SYNOPSIS: A tour of a still-afloat counterpart of the Titanic takes a sour turn for the Sliders when they become involved with two of their counterparts and a mysterious third figure who wants them all dead.

Here we go folks, this is the "Sliders on the Titanic" story that I have been promising since January, but it is not a spoof and it is not a crossover with the movie. In all truthfulness, I had the basic idea for this story almost a year ago before Titanic was even released to theaters. However, I did like the movie (who didn't?) so I've thrown in a few references.... including a direct reference to one of the characters in the movie. But I would like to point out that if you are looking for another version of the Titanic movie, look somewhere else. This story contains no flying on the bow of the ship, no big ol' diamond, and Quinn does not draw Wade nude.... (darnit!).

I'd like to thank Melody Ortloff (aka "Spamgirl") who helped me break through one of those annoying writer's blocks I tend to get. Without her, this story would have probably never been finished.

As always, Sliders is the property of Universal/Saint Claire Entertainment and the Sci-Fi Channel... but not FOX because they're a bunch of drooling idiots who are so unoriginal, they have to rip off movies like Twister and Godzilla for those lame movie-of-the-week things they do (buncha morons). One character and a few stolen lines belong to James Cameron, 20th Century Fox, and Paramount. I belong to me.

This story is rated PG-13 for a couple of dirty words. Don't come crying to me if you read them and get offended because I WARNED YOU, YOU FACIST PIG!!!

ENJOY!

The door of room 113 of the Dominion Hotel flew open revealing Rembrandt and Wade laughing uncontrollably. Quinn and Arturo turned and grinned at the two as the entered. Clearly they were having a good laugh at something.

"Let me guess," Arturo started. "You got into the elevator and happened to meet Jerry Sienfeild who decided to try out a few of his idiotic "Do you ever notice...?" jokes on you?"

Wade presses her lips together in a thin smile. "No," she said. "We were just talking about the movie."

She and Rembrandt had been going through the newspaper when they happened upon an advertisement for a summer blockbuster movie based on a campy television show from the sixties. It was Star Trek: The Movie, starring Nicholas Cage as Captain Kirk and David Schwimmer as Mr. Spock. Apparently, on this world Star Trek had never experienced the resurgence in popularity it had on Earth Prime and ended up remade in a hundred million dollars worth of special effects and explosions.

"The movie sucked, man," Rembrandt laughed on the verge of tears. "I mean, it was soooooo bad!" He bent down and picked up a piece of paper that was lying in the floor of the entryway.

"Nick Cage was walking around saying things like, 'phasers on stun' and 'beam me up, Scotty' like they were sacred or something. I mean, I always liked Star Trek back on Earth Prime, but that movie..." she burst out laughing again. "...it sucked harder than the black hole the Klingons got pulled into." She and Rembrandt both burst out in laughter again.

"Hey, it could be worse," Quinn said smiling at their joviality. "They could have made a hundred million dollar Lost in Space movie."

"No one would be that desperate," Arturo grinned. He spied Remmy unfolding the piece of paper he had picked up off the floor. "What have you got there, Rembrandt?"

"I don't know," he said. "It was pushed under the door. Probably some kind of an ad or something." He finished unfolding it and cleared his throat. "One night only," he read, "The Ship of Dreams: The RMS Titanic will be holding an open house for the public." His eyes opened in disbelief at what he was reading. His voice became a bit more quite in awe. "Come and see the ship of legend."

"Titanic?" Wade said in shock. "The same Titanic that sunk?"

"No, not our Titanic, Miss Welles," Arturo answered getting up and taking the flyer from Rembrandt. "But the Titanic of this world. It must not have struck the iceberg here and survived. My friends, when I was a boy in England, my great aunt would tell me stories of the Titanic... she was one of the fortunate souls who survived the disaster."

He seemed to stare at the piece of paper for a few minutes and took a deep breath. "I would like to see that ship. I loved my aunt dearly and when she died, I..." he took a deep breath and continued. "I would really like to see it."

Quinn took the timer out of his jacket pocket and flipped it open. "Well, we've got plenty of time," he said. "We don't slide for another six hours."

"What the hell, man?" Rembrandt said smiling. "I'd like to see it too."

"Then it's agreed," Wade said. "Titanic, here we come!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After paying the cab driver with the Russian accent, the sliders stared at the large monolith sitting silently near the docks. It was a perfectly preserved antique... it looked just like it had in all of the pictures they had seen of it. Though the ship seemed misplaced in some sort of way.

When they finally reached the gangplank through the ocean of onlookers, they were met by a man dressed in a blue and white uniform with the words Titanic Retreat monogrammed on the sleeve. He looked up and stood ready as if he was in boot camp and they were all a line of drill sergeants. "Mr.... Mallory!"

Quinn cocked his head and grinned. "You know me?"

"Yes sir," the uniformed man replied. "Inventor of the anti-grav. Everyone knows you."

"Really?" Quinn grinned broadly. "You mind if we come aboard to take a look?"

"Of course, sir! We're privileged to have you here." the man said smiling and motioning up the gangplank. "Welcome on board the Titanic."

Quinn chuckled softly to himself as he and his friends acceded the steel bridge to the ship of legend.

"Anti-grav?" Rembrandt said with a twinge of confusion on his words. "What was that fool talking about?"

"I was trying to invent an anti-gravity device back on Earth Prime," Quinn explained. "I screwed up the equations and accidentally invented sliding. Apparently, the me on this world must've had more luck." He stopped in his tracks and looked at the others. "I must be rich on this world."

Wade nodded. "Yep... filthy stinking rich. Imagine Quinn, had things gone a little different, you'd be back home and rolling in piles of money instead of sliding all over the place with us."

"Thanks Wade," Quinn mumbled. He looked up as they reached the top of the gangplank and entered the ship through an opening on the side of the hull. The air inside was cool - obviously air conditioned. Red carpet and varnished wood with gold highlights gave the entrance an air of elegance that none of them had ever been exposed to.

"Reminds me of the decorations in Caesar's Palace, 1988" Rembrandt said whistling. "Topps played to a crowd of thousands there."

"You played Caesar's Palace in front of a thousand people?" Wade asked never taking her eyes off of the intricate decor.

Rembrandt shrugged. "Maybe hundreds. We were on before Wayne Newton. Kinda of low point in our career."

Quinn spotted a map of the ship that had a big red arrow that pointed to their location and had "YOU ARE HERE" written in gold letters. Quinn studied the map and pointed to a nearby elevator. "That way to the upper deck," he said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Professor Arturo could hardly believe his eyes when he gazed out upon the deck of the Titanic. "No words to describe it," he whispered. "It's as though we stepped into a time warp back to 1912."

"1912, huh?" Rembrandt said as he looked upon an ATM machine embedded in the steel hull. 1912 in the twilight zone maybe."

"It makes sense that they'd make some changes to Titanic over the years," Wade offered. "This thing is probably run by the latest computers and has all the newest conveniences." She put her hands on the railing and shut her eyes taking in a healthy dose of the salty air.

"Indeed." Arturo wandered over to another map. "There's a museum on "A" deck. I would like to see the history of this ship. No doubt it will prove interesting."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crewman that had welcomed the sliders at the gangplank had just been relieved by his superior when a new group of people approached the entryway to the ship.

"Mr. Mallory," the man at the gangplank eloquently said. "We've been expecting you. My name is Andrew Hiller... ship's captain."

