up there. Is there any way we could get to her or at least talk to her?"

The doctor shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed. "Well... there's only one group capable of getting into Uptown. The Renegades."

"Renegades," Arturo said. "All right, is there a way we can contact them?"

The doctor regarded the three men with narrowed eyes, then shook his head. "Nah, you can't be spies. Even Uptowners wouldn't be this obvious. All right, get your friend dressed. I'll take you." He strode off across the room, back into the suffering of others. His partner stopped him to show him a series of charts.

Quinn slid his legs off the bed and took the pants that Arturo handed to him.

"You think we can trust this guy?" Rembrandt asked.

"We don't have much choice, Mr. Brown," Arturo said. "We must recover Miss Welles, and at present, this man is our only option."

Quinn buckled his pants, then braced himself on one of the iron spikes that served as a bedpost. "Okay, guys, quit holding out on me. How much time do we have before the slide?"

Arturo and Rembrandt looked at each other. Rembrandt closed his eyes. He pulled the timer out of his coat pocket. He held it out to Quinn.

Quinn flipped open the cover to read the LCD display. He stared at the numbers slowly counting down for a few seconds. Then he closed the timer and handed it back to Rembrandt.

"This is not good," Quinn murmured to himself.

"Now you see our urgency," Arturo said. "We must retrieve Miss Welles within the next couple of days at least."

Quinn looked at Rembrandt, feeling exhausted from both his injuries and the task thay lay ahead. "Did you mean what you said, Remmy? About Wade being alive?"

Rembrandt rested a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "Hey, man, you know her. She can talk her way out of anything."

Quinn grinned. "Well, she can talk, that's for sure. Okay, let's say she's still alive, maybe even found somewhere to stay. But she can't fool them forever, and we've gotta get to her before these Uptowner guys do."

"I'm with you, Q-Ball," Rembrandt said.

The doctor approached them, pulling a black coat over his white clothes. "The Renegades run a soup kitchen in the Sunlight District. It's not far from here, we can walk. One thing...if you three are spies, then the Renegades will find out. And when they do...they'll kill you."

The doctor turned and strode out of the medical clinic. Quinn looked at the others, took a deep breath, and followed him out of the door. Back into the shadows of Downtown.

The long brown hair flicked back and the young woman stepped from the booth. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Wade, taking in her hair, her clothes, her entire appearance.

She turned to her mother and pouted. "Mother, would you kindly think before interrupting me again like that. I had just requested the new Dior outfit and they were about to bring on the new season collection."

Brenda pulled the headset from around her neck and flung it petulantly onto a hook at the side of the booth. She withdrew the gloves she wore slowly and deliberately, glancing occasionally at Wade and then looking disdainfully away.

Wade knew she wasn't going to like her one bit.

"Brenda darling, I bought you the new Virtual projector in the hope that you would find more to do in it, than order up the new season fashions from a Paris catwalk!" her mother moaned. She threw her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation, and taking hold of Wade's hand dragged her past the booth.

Wade eyed it appreciatively. She'd love to test-drive that baby. It looked far more sophisticated than even the best Virtual reality systems back on her own earth.

"Do come and introduce Wade here to Tanya, dear," her mother continued as she moved Wade through the door on the far side of the room.

Wade heard the girl sigh.

"Whatever, mother." Her only reluctant words as she followed them.

The penthouse seemed to go on forever. Each new room seemingly as luxurious as the last.

The red taloned fingers reached to the panel to the side of the door in front of them.

An automated voice responded. Its flat monotone was beginning to grate on Wade's nerves.

"Enter." The door opened.

Grace moved through.

"Ah Tanya, sweetie. I've brought a new companion for you. This is Wade," Grace oozed as she pushed Wade through the door and departed without another word.

"She's one of mother's charity cases, Tanny," Brenda drawled sarcastically, as she followed them into the room.

"I'm not a charity case," Wade retorted, her anger rising at Brenda's attitude.

Wade looked around the room. Its shelves were filled with books. The first she'd seen in the house. In front of her a young girl sat cross legged on the floor, her head bowed over a book. She could be no more than twelve years old, with short bobbed dark brown hair. Wade guessed she was going through the gangly adolescent stage. She was the total opposite of her sister. Where Brenda wore what Wade suspected to be the height of fashion, Tanya had a pair of dungarees and a T-shirt on.

"Oh, and what *are* you then, darling?" Brenda asked contemptuously, throwing herself into a beanbag on the floor next to her sister and reaching absently towards a book which lay there. She thumbed it with disinterest and finally tossed it back to the floor.

Tanya scowled at her and reached across to retrieve it.

"I've lost my memory. I can't remember where I live," Wade lied and mentally crossed her fingers that she sounded convincing.

"You're a charity case then," Brenda replied and started to laugh. "Look, sweetie. Wade, or whatever your name is. Mother loves helping poor lost souls. She only does it because of that bore of a policeman. Met him yet?" She studied Wade's face.

Wade nodded. She could get into quite an argument if she wanted to. With Brenda it would be easy. She'd have to bite her lip. It was important to stay alive and hope the others would get to her.

"Well he's Mother's little 'project'. He crawled his way up here from that filthy slum down there and he thinks he's one of us. Mother thinks it's chic to help people like him so she does everything to help him, sickening isn't it, Tanny?"

"Oh do shut up, Brenda. You're so gross," Tanya murmured and pulled her head up from where it had been stuck in a book.

Wade looked at her.

The girl brushed her hair back from her face with her fingers, and met Wade's look. Her eyes were dark and sparkling. She seemed to have something which Brenda did not. Life and a spark of compassion. Wade smiled. Tanya smiled back.

Brenda caught the look and rose to her feet. "Well it looks as though you two little darlings will get on just fine. My stupid sister and some charity case of mother's. Wonderful. You go well together."

With that Brenda tossed her hair and stalked towards the door, her hips swaying as though she were a model. She threw them both as withering a look as she could muster and left the room.

***

The Sunlight District seemed a strange name to Quinn as he walked slowly next to Rembrandt. His head still spun slightly, but he didn't feel sick any more and he could at least see straight.

The darkness which seemed to rest on Downtown as a shroud, keeping its inhabitants in a constant twilight world of oppression and misery. The towering skyscrapers meant that the sun never reached the streets beneath. Quinn couldn't perceive where a District down here could get a name like that from.

As they turned a corner on the next block and started down the street, he realized why.

It looked as though the heavens were picking out three areas to be highlighted. Beams of sunlight, three of them, picked their way carefully from above and rested on three small areas a small distance away from where the group were walking.

Rembrandt had felt a sense of oppression since they'd arrived. He felt it no more so than now. A sadness even started to creep over him as he saw the three shafts of sunlight and they neared the base of the light. The sight which greeted them made a lump form in his throat and he swallowed.

Each small shaft of light was only fifty feet square at its base, if that. In that space which was flooded with life giving sunlight, were three green and brown areas. Rembrandt realized as he neared them that the green were areas of plants. The brown smudges of soil. The small area was guarded by two gun toting men. As they got closer they could see a few people carefully tending the plants and soil.

Arturo turned to Rembrandt and said quietly, "Looks like Heaven's shining down on someone here after all."

Rembrandt nodded.

"Our only source of fresh food," the doctor declared as they passed the growing areas and neared a barrier across the road. "These three areas are the only ones that get sunlight down here. We grow what we can and keep the gangs from getting near. The rest we steal from Uptown - or at least the Renegades do. Then there's the occasional trip out to the automated farms outside the City limits. We 'steal' from the shipments there too." The doctor's lips were set hard as he said the word "steal."

Quinn exchanged a look with the others. Life in Downtown was hardly fair, given the fact that there seemed to be a population living in tower blocks who were doing so well. They'd have to find out more about the world. The problem was how. Without arousing suspicions as to their origins. As though Arturo was a mind reader, he whispered hurriedly in Quinn's ear.

"If they get wind of the timer we've lost it. I can't blame them but they'd want to leave this hellhole and you and I know it." Arturo's voice was scarcely audible but Quinn caught the words. He nodded silently and watched as Arturo leaned across and whispered the same words in Rembrandt's ear.

Quinn caught the motion of the Professor patting his jacket pocket reassuringly.

The doctor smiled at the young man who was standing against the barrier, pointing a semi-automatic at the group. "It's all right Tom. I've got to get inside and these people are with me."

Tom grinned and opened a section of the barrier, which consisted of old large wooden chests across the road and barbed wire across the top of them.

"If this all looks over the top to you, be assured it isn't," the doctor said as they moved slowly through to the building beyond. "Gangs are the backbone of Downtown. Even the renegades can't hold out against some of them. This barrier is manned night and day."

"By one man?" Arturo asked, surprised.

The doctor smiled and shook his head. "One man on the front, sure. Twenty or thirty in those windows up there."

He pointed to the first two floors of the nearby tower blocks. Quinn caught a glint of metal in at least three of them. He swallowed and was grateful they were with the doctor.

***

"Wade darling, I've made you an appointment with my very good friend, Dr. Bartlett. No expense spared, sweetie. He'll sort out that little memory of yours, don't you fret now." Grace moved into Tanya's room and patted Wade on the head. She smiled down at Tanya.

"I'm *so* glad you've got a little playmate darling. You spend so long cooped up in this room with those nasty books, I worry about you."

"Well don't, mother. I love my books," Tanya replied and cast a conspiratorial smile at Wade.

Wade grinned. Being called a "little playmate", considering their difference in age, was hysterical. Still, she knew Grace meant well in her own way. It was Brenda she wouldn't trust as far as she could throw her.

"But I bought you that brand new interactive terminal. It connects with simply everywhere. You can read everything from the main library on it. And you know it has a virtual chip in it too. Darling, those books are so...so dirty!"

Grace screwed her face up in disgust as she picked up a book gingerly from the floor with two fingers, and dropped it onto the beanbag. She rubbed her hands as though to dispel the dirt.

"Do go and wash your hands, darling. James has made a wonderful lunch for you all outside, while I go and see my psychiatrist for my appointment. Have fun darlings and do show Wade her room for me, Tanya dear."

Wade's ears pricked up with interest at the mention of the interactive terminal and its link to the library. An idea started to form in her mind.

***

"My God, James, this is disgusting!" Brenda's voice filtered from the outside patio to greet Wade's ears.

The patio was raised above a rather large pool, basking in bright sunlight. A large white table sat under an ample blue shade and was spread with a rather magnificent looking lunch. For the first time since they'd slid into the world, Wade realized that she was hungry.

As she sat down at a seat pulled out for her by James, she gazed at the view which confronted her. Across the rooftops she could see penthouse after penthouse and pool after pool. That they were in some sort of upmarket residential area was obvious. How far it extended was impossible to tell.

"Pretty neat view," Wade murmured to Tanya who slipped in next to her.

"It's like this everywhere," Tanya replied sullenly.

"Surely not everywhere?" Wade questioned as she scooped a serving of salad onto her plate and took a large piece of freshly baked bread from a basket.

"Of course it is, darling." Brenda's voice grated on her nerves more and more. "What did you expect?" She turned an expectant face to Wade. Her eyes narrowed. Wade thought she caught a flash of suspicion in the young woman's eyes.

"I just remember it being a lot smaller," Wade lied. She was desperate to know more about this society and about the underclass which lived below her. But her alibi had to stick or she was sunk.

The sound of clattering china made Wade look up with a start. She caught Tanya stare at her sister then lower her eyes.

"You stupid man," Brenda screamed at James as he stooped to pick up the remnants of the plate. "I told you I didn't want the artichokes. I hate artichokes. Take them away this instant."

Wade stared. The man moved swiftly away, the color of his cheeks rising. She guessed he had to swallow his pride quite a lot where Brenda was concerned.

"That's a waste," Wade commented quietly as she watched the girl hurl the remaining artichokes to the floor.

Tanya looked up from her plate. "She does it all the time. She's gross," she replied flatly.

"She also does *that* all the time." The girl indicated her sister with a nod of the head and Wade turned to look at her.

Brenda had wandered across to the balcony railing and hung over it, staring across to the horizon. She was eating a small bar of chocolate. The wrapper hung from her fingers momentarily and then dropped. It fluttered downwards until it dropped from their sight. Wade could imagine it moving slowly and patiently until it arrived to litter the pavements of Downtown.

"Hey, it's not a garbage dump down there," Wade declared angrily as she pushed her chair back and moved towards Brenda, her attempts to maintain self-control lost for the moment.

"And what would you know about down there, little Miss Wade," Brenda drawled threateningly as she turned to face her, her eyes narrowing as she studied Wade's face.

"Nothing. Nowhere's a garbage dump, that's all, and you've got no right to treat it like that." Wade could feel her cheeks color and she was also aware of James' eyes boring into her back as he took in what she was saying. She bit her lip. It hurt not to go for her, hurl abuse at her for her uncaring, unfeeling attitude. She knew it looked as though she couldn't take Brenda on.

"Ah but that's where you're wrong sweetie, I have every right. Every right in the world. Downtown's a sham and a lie. Everyone knows that the people down there got what they deserve. Everyone knows they're lazy good for nothings. And don't tell me what to do. Don't ever tell me what to do!"

The girl stalked off towards the house and threw a cold look at James as she went.

Tanya sighed as she got up and moved towards the house. "Come on, I'll show you your room."

Wade turned and looked at James. He lowered his eyes and moved away from the pool. In the movement, Wade caught a look of resignation at his role in life and at his treatment.

She determined right then that Brenda should get what she deserved and Wade was going to try and make sure she did, if it was the last thing she did.

***

The doctor pushed open the huge metal doors of the building. Noise came pouring out, surprising to Quinn after the ominous silence of the street. Along with it came the heavenly aroma of food. Quinn had forgotten how long it had been since he last ate.

The doctor led Quinn and the others into a vast dining room. Tables ran its length that were pieced together from planks of wood and metal pipes. At all of them, men, women, and children ate ravenously from plates in front of them.

Quinn watched a woman smiling as she held a warped bottle to her baby's suckling lips. Arturo ducked back to let a little girl in ponytails run past, laughing. Rembrandt gazed around the room. His face wore a shocked expression.

"Man," he said, "it's like a party goin' on in here."

"It is," the doctor said. "This is the first real food we've had down here in the last month."

Arturo looked across the room at a row of people lined up to fill their plates with vegetables and meats. "You said the Renegades steal it from Uptown?"

The doctor looked at him with an odd, sideways glare. "Of course. You think the Uptowners ship it down here gift-wrapped twice a week? That riot you lost your friend in? It was a diversion to keep the police from noticing the food being unloaded from the shafts. Man, where have you guys been living that you don't know all this?"

Quinn pulled the collar of his jacket tighter around his neck. "Uh, it's a long story. We're from outta town. Way outta town."

The doctor shook his head, then began wading through the crowds. Quinn exchanged a glance with the others, then followed. They moved through the huddled masses, dodging running children, to reach a heavy metal door.

The door was flanked on both sides by a large and muscular man and woman in camouflage fatigues. They both held automatic rifles propped on their shoulders as they glared straight ahead. When the doctor approached, the two dropped their guns to aim them at him.

"Step away from the door, sir," the woman said. "No one's allowed in here."

"Except me," the doctor said. "I'm here to see Warfield. Tell her it's urgent. I'm not leaving until I get through to her."

The woman looked at her partner in silent communication, then leaned her gun against her shoulder again. She opened the door and stepped inside the darkened room on the other side. The woman began whispering something. Another woman's voice filtered out, slightly restrained. The guard continued to speak, her voice growing louder.

The door was yanked open from the inside. A black woman strode out. Quinn guessed she was in her late forties to early fifties. There was a no-nonsense look to her that spread from her army fatigues to her hair, tied up in a simple ponytail. Her undecorated face blazed with fury. It bore a deep scar which ran from her left temple, down her cheek and finished at the jawline.

Her voice bellowed all over the kitchen. "I thought I said I was not to be disturbed..."

Then her eyes settled on the doctor. Her demeanor immediately softened as her expression relaxed into a smile. "Oh. It's you, doc. Sorry, things have been a mess around here."

The woman dismissed her guards with a wave of her hand. "At ease. Let 'em through."

The two guards nodded and stepped back against the walls alongside the door. They raised their guns back to resting position, their eyes settling back into their former expressions - vacant, but alert.

The woman smiled and patted the head of a little girl running by. Then she headed back into her room, her boots clumping on the wooden floor. "Come on in, people. Door's wide open."

The doctor glanced at Quinn, then stepped through the door into a cramped office. The walls were covered with maps of California, ones that looked radically different than anything Quinn remembered. The individual cities were gone, leaving only a solid block that ran along the coastline, into the interior, and beyond. Newspapers were stacked along the walls on bookcases, along with numerous brown folders dripping with papers. Arturo approached them with ill-disguised interest.

The woman stepped behind a large oak desk and dropped into a rickety wooden chair. She put her feet up on the desk and pulled out a stick of gum from one of the pockets on her vest. As she unwrapped it, her eyes remained fixed on Arturo.

"So, who're your friends, Ham?" she asked.

"They're the ones I spoke to you about," the doctor said. "Gentlemen, this is Danielle Warfield, leader of the Renegades."

Warfield slipped the gum into her mouth and worked her jaw, casually. Her propped-up feet waggled slightly. "So you're the ones with the buddy Uptown, huh? Sure these guys aren't spies, Hamilton?"

The doctor, who she had called Hamilton, shook his head. "Danny, we've been working together for two years. You think I'd bring three spies into your office? Trust me, the young man's injuries were genuine, and I've seen spies before. These guys aren't even close."

Warfield raised an eyebrow. "Maybe. But lemme just say that if I find out you guys are spies, I'll cut you into bite-size pieces." She punctuated her remark with a sweep of her hand.

Quinn lunged back as a knife with a foot-long blade buried itself in the wall next to his head.

"Got it?" Warfield asked.