Hiller was young by the look of things. His blonde hair was graying on the sides of his head that were visible beneath his ornate captain's cap and he did have crow's feet. But at the most, he looked only in his early to mid forties. He was quite tall, though and did seem to be a competent officer.

The Quinn Mallory native to that world nodded and smiled. "Captain Hiller, it's a pleasure to meet you. Allow me to introduce my wife, Wade Mallory."

Hiller took Wade Mallory's hand and kissed it, "A pleasure ma'am."

Wade smiled a bit and nodded. "Thank you, captain."

Captain Hiller couldn't help but notice that Wade Mallory seemed to wear sadness like other women wore mink. Sure, she smiled and carried on... but it was so fake and transparent that he could tell that she was extremely unhappy. Mallory, on the other hand, struck him as outgoing and flamboyant... everything Captain Hiller had been told he would be.

Mallory continued to introduce the people in his entourage. "This is my lawyer, Karl Lewis."

The captain nodded in acknowledgment. Karl Lewis was a man in his thirties by the look of things. Hiller never understood why the rich kept lawyers around them like some people keep their pet dogs. Perhaps he was always afraid of the rouge frivolous lawsuit or perhaps the reason Mallory had his lawyer around him like a dog was because the old joke was true... there were things even a dog won't do.

Captain Hiller's eyes fell on the last person in the group who he recognized immediately. "And you must be Conrad Bennish, jr. Titanic is honored to have you on board."

Bennish patted the captain on the back. "Thanks man," he laughed as he handed him a dollar bill.

Hiller tried to keep his composure. Bennish had become a pop icon the last two or three years. He was Mallory's partner... helped him invent the antigrav. Ever since then, Bennish, with his outgoing and carefree attitude had become a must-have on the talk show circuit. Everybody wanted him. Arsenio Hall, Pat Sajak, even bad boy Dennis Rodman had him on his show. The country loved Conrad Bennish jr., probably for all the wrong reasons... but they loved him all the same.

"It's been a long trip, captain," Mallory sighed. "Can you get someone to show us to our rooms?"

"If you'll just go up the walkway one of our bellhops will meet you and escort you." Captain Hiller said smiling and fumbling with the bill that Bennish had given him. "And if their is anything at all I can do for you, just let me know."

"Thanks," Mallory grumbled as he took his wife by the hand and started up the gangplank.

"You're cranky, man," Bennish whispered to Mallory on the way up to the ship. "Don't worry, this is just what you need. Five days of wine women and song."

"I've got the woman," Mallory said gently squeezing his wife's hand.

"Fine, I'll take the women... You take the wine and song," Bennish answered, laughing as they entered the boat.

Karl Lewis remained behind with the captain. "Mr. Mallory is not to be disturbed on this trip. I don't care if his own mother kicks while we're out. I need you and your crew to take care of my employer."

Hiller took offense at Lewis' tone, but he felt obliged to honor his request. "Of course, sir."

Lewis turned to follow his employer up the gangplank when Hiller coughed (an excuse to throw a lewd comment at Lewis' direction without his knowledge). What do I look like, a damned bellboy? You take care of Mallory, my friend, Hiller thought as he watched the lawyer disappear into the ship. I'll take care of Titanic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Titanic museum was unusually deserted. People had been filtering out of it for the past ten minutes or so. The sliders paid it no attention at all. They were too fascinated by the pictures. There was a picture of the Titanic when it was painted gun metal gray and put into naval service during World War II as a troop transport, there was a picture of Titanic in a port of some tropical island... Possibly Hawaii, and there was a picture of the Titanic holding position near the Statue of Liberty under a veritable thunderstorm of fireworks. To the sliders, the ship seemed terribly out of place in each of the portraits as if it didn't belong there... as if it was never supposed to be there. But, then again, to the sliders, the only natural place they had ever seen this vessel was two miles below the surface of the Northern Atlantic Ocean.

"Extraordinary," Professor Arturo whispered to himself as he made his way through the museum. He silently read the words on a plaque under a picture of Captain E.J. Smith. "On it's maiden voyage, the RMS Titanic made it's way from Southampton to New York though not without incident."

"What incident?" Wade asked. "They missed the iceberg... right?"

Arturo looked up at her. "Wrong... they hit the iceberg dead on."

"But if it hit the iceberg dead on, why didn't it sink like it did on our world?" Rembrandt asked while he inspected a scale model of the ship.

"Watertight compartments," Arturo explained. "You see, on our world, Titanic was attempting to go around the iceberg in it's path when it impacted - ripping holes in the hull across six of the compartments. Now, these compartments were designed to keep the ship afloat should a disaster of this type occur... but the Titanic of our world sustained too much damage to too many of the compartments and went down." He looked around the room and sighed. "On this world, the message to turn the ship was not relayed in time and the Titanic hit the iceberg head on... however, it only sustained damage to one compartment and the ship stayed afloat. It limped into New York five days later. She was dubbed 'the luckiest ship on the sea'" Arturo shook his head and leaned up against a nearby pillar. "Extraordinary," he said again.

Then a look of confusion crossed his face and he jumped away from the pillar as if he had been bitten by it. "What the devil!?" he exclaimed.

Quinn cocked his head, "What is it professor?"

Arturo placed his hand on the pillar and left it there for a few seconds. The vibrations were undeniable. "This ship is moving!" he exclaimed.

"What!?" Rembrandt yelled as he followed his companions who were already running out the door back onto the main deck.

Quinn was the first to make it to the railing and gasped when he saw the dock slowly moving away as the ship glided out to sea. People on the railings were cheering and waving to those on land.

The others soon joined him. "Now what do we do?" Wade said throwing her hands in the air.

"Now," Arturo answered. "We find out where we're going... we find out if there is a way we can get off this ship... and we hope to hell history doesn't repeat itself."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"ETA?" Captain Hiller asked as he looked out upon the Titanic's bow.

"We'll be in position in about one hour and thirty minutes," his friend and first mate Thad Coffey answered him. "Then we can just kick back and pretend we're running the boat, sir."

"Can't wait," Hiller mumbled. The White Star Line had placed Hiller in command of the Titanic about three months ago. He had made eight such trips already (if you could call them "trips" at all).

Sure, being the captain of the Titanic was a great thing to put on a resume... but as for the actual experience, Hiller would give it all up in a second to be back on the bridge of his old ship, the Northern Lights.

Still, the pay was substantial and the White Star Line offered him the most luxurious ship on the sea and any executive officer he wanted... so if course, he brought his old naval friend on board.

It wasn't all bad... but it wasn't a real command with real decisions either. He felt more like a glorified baby-sitter for a ship run completely by computers.

"Sir?" an ensign called out. She was one of the newer additions to the crew and wasn't sufficiently "broken in" yet. To put it frankly, she often appeared terrified.

"Yes...?" Hiller asked trying in vain to remember the young woman's name. "...ensign?"

"Sir, we've just lost all ship to shore communications." she answered him.

Hiller stood behind her and looked over her shoulder. He knew it probably made her nervous, but he had to double-check the panel to make sure she was reading it correctly. "All of them?"

"Yes sir. Phone lines, faxes, radio, e-mail...even satellite transmissions are out."

Hiller saw that she was indeed reading the panel correctly and sighed. "So, what's the trouble?"

"I think it could be a programming glitch." the ensign answered.

"All right, get someone on it. The last thing I want to hear is some well to do wondering why they can't watch Friends or check on Wall Street," Hiller griped. "God, I hate computers."

Coffey grinned broadly and crossed his arms. "Just keep repeating, 'Technology is out friend...', 'Technology is our friend'."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I got a brochure!" Wade announced as she ran up to meet her friends in the large and luxurious area known as the grand staircase. "It looks like Titanic is kind of a floating hotel on this world. It goes out fifty miles into the ocean and just sits there... it's sort of a relaxing getaway."

Arturo took the brochure and read it. "Titanic... the ship of dreams. Now a getaway for the rich and privileged." He looked up at Quinn. "That man at the gangplank must have thought you were your double and let you on because he assumed you had booked passage on this cruise."

"Must have," Quinn agreed. "If that's true, my double may be on board."

"Guys!" a voice called out from an upper level.

It was Rembrandt. He had decided to find out why the Titanic had set sail during a so-called "open house". However, as he descended the staircase, the other sliders could see that he wasn't alone. In fact, he was being led by a giant of a man in a formal uniform.

"Mr. Mallory," the man said. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir. My name is Zack Arnel, chief of security. This... gentleman claims to know you but has no ticket or identification."

Quinn swallowed. "Y-Yeah, he's my... my guest, Rembrandt Brown," he stammered.

"I see, sir." Arnel said taking his massive hand off of Rembrandt's shoulder. He embraced his hand and shook it. "My apologies, Mr. Brown."  

"It's all right, man," Rembrandt said returning the handshake. "You're just doing your job."

Arnel cocked his head. "You know, I was at a ballgame at candlestick park a few years ago and some guy named Brown sang the national anthem. Was that you?"

Rembrandt scratched the side of his head and smirked. "No, I missed my appointment at Candlestick." He looked over at Quinn and arched an eyebrow. Quinn looked away.

"Is this gentlemen with you too?" Arnel asked motioning to Arturo.

Quinn nodded. "Yes, he's our professor... Uh, this is Professor..."

"Professor Maximillian Arturo, expert in the field of cosmology and ontology," he said getting Quinn off the hook. "Mr. Mallory and I have business and where else would be a better place to conduct it than the Titanic?"

"Ah, where indeed?" Arnel responded with a grin. "Well, gentlemen..." he looked at Wade, "...lady. I have inconvenienced you enough. Enjoy the rest of your stay."

Arnel put his hands behind his back and strolled up the grand staircase as casually as any other passenger on the ship, but vigil as a hawk. As soon as he was out of earshot, Rembrandt motioned for the others to gather around.

"Guys," he began. "None of the crew I asked knew nothing about this "open house" thing." he shook the flier they had received at the hotel. "They said that the Titanic never and will never do anything like this! It'd be like the White House inviting the Beverly Hillbillies to have a run of the place."

"That leaves two mysteries," Wade sighed. "Number one, who sent us the flyer and number two: why lie to us? Why put us on a ship bound for the middle of the Pacific?"

"If our luck stays the same as it always has, we'll find out soon and we won't like it very much," Rembrandt added.

"I wonder...," Quinn said scratching his chin. "My counterpart is on board this ship. I wonder if he might be able to help us."

"How?" Wade asked.

"The window of opportunity!" Quinn said tapping Arturo briskly on the arm.

The professor nodded and raised his left eyebrow in revelation. "Indeed. If he was able to convert your equations into the formula for an anti-gravity device, he might know a bit about the sliding equations."

"And if he does, we could use them to control the duration of the slides!" Quinn said continuing the professor's thought. "No more six week slides... if we're in danger, we could activate the wormhole and slide away instantly."

"That sounds like a plan," Rembrandt said. "At the very least, it could get us home faster."

"So what are we waiting for?" Wade asked impatiently. "Let's find your double!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well, what do you think?" Quinn Mallory asked his wife once they had settled into their first class suit on "A" deck. "I know it's a little smaller than you're used to, but..."

"It's fine," Wade Mallory answered sharply. Then, as if she realized how corrosive her tone had been she smiled and spoke in a softer tone. "It's just fine."

"You've been on edge ever since we left New York," Mallory said pouring himself a glass of water at the bar. "You want to tell me what's wrong?"

Wade Mallory shook her head. "No," she quietly answered.

Mallory nodded. "Okay... look, I know that you... I know that we needed this vacation. We're going to be isolated for five days away from the outside world. But there are still very wealthy and very influential people on this ship, so you've got to keep up appearances."

"Appearances," Wade scoffed. "That's all our life is about anymore, Quinn. Just appearances! I feel like I'm wearing a Halloween mask 24 hours a day!" She calmed down a bit and poured herself a drink at the bar. "Quinn, I... This is supposed to be a vacation... can't we just... vacation?"

Quinn joined her and took the glass of liquor away from her. "I hate it when you drink," he said softly. "Wade, I'm a national hero. I've been awarded the Pulitzer, a dozen humanitarian awards, and even an honorary Oscar. President Quayle even told the press that I was 'God's gift to America'. I would give my right arm for just five minutes of peace and quiet and I promise that when we get home..."

"IT'S ALWAYS 'WHEN WE GET HOME', Quinn!" Wade screamed. "After this next tour! After this lecture! After this and after that! I hate being admired my the whole world! I don't care anymore, Quinn, and... and I don't think I care anymore for you either. You're not the same man I married."

Mallory picked up her hand and caressed it gently. "Wade, please say you don't mean that."

She thought back to the Quinn Mallory she once knew when he was nothing but a college kid working at Doppler Computers. Before the money and power had changed him and turned him into an unsympathetic rock. She had always had a crush on him and after he made it big by inventing the anti-grav, he had asked her to marry him. It was the happiest day of her life.

It was one of the last happy days of her life.

"I wish I could," Wade whispered.

The door chimed and Wade took the opportunity to remove herself from the difficult conversation. "Who is it?"

"Uhh... telegram," a voice answered.

Mallory sat up straight and looked at his wife cockeyed. "Telegram?" he whispered. "I didn't know people still sent them."

Wade shrugged and opened the door. She was about to say "Yes?" but the impulse never quite made it to her mouth... squelched out by the shock of seeing herself staring back at her.

"Now, don't panic!" Wade Welles pleaded as she pushed her counterpart into the suite.

Mallory's jaw dropped as he saw his double enter the room behind the mirror image of his wife. "What is this?" he asked angrily.

Holding out his hand, Quinn slowly crossed to where Mallory stood. "Hi... I know this seems strange, but I'm Quinn Mallory." Mallory didn't shake Quinn's hand, so he awkwardly stuck it in his pocket. "I'm you, but I'm from an alternate Earth, a parallel dimension. I need to speak to you."

Mallory saw the professor enter the room and his face went white. "Professor Arturo?" he managed to squeak out. "What is this? Who is this guy? What are you doing here?" He glanced at Rembrandt. "Who's this?"

"My boy," Arturo began. "I know this is... overwhelming to say the least, but everything your double here said is true. He is you... from a parallel universe."

"P-Parallel universe?" Mallory repeated.

"Yeah, it's like another version of your world," Rembrandt chimed in. "'cept things are like, different there... ya know? Okay, this ship... it sank on our world like, a hundred years ago."

Mallory nodded to Remmy more in confusion than anything else. Finally, he turned to his mirror self and asked, "what do you want from me?"

"Your help... nothing more," Quinn answered him.

Wordlessly, Mallory gestured to the study. Quinn entered the smaller room, followed by his double. Wade Mallory started to come with them, but Mallory shoved her away. "Not you. Wait outside." He closed the door leaving his wife in the room with the remaining three sliders.