Quinn nodded and swallowed a lump fighting its way up his throat. "Got it."

"Yeah," Rembrandt said, "we swear, we ain't here to cause trouble. We just want our friend back, that's all."

Warfield grunted. "We'll see."

She looked over at Arturo, who was sifting through a pile of newspapers. Warfield rose up slightly in her chair. "Hey, whadda you think you're doing?"

Arturo looked up, startled, then composed himself with a smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, I was just...examining your extensive collection of newspaper clippings. It seems as if you've gathered quite a bit of information about this world."

Quinn caught the emphasis the professor put on his last phrase. He saw the opportunity, as did Rembrandt, to find out more about this place they were in.

Warfield settled back in her chair, keeping her brown eyes fixed on Arturo. "Yeah...well...some day, this world'll either get turned upside-down, and the lower classes will be freed from their prison or...we'll be gone, and something has to be left behind to tell our story. So I collect newspapers from the old days, trying to piece together a history of the void that grew between the classes. That kinda stuff."

"Of course," Arturo said. "I don't suppose you'd mind if I examined them?"

"Nah. Just make sure you don't get them mixed-up. I've got a system." Warfield settled back in her chair and popped her gum.

Arturo gave Quinn a triumphant grin as he slipped on his glasses to read the front page of one of the papers.

Rembrandt looked around the office. "So, uh, you guys are like rebels or somethin', huh? Robin Hood, robbin' the rich and givin' to the poor, stuff like that?"

Warfield smirked around the gum in her mouth. "I look like Robin Hood to you? No, we're an army, the only defense the poor have against those monsters Uptown who'd be happy to let us all die of starvation or thirst down here. My people bring the poor food, tap into the water lines to get them something to drink, sure, that whole merry-men jazz. Because it needs to be done. No one else can do it. But we do more than that. Something that hurts the Uptowners more than anything else."

Warfield leaned forward, her boots dropping to the floor with a slam. She glared at Rembrandt with eyes that burned with an inner flame. "We force them to remember us. We break through the glass ceiling they've put up, poke our heads up every now and then, and say 'Hey, remember us? The couple billion people you locked out of your little skybound paradise? Well, we're still here, living in your shadow and eating your garbage, and we're not going away.' We force them to see that we *exist.* That we're still human beings with feelings and hopes and dreams and loves..."

Warfield stopped to glance at Hamilton, then let her eyes drop. "That's what we do. Nothing more, nothing less."

Dr. Hamilton grinned. "Don't be so modest, Danielle. She's done more for the Downtowners than anyone in history. She gives us food, clothing, rebuilds abandoned houses and shops and turns them into shelters, and even brings me medical supplies."

"It's the least I can do," Warfield said, then grinned at Quinn. "You see this guy? He's the real hero. Spent his whole life Uptown, then one day he comes Downtown. Takes all his medical training with him, leaves his whole life behind to help us. I swear, he's saved more lives than I've had hot dinners."

Rembrandt stared at Hamilton. "Really, man? That's wild."

Hamilton lowered his eyes to the floor. "It's...nothing. My parents were from Downtown, managed to get Uptown and settle in. They paid my way through medical school. They told me all about life down here. Eventually, I got sick of dressing paper cuts for the Uptowners while people died of preventable diseases down here. I just took my talents where they were needed."

"Incredible," Arturo murmured as he glanced at the doctor.

Hamilton cleared his throat, then shook his head. "All right, let's get started. Danielle, you were telling me what we could do to help these people."

"Oh, yeah." Warfield clasped her fingers together. "Well, you guys are in luck. We're gonna be bringing in another shipment of food through the shafts..."

"The shafts?" Quinn asked.

Warfield stared at him. "Yeah, the abandoned elevator shafts. Only way in or out of Uptown because the cops patrol the sky above the fifteen floors. Well, the next shipment is tomorrow. Figure the Uptowners'll never expect us to try it again so soon. So while we're at it, your friend might be able to slip down. Although I have to admit this is the first time I've ever heard of anyone trying to break *out* of Uptown instead of into it."

Rembrandt clapped Quinn on the shoulder. "Great. But, uh... how'll Wade know what to do?"

"We'll send her a message. We've planted moles all over Uptown. Downtowners who work for the Uptowners while they're secretly working for us. One of 'em will be able to find and make contact with her." Warfield ripped a piece of paper off a notepad and dug out a pen from her desk drawer. "Gimme a description of her and we'll see what we come up with."

Quinn nodded, then began to describe her. As he did so, he couldn't help wondering whether the Uptown mole would find Wade alive.

***

Wade stepped somewhat reluctantly from the bath and toweled herself dry, pulling the peach colored kimono-style robe over her head once she'd finished.

The guest room was luxurious by even the best hotel standards back on their own world. Its own spacious bathroom a mere footstep to the side. The bath was an enormous shell shape of pastel peach. Gold taps shaped like swans overhung one end and the other end was completely padded, allowing the occupant to lie back in complete comfort.

Now she sat perched on the padded stool in front of the dressing table and rubbed at her hair vigorously. It felt good, just being clean and in something new.

The perfumes arranged in front of her were all tempting and she reached across and tried one which looked interesting, spraying it minutely onto the back of her hand.

She sniffed at the result and smiled. The guys would like that one. A pang of regret tore through her system as memories of her friends surfaced. She felt selfish. Here she was enjoying a good bath, food and a luxurious lifestyle while they were stuck down in the degradation and dirt.

She had no way of knowing whether they'd survived the riots even. Back home she could have checked out the evening news... Television! That was it. She'd check out the news. Surely there'd be pictures and information about what had happened. They might even mention casualties and where the injured were taken. Her hopes rose.

She opened her door which led directly into Tanya's room. The girl looked up as Wade walked in and smiled.

"Feel better?" Tanya murmured as she put her nose back into her book.

"Yeah. Thanks. Cleaner anyway. Look, do you think I could listen to the news or something on the TV?" Wade tried to appear nonchalant in her request but her stomach was churning.

"What do you want to listen to *that* for?" Tanya replied, not raising her eyes. "It's really gross. There's never anything important on it."

"All the same I'd like to see it. Might jog my memory as to why I ended up down there," Wade lied, her fingers mentally crossed that she sounded convincing.

"Sure. The news is due on in about five minutes. If you really want, suit yourself, but I bet it won't help you."

Tanya got up and flicked a switch on the wall. The panel slid upwards revealing a large screen. She settled back to the floor and her books, aiming a remote control at the panel beside the screen without looking.

Wade sank to the floor next to Tanya and crossed her legs. She ran her fingers lightly through her still damp hair to get it into some sort of shape as it dried.

The commercials which were playing were as stupid as the ones she was used to seeing back home. The only difference was that everything was a luxury item and the only people they seemed to be aimed at were high earners. Wade mentally shrugged. Seemed applicable somehow in this society.

The News fanfare heralded the first story. Wade watched it. She watched the second, then the third story. Then some item on the best place to go to get your hover vehicle valeted seemed to take up about five minutes. As swiftly as it had started, the News program ended. Three news items which seemed to Wade to be fatuous, and the longest item was on getting your vehicle cleaned. She swallowed hard and caught Tanya eyeing her with interest.

"See anything to help?" Tanya inquired, her eyes narrowing.

"I just wondered why those riots weren't mentioned. I mean the one I got caught up in. There were a lot of people hurt down there, I saw it. I mean probably lot's of people killed too. Why no news coverage? Isn't a riot important?" Wade stared at Tanya for an instant and almost saw the girl's mind whirring.

"They don't ever mention Downtown. Not unless it's a public information program which broadcasts the importance of keeping your eyes open for people trying to get in here." Tanya averted her gaze and put her nose back into her book once more.

"That's terrible. There are people down there. People dying. People living in terrible conditions. Doesn't anyone care?" Wade bit her lip. Perhaps she shouldn't have said that. She wasn't sure she could trust Tanya even.

Tanya didn't look up, though Wade saw her shift uncomfortably on her crossed legs.

"Don't ever let anyone hear you say that," she mumbled almost inaudibly.

"Why not?" Wade asked softly, her voice muted so that only Tanya could catch it.

"No one talks about it. If you acknowledge the problems of Downtown, you could be accused of being a Downtown spy. You could get in a lot of trouble. So just don't say it."

Wade watched as Tanya lifted her hand and wiped the back of it briefly across her face. She caught the reflection of the moisture as she put it back down.

She wouldn't press it. Couldn't. Not now. But she would soon. She'd find out more about what was bothering Tanya so much. It wasn't just Downtown it was something else. Of that Wade was sure.

As she moved back towards her room to change for the night, she cast her eyes swiftly back towards the girl. The head was bowed and the eyes apparently boring into the book. That she was no longer reading it, Wade was certain.

***

Warfield spat her gum into the trash can beside her chair and drew a fresh stick from her vest pocket . "Look, the night's closing in. "You can't sleep here in the shelter, but I'll find you somewhere for the night. Just tonight, mind you. Tomorrow you'll meet up with your friend and leave. I'll know in the morning if one of my people found her or not."

"Why can't we stay here?" Quinn asked with interest. The place was a virtual fortress, it seemed unlikely they'd get into any hassle under Warfield's protection.

Warfield grinned. "A pretty boy like you would be dead meat for the gangs. You're healthy, well-fed, and you've got nice clothes. To them you could be an Uptowner. If they even suspected that, you'd be dead. And the Prof here'd be torn apart, with his high falutin' accent. Nah. You're better off staying with a friend of mine. Someone I can trust. Someone I don't have to worry about sticking a knife in your backs." She leaned forward on her seat and dug her knife into the table top, pushing it deeper as if to push home the sentiment.

Rembrandt swallowed at the imagery Warfield presented, then asked, "What's the gangs got to do with us staying here?"

"Well now, I got my supplies to look after. We got an arrangement, me and some of the gang leaders. Tonight I got to prepare for a meeting with one of them tomorrow. Set up tomorrow night's little bit of chaos so we can get some more stuff from the shafts. I don't want you complicatin' things. You go with Ham and he'll take you to my friend's house. She'll take care of you all." Warfield smiled at Hamilton as he arrived as though on cue and lounged in the doorway.

"Danny, you want me to take them to Clara's?" he asked as he pushed some boxes of what looked like pills into a bag ready to take.

"Yeah. And give her this for me." Warfield put her feet to the floor and got up, handing a brown bag to the doctor.

Hamilton smiled and reaching across he planted a kiss on the top of her head. "You're soft really Danny, you know that?"

"Yeah, well don't you go tellin' my men that, now!" she replied and Quinn caught the color in her cheeks rise in embarrassment.

"Come on we'd better get a move on." Hamilton urged as Quinn and Rembrandt followed his lead. "Clara's is two blocks down and it's getting dark."

"Come on Professor," he repeated seeing the still form of Arturo poring over a small pile of newspapers on his lap. "You don't want to meet what comes out at night here, believe me."

"May I urge you to let me borrow these for the night, madam?" Arturo asked over his glasses, his eyes pleading with Warfield, his ears having disregarded the warning from the doctor.

She regarded him carefully then nodded with a slight flick of her head. "Sure. Guard them with your life though. I got a system, like I said. Never had anyone so interested in my collection before. Maybe there's hope left down here after all."

Arturo smiled and bowed his head in appreciation, tucking the remaining few papers under his coat as he followed the others.

***

Clara's "house" consisted of two small storerooms on the ground floor of an old long-abandoned Department store building. The night-time had settled in for real by the time the group reached her front door. It was barely visible behind a barricade of wooden planks across it.

The two foot soldiers which Warfield had sent to guide the group disappeared as swiftly into the night as they had arrived.

"You from Danny?" the voice murmured softly from behind the wood.

"Yes, it's Dr. Hamilton and a small group," the doctor whispered back through the door. "Danny said they should stay here. Just the one night. I can't get back to the shelter now, so I'd appreciate some hospitality too."

The wood moved backwards, revealing the small diminutive figure of a young woman in her late twenties. Her face was pale and seemed to be shadowed with the pain and wear of living on the edge the whole time. A baby, not much older than a year, nestled against her neck, its feet wrapped around her waist. It had its thumb stuffed in its mouth and its eyes looked as dark as its mother's.

"We're very grateful, madam," Arturo offered as he moved through the door into the dimly lit interior. It was barely warmer inside than outside, but a small open fire burned in a trash can in the corner of the room.

"What's with him?" The woman inclined her head towards Arturo as she locked eyes with Hamilton.

"They're from out of town," the doctor replied nonchalantly. Whether he was sure of their story or not, he was obviously doing a good job of convincing everyone else, Quinn realized.

"Old mattresses is over there. Help yourself," Clara said. "I ain't got enough food for me and the kid. If you ain't eaten with Danny then I guess you're out of luck," she added. She took the brown bag sent from Warfield and nodded silently at the doctor.

Quinn watched as two containers of milk came out of the bag. The woman moved to the corner of the room to give her child a drink. He swallowed hard and pushed all thoughts of any hunger away. He had no right to eat when they had little or nothing. He caught the look on the doctor's face and their eyes met.

In that look Quinn knew the doctor felt the same.

The doctor, Quinn and Rembrandt settled themselves down on the filthy mattresses and pulled their coats around them. They lay and listened to the cold wind whip around the door outside as Arturo settled himself down next to the open fire, his coat wrapped around him.

He studied the newspapers which he had borrowed with ever growing interest and a deep sense of unease. A world gone mad, and yet one which in some ways reflected their own.

***

Wade stood at the window and watched the lights of Uptown twinkle across the night sky. Magical almost. It reminded her of when she was small and dreamt of fairy villages, the lights sparkling against a dark sky, the inhabitants going about their business behind the tiny closed doors.

Yet she knew in her heart that her friends weren't in such luxury. From what she'd seen in her small glimpse of Downtown it was probably hell. She couldn't enjoy being here, not with them down there.

She gazed at the bed, its soft comfortable mattress and warm quilt beckoning her. She threw back her head and pursed her lips. She had work to do.

The door to Tanya's room opened slowly and easily. Not a creak to be heard in such a well serviced household.

She could see the top of Tanya's head poking from beneath her bed cover. The sound of steady breathing was the only noise in the stillness. The room was in darkness. Wade tiptoed slowly across to the far side and out through the bedroom door. Next to Tanya's room was another door which led into Tanya's small study. She'd glimpsed it earlier, it contained the computer system which held the secrets, and perhaps the means, to a way out of this place. The computer which interfaced with the virtual-reality system. Wade could use it, she knew she could. She had to be able to pull it off, and she had to do it now. With no way of knowing when they were due to slide, she had to get out of Uptown tomorrow at the latest.

She closed the door gently behind her and sat herself in front of the VR computer. She switched the machine on and the instant glow from the screen lit the room. The room was already partially lit by a small lamp glowing in the corner. Tanya had obviously forgotten to turn it off.

Wade moved quietly across the room to it. She didn't need it on. The glow from the computer would be enough and would call less attention to her if anyone passed by in the hallway outside. She could ill-afford to be disturbed.

As she put her hand forward to turn the lamp off, her eye was caught by a photograph lying half in and half out of an old book, next to the lamp.

She pulled it out gently and turned it over. She gazed curiously at the face which stared up at her. Wade guessed he had been in his forties at the time of the photograph. He was smiling. The small touch of gray hair at his temples added a distinguished air to his handsome, pleasant face. The eyes were dark and filled with compassion.

Wade liked him immediately. The signature and message scrawled across the bottom were difficult to read, especially in the dim light. Wade moved the writing directly under the lamp and read the inscription.

"To my beloved Tanya. Keep the faith my darling and don't forget me. Daddy."

Wade stared at the photograph for a moment, then carefully replaced it in the book where she had found it. She had a feeling it was very important to Tanya.

She turned her attention to the computer again. Her training in computers served her well as she adjusted to the highly advanced operating system which the computer ran under. Her main concern was in gaining access to some sort of library that would explain how this world worked. She hoped that information would help her find a way out of this mess.

Wade finally found a help menu instructing her on the use of the VR booth. According to instructions, the booth would allow her to connect to the West Coast Public Library, a massive library that served the entire west coast of the United States. She started the connection and left the computer to try the booth.

Wade found a pair of gloves lying beside the door of the booth. They were exactly the same as the ones she'd seen Brenda wearing earlier. She pulled them on. They contained tactile sensors that would convey textures to her through the lining. Climbing inside, Wade found a treadmill that would allow her to walk and navigate through the virtual world.

When she closed the door, Wade was in darkness for a moment, then the walls of the booth lit up. Cameras projected images onto them that combined to form a 360-degree landscape.

And what a landscape. It was a sea of geometric patterns of all colors and shapes, gliding across an ocean of silvery waters like mercury. Wade reached down towards the wall. Her gloves came into contact with the waters, and felt slippery, as if she was moving her hands through them.

"No doubt about it," Wade murmured. "I gotta get me one o' these when I get home."

She straightened up and looked around. One of the squares that drifted past had PUBLIC LIBRARY etched into its side like the carvings on a tombstone. Wade reached towards it. She also, almost subconsciously, began to walk. The treadmill rolled under her. The landscape began to move, simulating her walking towards the square. Wade finally managed to touch it through her gloves.

The square exploded, engulfing her.

After the initial shock wore off, Wade realized her surroundings had changed to the interior of a library. Rows of shelved books stretched into infinity around her. In the center of the room was a pedestal with a keyboard hovering a few inches over it.

Wade walked towards it, wriggled her fingers, and began to type on the keyboard. Her hands seemed to pass through the keyboard, but the letters she touched hovered in midair. It was a card catalogue, as she'd suspected, and Wade typed in the category "World History." A list of titles materialized in the air in front of her. Wade touched one of them.

One of the books drifted off its shelf to hover in front of her, its pages open. Wade hit a button on the keyboard marked "Print Out." She could hear the frenzied humming of a printer outside the booth, working a hundred times faster than any printer she knew on her world.