Wade Mallory stared at the group for a moment. "Drink?" she finally asked motioning to the bar.

"I don't drink," Wade Welles answered her.

The other Wade had already made her way to the bar, downed the drink she had made for herself earlier, and was busy pouring herself another. "Really? You should try it sometimes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quinn explained sliding to his rich double, who listened in stony silence. He finished with, "...so maybe if we could compare your equations to mine, you could help me out a little." Pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, he said, "I've got the basics of my equation written here, so..."

"I don't want to discuss it right now," Mallory said abruptly.

"What? But..."

"I said I don't want to help you. Not now, at least. How do I know you're not just trying to steal my invention?"

"I-I guess you'll have to trust me." Quinn stammered. He held out the paper. "Could you at least take a look at this?"

Mallory snatched the page from Quinn's hand and sat down at the desk. Finally, he folded the paper in his hands and put it away. "Look," he said rubbing his temples. "I... uh... I am a little dumbfounded right now."

Quinn smiled. "I can tell. I guess we did kinda drop in unexpectedly."

"That's an understatement. I need to gather my thoughts," Mallory said rising to his feet. "In the meantime, I can arrange cabins for you and your friends. All of this... uh..."

"Sliding," Quinn prompted.

"Sliding..." Mallory repeated. "It must be hard on you guys. I'm sure you can use a vacation on the Titanic every bit as my wife and I could."

Quinn smiled in agreement. "That's real nice of you, but you know we can't stay long. We've only got four and a half hours left on this world."

"Four and a half hours is all I'll need," the other Mallory said.

Quinn glanced at the door leading to the suite where the voice of Wade (he couldn't tell which Wade) was filtering through the wall. "So, you and Wade are married, huh?"

"For about two years," Mallory concurred. "Right after I invented the anti-grav." he sighed and leaned against the desk. "I'm not the kind of man she deserves... she deserves so much more." He looked up and frowned. "Why am I telling YOU this?"

"Beats me," Quinn wondered.

"I tell you what, uh... Quinn. There's an art show in the lounge in two hours. I don't know about you, but I enjoy fine art." Mallory suggested. "Perhaps you and your friends would like to go in my place... While you're there, I can go over the equations and see if I can help you."

"We could go over the equations together."

"No!" Mallory said rather briskly. "I work better alone. Besides, I still don't entirely trust you... no offense."

"None taken," Quinn answered. "So, who's art is on display?"

Mallory walked to the door scratching his head. "Jack Dawson... he was really big in the 30's." He opened the door and paused. "Oh and some guy... something Picasso. I don't know, he never amounted to much."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In secret, Mallory showed the sliders to the one available room on "B" deck... it was supposed to have been rented to Donald and Ivana Trump, but an emergency at the last minute involving one of their children forced the couple to cancel. It was indeed fortunate since a vacancy on the Titanic was something of a rarity.

Quinn had his doubts about impersonating his double at the art exhibit, but his double reassured him that he didn't know anyone on the boat personally except for Conrad Bennish and Karl Lewis, both of which would not be attending.

So, decked out in tuxedoes (also donated by his wealthy counterpart), the sliders entered the lounge and were almost overwhelmed by the beauty of the room and the personalities surrounding them.

"Holy cow," Wade whispered silently. "That looks like Steven Speilburg over there!"

"That IS Steven Speilburg over there," Arturo confirmed. "I do also believe that Ronald and Nancy Reagan are in attendance... and that looks like Pavoratti."

"Guys, put your tongues back in your mouth," Quinn cautioned. "We're supposed to be used to this kind of thing, remember?"

"Man, what are we DOING here!?" Rembrandt mumbled. "You and that double of your should be fixing the timer like you said!"

"I know, Remmy," Quinn affirmed. "But he acts like he doesn't quite trust us... or..."

"Or what?"

"Or he's hiding something," Quinn flatly said. "We've been screwed over so many times by our own doubles, that I always think of that possibility."

Wade thought back to the versions of Quinn and herself on that parallel earth where the young ran things. Then she remembered the version of Arturo that tried to take credit for sliding when they landed on that earth that they thought was Earth Prime. And THEN she remembered the alternate version of Rembrandt that stole the spotlight from him when he learned that Remmy was going to be paid a million dollars a song for his "comeback" performance. And of course, there was the worse double they had ever met. Namely, Logan Saint Claire. Each time, Wade had a bad feeling about them... but THIS Quinn Mallory didn't seem like such a bad guy. Surly he wasn't like any of the evil doubles they had met before. "But everything I've read about the Quinn on this world said that he was a nice guy," Wade stated. "You know, a man of good character."

"Character is what you do when no one is looking, Miss Welles," Arturo answered. "Regardless, let's just hope that whatever the other Mr. Mallory is hiding - it doesn't affect us and doesn't affect our chances of enhancing the timer."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the deck of the ship, two figures met each other as the sun sank below the surface of the sea. They regarded each other for a moment, neither entirely trusting the other.

"So?" one of them asked.

The other snorted. "So what?"

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, everything's ready."

"What time?"

"Midnight. Is everything set up on your end?"

"The people you want are on board. All of them."

"Good, I've been looking foreword to this for a very long time."

"So have I. It about time that strutting fraud got what's coming to him."

"Don't worry. In a few hours, neither of us will have to worry about Quinn Mallory ever again."

"...and both of us will be very, very wealthy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You wanted to see me, man?" Bennish asked poking his head into the suite.

"Yeah, have a seat," Mallory said motioning to the seat in front of the desk. "Where've you been?"

Bennish shrugged. "Around."

Mallory decided not to pursue the matter. "Bennish, what do you know about parallel universes?"

"Parallel universes? You mean like the ones on Star Trek: Excelsior?"

Mallory gritted his teeth. "Something like that."

"Well," Bennish began. "Simply put, a parallel universe is a mathematical abstraction. They're possible, but have yet to be proven. Imagine it man, same earth, different dimension... where it the same year and your the same person, but everything else is..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Mallory interrupted. "Look, Bennish... what if I told you that I had proof of the existence of parallel worlds?"

"I'd say, you're full of it."

Quinn Mallory leaned back in his chair and slowly explained what had happened a few hours earlier. Condrad Bennish soaked it all in and hung on Mallory's every word. Finally, the story complete right down to the part where the sliders had gone in Mallory's place to the art show, Bennish leaned back and sighed. His face was blank and expressionless.

"Well?" Mallory inquired.

Bennish looked up at his friend. "Is this some kind of April fools joke or something?"

"Condrad, it's May."

"Hey, I wouldn't expect an April Fools joke this time of year! It'd be the perfect time to really..."

"Dammit, Bennish! This is serious!" Mallory yelled. "They want my help with the equations... they need my help! What am I supposed to say? 'Oh, sorry! But I didn't really come up with the anti-grav! It was MY Professor Arturo! I just stole the equations after he died of that heart attack.'"

"So they find out we're a buncha fakes!" Bennish said shrugging. "Who gives a rat's ass? They're going to slide away anyway!"

"Are they?" Mallory offered. "What if this is some kind of a... I don't know! Some kind of a trick to expose us?"

"An exact duplicate of you?" Bennish smirked. "Quinn, that's one hell of a hoax."

"You're right," Quinn admitted. "I guess I could just let the other me look over the equations and... hell, he can do all of the work. I'll make up some kind of excuse like, I have urgent business or something." He paused a moment and then picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Karl, it's Quinn. Bring up the safe."

Bennish checked his watch. It was 10:51.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"May I have this dance?" Quinn asked eloquently to Wade as music began to play thanks to a small orchestra which had filtered in.

"I... uh, can't dance the waltz," Wade admitted.

Quinn took her hand and pulled her towards the other passengers who had begun dancing. "It's easy. Here, just follow my lead."

Quinn led her through the steps and Wade, who was somewhat of a fast learner, soon was able to keep up with his without tripping over her own feet or stepping on his.

"You dance marvelously, my lady," Quinn said imitating a British accent.

"Why thank you sir," Wade answered back in the same accent. "I never liked these formal dances, you know. I like the kind you do in clubs and stuff like that."

"Why, Wade. I never figured you for a slam dancer."

Wade stepped on his foot. Quinn didn't know if it was an accident or if she did it purposely.

Wade looked back over at Arturo and Rembrandt and almost passed out. "Quinn, it's Bennish!"

"Bennish!?" Quinn said whirling Wade around to get a better look. He saw the alternate version of his old friend in faded denim shorts and a tie dyed T-shirt with a little fat cartoon character on the front with the caption "It's all a bunch of tree huggin' hippie crap" (an eyesore in a room of tuxedoes). He was talking and laughing with the other two sliders so Quinn led Wade off of the dance floor and they rushed over to met him.

"Hey!" Bennish exclaimed as he slapped Quinn on the shoulder. "Quinn sent me to get you guys. Well, you know... my Quinn. Not that he belongs to me or anything. Well, hell... you've gotta know what I'm taking about."

Quinn smiled and nodded. "Sure Bennish."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The lower decks of Titanic were usually deserted late at night since most of the crew tended to stay out of the more inaccessible and hard to get to areas of the ship. They didn't need to get to them if there wasn't a problem since computer diagnostics checked the hull integrity constantly.

However, this night, there where people in the lower foreword decks of the ship. Three people... two men and one women. If chief of security Zach Arnel had known that they were down there, he would have arrested them or shot them on sight. Not because of where they were... but because of who they were. Ricky Lane, Rhonda Wicks, and Cisco Phillips. All three of them were on the FBI's twenty most wanted list for various crimes including sabotage, murder, assassination, espionage, terrorism, and a few other things even the government didn't know about yet. Basically, they were hired guns... three people willing to do anything or kill anyone as long as the price was right. And on this occasion, the price was definitely right for they had been promised something better than money... they had been promised freedom.

All they had to do to get it was sink the Titanic and make it look like an accident.

"Is that the last of 'em?" Ricky whispered to two others as they attached explosives to the inside hull of the ship.

The young red-head looked over her shoulder. "Yeah," she called out.

"Make sure that they're spread out over more than six of the compartments. Otherwise, the ship won't sink and they'll know they were sabotaged."

Rhonda turned around and put her hands on her hips. "Dammit, do I look like an idiot to you, Ricky? Cisco and I attached these bombs to seven of the compartments because you keep reminding us every five minutes that the ship won't sink unless six of the watertight compartments are ruptured."

"Good," Ricky replied as he took up his position watching the entryway for any crewmen that might wander below decks.

"He's getting on my nerves," Cisco mumbled as he finished attaching the last explosive. "If you ask me, we're not getting paid enough for this crap." Cisco didn't really think they weren't getting paid enough... after all, they had been promised ten million dollars among other things.

"It's not the money I'm interested in," Rhonda answered. "It's getting the hell out of here and taking it easy for a while."

"You really believe that these people are gonna get us out of the United States?" Cisco asked her.

Rhonda shrugged. "It's worth a shot." She pulled Cisco to his feet and they both climbed the stairs and joined Ricky. "All right, Ricky. It's done."

Ricky grinned and motioned for them to follow. They walked up stairs and finally made it to an elevator. Ricky pulled a detonator out of his bag. "Time?" he asked.

"11:35" Cisco answered.

"Twenty five minutes," Ricky whispered. "And then... Boom! Glug, glug, glug."

Rhonda sighed. "That's nice, Rick."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the sliders arrived, the other Quinn Mallory was in the suite as was Wade Mallory and a tall older man who identified himself as Karl Lewis, Mallory's lawyer.

"I'm sorry," Mallory said putting on his jacket and heading for the door. "I have a meeting I cannot back out of. Bennish I need you to come too."

Bennish nodded and started to walk out with him.

"Wait a minute!" Quinn exclaimed. "Look, we slide in two and a half hours! We don't have time for this!"

Mallory took a piece of paper out of a safe and handed it to them. "These are all of my anti-grav equations. Look over them all you want. Mr. Lewis will be here with you and so will my wife."

And with that, he and Bennish left leaving the sliders and the two natives alone.

Arturo unfolded the paper that Mallory handed him and looked over it. "Hmmm... So that explains it."

"Explains what?" Rembrandt inquired. "Do you know how to fix the timer?"

"Not yet, Mr. Brown," Arturo answered. He then turned to Wade's double. "Mrs. Mallory. Am I correct in assuming that there is another version of me on this world?"

Wade Mallory nodded. "There was."

Arturo's brow creased. "Was?"

The other version of Wade shifted in her seat. "Er... He passed away about three years ago. Heart attack. He was Quinn's professor at the university."

"I see..." Arturo mumbled. "Mr. Mallory, may I speak to you in private, please?"

Arturo and Quinn walked out into the sunroom where they could converse. The professor held up the paper. "Mr. Mallory... Do you see anything odd about this equation?"

Quinn looked it over and cocked his head. "Not now, I'd need a few hours to go over it."

"Let me narrow things down for you," Arturo said pointing to a four digit number scribbled in the left corner. "This number."

"3453?" Quinn asked. "What about it?"

"This number, in no way, relates to the equation at all," Arturo revealed.

"So? Maybe it's a phone number or..."

"Mr. Mallory," Arturo said slowly. "This is the password to the facility copier at the university."

Quinn cocked his head. "How do you know that?"

Arturo gritted his teeth. "Because... it's my password."

"Yours?"

"Mine," Arturo confirmed. "This is it. Number for number."

"So what does it mean?" Quinn asked.

"What do you think it means, my boy?" the professor asked as he eyed the paper again. "Let's say that you are a struggling college student who happens upon the formula for anti-gravitation on the desk of a dead professor. You don't know exactly what the equation is... so you copy it down exactly as you found it in your own handwriting and give it to a team of experts. You take the credit and the next thing you know..."

"...you're rich!" Quinn said finally catching on to what Arturo was getting at. "You think my double stole this equation?"

"It makes perfect sense," the professor answered. "Your double has been reluctant to speak to us directly about the equation. He mysteriously disappears on business when he finally lets us look at the equation... business on a ship of relaxation, I might add."

"Professor, who cares?" Quinn quickly said. "I don't care if my double makes more money than Bill Gates off of this thing. I just want to get home and to hell with what happens on this world."

Arturo stared at him a moment and then nodded. "You're right, of course. What your double is doing is no concern of ours. We must focus on the task at hand... namely, fixing the circuits on the timer that allow us to activate the wormhole at will."

Quinn nodded and he and the professor went back into the suite.

"Problem?" Lewis asked.

"No, just a little misinterpretation with the numbers," the professor lied.

Then the ornamented clock on the fireplace mantle began to chime. "Wow," Rembrandt whispered. "Midnight already?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The stranger on the deck of the Titanic watched Quinn Mallory and Conrad Bennish, jr. emerge from a staircase. "No!" the stranger thought. "They have to be below decks!"