Wade selected another book. She ordered a printout of that one too and began to make her way methodically down the list.

* * *

Quinn woke up. His first thought was that his head wasn't hurting anymore. Unfortunately, his back had gotten into the act. The mattresses he and the others had slept on weren't exactly stuffed with clouds. But he supposed they were as good as beds got in this place.

Rembrandt and Arturo were already up. Arturo was leaning against a wall riddled with holes, peering through his glasses at a yellowed newspaper in his hands. Rembrandt was in a corner, dipping a ladle in a dented bucket of water. Other than the three of them, the room was empty.

Rembrandt took a sip of water before saying, "Mornin', Q-Ball. How'd you sleep?"

"Like a rock," Quinn said. "Guess I was more tired than I thought. Where's Clara and the doctor?"

"They went out to retrieve our breakfast," Arturo said. "Such as it is."

Quinn crawled over to him, trying not to hear the squeaking and scuttling coming from inside the walls. "Find anything in those papers about the history of this world, Professor?"

Arturo lowered the newspapers. "Yes, as a matter of fact I've found out quite a lot. They seem to have had a similar Industrial Revolution to our own world in the 1900's. The problem was that automation spread much more rapidly here than it did in our own world."

"Meaning?" asked Quinn.

"Meaning, my dear Mr. Mallory, that by the 1930's virtually all forms of industry had phased out human workers. The result was rampant unemployment. Quite simply, the Great Depression came and never ended."

"So what's with all the skyscrapers and all that Uptown jazz?" Rembrandt asked.

"Well," Arturo said, "the upper classes did not want to face the misery of the lower classes. So they began building their homes at the top of skyscrapers, where they could live without distraction. The result is what we see here; cities consisting of nothing but skyscrapers, housing the rich while the poor live below."

"And that's why this place is such a wreck?" Quinn said.

Arturo held up a finger. "Actually no. From what I've found out, everything came to a head in the early eighties. By that time, government welfare and support programs were completely overloaded by the needs of the poor."

Rembrandt sighed. "We're close to that back home."

Arturo nodded and continued. "In 1984, the U.S disbanded their government aid programs. Food stamps, welfare, Social Security...everything ceased. The focus was turned to the wealthy, basically leaving the rest to struggle out a meager existence on their own. From the reports I saw, other nations followed suit, resulting in the world of decay that we see before us."

Rembrandt shook his head. "I can't believe that. I mean, what kinda sick world would do that to their own people?"

Quinn was about to voice equal sentiments when the door of the cramped room opened. Clara walked in with her baby on her back, her arms cradling a sack of groceries.

"You people are in luck," Hamilton said. "Managed to get a surplus on rations from last night."

Clara knelt and shook a loaf of misshapen bread out of the bag. It was only a foot long, but Clara and Hamilton looked at it like it was made of gold. Clara began to slice the loaf carefully into small portions.

"So," Hamilton said, "where are you people from? And I mean really. I'm tired of this 'out-of-town' nonsense. You all act like you've never seen this planet before."

Quinn looked at Arturo, who shrugged. There was no getting around it. Quinn took a deep breath, then said, "We're from another dimension. A parallel Earth. The next gateway to another world opens up soon, and we have to find our friend, Wade, so we can take her with us."

Hamilton stared at him, then looked at the others. "I see. You people are insane."

"I assure you, sir," Arturo said, "we speak the truth."

"I'm sure you believe it is," Hamilton said. "But you'll forgive me if I don't buy your alien stories. Ever since Uptown started dumping their mentally-ill citizens down here, I've heard a lot of interesting stuff from people a lot more normal-looking than yourself. But at least you guys have some originality."

Clara finished cutting the loaf and began passing pieces around. Quinn took his and felt a rush of guilt as he watched her begin tending to her baby. It wasn't right for him to taking food literally from her mouth. But he didn't want to offend them and he was starving. So he ate.

Arturo took a bite, then said, "I've been reading about your world. Your friend Danielle said she had agents planted among the Uptown population, yet as I understand it, no Downtowner is allowed there. How was this made possible?"

"The Uptowners aren't too crazy about robots," Hamilton said. "So they occasionally hire Downtowners as servants. Only a small minority are hired, though. The Uptowners have a rigorous set of criteria, mostly based on physical appearance."

"That's why I'm here," Clara said. "I think I have a good shot at making it through the auctions to Uptown. It's my dream, anyway. These days, the only jobs left are up there."

Quinn glanced at Clara as she spoke. Despite the streaks of grime and untidy strands of hair which hung limply off her face, he could see that she was an attractive woman.

"Danny's managed to slip a few of her men and women through the auctions and place them in key positions."

"Lemme ask you somethin'," Rembrandt said. "I know why you're here, but what's Warfield's story? Why's she do all this?"

"Danielle used to be a Downtowner," Hamilton said, "until she was drafted during the Gulf Wars. She spent almost a decade serving her country, but her face was scarred by shrapnel from an anti-personnel mine."

Clara swallowed a mouthful of bread and spoke in a bitter voice. "Yeah, they promised her a position Uptown when she returned, but they couldn't handle that one imperfection, her war scar. So they decided to show their gratitude like only the Uptowners can - by declaring her insane and dumping her down here. She does this for a lot of reasons, but revenge is at the top of her list."

Hamilton ate the last of his bread and brushed off his hands. "I hope you all had a good night's sleep, because you've got a very busy day ahead of you. We're all taking a trip with the Renegades to the West Side, and pay a little visit to the Nightmares."

The walk back to Danielle's den was uneventful. Mostly because the leader had sent two men to escort the group safely back again.

Quinn was under no illusion that it was the presence of Hamilton which gave rise to such displays of protectiveness in the seemingly hard, and uncompromising leader.

The scenes which unfolded as they walked were reminiscent of a war zone rather than a living, breathing society. Buses and cars were scattered at the sides of the streets. Some of the buses had been commandeered by families as makeshift homes. Although Quinn got the impression that a lot of them were hardly makeshift. An air of permanency hung across the whole landscape like a shroud.

Arturo sighed as he walked next to Rembrandt. "I cannot imagine a life of such degradation and poverty."

Rembrandt glanced at the professor. "I'll bet you can't." Then he looked away.

Arturo slowed his pace as he glared at Rembrandt. "And what's that supposed to mean. Eh? Are you suggesting that I have never experienced poverty? Because that is untrue, Mr. Brown. There have been times in my life where I have been in dire straits, financially."

Rembrandt stopped. Arturo stopped. Quinn froze. He watched as Rembrandt slowly turned his gaze onto the professor.

"You have no idea what these people are goin' through," Rembrandt said in a low voice. "You don't know what it's like to wake up one mornin' and find out you don't have a dime in the world. To stand on a street corner and make yourself an object o' scorn and pity just so you can get enough change to live another day. To watch your children be so hungry they cry, and not be able to do a thing about it. To not have a roof over your head, to not be able to come in outta the rain or the snow or the cold or the heat. You have no idea. Because if you did... you'd be able to imagine this life pretty easy."

Agitation was a mere heartbeat away, Quinn could tell. It would only take one badly thought out remark from Arturo to set the whole ball rolling.

The remark took two seconds to appear.

Arturo shook his head and tutted loudly. "I'm sure you're right, Mr Brown. And my heartfelt sympathies go out to them all. But a *complete* society based on such filth and squalor is beyond me."

Quinn winced.

Rembrandt glared at Arturo ."Well it might be beyond you, Mr High and Mighty, but just like I said there's a lot of proud folk back on our own world who'd look at this little old set up and see their own lives reflected. If you can't see that then you and I live in a different world, Professor." He moved ahead to walk with Dr Hamilton.

"Considering what you just said, Professor, I think Remmy's being very restrained," Quinn remarked as he moved to walk alongside his mentor.

Arturo shook his head.

"I didn't mean to upset anyone. Just voicing my opinion, that was all," he replied sadly.

"Well I think most people would find what you said upsetting, Professor," Quinn continued slowly.

"Well blast it, will someone tell me what I said wrong!" Arturo stopped and declared loudly. He looked at Quinn.

Quinn swallowed and met his Professor's gaze. They'd been through a lot together and he owed it to the sanity of the group to point out to his friend exactly what he'd said wrong.

"Well...'heartfelt sympathies' for a first off," Quinn offered quietly and inwardly winced. The explosion didn't happen.

Instead Arturo sighed.

"It wasn't meant like that," he remarked and then fixed his gaze on Rembrandt ahead of him.

Quinn watched the Professor move forwards and put a reconciling hand on Rembrandt's shoulder. There was a brief exchange and Quinn watched Remmy nod.

Quinn relaxed.

As they turned the corner and came face to face with Danielle and several of her bodyguards, Quinn's heart began to sink. The Renegades were well tooled up this time and it looked almost as if they were heading into battle rather than a meeting with a gang leader.

Guns were leaning up against the wall and there was an atmosphere of frenetic activity as Danielle's men and women loaded their weapons and draped their ammunition magazines around their shoulders.

"Come on, you're late. I don't take kindly to anyone keeping me waiting. You want your friend out or not?" Danielle remarked as she led the group away from the barriers outside the Renegade's headquarters and they started to move into the darkness which represented the West Side district beyond.

Hamilton turned towards the three men as they walked. "The Nightmare are going to get a surprise when this lot turn up," he said.

"Who are these 'Nightmares'?" Quinn asked.

Hamilton smirked and explained. "The gang which Danielle does business with."

Quinn and Remmy exchanged worried looks.

Hamilton continued, "Now keep quiet and don't say anything unless you're asked. Don't tell them you're from outer space or any of those other stories you've cooked up. They'll kill you on sight if they think you're messing with them. Let Danny do the talking."

"Why are we going to see them now?" Quinn asked curiously as he walked alongside Rembrandt.

Hamilton's look was uncompromising as he swung around and met Quinn's gaze full on.

"Because if you want to get your friend down here safely, Danny needs this gang on her side tonight. If you screw up with them at all then you can say good-bye to your girlfriend. Those guns won't be for decoration. Some of the people here will die, and they know it. But they do it because they have to. Don't think this is a game or easy. It's neither. It's about life or death. Danny needs more men and she needs more firepower if she's going to go up against the Uptown police tonight. Without the Nightmare's help we don't stand a chance of getting your friend out of the shafts alive."

***

Wade stretched her arms above her head and eased out the stiffness which had developed in her fingers after several hours of keyboard work inside the VR booth. Her legs ached too from walking on the treadmill over such a long period of time.

Strangely she hadn't noticed any discomfort until she'd disconnected from the library and the booth had stopped its image projection. Up until then she'd been so absorbed in what she was seeing and finding out, personal discomfort mattered little.

She swung the door of the booth open slowly. The dim light from a new dawn was creeping under the door. In a few hours the whole house would be up and she didn't feel up to interrogation by Brenda or even Tanya for that matter.

She looked in amazement at the printer at the side. Sheet after sheet had spilled into the tray behind it. Page after page of information which she'd instructed it to print, and which, she realized with a sigh, that she had to work through before the house got up. She'd gleaned an enormous amount of information just by looking, now she wanted to digest what she'd seen at her leisure.

She glanced at the clock. Four o'clock. She had at least two hours before Tanya stirred and she doubted if Brenda rose early at all. She probably needed her beauty sleep. Wade grimaced at the thought of the vain young woman two doors down.

She crept slowly out of the small study and moved along the passage carefully towards Tanya's room. She knew that once in there she'd be able to creep quietly past Tanya's bed and into her own adjacent room. But getting there was the first obstacle.

The hand on her shoulder was hard and uncompromising. Its grip intense.

Wade found herself swung around swiftly and stared straight into the face of Charles.

"Sneaking around'll get you Downtown quicker than you ever imagined," he hissed and looked at the papers in her hands. He grabbed them from her, studied the top few sentences and glowered.

"I was told you were resourceful. Stupid? No. If that bitch finds out you've been printing out from the library you're dead meat. You want out of here or not?"

Wade's eyes widened at his words. She hadn't been expecting help from any quarter. Not up here.

"Who told you I was resourceful?" she demanded in a low voice as she tried to wriggle free from his grip.

"Your friends. They're trying to get you out of here. I've been told to give you a message," Charles replied, relaxing his grip slightly.

"My friends? They're alive? You've spoken to them? How are they? I mean they're okay, aren't they?" The words tumbled out, louder than Wade had intended.

Charles put a hand firmly across her mouth.

"Keep it down will you. Do you want us both doing an unscheduled jump from the roof?"

Wade mumbled an apology but her heart was racing. Her friends alive. She knew they'd come for her. She knew in her heart they'd try to get to her before the Slide. That meant the Slide wasn't scheduled yet. Wade breathed a deep sigh.

"Be ready to leave tonight. About eleven o'clock. After everyone's gone to bed. Make sure you're dressed for climbing, nothing fancy. Don't do anything to arouse suspicion today. Just go along with anything they want. Stay cool until tonight and by this time tomorrow you might be back with your friends." Charles looked around him nervously and then passed Wade a small metallic disk.

She gazed at it and then looked up questioningly.

"If I don't show or anything happens to me tonight before we make it, this will prove to the Renegades that you're legit."

"And if I don't have this?" Wade asked, pressing the disk into the palm of her hand and closing her fingers tightly over it.

"They'll kill you," Charles replied quietly. "Listen, if I haven't shown by eleven fifteen then assume something's happened. Leave the house and go to the ventilation housing behind the pool. The metal casing's loose. There's a ladder which goes part way down and takes you to the top of the lift shaft. The lifts will take you to around the fifteenth floor. You'll have to ride the top. You'd attract too much attention if you go inside. When it stops at fifteen there's a small tunnel which leads off to the side. Crawl into that and wait for the lift to go back up. Once it's gone you can rappel down the ropes the rest of the way to the basement. Your friends will be waiting at the bottom of that shaft, and that shaft only."

Wade swallowed. Fifteen floors to go down by rope. No safety ropes, no net at the bottom. She'd be on her own.

"How will I know when the lift is on the fifteenth floor?" she asked suddenly.

Charles grimaced and Wade thought she saw a flash of pain cross his eyes as he replied. Memories of something, though Wade couldn't be sure what.

"Some joker's painted a skull and crossbones on the wall next to the lift shaft on fifteen, just above the side tunnel. It's a sign to everyone that what they're about to try is probably suicide. So many people have died trying this little number that the authorities don't even bother to monitor this particular shaft anymore. All they ever find there is bodies. Lots of them. That's why it's your best bet to get away." Charles paused.

"Go to your room before you arouse any suspicions. If all goes well I'll see you tonight."

Wade moved towards Tanya's room and then hesitated. She turned and caught Charles's eye.

"Thank you," she mouthed silently. He arched his eyebrows in acknowledgement and then moved back towards the main living area of the house.

As Wade opened the door to Tanya's room quietly she didn't hear the gentle but fast scuffle of feet across the carpet to Tanya's bed, and the eyes which closed swiftly under the bedclothes as Wade tiptoed into her own bedroom and closed the door.

Tanya's thoughts started to race.

***

Danielle Warfield and the Renegades led Quinn and the others to a heavily-armored van that looked like it had been built from hundreds of spare parts. Warfield pulled herself through the open door into the driver's seat as her men and women began loading crates into the back.

Quinn climbed into the back of the van. The Renegades were breaking open the crates with crowbars. One of them started handing out their contents - missile launchers and grenades.

The Renegade thrust an Uzi into Rembrandt's hands. "Know how to use one of these?"

"Uh, I think so," Rembrandt said. "Had a little weapons training back in the navy."

Arturo recoiled in distaste as he was handed a gun. "Is it really necessary for us to come on this little guerrilla mission of yours?"

Warfield leaned out from her seat to glare back at them. "We're never gonna rescue your friend without help. So we need the Nightmares. And since it's your friend, you get to help us with the recruitment. I don't do anything for free, and could use the extra manpower. If you're scared, then get out now and forget Wade, because this is your only chance of saving her."

Quinn drew back the lever on his Uzi with a loud snap. "No. Let's do it."

Arturo murmured to himself, but echoed his movement. Rembrandt gripped his weapon and gave a menacing snarl. Quinn remembered his surprise when he'd first seen that side of his friend in Sorcerer World. But since then, Quinn had come to accept Rembrandt's darker side. It had come in handy many times.

The Renegades hung onto the struts inside the van as Warfield shifted the vehicle into gear. She pulled away from the curb to roar down the battered street.

It rumbled along for what felt like fifteen minutes until the van passed under a rickety arch which had been spray- painted with a skull symbol, followed by the words "Enter And Face Your Worst Nightmares."

*** A soothing voice awakened Wade with the message, "Good morning, Wade. It's eight o'clock. Time for breakfast. Have a lovely day."

Wade oozed back to consciousness. She fought the waves of exhaustion which she felt after only an hour's sleep. She opened an eye and caught sight of the printouts sprawled across the bed. A pang of alarm tore through her system. She opened her other eye and saw a woman in a maid's costume walking to the door. Her rigid smile and slightly off- balance walk told her it was another robot. Wade fell back against the pillow in relief and then swiftly gathered up the printouts before someone else came in. She dragged herself out of the bed and stuffed the paper into a drawer in a dressing table. When it was safely hidden, she slumped over to the closet. It opened immediately as she approached it. Inside was a dazzling array of fashionable clothing in a wide variety of styles.

Another voice similar to the robot-maid's came from the closet. "Sensors indicate that the following selections are in your size."

The racks on the closet hummed as they rearranged themselves on conveyor belts. When they stopped moving, Wade faced a row of clothing and shoes, all in her size. She chose a few items that looked like they were the least expensive, just to avoid being too ostentatious. She still didn't feel comfortable in such luxury while her friends were trapped in the shattered world of Downtown. But even the simple clothes she selected looked like they were well out of her price range on her world.

The family were gathered in the kitchen. Sunlight fell through the balcony window onto the pancakes, bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, and other more exotic foods piled on the table. Light classical music filled the air.

Charles was hovering nearby, refilling Brenda's glass with orange juice. He glanced at Wade for a second. Just a second. Then looked away, as impassive as ever. But in that second, he made a connection with Wade, softly reminding her of their conversation.

Wade tried to look casual as she sat down at an empty seat. Tanya looked up from the book she was reading to smile at her, but Brenda ignored her, continuing to eat her eggs without looking up.

Grace looked up from a plate of fried fish. "Ah, our little visitor awakes. Well, I hope you're all rested up, darling. We've got a busy day ahead of you. First, we'll hit the town, getting you some fresh clothes..."

"I already have clothes," Wade said.

"Oh, those old things," Grace said, waving a hand. "We just keep them around for rags. No, we're going to set you up with some proper attire, sweetie. Then we'll get a makeover at a wonderful beauty salon I know."

Brenda swallowed, then gave Wade an exaggerated sweet smile. "You should look forward to that, sweetie. You could use a little sprucing up."

Wade sneered at Brenda as Charles spooned eggs onto her plate. "Well, I suppose you'd know all about that, 'sweetie.' I can see you require a lot of maintenance."

Brenda's smile dissolved into a snarl. "How dare you speak to me..."

Grace clapped her hands. "Ladies, please. Let's keep it civil, shall we, darlings? Now, after the salon we can see about getting you a servant. There's an auction at twelve, and you'll be able to see my charity work first hand. After that, a quick visit to the police again, then the psychiatrist to see if we can't straighten you out, poor thing."

Wade looked up from her plate. "Did you say police?"

"Yes, just a quick visit, sweetie. I promised them I'd take you around to see them again for a check-up, see if they've made any progress in finding out who you are."

"Oh." Wade picked at her meal with her fork. "Goodie."

Brenda winced, then picked up her plate. "Charles, I thought I told you to tell the cook that I don't like my eggs runny."

Charles bowed, slightly. "I did, madam. He cooked the eggs especially..."

"Just look at this," Brenda screamed. "It's practically raw!"

"No, it's not," Wade said. "It's fine. Very good, actually, best I've ever..."

"Maybe you're used to eating peasant food," Brenda snarled, "but I'm not."

She threw the plate over her shoulder. It flew out of the open balcony door and over the side, down to the distant street below. Wade listened for the crash, but heard nothing.

Brenda suddenly regained her composure to sigh and rise to her feet. "Well, that was an absolutely horrid meal, so if you'll excuse me, I'll be going. There's a VR fashion show in Brussels that I hear is just divine."

She strode out of the room, humming to herself. Wade watched her go in awe.

Tanya turned the page of her book as she whispered, "Yes, it's a hard life my sister leads, but she somehow manages to cope."

***

Quinn held onto the side of the van as it lurched down the road, the wheels crushing chunks of concrete underneath them. The Renegades were all loading and checking their guns as Warfield led them in a rousing rendition of the song "In The Jungle."

Rembrandt looked over at Hamilton. "Hey, man, what do these Nightmare guys do, anyway?"

"They're drug dealers," Hamilton said. "They manufacture narcotics for Uptown and Downtown, but mostly Uptown. They make all the drugs down here, then the police ship them Uptown."

"The police?" Arturo said. "The police handle narcotics? I find that astonishing."

Hamilton raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well, on our world, the police work to eliminate the drug problem, not encourage it. Narcotics are illegal."

Hamilton looked away to glare out his window. "Not in this world. In this world, it's only illegal Downtown. Uptown, they can smoke and shoot up whatever they want, and often do. They just don't want it in their backyards, so to speak. So we get all the negatives of drug manufacturing - junkies, turf wars, murders, our homes converted into druglabs - while Uptown reaps the benefits."

"This world is so unfair," Quinn said.

"Yeah, that's life, Q-Ball," Rembrandt murmured.

Warfield stopped the song with a raised hand. "Hold it, everybody. We're approaching the compound."

By the dim light of the sun breaking through the skyscrapers above, Quinn could see what had once been a massive factory looming ahead of them. It was now battered and decayed, but smoke poured from its elongated chimneys. Men in black outfits paced the front gate holding AK-47s.

"Lock and load, everybody," Warfield snarled. "We're going in."

She slammed her foot down on the gas. The van lurched forward towards the gate. The sentries began to fire at them, but the bullets pinged off the windshield. Bulletproof. At the last second, the sentries jumped out of the way.

The van crashed through it. As the fence went cartwheeling out of their path, the van turned in a wide arc, dust flying from the wheels.

Warfield slammed on the brakes until the vehicle skidded to a halt, then yelled, "Last stop, everybody out!"

The Renegades kicked open the backdoors. They poured out in a stream of roaring, shooting muscle and camouflage gear. Gunfire began to sound. Quinn, Rembrandt, and Arturo exchanged a nervous glance.

"Don't worry," Hamilton said. "Your Uzis are loaded with rubber bullets. They'll pack a wallop, even break some bones, but they won't kill unless you aim them at the heart or head."

Rembrandt grinned. "Lock and load, gang."

He charged out, screaming as he sprayed the air with his gun. Arturo climbed after him yelling, "Semper fi!" Quinn followed.

The compound was a warzone. The factory was sealed with the windows covered in sheet metal, leaving only a heavy iron door as the entrance. Men and women in black were on the roof of the monstrous plant, guns blazing. And they weren't using rubber ammo.

But Warfield's Renegades were finely-honed warriors. They moved in complex zigzag patterns that looked random, but were well-planned to move them in synchronized patterns into positions of cover. They shot quickly and easily, hitting their targets every time.

Quinn dove behind an abandoned car and fired off shots with his Uzi. Then he ducked for cover as bullets riddled the hood. Rembrandt and Arturo settled in beside him, pouring fire from their guns.

Warfield herself was a dynamo. She moved from one point of cover to the next with lightning speed, exposing herself only to fire off a few rounds, then dive behind a crate or chunk of rock. In this fashion, she made her way to the metal door.

She used her teeth to yank the pin out of a grenade, then hurled it at the door as she yelled, "Fire in the hole!"

Everyone ducked as the door went up in a blossom of flame. It landed again crumpled into something resembling a pretzel. Quinn could see through the open doorway to the men and women inside, running for cover.

"Infiltrate," Warfield roared.

The Renegades moved out again, dispersed to avoid drawing fire, but as concentrated and focused as an arrow. They charged into the building, still firing at the sentries on the roof. Quinn heard gunshots echoing inside the factory, then a series of explosions. Then silence.

Warfield stood and brushed off her fatigues. "Well, I think that's my cue."

She strode into the building. Rembrandt, Arturo, and Quinn jogged in after her.

Inside was indeed a drug factory. Vats of chemicals hummed as complex machinery worked to fill syringes that were wrapped and dropped into boxes. A white powder drizzled from the mouth of another machine into bags.

Warfield aimed her AK-47 at the works and fired off rounds until it all ground to a squealing halt. As she did, a thin man in a white suit came charging out of an office.

"Danny," he yelled. "I should've known you were behind this. What's the big idea?"

Warfield slung her gun onto her shoulder. "Truce is over, Jung. We need to talk."

His torso gleamed, his muscles perfectly honed. The face appeared to be chiseled from stone. The features were straight and symmetrical and the eyes held the ocean's deep blue hue within them as they gazed at the audience which stared back in awe.

In essence, the man who strutted in front of Wade, demonstrated the perfection which could be attained in the male form. That's if someone had the time or the dedication to work at it.

It went without saying that Grace had front row seats at the "auction." Wade shuffled uncomfortably as Grace greeted her friends with half-offered kisses and exaggerated declarations of delight at seeing them. Of course it was obvious to Wade that Grace spent a vast amount of her time mixing with these women every day.

Somehow the false pretenses and pretend rituals of greeting seemed right in this decadent place. The chandeliers dripping from the ceiling, the thick red carpet which straddled the catwalk, allowing the "auction items" to pad up and down like animals in a cage while the eager, icon-hungry audience peered and poked. The women gesticulated and sighed as each potential new "purchase" paraded its attributes in the glare of the red spotlights.

Wade felt sick. She felt a party to this sham, this hollow promise to these people of a better life. Each new "item" eager to please, eager to be possessed by one of the "accessory-mad" buyers and escape Downtown.

She heard two women behind her discuss a young and stunning girl who walked slowly towards them along the catwalk. The conversation was brief but Wade felt a flush of nausea as she heard one of them protest at the girl's hair color.

"But darling, I'd have to have her hair dyed. It simply wouldn't match my new drapes in the living area - and they were so expensive, don't you know. I do believe there's a rather stunning dark haired girl next. I think I'll wait to see her. One doesn't want a clash now does one?"

The raucous laughter which followed was met with agreement from her friend. Wade sighed and caught Grace's eye.

"Simply marvelous, aren't they, darling? I thought one of the younger men for you, dear. Brenda says that having a man servant is the 'in' thing dear. We must try and keep you in with the group, dear!" Grace smiled sweetly and reached across to squeeze Wade's hand.

"Nice to see my work at first hand isn't it?" she said as she turned her head towards the stage. A group of three male "purchases" were taking their places before parading in front.

"What kind of work is this?" Wade asked. She could have said more, a lot more, but she kept her counsel.

"Oh darling, all these people are my charity work. I'm on the main Committee for the auction houses, darling. I make sure that these poor darlings get a chance here in Uptown and can get away from that simply awful place down there." Wade saw Grace shudder visibly.

"This isn't charity work, this is slavery," Wade declared angrily and then bit her lip. There! She'd said it now and boy would she be for it.

Grace went silent for a minute and then looked sideways at her. Her face broke into a smile.

"But darling, I do lot's of other things too," she added, ignoring the remark about "slavery," almost as though Wade hadn't said it.

"Like what?" Wade asked. She couldn't fathom the woman's attitude to her. Surely she was suspicious of her. Especially after her last comment. Perhaps she was afraid of being wrong, of finding out she was a Downtowner after all. Wade just didn't know.

"I plant trees in the Uptown Park, dear. A very worthwhile cause. We need trees. I'm very popular with the Green movement here," Grace continued, her face averted from Wade and watching the men coming down the catwalk with fascination.

Wade glanced at them. She wasn't interested. This world sickened her more and more. Its sycophantic people and their interest only in themselves. Their lack of caring for the majority of the population of the planet. A population which struggled to survive way down below them.

Grace indicated a very attractive and athletic-looking young man, around Wade's age. "Darling, I thought the one on the left would suit you. He goes with the color of your room, dear, and all the clothes I bought you this morning. Perfect specimen for a servant, dear." Grace beamed at her.

Wade wanted to get out. She had to leave before she did something stupid. The only way was to end this now. She nodded mutely and forced a smile. Grace clapped her hands together and raised a finger. The auctioneer nodded at her and the sale was made. Wade waited to see if he came gift wrapped.

* * *

Jung put a foot over the back of the wooden chair and surveyed the three Sliders who stood next to Danielle.

"Who are they?" he nodded at the men.

"Friends," Danny replied as she pushed a stick of gum into her mouth and proceeded to chew. She nodded to a sidekick who slammed a gun down on the table in front of Jung.

"Now we talk," she said and sneered at the man.

"What's goin' on Danny? Jung asked, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "Thought we got a deal?"

"We did. Trouble is you broke it my friend," she replied and started to play with the long knife she always carried.

"You heard wrong Danny," the man replied, the sweat breaking on his forehead.

"I never hear wrong Jung. Sometimes people tell me wrong, sure. But I never get my facts wrong. You implying I do?" She moved her face towards him menacingly.

Jung backed away instinctively.

"No. Danny. I just...well I assumed..."

"Never assume. Never. You hear?" Danny continued and pushed the knife into the table, twisting it as she did so.

"Sure, Danny. Sure. What do you want to talk about?" Jung asked nervously.

"Need your help. If you give it then we're quits. The little bit of trouble we got now? It goes. Like it's never ever been a problem. Get my drift? The slate's wiped clean. How d'ya like that, Jung?"

"Sure, Danny. I like it. What can we do?" Jung tried to keep eye contact with Danny. He failed. Quinn estimated she could outstare a Rottweiller if she wanted to.

Danny sat down on the chair next to the table and put her feet up. She relaxed back and smiled.

"I know you've been letting my people get hold of ..shall we say certain substances. Now I remember...and tell me if I remember wrong, Jung...I remember a little agreement we had. The one where there were gonna be no drugs in Downtown and I let you stay open to supply the lowlife Uptowners." Danny leant forwards slightly and stared hard at Jung.

"Some got through, that's all. A mistake," the man blurted through a haze of fear. "It won't happen again, I guarantee it, Danny."

"Oh yeah, you're gonna guarantee it all right. In fact you're gonna pay me back for your little mistake, Jung. You're gonna help my friends here and me do a couple of little things tonight. Sound fair, Jung? Tell me if it's not, of course and we can always discuss another means of payment. Your choice Jung. Your choice. I'm easy either way." Danny smiled benevolently at the gang leader.

Quinn marveled at the way this woman could hold an entire gang, used to terrorizing a complete District, to ransom. The fear which glinted in Jung's eyes was very real. Danny's reputation was not without foundation, of that Quinn was certain. He was sure glad they had her on their side.

As Jung and Danielle began to strike a deal, Quinn's thoughts turned to Wade. He hoped that wherever she was, she was ready.

* * *

Grace's hover landed softly outside the main Police headquarters and Wade felt her stomach roll with nerves. Her last encounter with this building had not been too pleasant an experience. She wasn't particularly eager to repeat it.

"Come on darling, don't dawdle. Got to get to Medical Central after this, you've got an appointment with Psyche," Grace muttered as she tottered on extraordinarily high heels towards the main doors.

Wade followed slowly, her heart heavy. She looked anxiously at the side windbreaks and had a sudden vision of being thrown unceremoniously from the top. She shivered at the thought.

"Lovely to see you again dear lady." The dark tones of the policeman floated towards Wade as the doors shut behind them.

"What have you found out about my little darling?" Grace asked, her eyes full of concern.

"Nothing so far. I've got a whole bunch of questions for her though. We should have found a trace record on those fingerprints. Nothing's come through yet, though."

Wade listened in silence. She only had about ten hours left before she had the means to escape. If she tried it before then she might mess the whole thing up. She didn't know what to do.

"No questions now, darling. I've got such a lot to do and Wade here is due at Psyche shortly." Grace said shaking her head and tutting loudly.

"But madam," the police officer protested, "I asked you to bring her here to ask her some questions. That was the whole point..."

"Oh, bother," Grace snapped, "I thought you just wanted her to check in. She's had a very trying day and we don't have the time to put her through an interrogation."

"Tonight then?" the policeman asked slowly, his eye drifting across to the silent form of Wade. She averted her eyes from his gaze.

"Oh darling, I almost forgot I have a Women's Charity Foundation meeting at my house until ten o'clock. Is it urgent dear?" Grace asked.

"I'd like to get it cleared up if possible, yes madam." His eyes were still fixed on Wade, as though she might give something away if he stared for long enough.

"Well how about a half after ten dear? Will that suit you? You could have a cocktail with me as well. That would be lovely, now wouldn't it?" Grace enthused. Then she grabbed Wade's hand and dragged her towards the door.

"Ten thirty. Fine. Thank you, dear lady," the policeman said as the door shut behind them. His eyes narrowed.

Wade's heart raced. She wasn't meant to leave Uptown through the shafts until later, but if she stayed she might be questioned and taken away there and then. If she fled before seeing the police, they'd know she'd escaped and they might follow her. Whatever she did she risked being found out. Yet in her heart Wade knew she stood more chance getting away before ten thirty than after it.

As she went with Grace towards the Medical building, knowing she had to continue to feign amnesia for the psyches, Wade started to make a plan for her escape.

***

Quinn leaned against a wall, his rifle resting against his legs. He was watching Arturo and Rembrandt sitting on the floor in a ring of Renegades and gang members, all playing a game of poker. So far, Rembrandt was winning easily, a large pile of coins by his feet. The coins were worthless in Downtown, but made good chips.

Quinn looked up from the game to watch Warfield and Jung. They were still at a rickety table in a corner of the factory, lit by a shaft of light from the lamp above them. The two had a blueprint spread between them. Their murmurs and occasional screaming filtered across the warehouse.

"Still at it," Quinn said.

Rembrandt peered over his cards as he said, "Yeah, they been plannin' this raid for the last four hours. How long's it gonna take?"

"As long as it takes," one of the Renegades said. "This isn't a picnic we're crashing. Uptown takes its security very seriously. We can't afford to make any mistakes. Every raid we pull is risking our lives."

One of the gang members glared at him. "And you want us to help? Man, you guys really are crazy."

Another Renegade pulled a 44. Magnum out of her belt. She aimed it at the gangster. "We must be crazy to let vermin like you live, instead of blowing your heads off like you deserve."

A gun appeared in the hands of another of the Nightmares. "Well, sweetie, you're welcome to give it a try. Or are you guys only tough when you got Danny holding your hands?"

The poker game broke up as the Renegades and Nightmares rose to their feet. Guns, knives, and chains were slipped into hands as the two armies faced off.

Rembrandt looked up at the glaring, hate-filled expressions looming over him. "Uh, hey, fellas, come on. Let's finish the game, huh? I got a real set o' beauties here."

"We'll finish the game," the Renegade snarled. "Right here, right now."

A gunshot that sounded like a cannon going off echoed through the factory. Danielle Warfield had a smoking gun aimed in the air as she charged over to the ring of anger. She snatched the gun out of one Renegade's hand, then kicked over the pile of change in the center of the ring.

"Is this how I trained you?" she screamed. "To go for the throats of anyone you feel like, the minute my back is turned? Is that why I took you off the streets to join my army?"

The Renegade who had first pulled a gun seemed to shrink at Warfield's anger. "But...but, sir...they..."