The stranger approached them and smiled. Bennish saw the stranger approach and began smiling back in his usual carefree way.

Mallory turned and faced the stranger. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes," the stranger said pulling out a gun and holding it to his stomach. "You can join me below deck."

The Titanic's horn blew in the background signaling that the midnight hour had come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ricky took a deep breath as he pulled the detonator's antenna out to it's full length. He checked his watch and looked at his partners. "Here we go folks. Three... two.. one..." And then he pressed the detonator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deep inside the Titanic, the explosives unleashed their destructive force against the steel hull of the ship ripping a large hole into the side of the front half of the ship.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The explosion was muffled by the bulk of the ship and the water surrounding the lower decks. As a matter of fact, on the bridge... it was barley a rumble. But it was enough to alert first officer Coffey that something was wrong. "What the hell was that?"

"I-I don't know sir," one of the bridge officers answered. "It felt like an impact. The transverse bulkheads have sealed, and the..."

"Impact?" Coffey echoed. "What the hell could impact us?"

"A... uh... Whale sir?"

Muffled laughter murmured among the officers.

Coffey was usually known as a jovial soul, but something in his gut told him that something as terribly terribly wrong. "Get an engineer down below and check for damage. Somebody call the captain."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The explosion was a bit more noticeable in the Mallory suite as it was a bit closer to the waterline. "What the devil was that?" Arturo asked as he steadied himself on a nearby wall.

"Feels like the ship hit something," Wade Mallory said taking another drink of alcohol. "Don't worry about it."

The sliders looked nervously at each other.

"Don't worry!" Wade Mallory said reassuringly. "This ship has the most capable crew on the ocean. They now how do deal with little problems like this. They know exactly what's going on!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What the hell is going on!?" Captain Hiller boomed as he entered the bridge putting his jacket on over his shoulders.

"Unknown sir," Coffey answered. "Possible impact on the starboard side. I've sent an engineer to..." He raised a finger to indicate that he was getting a report from below over his headset. "Yes, Stadi. What? Say again...?" Coffey listened carefully for a few seconds. "How many compartments?"

"What is it?" Hiller asked.

"Good lord," Coffey said to himself as he listened to the headset some more. "Can we pump the water out of the ship?" Coffey shot the captain a glance. "Okay... I'll consult the captain. Get your men out of there, chief." Coffey took off the headset and looked at Captain Hiller. "Captain, engineering reports that there is a twenty-five foot long tear in the hull below the waterline. We're taking on water."

"Pumps?" Hiller asked.

"They won't be enough," Coffey answered. "Sir, Titanic's going to sink."

There was an uncomfortable silence as the gravity of the current situation settled on the heads of the bridge officers. "Send out a general distress call," Hiller ordered.

"Sir, communications are still down," an ensign at the communications post answered.

Hiller muttered a curse and looked out across the bow of the ship. He couldn't imagine that the grandest boat on the water would soon go down.

"Sir, I think you should push the button." Coffey said.

Hiller looked at him and nodded slowly. Coffey never remembered the captain looking so shocked and helpless in his entire life. Hiller made his way to the command post and lifted a clear thick plastic lid revealing a large red button. After a small pause, he pressed it and all over the boat, emergency alarms went off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Now what?" Rembrandt moaned as the sounds of the emergency alarms filtered into the Mallory cabin.

"That sounds like some kind of an evacuation alarm," Arturo suggested. "Perhaps the jolt we felt was more serious than we..." The professor went silent as the door to the suite opened.

The other Quinn Mallory stood there with Bennish. Both were standing shoulder to shoulder and appeared white as ghosts.

"What's going on?" Lewis asked them. "Do you know what all these alarms are about?"

The other Quinn simply stared at Rembrandt and tried to say something but his words were strangled by fear.

Then both he and Bennish were shoved inside the room by someone standing behind them. The sliders took one look at the person and knew that matters had become infinitely more complicated.

"So," Logan Saint Claire said with a wicked smile crossing her face. "Long time no see, Quinn. Miss me?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When chief of Security, Zach Arnel, reported to the bridge, he was soaking wet head to toe and didn't seem very thrilled about it.

Captain Hiller shot him a look of confusion. Arnel smiled weakly, "I was on "G" deck checking things out. Steven, we're going down fast by the head. Me and two of my men were caught down there by the rising water."

"How long do we have?" Hiller asked.

"Two hours," Arnel answered. "At least according to Stadi. She's busy trying to get the engines running."

"What's wrong with the engines?" Coffey asked.

"Off-line. Some kind of a damned computer problem. Same with communications. We may be looking at some kind of sabotage."

"Computer virus?" Hiller asked.

"That would be my guess."

Coffey accessed a nearby computer and after a few moments of searching the files he looked up. "I'll be damned. There it is in the restricted memory."

"Can you remove it?" Hiller asked.

Coffey typed on the computer for a few minutes and then banged the side of it in frustration. "It's too deeply rooted in the system. Whoever put this thing in there as good. If I had six hours, I could..."

"We don't HAVE six hours!" Arnel reminded them. "In less than two, all of the computers are going to be on the bottom of the Pacific!"

"I know, Zach. I know." Hiller mumbled. He hated to admit defeat and he hated it even more that the ship of dreams was going to go down on his watch... but there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. It was time to admit defeat. "Zach, begin to load the lifeboats. It's time to get the passengers off the ship."

"Aye sir," Arnel said heading for the door.

Hiller sat down in the captain's chair and brushed a tuft of hair off of his forehead. He was damned glad he wasn't in the same position as the captain of Titanic's ill-fated sister ship, the Olympic. When that ship went down, it had barely enough lifeboats for half of the ship's compliment. Ever since that disaster, all vessels on the sea were required to hold enough lifeboats for every soul on board. Hiller took comfort in the fact that, pending no unforeseen difficulties, every man and woman on the ship would survive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quinn Mallory stared in disbelief at Logan Saint Claire as she pointed her gun at the entire group and dropped a small bag onto the floor. He knew that she would catch up to them sooner or later, but he could honestly say that she was the last person he expected to see today.

"Oh, don't look to shocked, Mallory," Logan said with a wry smile. "You know I have the ability to track wormholes. Well, I've been hunting all of you for a very long time."

Logan motioned with the gun for Quinn to sit on the floor by a ornate railing. "How'd you get on this ship?" Quinn asked her as he sat down.

"I have my means," she answered him as she fished a pair of handcuffs out of her bag. "Put these on him," she said to Wade Mallory who nodded and did as she was told. "Make sure they're tight."

Quinn winced as he was handcuffed to the railing. "What's going on, Logan? I have a pretty good idea you have something to do with it."

"The ship's sinking," Logan answered him. "I've made some new friends this past week." She threw Wade Mallory another pair of handcuffs and motioned for her to restrain the other Quinn Mallory. "These friends of mine were nice enough to arrange a little sabotage on this fancy boat. You know... viruses in the computer, bombs on the hull." She threw Wade Mallory another pair of handcuffs and motioned to Rembrandt. "That sort of thing."

"You're sinking the Titanic?" Wade said in disbelief. "Why?"

"Why ask why when how is so much more fun," Logan sighed. "You see, Wade. When this ship goes down in about two or so hours, it's going to take all of you with it."

"You sent us that phony brochure!" Wade surmised.

Logan grinned. "Sharp as ever."

"Such a complicated plot is hardly your forte, my dear," Arturo growled. "I know you want us dead, but I thought a bullet would be adequate to satisfy you."