Warfield interrupted her. "I specifically told you kiddies to play nice. A friendly game of poker. What part of that order did you not understand? Atten-HUT!"

The Renegades immediately jerked to attention, backs straight, arms at their sides, glaring into space. Warfield swept the ranks with her eyes.

"Well, at least I know your ears still work," Warfield snarled. "So maybe you'll hear this. Not only do I want a 10K run out of you babies every morning for the next two weeks, but you'll all be dining on K-rations the whole time. Maybe that'll teach you that when I give you an order, you follow it. No exceptions."

Jung smirked at his men and women, who were laughing as they made faces at the Renegades. Jung's expression changed when Warfield grabbed the front of his coat. She swung him around to slam him into the wall. Her hunting knife was at his throat an instant later.

"Something funny, Steve?" Warfield whispered.

Jung shook his head vigorously.

"Good," she said, "because I wouldn't want you to forget that my people could tear you and this whole building apart in less time than it takes you to suck some of that poison you make up your nose. And I wouldn't want you to forget...how much I want them to do it."

She let him go and sheathed her knife. "All right, playtime's over. Let's get back to work."

Warfield cleared the floor of cards and coins with her foot, then spread the blueprint out in their place. It was a depiction of one of the skyscrapers looming over them. Her men and the gang members clustered around it.

"This is the Corinth Building," Warfield said, then glanced up at Quinn. "Where your friend's being held. That's where we'll make the raid."

"You spoke to her?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah, we got through. She's okay. If all goes as planned, she'll be along during the raid at midnight."

"Thank heavens," Arturo said.

Quinn exhaled as Rembrandt laughed, clenching his fist. She was all right. Up until that moment, Quinn hadn't known if she was even alive or dead. It gave him a feeling of hope that he realized had been absent inside him since she was taken.

Warfield traced a line on the blueprints with her finger. "We'll be using this shaft right here. It's one of the few shafts that the cops don't monitor. For one they're used to finding nothin' but dead bodies at the bottom, and for another it was accidentally mismarked on all the blueprints they have."

One of the Renegades grinned. "Yeah. Accidentally."

Warfield smirked as she gave him a light slap on the arm. "Hey, don't give away all our secrets. Okay, the tunnel is connected to this ventilation shaft. That'll allow your friend access to it. Our agent, Wildfire, told her to slip down it at midnight. At that time, Beta Team will be in position here, at the fifteenth floor, to start loading the supplies into the shaft to bring them down to us. The rest of us will be in Alpha Team. We'll rappel up the shaft to meet them, guarding all possible entry points."

Warfield tapped the base of the shaft. "Jung, I need your boys right here, at the bottom of the shaft. You'll be Omega Team. Omega's job will be to guard the vans against gang or police attack. You'll also serve as backup for Alpha Team, but no matter what, you do not leave this position unless I order it. Think you can handle that?"

Jung adjusted his silk tie. "No problem."

"Good," Warfield said, then looked at Quinn. "By the time your friend reaches the fifteenth floor to rendezvous with Beta Team, the supply transfer should be complete. Beta and Alpha will be coming Downtown anyway, so they'll be able to assist and protect her on her way."

Warfield clapped her hands. "All right, that's the plan. We don't leave for the raid until ten-thirty, but I want all you little girls and boys to start checking the weapons, vehicles, and equipment. If I see so much as a speck of dust on a bullet, I'll be in a very bad mood. And that goes for you big, bad Nightmares, too."

The gang members started to protest, but Jung held up his hand. "She's right. If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right. And the sooner we get this done, the sooner we get back to work."

"That's more like it," Warfield said. "Let's get moving."

The Nightmares grumbled, but dispersed. The Renegades broke rank to stride over to their van. Quinn watched them go, then headed over to Warfield.

Warfield was rolling up the blueprints as she watched him approach. "You three must really like this friend of yours."

"Like isn't a strong enough word," Quinn said.

Warfield smiled at him, Arturo, and Rembrandt. "That's good. Friends are important in a place like this."

She looked across the room at Hamilton, who was packing away ammo. "Very important."

Arturo watched her, then said, "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Warfield let a moment pass before nodding, slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so. But it's never gonna happen. This is war, and that's no place for a relationship."

"Perhaps," Arturo said. "But perhaps the time will come when the war ends, and then..."

Warfield stared at Hamilton. He looked back at her, flushed, then looked away.

"The war never ends," Warfield whispered. "Not down here. And not in here." She touched her chest with a finger.

Then she was on her feet. She glared at Quinn and the others standing in front of her. "I don't remember excluding you three from my orders. If you wanna make yourselves useful, start packing the ammo in the bandoleers."

She charged away from them, melting into the crowds.

Rembrandt sighed as he watched her. "Can't be easy lovin' in a place like this."

"It's not easy anywhere, Mr. Brown," Arturo said. "I can't help but wonder if perhaps the real reason Warfield does this is because she needs a war. She needs something to fight besides herself. She seems to be carrying a lot of pain inside her."

"Yeah," Rembrandt said, then shook his head. "Okay, let's drop the soap opera stuff for a second. Wade's on her way down to us at midnight. That enough time for us to slide?"

Quinn checked the timer from his pocket. "Just barely. We're gonna make it."

"Excellent," Arturo said. "It has been a long time since I've visited a world I wanted to leave as badly as this one."

***

"Oh my feet!" Grace lamented as she flung the bags to the floor. "Shopping can be so tiring, darling, don't you think?" She grimaced and tottered painfully towards her bedroom.

"Ah Charles, a pot of Earl Grey darling, in my room, if you please. Oh, I'm exhausted!"

Wade could hear Grace's mutterings as the woman moved down the passageway towards her bedroom.

Charles stood momentarily gazing at Wade, and took in the sight which ambled through the door behind her.

The handsome young man stopped a few feet behind her and now stood silently, his eyes darting nervously and in obvious awe at his surroundings.

Wade made a face at Charles and indicated the youth with a nod of her head. "My present," she said sarcastically.

"You'd better come with me," Charles said to him quietly and raised his eyebrows at Wade.

She watched in silence as the young man walked slowly behind Charles and they disappeared towards the kitchen.

She felt frustrated. She'd wanted to get Charles on his own and tell him about her change in plans. She knew she could do it alone, although the thought terrified her and secretly she hoped Charles would come with her, but more importantly she wanted to warn the others. Maybe they'd come earlier if they knew she was in deep trouble. Otherwise she was even more on her own than she'd intended.

She sighed and headed towards her bedroom, carrying the five or six heavy bags with her, her purchases safely inside. Very expensive and very nice. Pity she wouldn't be enjoying them really.

Then she thought of her friends, stranded down beneath her. The clothes and trappings of this superficial world were nothing compared to their love and friendship. Wade stuck her chin out proudly and was about to open the door into Tanya's bedroom. As she did so she caught sight of Charles returning from the kitchen towards the utility area, a tray in one hand.

She glanced behind her to ensure that no one was around and then dropped her bags by the door.

"Charles!" she hissed across the passage.

He hesitated and then moved towards her, his eyes glancing backwards.

"I told you no more contact until tonight," he said, his eyes burning with annoyance.

"Look, I'm sorry but this can't wait," she answered hurriedly. She paused and looked once more over her shoulder. The coast was clear. "I think I'm in trouble."

"How so?" Charles whispered. His eyes narrowed as they studied her.

"I think the cops are suspicious about me. They're coming tonight, half past ten. If I don't go before that then I'm dead meat," she replied, her eyes searching his face for some reassurance, some hope.

There was none.

"You can't do it. It's suicide without someone to guide you," he answered slowly.

"I've got to. There's no choice. If I stay they'll send me down over the side anyway. What other options are there?" Wade waited for an answer.

"You're on your own then. I'm stuck here until eleven. I'm serving the women who are coming tonight and I won't be able to get away until then." Charles' brow was furrowed deeply as he said it, obviously displeased with how events were unfolding.

"But they're going by ten. Grace told the cop to come at ten thirty. You could get out then." Wade pleaded with her eyes. She was scared. She didn't usually feel like this, but this callous world frightened her. If she was caught, she knew they'd think nothing of making an example out of her and flinging her from the top of their highest block.

"Can't do it. I'd blow my cover. It's better for you if you go it alone. I'll delay things as much as I can so the cop's kept busy with drinks but that's all I can do," he answered her.

"Great!" Wade muttered and lowered her eyes. "Can you warn my friends? Then they could be there earlier," she added hopefully.

"Sorry. They've broken contact until the raid is over. They can't risk it all going wrong. You're not the only thing at stake tonight. The food's more important to the renegades than one life, especially someone they don't even know. No, you're on your own. I've done all I can."

He hesitated and then smiled gently at her. "Look, good luck. I think you've got it in you to make it!" Charles touched her hand briefly and then moved away. He didn't look back.

Wade's heart felt heavy and her stomach churned. She'd never felt so alone in her life. She could manage the ropes, she knew that. It was the thought of the darkness and the never-ending journey into the black which freaked her. Even if she managed it, the renegades might mistake her for an Uptowner and kill her. Her timing was lousy.

As she opened the door to Tanya's room again and heaved the bags through, stiff resolution took hold of her spirit. She couldn't give up. She'd had it better than the rest of the group this time. She'd show them she could get out alone. She had to.

***

The face which watched and listened from the small study grinned. This was her opportunity. She knew she could do it and she would. She closed the door and made her plans.

***

The knock on the door was hesitant. Wade knew it wasn't Brenda. For a start Brenda would just burst in.

Tanya's head poked cautiously into the room, the dark bob of hair followed by smiling eyes.

"Hi!" she said as her body followed through the gap.

"Hi," Wade replied and returned the smile. She turned on her side and punched the pillow into shape. She'd been attempting to get some rest after a night spent in a virtual library. Her thoughts were foggy and she felt tired. The night ahead of her was going to be grueling enough without feeling exhausted on top of it.

"Thought you might like some company after being given the full treatment this morning," Tanya offered as she threw herself onto a giant beanbag in the middle of Wade's floor.

Wade propped herself on one elbow and looked at the girl in front of her. She was a pretty little thing, and Wade remembered the photograph of her father. She looked like him. The eyes held a certain something. Wade couldn't put her finger on it. There was something about them both which was unlike the other Uptowners she'd met. She wondered where her father was now. She guessed it was as good a time as any to find out.

"Thanks. It has been a pretty bad morning," Wade admitted ruefully. "Especially at Psyche. Sheesh, they were something else." She shook her head in disgust.

"Yeah, they're quite a team aren't they. Mom sent me there when..." Tanya paused, a look of alarm crossing her face and she changed the subject hurriedly. "I saw Mom's present for you. He looks kind of cute," Tanya offered and then laughed as she saw Wade's eyes roll to the ceiling in mock horror.

"Yeah, cute if he was just a guy I'd met, but this whole 'servant' gig is something else," Wade said and watched for the reaction. She hadn't missed the girl's reference to something which had happened in the past, but since it made her uncomfortable she guessed it was best left unsaid for the moment. Tanya's reaction to her look of horror was exactly what she'd expected.

"Exactly. Isn't it gross? I mean. Having a slave almost. Daddy used to say slavery was abolished years ago and why were we bringing it back again? He hated it." Tanya bit her lip and lowered her eyes, aware that she had said something wrong.

"It's okay, you can talk about him. What happened to him?" Wade probed gently. She felt sorry for the girl. She obviously couldn't express her disgust, at the society she lived in, to the others here. Wade wondered if she pushed whether she'd open a floodgate of pent up hate and emotion. She wondered if it was the wisest thing to do, given that she was about to leave her to get on with whatever she released. Sometimes sliding threw up problems which were impossible to solve.

Tanya gazed at Wade and then climbed to her feet. She sat herself next to her on the bed and lowered her eyes again, discomfort mirrored there.

"Mom says Daddy's dead. Brenda won't talk about him. She says he's a traitor to the government and all it's trying to do. He's not a traitor and he's not dead. I know he's down there somewhere, but I don't know where."

Tanya looked up and stared at Wade. Her face glistened with a single stream of tears, coursing its way slowly towards her chin.

Wade's heart went out to her. She felt inadequate. She'd allowed the child to open up to her and now she was leaving her. She reached across and took her hand, squeezing it.

"I'm sorry. How do you know he's alive and Downtown?" she asked gently.

"There's never been a funeral. Mom just says he was abducted by the Downtowners and they murdered him. She tells everyone that. I know he's not, 'cos I overheard her discussing divorcing him with some legal person a year back. But she won't talk to anyone about him. It's like he never existed. Never existed at all. All the photos of him are gone. She threw them away. But I've got one. She'll never take that."

Tanya paused then continued, holding Wade's eyes with her own to gauge her reaction. "You're going down there, aren't you?"

Wade's heart lurched and a finger crawled up her spine, jangling her nerves. She'd been found out. She swallowed hard.

"I heard you talking. You and Charles. You're a Downtowner aren't you? I knew you weren't an Uptowner. The things you say and feel. I know you're planning to go tonight, while Mom's busy with her stupid meeting. I know you can do it Wade and I want to come with you." The girl's mouth closed and she stared unwavering.

"It's too dangerous. Anyway, where would you go? Wade asked, the questions tripping off her tongue easily. "Do you have any idea what it's like down there? Have you seen it?" She was aghast. She couldn't risk not going and she was getting a very unpleasant feeling about what the girl intended.

"I know enough. I've got my books. Mom doesn't touch them. They're dirty to her, but I got some real interesting old books in a store in the market area. They're called subversive by the government but I got them." Tanya looked proud and older than her twelve years suddenly.

Wade was filled with admiration that a child brought up in such complete opulence had decided to find out more about such a world. A world which bore no resemblance whatsoever to its counterpart above it. If Tanya was like her father, then Wade suspected she'd like him too.

"Tanya, what I'm going to do tonight is dangerous. Can you climb? Can you hold onto ropes for maybe an hour while you climb downwards into a black abyss? Can you? Because I'm not even sure that I can? And if I'm not sure about that, then how can I take a twelve year old with me?" Wade paused and waited for the answer.

"I can do it," came the simple reply.

"I dunno," Wade muttered and shook her head unhappily. The responsibility of taking this bright light of life down into what lay beneath them frightened her. It was one thing looking out for her own safety and another watching out for a child. And then she'd be sliding away, leaving her to her own devices in a complete hell hole. As she was about to refuse, Tanya added a final comment. A comment which made Wade's mind up for her.

"If you don't take me, I'll turn you and Charles into the authorities tonight, before Mom's little party. And if you think I'm joking, try me," she said, her eyes blazing with determination.

Wade nodded numbly. She had no choice short of tying the girl up now and making a quick escape. If there was only herself to think about she might risk it, but there was Charles and the Renegades, or whatever he called them, to think of. She was a tiny player in this dangerous game. She couldn't risk an entire group's existence.

As Tanya moved to the door she turned and smiled.

"Thank you," she murmured. And Wade knew that she meant it with all her heart.

"Tanya, you never told me what your father's name is," Wade asked. "We need to tell the group down below when we arrive so they can find him for you." She moved towards her wardrobe to select out an outfit for the escape. She had under four hours.

Tanya grinned and opened the door slowly.

"I used to call him 'My hamster' 'cos Mom used to call him Hammy. His real name is Hamilton."

Wade stood in a corner of the living room, trying to make herself look as inconspicuous as possible to the wealthy crowds that circulated in front of her. Women draped in furs murmured and cooed compliments and gossip to each other in a myriad of accents. None of which Wade believed was real.

Grace herself was laughing heartily with a group of women by the balcony. She had been a whirlwind of social graces all evening. Brenda was acting in kind, a younger version of her mother. It was obvious, as she chatted and fawned over guests, that she was learning to follow in Grace's footsteps.

Wade was momentarily startled when a bottle appeared next to her. But it was only her manservant, refilling her champagne glass.

"Uh, thanks," Wade said. "But you don't need to keep doing that."

The servant bowed. "My pleasure, madam."

"Look, why don't you go off and do something else? Go mingle or something."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that," the servant said. "I'm yours. I must be close by waiting for your commands."

"No, you're not. You're a human being. I don't even want a servant. Go away, okay?"

The servant's face broke its impassive appearance to glance at Grace, then take on a pleading expression. "Please don't send me away. I've been waiting months to get this job. I trained night and day. This is just a probationary stage. If I don't prove myself useful, I'll have to go back Downtown, and my family will starve."

Wade blinked, then stammered, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean...look, I guess I could use a...another crab puff."

The servant's expression settled back into its former calm demeanor. "As you wish, madam." He headed off into the crowds towards the buffet.

Wade shook her head. She couldn't believe how bone-headed she had been to forget the economics of this place. Sure, the servants were being used and exploited. But the way the system worked, being used and exploited was the only way the lower classes could survive. In fact, as the servant showed, they seemed to feel lucky to even have the chance. Wade didn't think that was a coincidence. She couldn't wait to get out of this place.

Tanya emerged from the crowds draped in a stunning white dress. Even though it fit her perfectly, she still managed to look uncomfortable. Tanya sidled up to Wade, glanced around for on-lookers, then leaned close.

"It's almost ten-thirty," Tanya whispered. "The cops will be here any minute."

"And we gotta get out of here before then," Wade whispered back. "Let's go."

She turned to run and bumped into her manservant. He was balancing a tray of crab puffs on his arm. Wade forced a smile.

"Uh, I've changed my mind," she said. "I think I'll just turn in early."

"Oh." The manservant lowered the tray. "Very well. I'll prepare your bed..."

"No need. I'm too tired. I'll just hit the hay as is."

Then Wade noticed the servant begin to deflate again, so she rushed out, "Hey, how about planning out my schedule for tomorrow? I'll have a busy day ahead of me."

The manservant regained his composure. "As you wish, madam."

Wade slipped past him into an adjoining corridor, followed by Tanya. The two of them headed down the hallway that still rang from the elegant music of the living room.

Wade glanced back to see if anyone was watching. Everyone was focused on Grace, who was telling what appeared to be a hilarious anecdote from the way people laughed. Brenda looked at Wade for a brief moment, then turned away. Wade decided that she had seen nothing.

* * *

The van pulled up at the base of the Corinth Building. As Quinn piled out with the others, he realized the skyscraper emerged from an abandoned department store. Warfield climbed out of the driver's side and strode up to the front of the store, followed by her troops.

As she approached, she turned and began to walk backwards. At the same time, Warfield pointed to the door behind her. "Nightmares, you're Omega Team. Set up a perimeter circle ten feet from that door. No one goes in or out of that circle without direct orders from me. Move out."

The Nightmares assembled into a loose semi-circle radiating from the department store. Their rifles and cruel glares made them a perfect line of defense.

The once-beautiful glass revolving doors hung, twisted and shattered, in the doorway. The hinges were rusted stiff from years of neglect. Instead of using them, the Renegades riddled what remained of the vast picture windows with bullets. The jagged remnants of glass disintegrated with an ear-splitting screech as they collapsed into powder. When the way was clear, Warfield climbed through the openings into the store.

Quinn followed, trying not to step on any of the glass. Past the windows lay a cavernous chamber. Quinn peered through the dark gloom and saw that the walls and floor were painted white, adding a starkness to the already empty store. The sounds of the Renegades and Sliders walking through the store echoed unendingly.

Warfield led the group up a motionless escalator to an ornately-decorated doorway. It was the door to an elevator.

Warfield popped a stick of gum into her mouth, then motioned to her team. "Open it."

Two of the Renegades came forward with crowbars. Jamming them into the crack in the door, the two men grunted and worked. A few minutes of work caused the machinery to cry out as the door squealed open. It exposed the dark innards of an empty shaft, the elevator car nowhere to be seen.

"Okay," Warfield said, "this is where we do it. Alpha Team, get in gear. Beta Team should be sending down the first of the ropes any minute. I wanna be halfway up the shaft by then."

The Renegades began unpacking ropes and climbing equipment from their backpacks. Warfield picked up some ropes and pulleys and held them out to where Quinn and the others stood.

"Okay," Warfield said, "you want to rescue your friend Wade, you'll have to do it yourself. I can't spare the manpower to worry about that kind of thing. So we'll need two of you to go up with us. Who's it gonna be?"

Arturo glanced at the others, then said, "I think it would be wise for me to remain here. I'm afraid I'm a little out of shape for that sort of thing."

"And I'd better stay down here, too," Hamilton said. "In an emergency, I might be needed, and I'll be better off not tangled in ropes."

"Okay. Professor, you'll be Ham's nurse. Help with the paramedic side of this operation." Warfield tossed the ropes into Quinn's arms. "You and Rembrandt are elected."

Quinn glanced at Rembrandt, then said, "Uh, I've never done any climbing before."

"First time for everything." Warfield walked away to where her soldiers were banging hooks into the walls of the shaft.

Rembrandt untangled the ropes. "Don't worry, Q-Ball, I did a little climbin' in the navy. I'll talk you through it."

Quinn slung his rifle-strap around his chest. "I just don't get why she has to get us involved in stuff like this. She's got plenty of manpower. She doesn't need us."

"That's Danielle's style," Hamilton said. "She never lets anyone take the easy way out."

* * *

The doorbell chimed throughout the apartment. Grace glanced at the front door, but only to make sure that Charles was getting it. She returned to her conversation with Lady Dorchester.

Grace was just getting back into their discussion about the best source for diamond jewelry when she noticed Brenda heading out of the living room.

"Dear?" Grace asked. "Where are you off to now, sweetie? We're just about to serve cocktails."

Brenda looked at her with an odd expression. "I just have to check on something, mother. I'll be right back." She headed out of the living room into the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

Grace was about to follow when she saw Charles leading Sergeant Walters of the Police Psyche Division into the living room. Grace didn't even wait until Charles finished announcing him. She rushed up and took the policeman by the arm.

"Darling, how wonderful to see you," Grace said. "I'm absolutely tickled many shades of pink that you could make it."

The policeman forced a smile, but obviously was uncomfortable. "Uh, actually, madam, I was just hoping to see Miss Welles. I'm afraid we've uncovered some very..."

"Tut, tut," Grace said. "I absolutely refuse to let you talk business before you sample one of our cocktails. It's pure heaven, sweetie."

Charles handed the policeman a cocktail with a smirk. The policeman glared at him, then took the glass.

"Well," the policeman murmured, "maybe just one."

* * *

Wade slipped into her bedroom. Tanya came up behind her, closing the door with a soft click. They never turned on the lights, only crept softly through the shadowed room.

In the darkness, they quickly changed out of their dresses into jeans and sweaters. It was a more practical outfit for what they were planning to do.

Wade checked under her bed and found two sturdy backpacks hidden beneath it. Wade felt a wave of relief as she sorted through their contents. She'd managed to catch Charles two hours before the cocktail party. His anger at her whispered confession that Tanya was going too had obviously been swallowed up in his compassion.

He'd managed to get enough for two of them after all. There were several hundred feet of rope, as well as the hooks and other equipment they would need for the journey. Wade and Tanya worked in silence to pull them on. Wade tried not to let her hands shake too much as she snapped the buckles.

When they were ready, Wade moved to the window. She struggled to figure out how to open it until Tanya whispered, "Window, open." The glass of the window slid open with a hiss. Wade grinned at her, then climbed up into the windowframe.

There was a balcony outside her window that ran alongside the wall to a second balcony where the pool sparkled in the moonlight. Wade tried not to look down as she prepared to climb out into the night.

A voice startled her. Wade felt a cold hand clutch at her heart as she heard the familiar tones from behind them say, "Well, well. What have we here?"

Wade looked back. The bedroom door was open. Brenda was silhouetted against the door in Tanya's bedroom, one hand on her hip.

"Out for a midnight stroll?" Brenda asked.

Apart from the fact that Wade's stomach was now churning steadily, she had the most overwhelming desire to march across and wipe the smirk from Brenda's face once and for all.

The fact was that she and Tanya were now kitted up with packs for climbing. On top of that they were dressed in jeans and sweaters. It made trying to be inventive, and wriggle successfully out of the whole mess and allay Brenda's suspicions in the process, impossible.

"Keep out of this, Brenda," Wade warned as she put a foot over the window frame.

"You're serious, aren't you? You expect me to turn around and ignore what you're doing." Brenda's eyes narrowed as she closed the door behind her. "Light on," she ordered. She glared at Wade as the room lit up. "You're just what they thought, aren't you? A stupid low life Downtowner." She turned her anger on her sister, her eyes blazing.

"I always said you were stupid. The one member of the family who always lets us down." Brenda sighed, rolling her eyes to the ceiling in disgust. "Mother's tried so hard with you and look how you pay her back."

"I'm not the only member of the family who you all hate. What about Daddy?" Tanya breathed quietly.

Brenda rushed forward and struck Tanya full across the face, before either Wade or Tanya could react. The slap echoed around the room as Tanya reeled backwards against the bed to steady herself.

"Don't you ever talk about him. Ever!" Brenda screamed, her face turning ever more increasing shades of crimson.

Something inside Wade snapped as she watched Tanya stare in disbelief at her sister, her hand clutching the side of her face.

She moved purposefully towards Brenda, and smiled as she watched the girl back away from her in alarm.

"You don't deserve a sister like Tanya. You're selfish and hateful to the core. I've been dying to do this since I met you," she declared as she stood a foot or so in front of her.

Brenda was backed up against the wall of the bedroom. Her eyes were wide with horror, mixed with shock and confusion. In that one moment, Wade realised that no one had ever stood up to this woman before. She was used to getting her own way at all times and bullying everyone around her into obeying her every command. But she wasn't getting her way this time.

Then the fear melted away as Brenda drowned it out with her usual arrogant smirk. She was back in control. "Oh, really, sweetie? And do what? Hm? A piece of Downtown trash like you? What are you going to do? Hit me?"

"Yup." Wade pulled back her fist and punched Brenda in the jaw.

She watched as Brenda's eyes rolled upwards and she slid slowly down the wall to slump in an undignified heap, to the floor.

Wade turned to Tanya and met her gaze. The young girl nodded silently.

"Let's do it," Wade said as they both moved over the ledge of the window and onto the balcony.

As they moved towards their escape route , the darkness of the night swallowed them both into its secretive embrace.

***

Quinn felt as though the muscles in his upper arms would burst. He'd been climbing for just under ten minutes and it felt like he'd been climbing for hours, his progress was so slow. He was grateful that Rembrandt was a good climbing companion.

"Keep your feet around the rope and use them to push up Q- Ball," Rembrandt advised, as he gazed upwards at Quinn.

"Yeah, I'm trying. Takes some getting used to though," Quinn replied, clenching his teeth as he pushed himself up some more.

"We only gotta get to the first level and then we get help from the pulley system, okay?" Rembrandt called up, hoping his friend wasn't getting too tired. He remembered his first experience of climbing unaided in the Navy. He'd felt as though he'd do anything just to take the weight off his arms, and if that had meant dropping to the floor below, hell he'd have done it. If it wasn't for a determined instructor, Rembrandt wouldn't have made it.

"I sure hope those guys have fixed them by the time we get there," Quinn answered, praying fervently that Beta Team were Warfield's crack squad and would have everything in place when they reached that level. Pulleys would make the rest of the climb a piece of cake compared to this.

He didn't even mind the pitch black interior of the shaft, lit only by the odd pinprick of light from flashlights higher above them. The rest of the team were inevitably moving faster towards the first and second levels. He desperately wanted to be there for Wade when she came down. He knew the darkness and silence of the climb would freak her out. At least he had Remmy.

He looked upwards. Remmy's torch shone up into the darkness and for a brief moment he saw the first level come into view a hundred feet or more away from where they were.

"We're coming, Wade. We're coming," he whispered.

***

Grace had her hand wrapped around a large multicolored cocktail. She sat demurely next to her guest and drank in his every word.

"Darling, you're so fascinating," she cooed as she re- crossed her legs for the umpteenth time.

The policeman was starting to fidget. Hell, he found the woman attractive, of course he did. She was good looking and had money. But he had other things on his mind at the moment and he was itching to get on with the matter at hand. One Wade Welles.

"I'd like to see the girl now, please madam," he asked softly and smiled, putting down his glass.

"Oh my dear little Wade. A funny little thing really, but I do think she's fitting in very well, darling. I have high hopes for her and she's such a good influence for my little Tanya," Grace enthused as she put down her glass.

Charles ambled into the room, and hearing the policeman's request to see Wade, he eyed him warily. He glanced at the clock on the wall of the living room. Ten forty five. Wade and Tanya should have left by now. He hadn't approved of the youngster going but he couldn't stop her. He was relieved that Wade had told him the plan for them both to go. At least he'd managed to get hold of another pack for the climb.

"Shall I fetch Miss Welles, Madam?" he offered politely. He might be able to stall for a few more minutes, give the two youngsters a chance to get down on the lift roof.

The policeman turned sharply to look at Charles. He didn't like the butler one bit. He'd never been able to pin anything on him or find out anything untoward but he had a gut feeling about him. Somehow he knew he was involved with the resistance force Downtown. Somehow. He just had to prove it.

"That won't be necessary. I'd like to see her room, please Madam," the policeman asked, rising to his feet purposefully and glaring at Charles.

"Of course, darling, of course. I don't know where my three girls have got to. Probably playing together. How delightful!" Grace crooned enthusiastically.

She tottered towards the passageway and proceeded towards the bedroom.

Charles knew he could do no more. His cover in Uptown must stay intact at all costs. He moved into the kitchen and waited.

***

The pool lights were dimmed, but nevertheless allowed a faint amount of light to surface through the water and hence gave Wade and Tanya some help in struggling to get the grating off the ventilation shaft next to it. It was loose enough but it was very heavy and the last thing they had wanted to do was let it fall to the patio. The noise it would make would totally blow the secrecy of their escape.

Wade wished that she'd had time to drag Brenda into the bathroom, instead of leaving her slumped against the bedroom wall for anyone to see if they came in. But it couldn't be helped. She just prayed the girl would stay unconscious long enough for them to get a good way down on the top of the lift.

Charles had warned her that if no one used the lift, and it seemed like they would be stuck, they'd have to start the emergency descent mechanism. It was used by maintenance staff to get the lift down to the fifteenth floor in one go. It was quick but very dangerous since it dropped at twice the normal speed. Wade prayed that someone would call the lift before she had to do that.

"It's off!" Tanya whispered happily, as she helped Wade lower the grating gently to the floor.

"Come on, we haven't got long. I've got a feeling that Brenda's going to cause us trouble anyway," Wade murmured as she put her foot through the opening and dropped ten feet to the mechanism housing which sat above the actual roof of the lift. She put her hands out and helped Tanya to drop to her side.

"Pity we couldn't put the grating back. It's not going to take long for them to realize where we've gone," Tanya whispered as she followed Wade through a narrow gap at the side of the housing and dropped to the roof of the actual lift.

"What are we waiting for?" Tanya asked quietly as she sat next to Wade.

"I didn't want to do this, but with Brenda in the picture now, I've got no choice," Wade replied and took a rope from her pack. She passed one end of it around a hand rail on the roof and tied the other end around Tanya's waist and back to the hand rail. She pulled it tightly and smiled. "Now lie down flat and hang onto the rail," she warned.

"You could say this is going to be the ride of your life!" she added wryly and passed another rope to the opposite hand rail and tied it tightly around herself. She reached upwards and held her hand over a large black button. It was marked, as Charles had warned her, with "Emergency Descent. Use with Caution".

"Hang on," she warned Tanya as she hit it hard. She had no time to lie flat herself. The floor of the lift dropped from beneath her as it hurtled swiftly towards the fifteenth floor.

***

"That's strange, they're not answering the door, officer," Grace said as she turned and gave a slightly unsteady, lopsided grin.

She banged on it again and spoke loudly.

"Darlings. If you're playing a game that's lovely. But the officer here needs to speak to Wade." Grace started to frown and she pushed open the door.

It opened easily as the two of them walked into the bedroom and saw the door to Wade's room wide open. It was flooded with light, and a cold wind whipped in through an open window at the far end.

On the bed lay the two party dresses, screwed up and discarded. A few small gold pieces of jewelry lay forlornly on the dressing table. All that remained of Wade's new found wealth on the last world, although most had been confiscated at the police headquarters.

Grace moved towards the bed and turned to speak to the policeman.

She stopped, her face paling instantly and her mouth open. Her hand rose in a pointing gesture towards the wall behind them.

The scream which emerged was deafening. The policeman swung around to follow the direction of her finger and his gaze fell on the prone form of Brenda slumped against the wall. He moved across and felt her neck gently.

"She's out cold but she's alive," he said as he moved away from her and left her to Grace's tender ministrations.

He could scarcely hear himself think above the sound of Grace's wailing. He flicked an instant relay communicator from his pocket and spoke into it. "We've got a Downtowner escape, and a possible abduction. I want a full descent squad at the Corinth building stat and a paramedic team." He moved across to the window and leaned out.

He could see the pool glimmering nearby. It was too dark to tell which shaft they'd gone down but he'd find them. Oh yes, he'd find them all right. If Wade Welles wanted to go Downtown that badly he'd make sure she did. And he'd make sure she could never come back up again.

He moved to the dressing table and fingered the gold chains. Then his attention was taken by a small silver disc. He turned it over in his hand and pondered. He'd seen these before. On some of the victims who hadn't made it to the bottom. Perhaps it was some sort of badge or a form of identification. He smirked. She'd left hers behind had she? A pity for her. Perhaps he wouldn't have to get rid of her. Perhaps her friends down below would do it for him.

Grace had her hands pressed over her mouth as she watched the police swarming around her pool. Spotlights were being erected, turning night into day. A group of men in yellow overalls were clustered around the ventilation shaft. One of them spoke to a lieutenant, who jogged over to where Grace was standing.

"It's confirmed," the lieutenant said. "They've activated the emergency descent mechanism. They're on their way to Downtown. No sign of your daughter, so I assume she went, too."

"It's ruined," Grace whispered through her fingers. "My reputation is absolutely ruined. The Women's Charity Foundation will never let me live this down. I'll have to set up a new engagement as quickly as possible. I wonder if that charming Italian restaurant on the King's Arms is accepting reservations..."

Brenda staggered out of the penthouse onto the balcony. She held an ice-pack to her jaw, whimpering softly, as she made her way to her mother's side.

Grace wrapped her arms around her daughter, smothering her with kisses. "Oh, you poor, poor baby, are you all right?"

"Yes, mother," Brenda groaned. "I...I think I'll survive. But it hurts so much, I had to take some medication to stop the pain. And there's a cut on my jaw. It might turn into a scar."

"Highly unlikely," the lieutenant said. "It's just a scratch. There's really no permanent damage..."

Grace shot him a fierce glare. "Don't you ever contradict my daughter."

She turned her attention back to Brenda, murmuring, "Don't worry, sweetie. I'll call the cosmetic surgeon and have that scar taken care of first thing in the morning."

Brenda's grimace melted into a satisfied smile.

"Now," Grace said, "what have you tell me, officer? What is being done about this dreadful situation?"

The lieutenant gestured towards the open shaft. "Well, from your daughter's description, this is not a kidnapping. It looks like Miss Tanya went freely of her own accord."

"It figures," Brenda muttered. "She's so...common."

The lieutenant continued, "There's also the matter of Miss Welles. No records have turned up and from the look of things, she's headed Downtown, which means she was probably never an Uptowner to begin with."

"Of course." Grace shook her head. "How could I have been so blind. An unsterilised Downtowner in my own home...oh, dear, I should have had her checked for disease. How stupid of me. There's no telling what she might have been infected with."