"Normally yes," Logan said as wade Mallory handcuffed Arturo and Bennish. "But I was made an offer I simply couldn't refuse."

"What offer?" the other Quinn asked.

Wade Mallory and Karl Lewis joined Logan's side. Logan bowed slightly and motioned to them eloquently with a free hand. "No," the other Quinn's raspy voice called out as soon as he realized his wife had betrayed him.

"I told you I wasn't happy, Quinn." Wade Mallory said with a shrug. "Truth is, when Logan approached me a week ago, I would have never thought of me as the type to go and do something like this... but hey, I'm sure your millions will bring me comfort at night. And at the very least, I'll be rid of you."

"And what's in it for you?" Rembrandt asked Lewis.

"Far more money than Mr. Mallory ever paid me," Lewis answered. "All I had to do was forge a will that declared Mrs. Mallory the sole heir to Quinn's fortune pending his tragic death on the Titanic. Let's just say it's going to be awful hard to prove that any foul play was involved since we are over a four mile deep trench and no one will ever be able to reach your bodies."

"And you?" Arturo asked Logan. "What do you hope to gain by all of this?"

"Money," Logan frankly answered. "Unlike you, I've all but given up hope of getting home. I think I'll settle here and spend the rest of my days resting on a beach taking heart in the fact that I've gotten my revenge." She jingled the handcuff keys and put them in her pocket. "Oh, before I leave... I think I'll be taking your timer. Where is it?"

"Find it yourself," Quinn growled.

"We don't have time!" Wade Mallory said pulling Logan by the arm. "We have to get a lifeboat. They're not going anywhere."

"You're right," Logan mumbled. "I suppose I could just shoot them and put my mind at ease." She raised her arm and prepared to fire.

"No!" Lewis said. "You fire that gun and security will be all over this place!"

Logan glared at him for a moment and nodded. "You're right, Karl... I hear drowning is a much more horrible way to go." She saluted the sliders and headed out the door. "Until next time, guys!"

"This isn't over Logan!" Quinn yelled at her.

Logan's smile vanished and she and her two co-conspirators left the suite. She eyed Ricky, Rhonda, and Cisco who stood against the opposite wall. "You guys stay here and make sure they don't escape."

"We've kept up our end of the bargain, Miss Saint Claire, its time for you to deliver on yours," Ricky grumbled.

"I will," Logan said as she pulled her timer from her jacket pocket and checked the readout. "In ten hours, it'll be like you disappeared from the face of the Earth."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was an uneasy silence in the suite after Logan, Wade Mallory, and Karl Lewis left the room. The only noise was the evacuation sirens baring in the background. And then, the silence was replaced by the sound of Wade Welle's grunting. When Quinn, Rembrandt, Arturo, Bennish, and Quinn's double looked at her she was pulling at the cuffs and twisting her hand gingerly. Then, effortlessly, her hand slipped free.

"I love a woman with delicate wrists," Rembrandt chuckled. "Get the rest of us free, girl!"

Wade surveyed the room and blew through her teeth in frustration. "How?" she asked.

"Call a security officer." Arturo bellowed.

Wade started to yell something back at him until she realized that he was absolutely right. There was a literal boatload of crewmen that would be more than willing to help them and all she had to do was pick up a phone and call them. However, when she picked up the telephone receiver there was no dial tone. Just silence. "It's dead!" she announced. I'll be right back. I'll find someone myself!"

She jogged across the room and reached for the handle. "No!" Quinn yelled just before she flung the door open. "Logan couldn't have bombed this ship all by herself. She had to have had help. Check the peephole. If she thought ahead to cutting of the phone, she would have thought about guards too."

Wade peeked out of the small round window and spotted three people leaning against the opposite wall. All were unaware that she was free, mobile and spying on them. One of them shifted slightly and Wade could see that she was hiding a gun under her arm.

"Guys, we've got trouble," Wade cautioned as she backed away from the window. "Three goons out there with guns."

"Swell, never a Terminator around when you need one." Bennish said addressing Wade. "Babe, You wearing a hairpin of something?"

"No," Wade answered. "Why? Can you pick a lock?"

"No, but Quinn can," he answered. "How do you think we got the..." Bennish bit his lower lip and looked sheepishly at Quinn's double.

"...the formula for the anti-grav?" Arturo said finishing his sentence.

"You know?" Mallory said at last.

"Yeah, we kinda pieced it together," Quinn replied. "Now, can you pick the locks or what?"

"Yeah," the double answered. "Yeah, I can do it." He looked up at Wade motioned to his office with his head. "Upper left hand drawer of the desk. There's a black box... there's a bunch of small screwdrivers in it. Bring them here."

Wade nodded and disappeared inside Quinn's office. A few moments later, she reappeared with the small box Quinn was talking about. "Open it," he commanded.

Wade opened the box and Quinn's double took his free hand and took out the smallest screwdriver. He then inserted it into the keyhole of the handcuffs and began to work.

"So, you broke into my poor departed counterpart's office to steal his dream of an antigrav," Arturo mumbled. "That is truly despicable."

Quinn would've kicked the professor in the shins if he had been able to reach him.

"You don't know the whole story," Mallory said all while continuing to work on his handcuffs.

"We appear to have plenty of time for you to tell it to us, sir," Arturo answered.

Mallory sighed as he continued to try to pick the lock. "The professor Arturo of this world died of a heart attack just like we said he did. But, what you don't know is that Bennish and I were students of his."

Bennish nodded in agreement. "We helped him with a few of the equations. We didn't understand most of the complicated stuff that he worked on, but without us, he would have never solved the whole thing."

"When we finished, the professor refused to share credit with us," Mallory explained. "He was going to use OUR work to get rich and famous and there wasn't a damn thing we could do about it."

"So we your professor died, you and Bennish there decided to take what you thought was yours," Rembrandt concluded.

"Exactly," Mallory confirmed.

"It's still wrong," Wade said peering through the peephole at their guards. "You should have at least given your professor the credit he was due."

Mallory stopped working on the lock and looked at her. "We should have," he said softly. "If I had it all to do over again... I would have. That way I wouldn't have been feeling like such a poser these past few years."

He sat there for a few minutes contemplating what he had just said. It wasn't until Arturo cleared his throat and motioned to the handcuffs that Mallory got back to work on them.

Wade suddenly found herself bracing against the wall as the entire room was tilting slightly as the ship began to slip below the sea. "We're running out of time!" she said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hiller watched from the bridge as the stern of the Titanic sank below the water. "We're going down fast," he said stating the obvious.

"Captain!" Coffey yelled as he rushed back onto the bridge. "I've got communications back on-line."

"How?" Hiller said in shock. "I thought you said it'd take hours?"

"It would," Coffey answered. "I borrowed a satellite phone from Mr. Speilburg."

"Borrowed?" Hiller repeated.

Coffey shrugged, "Mr. Arnel tried to explain to him that he wasn't going to be able to take it on the lifeboat."

For the first time that night, Hiller smiled. "Call for help. Coast guard, Navy... whoever's closest. How's the evacuation going?"

"On schedule," Coffey reported. "Everyone should be off the boat in another forty-five minutes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Got it!" Mallory announced as the cuffs fell away from his hand.

"Man, that took a half an hour!" Rembrandt stated. "We've got an hour and fifteen minutes until we slide and probably less time until we go under."

Mallory started to work on Quinn's handcuffs. "Sorry, I don't pick locks for a living, you know. We've got to find a faster way of doing this."