Grace went pale and put her hand out to Brenda for support. "We'll have to have a complete medical tomorrow, darling. And the penthouse, it will have to be fumigated."

The lieutenant cleared his throat, then said, "Uh, unfortunately, ma'am, we have a more serious concern. We've checked out some of the lower floors and found evidence of tampering, as well as strange noises below the fifteenth floor. We think Miss Welles is involved with the Renegades, and that this is actually some sort of raid scheduled to begin soon."

"Oh, how dreadful," Grace said. "I cannot believe I harbored such a criminal."

"Uh, yes," the lieutenant said. "Now, according to U.S. law, such an infiltration is an act of treason and punishable by death. Which means we'll be following standard procedure. Send in a descent team, go in shooting, take out anyone and everyone at the scene of the raid. Miss Welles will be executed."

"Good," Brenda snarled.

"But the hard part is that...your daughter, Tanya...she'll be on the scene as well. It's always hard to pull these things off successfully with civilians in the area, and we can't guarantee that our men will be able to reach her and bring her back to safety. There's...always the possibility...that your daughter may be hurt. Or killed."

"So in cases like this, I can grant you the authority to cancel the assault, limiting us to a drop-and-rescue operation only. This will mean that the Renegades will probably get away with some supplies, but it will give us a much better chance of saving Tanya."

Grace looked at him, then down at Brenda in her arms. She gazed into her other daughter's eyes for a moment, then looked back up at the lieutenant.

"I see," Grace said. "Well, I don't see that as a problem. So do what you have to do."

The lieutenant nodded. "Very well, ma'am, I'll arrange for the rescue..."

"No," Grace said. "Do the assault. Wipe those Downtown filth off our property. Make sure they never come back."

The lieutenant blinked. "But, ma'am, your daughter..."

"I only have one daughter," Grace said. "And she's right here with me. That...thing...that went down that hole was a selfish little monster. If she's going to wriggle down into the dirt like a traitorous worm, let her die like one. Die like her good-for-nothing father. I never want to see her again."

Her voice caught as she spoke the last line. Her eyes shimmered in the harsh glare of the police lights, but were as hard and cold as diamonds. Grace turned away from the lieutenant and walked back into her penthouse, still clutching Brenda in her arms. She closed the balcony door behind them.

The lieutenant watched them go, then unhooked the walkie- talkie at his belt. He brought it to his lips and said, "All right. The execution is a go. Prepare the descent team at the thirteenth floor. This is a complete clean-up operation. No survivors. Repeat. No survivors."

* * *

The elevator roared as it hurtled down the shaft. Wade couldn't even guess how fast it was going. But it was fast enough to suspend her in midair, seemingly weightless, as the floor pulled away from her at incredible speeds.

Tanya was lying spread-eagled on the roof of the elevator, clutching the handholds with the ropes pinning her down. Wade envied her. As terrifying as the drop was, Wade knew it was going to be harder on herself when it stopped.

It went on for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. The walls swept past her, a blur of bare concrete, thick cables, and machinery. Then Wade heard a screech as brakes were engaged. The roof of the lift rushed up towards her. Wade only had a second to put out her hands to break her fall before she made contact.

The impact rammed the breath from her lungs. She lay there on the roof, wheezing as she struggled to take a breath. Tanya's hands came to her, helping her up.

"Are you all right?" Tanya asked.

"Yeah," Wade breathed. "Just...got the wind knocked out of me, that's all. I'll...be okay."

She was able to take a breath again. From there, she began to recover, but couldn't wait until she was ready. She forced herself to get to her feet, welcoming Tanya's support.

When she was standing, Wade lurched over to a trapdoor mounted on the wall. She was in the right place - there, just where Charles had said it would be, was the skull and crossbones painted as an omen of death.

Wade tried her best to ignore it. She worked her fingers into the slot where she felt a lever, caked with oil. Wade pulled it. The trapdoor gave off a thud, then slid open on squealing hinges. On the other side was a narrow crawlspace lined with dust.

The elevator below them shuddered. Wade began to hear the grinding of gears above them.

Tanya looked around her. "Someone's calling the elevator. The emergency system will disengage."

"Talk about a mixed blessing," Wade said. "Quick, inside."

Tanya wriggled herself into the tunnel. Wade dropped a few inches as the elevator's brakes disengaged. It was about to move. She pulled her shoulders into the crawlspace, forcing herself to squeeze in next to Tanya.

The elevator began to move upwards, even while she still stood on it. The opening of the crawlspace shrank as the roof of the elevator closed it off. Wade pulled herself further in. Her legs were the last to fit inside. The side of the elevator came up, almost cutting off her foot, as it moved on.

Tanya and Wade's breathing was loud in the tight quarters as the elevator rumbled up past them. Then it was gone and the empty shaft was exposed. Wade held Tanya back. As she had suspected, a few seconds later, the wall of the main elevator roared upwards. For a brief moment, Wade thought she heard lilting music coming from the inside of the car, as well as chatting and laughter.

Then the elevator was gone. Only the dark interior of the shaft remained before them.

Wade leaned out. The bottom of the elevator retreated up into the shadows, its motor's hum fading. She exhaled the deep breath she had been holding.

"Well, that was fun," Tanya said.

"It gets better." Wade managed to get her flashlight out of her pocket. Its beam lit up the shaft.

Wade handed the light to Tanya, who held it so Wade could unstrap her pack. She had to let it dangle out of the crawlspace to have enough room to uncoil the ropes inside. Then she pulled out a small gun Charles had packed.

After their earlier conversation of Tanya, Charles had given Wade detailed instructions on how to use the tools he planned to give her. That included instructions from Charles on the gun's use. Wade felt along the wall outside the crawlspace until she found a bare spot. She pressed the gun's barrel against the wall. She pulled the trigger. There was a loud bang that echoed through the shaft.

When Wade pulled the gun away, a hook had been driven into the wall. Wade checked to make sure it was firmly seated, then threaded the rope into it.

"Ever do any climbing before?" Wade asked as she worked.

"Nope," Tanya said.

"Well, I've done a little. Follow my lead." She tied the end of the rope into a knot, then began tying the other end around her waist.

"Okay," she said, "we're gonna have to work fast, but we've gotta be careful. This is the kinda thing you only get to screw up once. I'll go down first, secure the next line. Then you go down on that line and secure the next. We keep doing that until we get to the bottom. Okay?"

Tanya aimed the flashlight at herself so Wade could see her nod. Her eyes were as wide as they could get. The light shook a little from the trembling of Tanya's hand.

Wade touched her shoulder. "You still sure you wanna go through with this? You could still make it back to Uptown."

"No," Tanya said. "I'm never going back. I'd rather die than have to live there again."

Wade smiled. "Okay. Let's go."

She slid herself out into the shaft. She dangled in the cold air beyond, then her feet made contact with the uneven concrete wall. Wade held her breath as she lowered herself down, then allowed her weight to be supported by the hook.

It held.

Wade allowed herself to breathe again. She looked up at Tanya, who gave her a thumbs-up. Wade grinned and returned it, then faced the wall ahead of her. She used the gun to fire another hook into it, then began threading a second rope.

Wade tried not to look down.

***

Quinn could almost feel each blister as it erupted from the skin lining the palms of his hands. He was wearing gloves but the rope felt hot, burning even, as he gripped each section tightly and hauled the weight of his body ever upwards into the darkness.

"You okay, Q-Ball?" Remmy's voice filtered through to his thoughts. He tried to concentrate on the voice. Tried to avoid thinking about what would happen if he let go of the rope.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he replied half-heartedly. "How far now?"

"I can hear voices ahead of us. Can't be far," Remmy answered him. The reassurance in his words gave Quinn some hope that the torture would soon be over.

"Keep movin' up there!" The hard male voice echoed up from the darkness below them. They were obviously slowing some of the rest of the team up. Quinn shut his mind to the pain and heaved himself higher up the ropes.

A strong grip on his shoulders took his weight and pulled it upwards and sideways, until he was kneeling on a very broad platform to the side of the shaft. He looked around him in surprise and saw Remmy and Danielle staring down at him. He hadn't realized that they were that close to the end of the climb.

Rembrandt grinned at him.

"Thanks, Remmy," Quinn said as he pulled his gloves off and shook his hands to cool them down.

"Not me, Q-Ball. Danny hauled you up," Remmy said laughing, and watched in amusement as Danielle slapped Quinn on the back.

"You're welcome," she drawled and then turned to give directions to her team.

There were about a half a dozen men behind her and several more dangling on ropes above their heads. The platform wasn't big and the men were grouped together at one end in front of a precarious looking pile of cardboard boxes.

"Okay, listen up," she ordered. "Beta team here has done good work. They've got the supplies this far. Now it's down to us to get them outta here as quick as we can. You all know what to do, now let's do it people!"

Danny's people turned and started lifting the cardboard boxes. They wrapped ropes around each one and gingerly passed them over the side of the platform to begin the slow measured descent to the bottom of the shaft where Arturo and Hamilton were waiting with the rest of the Renegades. As each box disappeared it was replaced by another one from the men on the ropes above, who were, in turn, being passed the last few remaining boxes from Beta team higher up.

Quinn saw three people not dressed as Renegades, and certainly not from the Nightmare group. They were dressed in good quality casual clothing. Downtown spies who had infiltrated both the trust and homes of the Uptowners. Quinn guessed that they were working under Danny's directions. They stood in a huddle around her, nodding occasionally. One of them glanced in Quinn's direction and leant across to whisper something to Danny. She looked around sharply at him in response and then turned back to her group in an instant.

Quinn dropped to his haunches and hunched over, stretching the muscles in his lower spine.

"Quite a climb, eh Q-Ball?" Rembrandt said as he stretched his arms above his head and then massaged the back of his neck gingerly.

"You're quite a climber, Remmy," Quinn offered in admiration for his friend's expertise on the ropes in the shaft.

"Just a little somethin' I picked up in the Navy. I knew all that training would come in useful some day," he said chuckling lightly.

The sound of movement behind them, brought both their gazes around.

"Any sign of our friend yet?" Quinn asked hopefully. He knew Wade was good on ropes. He'd seen her in action before. This shaft though. It was something else. The darkness seemed to stretch away from them into oblivion. An inky blackness with no relief. He hoped that Wade had some sort of light, anything, just to break the sheer loneliness of the long climb down.

"It's too early yet," Danny explained. "She shouldn't be coming down for about another twenty minutes. Don't worry, my people will watch for her. She's got an identity disc with her. It'll guarantee her safe passage past my sentries higher up."

She looked at them both. "I thought you should both know, we might have trouble," she said quietly.

"What sort of trouble?" Quinn's eyes narrowed.

Danielle looked at Quinn and Rembrandt and answered slowly, "One of my spies tells me they could hear some sort of commotion at the top of the shaft. Now it could be nothing. But if it isn't and the cops are involved, we could be in for a stormy ride down. I'm sending a few men higher up to check things out. I know my people well. I know they can fight their way out of anything. What I need to know is whether you're up to it. If we're in for a fight can you hack it?"

Quinn set his jaw hard. "We can hack it," he answered quietly.

Danny smiled and turned back to her people.

***

Wade could hear Tanya's breathing. Harsh gulps for breath as they eased themselves down the lift shaft, foot by foot.

"How are you doing?" Wade asked as she paused for a quick breather.

"Fine." The reply was quiet and Wade guessed that Tanya was anything but fine. In reality, a life in Uptown with a mother like Grace meant that Tanya was unprepared for the rougher aspects of life. She guessed that shinnying down ropes in the darkness qualified as rough.

"Did you hear something?" Tanya's voice echoed off the sides of the shaft.

"No I didn'..." Wade hesitated and listened through the silence around them. She thought she could hear voices. They carried up from below them. Male voices. Shouting. Her heart did a leap. She mentally crossed her fingers that the voices were friendly.

"Come on, we've got to keep moving," she said as she started to move down the ropes again.

After what appeared to Wade and Tanya to be an eternity, Wade spotted what looked like pinpoints of light some way below. The light was moving. It darted from side to side, but she couldn't make out who or how far away it was.

"Wade?"

"Yeah. What's the matter?" Wade replied as she concentrated on gaining a foothold further down her rope and swinging her feet into the wall in readiness to attach another hook.

"What do you think the chances are of finding my father?"

""We'll find him," Wade replied firmly and maneuvered herself into a safe position so that she could fire her gun at the wall in front of her. With another rope threaded and attached she started another descent. She heard Tanya move onto the rope which she had vacated.

"I wish I had as much confidence as you. You're so brave really," Tanya continued.

Wade smiled in the darkness, pleased that the young girl couldn't see her face. If only she knew how brave she really felt. Having a younger companion meant having to pretend she felt brave when in fact she was getting more and more apprehensive about the whole thing.

"Let's just say that I've been a lot of places and done a lot of things. I kinda don't get freaked so much any more," she said, forcing confidence into her voice and swinging her body weight down some more. "Anyway, you're pretty brave yourself," she added.

"I am?" Tanya echoed.

"Sure. I can't see many twelve year olds going down a lift shaft on ropes, and in complete darkness, can you?" Wade said laughing.

"I guess not, " Tanya admitted and laughed too.

"Tanya, we'll find your Dad. I'll help you. We will find him," Wade promised and then stopped speaking. The voices were louder now. She could almost feel Tanya stiffen above her, as she heard them too. For a moment they both froze against the wall, silently suspended in the darkness.

Suddenly Wade saw what appeared to be two or three dark shapes climbing steadily on the far wall of the lift shaft. She prayed Tanya would see them too and keep quiet. She needn't have worried. The shadows disappeared into the darkness above them. The two young women let out a collective sigh of relief.

The light which hit them from below was blinding. The flashlight was powerful and Wade winced as she closed her eyes and reached a hand up to shield them from the beam's intensity. Her other hand gripped the rope tightly.

"You up there. Identify yourselves!"

"Wade Welles and a friend, you're expecting me. Charles arranged it." Wade hoped fervently that these were Renegades. If they weren't, then she'd just signed Charles's death warrant as well as their own.

"You got identification?" The male voice was flat, emotionless.

"Sure. A disc. Wait a second," she replied and reached her free hand into her jeans pocket. Then she changed hands and reached into the other pocket. The emptiness which greeted her made her stomach turn. She'd lost the disc.

"Um. Guys, I've got a slight problem. You see I seem to have lost..." Wade heard the weapons load as the men stared up at her. They weren't going to listen to her. They were just going to shoot them, there and then. No second chance. Just straight execution.

"Hey. You gotta listen to.." Wade's words of explanation were lost in the crescendo of noise which descended down the shaft from above them.

Lights. Dozens of lights. The beams searching every wall of the shaft from high above them. Voices. Shouting. Giving instructions. And then the sound of weapons firing. First from above them, some distance at the top end of the shaft, and then from the people who were only a few dozen feet below them. Wade flattened herself against the lift wall, twisted her wrists around the rope and held on tightly. She glanced up at Tanya and noticed that she too was flat against the wall. She caught a glimpse of her pale, terrified face as they both hung in the darkness and waited.

***

Quinn and Rembrandt heard the shouting and looked up. Danny had moved quickly to the far end of the platform and was staring upwards. She nodded at two men and they started to climb the ropes which hung at the side and disappeared into the darkness above them. Danny turned to the remaining Renegades.

"Okay, this is it. Sounds like our little party is about to start. Get your weapons and get ready. You two finish sending the supplies down and then get back down to warn the groups below. You two come with me." Danny looked meaningfully at Quinn and Rembrandt.

They followed Danny's lead up a set of ropes which hung to the far side of the platform, in the opposite direction to where her main group were assembling their weapons.

"If your friend's on her way down, she should be right in the middle of all that," Danny said as she climbed slowly. "I gotta be with my men. I'll show you the platform where you can wait for her, along with two sentries I sent up earlier. It's up to you to help her get down. I can't afford to waste any men in waiting for her. You understand?"

The climb seemed quicker than the last one. Perhaps it was the desperation and fear which the two men felt as they climbed. Desperation to reach their friend in time and fear that they may be too late already.

Danny finally swung herself onto the platform above them and stared at the sight which greeted her.

Quinn looked at the two bullet ridden corpses. Danny's sentries hadn't stood a chance.

She turned to look at Quinn and Rembrandt, her eyes cold and determined.

"I'm goin' up to be with my men. Whoever did this is gonna get their reward and I'm gonna do it personally." She jammed a piece of gum hard into her mouth as she swung herself up onto the old lift cable and swiftly disappeared into the darkness.

Quinn picked up the flashlight which lay next to the dead sentry and shone it into the darkness. The shots rang out immediately from above, and he and Remmy ducked and leapt to the side of the platform.

"The flashlight, Q-Ball. Turn it off!" Remmy urged loudly as they pushed themselves into the side of the wall and waited.

Quinn extinguished the light and the shots ceased immediately.

"Remmy? Remmy? Is that you?"

The voice came from above them and Quinn's heart did a leap as he heard it. He grabbed at Rembrandt as he went to move into the center of the platform.

"Wade! We're here. Where are you? Can you get down here?" Quinn called, trying to keep his voice down slightly.

"Am I glad to see you guys. Um. I've got a bit of a problem with the getting down part!" she answered sheepishly, twisting herself angrily as she tried to free her wrist which was totally caught in the rope above her. She tried hauling herself upwards to reach with her other hand but couldn't. It was impossible.

Quinn swung the light upwards briefly and then shut it off. The snipers above them had hardly enough time to react. The single gunshot which greeted the light fell wide of its mark. Another shot rang out and then a cry. Seconds later the well dressed body of an Uptown police officer hurtled past the platform and was swallowed up in the darkness beneath them.

Quinn groaned and looked in desperation at Rembrandt. He shook his head.

"Is there any way you can free yourself?" he called up, crossing his fingers that she would be able to help herself.

Wade's weight was suspended in a single circle of rope which was bound tightly around her wrist and attached to the base of the climbing hook above her. She needed a knife to cut herself free, and even if she managed that she'd drop like a stone if she did. Tanya was pinned against the wall of the shaft and hadn't moved since the gunshots had started. Wade suspected she was unable, or unwilling to move and she was grateful that she hadn't got to worry at the moment about her falling. She had enough problems.

As she waited for her friends to come up with some sort of a plan, she had one more try at dislodging herself. She felt the hook start to loosen and then to her horror she felt her weight shift downwards. A sharp pain spiked down her arm as the rope bit into the skin some more. She winced and gritted her teeth. She looked up at the hook and realized that her attempts to jiggle herself free had loosened the hook so much, she was about to be released faster than she'd intended. She swallowed and looked down towards her friends.

"Hey guys I think you'd better think of something fast!" she urged as she heard the creak of the metal, as the hook moved some more.

The shaft echoed with shots being fired above them. The pings of bullets ricocheting off walls came in rapid succession, followed by the boom of an explosion that rocked the entire building. Screaming and yelling mingled with the sounds of heavy weapons firing.

Quinn pressed himself against the wall, panting as he tried to see in the gloom of the shaft. There was an occasional flash of light from gunfire, by which he could see the dim outline of Wade hanging among the ropes above.

"Guys," she yelled. "I can't hang around here much longer! The rope's giving out! Tanya, are you okay?"

A shaky little girl's voice rose up from where a huddled shape was pressed against the wall. "I think so. Wish I'd thought of bringing a bulletproof vest."

Rembrandt checked the buckles on his ropes. "Hang on, sweetheart! I'm comin'!"

"You mean, *we're* coming," Quinn said, getting his equipment ready.

A human shape fell from above. It was one of the robot police officers Quinn had seen when they first landed in Downtown. Its body was twisted and mangled, jetting sparks from countless bulletholes. It swept past Quinn and Rembrandt to fade away in the darkness. A few seconds later, they heard a crash softened by distance.

Rembrandt rested a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "Q-Ball, you could barely make it up here as it is. I'm gonna need to move fast, and no offense, but you'll only slow me down. Now you just stay here and be my backup. Grab that rope. I'll have Wade and that other girl slide down it to you."

Quinn was about to protest, then forced himself to think logically about the situation. And he nodded. "Okay, you're right, Remmy. Go to it."

Rembrandt clapped Quinn on the shoulder, then moved away. A flash from above showed Rembrandt pulling himself upwards. Quinn heard the clinks and grunts as Rembrandt made his way up towards Wade.

* * *

Wade bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain. The rope around her wrist was tightening from her weight. The fibrous cord was sinking deeper into her skin. Wade tried once again to pull herself free, but succeeded only in making it worse.

"How's it going, Tanya?" Wade gasped.

"I'm okay," the girl responded. "But...I can't get down. The rope's not long enough and you've got the gun to set the next hook in the wall."

"I know. I wish I could throw you the gun, but I can't see and can't afford to drop it. As for lights..."

More gunfire sounded above them.

Then Wade heard a clinking that grew louder. By the dim flashes of light from above, she could see the hook that flew up and snagged a cable bolted into the wall. Then Rembrandt climbed up the rope attached.

He grinned at her. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Rembrandt," Wade sighed. "Boy, am I glad to see you. I could use a hand..."

Then she felt a jolt of pain and cried out as the hook gave way some more, dropping her an inch.

"I gotcha," Rembrandt said. He braced his foot on the wall and began untangling the rope around Wade's wrist.

"Okay," Rembrandt continued, "here's what we're gonna do. Grab that rope at my waist. When I get you free, you slide down it to Quinn."

Wade felt the rope around her wrist loosen and let out a deep breath of relief. She groped in the darkness until she found the rope tied to Rembrandt's belt. Rembrandt freed her wrist. Wade began to fall. She wrapped an arm around the rope. It went tight.

Wade slid down the rope for what felt like three floors until she collided with something. It was Quinn's chest. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her from falling.

"Wade, you don't know how glad I am to see you again in one piece," he said, smiling broadly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Wade sighed. "My arm's killing me, but I'm fine."

"Heads up," Rembrandt called down.

Quinn reluctantly let Wade go. She pressed herself against the wall to shift over on the narrow ledge. She was just in time to avoid Tanya as she careened down the rope into Quinn's arms.

He steadied her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Tanya said, "why does everybody keep asking me that? Let's just go. I wanna get out of this place."

The gunfire below them suddenly ceased. Yelling and screaming grew louder, then lights appeared. Wade hugged the wall as a man and woman in camouflage gear slid down ropes past their ledge. They were moving at lightning speed, practically free-falling if it weren't for their ropes.

"What's going on?" Quinn yelled.

"Bomb," the male soldier falling past yelled. "We got the supplies, now the commander's blowing up the shaft so the cops can't follow!"

"How long until it blows?" Quinn called out.

The female soldier flew past yelling, "Ninety seconds and counting!"

Then they were both gone.

"Great," Quinn said. "You guys up for more climbing?"

Tanya groaned. "At this point, I'd rather throw myself off this ledge."

Wade looked at her, then grinned. "Hey...that's not a bad idea."

Rembrandt landed on the ledge, propping himself up with a foot as he hung onto his rope. "You heard?"

"We heard," Quinn said. "Anybody got any ideas, now's the time."

"I got one," Wade said. "Like Tanya said, we throw ourselves off, free-fall like these other guys. Slow down just before we land."

"Guess we don't have a choice," Rembrandt said. "Hook up, guys."

They began hooking their ropes to the one Rembrandt had secured in the wall. Quinn pulled off one of his gloves and handed it to Wade.

"You'll need this so you don't burn your hand on the slide down," he said.

Wade nodded and pulled on his glove. It didn't quite fit, but it would do. Rembrandt pulled off his own glove and gave it to Tanya. As they worked, Warfield slid past with her usual crazed smile.

"Ground floor," she yelled, "poverty, homelessness, hunger, and fashion accessories! Everybody out!"

Wade watched her slide into the darkness, then asked, "Who is that maniac?"

"Danielle Warfield," Quinn said. "She organized all this. And she makes the Terminator look warm and fuzzy. Everybody ready?"

Everyone nodded.

Quinn took a deep breath, then yelled, "Geronimo!" And he jumped off the platform.

Quinn tried to hold back the panic that flushed through him as he plummeted down the dark elevator shaft. He resisted the urge to stop himself from falling. His only hope of surviving this was to reach the bottom as fast as possible. He could hear screams coming from behind him as the others fell after him.

Then a low rumble sounded that grew into a massive explosion. Even without touching them, Quinn could feel the air move telling him that the walls were shaking with fury. Clouds of dust began to choke the air. And the rumbling was getting louder.

Through the wind which ripped at Quinn's clothes and face, he could see the light at the bottom of the shaft. He reached up with his gloved hand. He very gently held onto the rope, lightly grazing it with his fingers. Then he began to tighten the grip.

Quinn began to slow down as he reached the ground floor. He could smell smoke and his hand burned from the friction of the rope, even through his glove, but he kept going. Hamilton and Danielle were waiting at the base of the shaft, gesturing with frantic motions.

"Get down here!" Danielle yelled. "Now! Move, move, move!"

Quinn tightened his grip on the rope. He snapped to a sudden halt in front of her. Quinn unbuckled his ropes and swung himself through the open door. Warfield grabbed him and yanked him out of the way.

Quinn was propelled into the abandoned department store. Now boxes of supplies were stacked everywhere and being loaded into vans out front. The light of Downtown, even though it was dim, was harsh to him after the hours spent in total darkness. But it was a welcome pain that let him know he was alive.

Wade stumbled out of the open elevator door, followed by Arturo, Rembrandt, and Tanya. Just as the little girl came through, the thunderous rumble grew deafening. Rocks and chunks of concrete came pouring down from the roof of the shaft, bringing with it clouds of dust that blocked Quinn's view. By the time it cleared, the elevator shaft was packed solid with rubble and debris.

Warfield popped a stick of gum into her mouth. "Well, that's that. The cops can't follow us down that baby, and by the time they send the copters down, we'll be long-gone. Good work, everybody."

The Renegades and the gang members let out a cheer and began high-fiving each other.

Warfield turned to the Sliders and grinned at the four of them. "Well, I see you found your friend. And you picked up an extra. Hey, there, kid. You okay?"

Tanya tried to brush dirt off her face, but only smeared it. "Yeah, I'm...I'm fine."

"Tanya?" Hamilton came forward, staring at her with widening eyes.

Tanya looked up at him. Her eyes widened in recognition. Her lip trembled. She held out an arm tentatively towards him. "D-Daddy?"

"Oh, Tanya." Hamilton swept the girl into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him as tight as she could.

"Daddy?" Warfield blurted.

Rembrandt looked at Wade, who was watching Tanya and Hamilton hold each other with a soft smile on her face.

"You mind fillin' us in, sweetheart?" Rembrandt asked.

Wade nodded as she clasped her hands in front of her face. "I'd love to."

Wade sat back against the wall and rubbed ruefully at her wrist. The cuts and blue bands of bruising which crossed the skin of her lower arm, served as a reminder of her earlier escapade. She sighed and then caught Quinn looking sideways at her from the doorway.

"How's it feel?" he asked quietly as he sat down beside her. He knew she hated fuss, and he knew she wouldn't want the others to hear him.

"Pretty much how it looks," she replied and then grinned. "Seriously, it's not that bad. I've had worse."

"Yeah, I guess," he said and looked away.

"Something wrong?" she asked. He had been strangely reticent since their return to Danielle's headquarters.

"All you told us. About the people who live up there. It just hit home that's all," he said, indicating with a nod the Uptown skyscrapers.

"We've seen worse worlds," Wade reminded him, studying his face as he sat staring at the wall opposite.

"Yeah, I know. But it got me thinking about our world," he observed.

"I know," she replied. She couldn't disagree with him on this one. He was right. As she'd explored the Virtual Library in Grace's apartment, she'd had that same sinking feeling as she'd read the history of the world. How it had come to be like this. The various factors which combined to create the madness they now called "society".

"Knowing it happened on this world. Seeing the results down here. I mean, back home the welfare state is a joke. It's already started. The decay, the poverty and homelessness. What's to say it won't happen the same way as it did here?" Quinn looked at Wade. She put her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. She had no words of comfort and no words of reassurance.

"Wade! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

The young voice broke the silence and Wade's head jerked forwards, her eyes opening. Her face creased into a smile as she saw Tanya entering the room. For the first time since Wade had met her, the girl positively shone with excitement. The passion which had always lingered, simmering beneath, now surfaced and Wade could see what she should have realized all along. Tanya belonged down here. She was her father's daughter, just as Brenda was Grace's daughter in spirit and mind. This child belonged to the Downtowners.

As Tanya slid down the wall and sat next to Wade she looked across at Quinn. He smiled at her.

"My Dad says you guys don't come from around here. That you're from out of town," Tanya commented.

"Yeah, he's right, we're not from around here, but it's a long story," Quinn answered, avoiding the truth. He pulled himself to his feet. He decided to leave Wade to field Tanya's questions. Besides, he wasn't really in the mood for chatting.

"I'll catch you later," he said as he moved out of the door and headed towards the Professor and Rembrandt. The middle of the Renegade's warehouse was thronged by Danielle's people crowding around a card game. Remmy was in the middle of it and Arturo was wearing a bemused expression as he watched him.

"Is he winning?" Quinn whispered as he leaned across Arturo's shoulder.

"It does appear to be that way," Arturo replied softly as he shook his head and tutted quietly.

"I didn't know he had enough money to gamble with. Didn't he lose that last game?" Quinn hissed.

"It would seem that he has a benefactor, Mr. Mallory," Arturo answered in a whisper.

"Who?" Quinn asked with interest.

"Me!"

Wade's voice floated into Quinn's ear. He turned to look at her in surprise and she grinned back mischievously.

"You suddenly got rich?" he asked and stared at her.

"I just traded in some of the goods we brought from the last world," she reminded him.

"You kept the gold? They let you?" Quinn asked. He was amazed at her sheer determination to hang onto some of the gold she'd brought through the wormhole.

"Oh they took a lot of it, but let's just say I'm good at keeping the things I want," she said and smiled sweetly. She produced a gold chain from under her sweater and dangled it in the air.

"Exactly how much do you have?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Enough," she said mysteriously and tucked the chain back inside her sweater for safe keeping. Trading the gold with the Renegades had been easy. Getting away with the rest of her gold intact was not going to be such a piece of cake. She wished she could have kept more, the police had taken a whole pile away, but realistically if she'd had the rest of it when she descended the lift shaft, she'd have dropped like a stone.

"I thought you were talking to Tanya. What did you tell her?" Quinn asked curiously, seeing the young girl moving to the far side of the room.

"About what?" Wade replied and looked up at him.

"About where we come from."

"Enough to satisfy a twelve year old's curiosity," she said quietly and grinned. "Don't worry, I didn't mention vortexes and parallel worlds."

Quinn smirked.

Tanya had gone ahead of Wade and was now standing shyly behind her father while he talked with Danny at the far side of the warehouse.

"You have a visitor, Ham," Danny observed as she stuck some gum into her mouth and put her foot up on a chair outside her office. "You wanna piece?" she asked, offering the child a new piece of gum.

Tanya looked at it for a second and then looked at her father. He nodded and smiled.

"Thanks," she said and taking the gum, stuffed it into her mouth and started to enjoy it.

"Wade told us about how she reckoned you'd make a good Renegade. What do you think of that, you wanna learn from me?" Danny asked, and watched the young girl's face as her eyes widened.

"I dunno really," she stuttered as she turned to gaze at her father.

"You want to stay down here with your old man or go back?" Hamilton asked gently.

"I don't ever want to go back," Tanya stated adamantly.

"What about your mother?" Hamilton reminded her.

Tanya scowled. "She can get on with her own life. I want to be with you."

"The girl's made her mind up, Ham," Danny said and grinned. "Reminds me of a very determined man who arrived down here a few years back eh?" She laughed.

Hamilton chuckled. "Yeah, I guess it does at that."

He turned to Tanya and put his hands on her shoulders. "But it'll be awhile before she takes you on anything really dangerous. We'll just be teaching you basic survival skills. When you get older, then you can decide whether you want to continue working with the Renegades or choose another path for your life."

Tanya nodded again, her eyes shining with joy and pride.

Wade watched the exchange from the other side of the room and smiled softly to herself. It looked as though Tanya had her life mapped out for her now. Fighting along with the resistance, until some day maybe the Renegades would make that dent in Uptown's armor crack wide, and the floodgates to change would open. Maybe Tanya herself would never see that crack appear. Maybe it would be her children or her grandchildren. The one thing Wade was certain of, was that Tanya would enjoy it more than she would the sterile, cosseted environment of Uptown.

The arm which rested lightly on her shoulder made her turn.

She smiled.

"You know I'm not sure which of us got the worse end of the deal," Arturo commented as he followed her gaze to Hamilton and Tanya across the room.

"How do you mean?" Wade asked, puzzled.

"Well, from what you've told us, the life you led with the Uptowners wasn't exactly all sunshine and laughter, now was it?" he replied and turned to look at her.

"You know it's funny. I kept worrying about you guys. When I realized what Downtown was like I really felt sorry for you. Cold and hungry, while I was well fed and sleeping in luxury. But I realized that the people up there, they have nothing. The people down here might have poverty and disease, but they have humanity and they've still got their soul. That's something the Uptowners have lost." Wade bit her lip and dragged her gaze to Rembrandt and his game.

"But I wonder if you asked these people here, what they would really want. Would they all stand up and nobly state that they'd rather stay with all the disease and poverty? Or do you think a lot of them would prefer the cosseted, pretentious lifestyle to be found in Uptown?" Arturo offered quietly.

"I've seen all the servants trying to get into Uptown. I guess a lot of them would prefer to trade their humanity," Wade answered sadly.

"Who are we to judge, Miss Welles? Who are we to judge?" Arturo concluded as he squeezed Wade's shoulder and they moved to join Quinn and Rembrandt as the game neared its conclusion.

***

"I don't like leaving like this," Wade said in a whisper, as she pulled on a camouflage jacket which Quinn handed to her, and looked apprehensively at the darkness outside the windows. The night-time rested lightly on the Renegade's headquarters.

"I know, but it's like the Professor said," he hissed back as he ushered her towards the door. "We can't let them see the timer or the portal.. If we do, then there'll be those of them who want to leave. We can't let them."

"I wouldn't worry about my people wanting to leave. They've gotta get past me first." The voice jangled Quinn's nerves as he put his hand on the door to open it and then paused. He turned his head swiftly and looked straight into Warfield's face. She smirked at his surprise.

"Not a lot gets past me," she reminded him as she pushed the door open for him. She nodded her agreement to let him pass through it and then motioned for Wade to follow him.

"I know you're about to leave and I ain't about to stop you. I just want to make sure my people don't follow you." She grinned at the look of surprise which crossed the faces of the four friends.

Three.....two....one.

Arturo's voice counted down and the timer pushed out the beam of light which forced the portal to open in front of him.

Its wide circular mouth sucked in the air around it and the four friends stood together in front of it. The light formed an eerie glow around them as they hesitated.

Danielle stared at it briefly and then set her jaw.

"Go before my people see this. I don't know who you are or where you come from. I just don't want my people to know there's another alternative to the fight. If they knew that then they'd give up. Go!" She stuck a piece of gum in her mouth and then watched as one by one, her four visitors departed from Downtown forever.

When the wormhole had closed, Danielle sighed and headed back into the Renegade headquarters. As she did so, she thought about the four strangers who had come so briefly into her life. And how, in that short space of time, they'd managed to bring something special into Hamilton's life and, as she secretly hoped, her own life.

THE END

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