"Get me uncuffed," Quinn replied. "I'll think of something."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mrs. Mallory," an officer at lifeboat station #12 exclaimed as he saw Wade Mallory, Karl Lewis, and Logan Saint Claire approach. "I'm glad to see you, we're one of the last boats left on the ship..." he looked at Logan and Lewis in confusion. "Where is your husband?"

"Oh," Wade said in a sad voice. "I haven't seen him in an hour!"

"Well, don't worry ma'am," the officer said placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Security is trained to sweep the ship in the event of an emergency like this. If he hasn't already taken a lifeboat, we'll find him."

"Yes, I'm sure you will," Wade Mallory grinned. "Thank you."

The officer helped all three get on board the lifeboat.

"I thought it was always 'women and children first'," Lewis said as he seated himself.

"We're an equal opportunity service sir," the crew man answered

After a few more people came aboard, the boat was lowered into the water and gently made it's way away from the sinking mammoth.

"You're good," Logan whispered to Wade commenting on her performance.

Wade Mallory sighed and smiled. "When you're married to a phony like Quinn Mallory, you pick up a few things."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cisco nervously watched as a few of the Titanic's well to do passengers walked past him wearing lifejackets. "Man, let's get the hell out of here. They're not going anywhere."

"Psycho chick said to stay here as long as we can," Ricky said stepping out of the way of a couple more evacuees. "And as much as she's paying, I'm going to. Besides... I've never seen a cruise ship sink before. Might be fun."

A few more people ran by being ushered down the corridor by a large uniformed man. The man stopped and stared at the three terrorists. "You shouldn't be here," the man told them. "Get to a lifeboat."

"We're... waiting for some friends," Rhonda quickly answered. "They told us they'd meet us here."

The man looked nervously down the corridor at the crowds of people scrambling out onto the deck. "Look," he said. "This ship is going down fast and I don't have time to mess with people like you. Get to a lifeboat. That is my final warning."

Rhonda nodded an acknowledgment and the man left.

Ricky yawned and stretched. "Look, I got to find the can."

"Now?" Rhonda asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Ricky answered. "I'll be back in a second." And with that, he walked slowly up the corridor and out of sight.

Rhonda shook her head and gritted her teeth. "I swear to god, Cisco... I hate that man."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quinn rubbed his wrist after his counterpart finally managed to pick the locks on his handcuffs. "Okay," he began as he peered through the peephole. "We've got to get the handcuffs off of everyone else quickly., otherwise we won't be able to get everyone free before the ship goes down."

"How, man!?" Bennish asked still handcuffed to the railing.

"Simple," Quinn answered. "We shoot them off."

"Shoot them off?" Wade echoed. "With what?" She then stopped in mid-sentence and her eyes went wide. "Quinn... I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."

"Sorry, Wade... but I'm thinking it."

"Wait," Mallory sighed as he walked into his office. There was a loud cracking sound and he reemerged with two wooden clubs... clubs that used to be the legs of a chair. "If we're going to do this, let's at least use our heads. I'll go out the other exit and distract them. You and Wade take them out."

"No," Wade protested. "I'll distract them. You and Quinn take them out. I won't be able to."

Mallory and Quinn nodded in agreement. "Be careful," Quinn whispered.

Wade smiled and went into the office and toward the other door.

"My boy, be careful," Arturo cautioned. "If you fail, we are all as good as dead."

Quinn didn't bother to respond as he turned back towards his double who gingerly unlocked the door. Mallory peeped back through the peephole to make sure that neither of the two guards had been alerted by the soft clicking of the tumblers. He looked through the office door at Wade who had done the same thing with her door. "Ready?" he whispered to her.

"Ready," she answered.

Wade took a deep breath, shut her eyes and opened the door.

"Hey!" Rhonda yelled as the other entrance to the Mallory suite popped open and Wade poked her head out. Rhonda and Cisco both raised their guns and fired in Wade's direction but not before she jumped backwards and back into the suite.

And then the door in front of them exploded and both Quinns tackled each one of the terrorists. Mallory grabbed at Rhonda's gun and managed to make her drop it by repeatedly hitting her hand against the wall. He threw her to the ground and smirked. "You fight pretty good for a woman."

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you!" Rhonda shrieked as she brought her foot up and kicked him in the stomach. Mallory went down and she jumped on him hitting him in the face furiously.

Quinn, in the meantime was still wrestling with Cisco. In the struggle, the gun went off twice before it tumbled to the ground. When he saw it was unnecessary to fight over the weapon anymore, Quinn landed a punch square into Cisco's jaw. The dark skinned mercenary shrugged it off and smiled. Cisco grabbed Quinn by the throat and pushed him forcefully against the opposite wall. It was then Quinn finally noticed that his feet were getting wet. Cisco had apparently noticed the same thing because he looked down at the floor then same time his opponent did.

They were standing in three inches of water. They both looked down the sloping hallway and saw the water was creeping foreword towards the Mallory suite. Arturo... Rembrant... Bennish... They were almost out of time.

And then there was a gunshot.

Rhonda stopped beating on Mallory and Cisco and Quinn's combat halted as well. All four of them looked in the direction of the gunshot and saw Wade Welles standing there with a gun aimed at them.

"Let... them... go..." she said menacingly.

Rhonda and Cisco complied and released their antagonists. "Good," Wade growled. "Now, get inside. Quinn, get the other gun. Where's the other guy?," She asked Cisco. "The guy with the gotee?"

Both Quinns bent down to get the gun. Mallory stood up and allowed Quinn to retrieve it.

"I don't know," Cisco responded. "Probably chickened out and caught a lifeboat.

They all re-entered the suite just as the water did.

"Oh, shit!" Bennish exclaimed as water began to pour into the room. "Get us out of these cuffs, man!"

Wade nodded aimed the gun at Bennish's cuffs. She closed her eyes, squeezed the trigger, and jumped when Bennish began to scream. 'Oh, god! I shot him!' She thought.

"Why are you screaming, you blithering idiot?" Arturo exploded.

Wade opened her eyes and saw that the handcuffs that Bennish was wearing had been severed by the bullet.

Bennish stopped screaming and opened one eye. "Dude, that was trippy!"

"Your turn, Remmy," Wade said as she took aim.

Rembrandt pulled on the cuffs as much as he could to give Wade as much margin for error as possible. "I trust you, girl." he said smiling.

She fired and cursed silently when she saw that she had missed the cuffs. "Do it again, come on Wade!"

Wade fired again and finally managed to hit the restraints. "Atta girl!" Rembrandt laughed as he stood up into the now ankle deep water.

"Anytime you are ready, child," Arturo said patiently as he jingled his cuffs.

Wade aimed and squeezed the trigger. Her heart sank when the only sound she heard was a soft click.

Rhonda and Cisco tried to rush foreword but Quinn immediately took aim with the gun he was carrying. "Don't!" he commanded. "He looked around a bit and pulled a stand up lamp away from the wall. He unplugged it and ripped the electrical cord out of it. "Quinn," he said to his double. "Tie them up."

Mallory complied and within a few moments, both of the terrorists were bound together in a very impressive knot.

"Mr. Mallory!" Arturo boomed as the water began lapping at his knees. "Will you please release me!?"

Quinn took aim at the cuffs and squeezed the trigger.

And nothing happened.

And then Rhonda stomped on Cisco's foot. "He held us up with an empty gun!? Aw, hell... Cisco!"

"Now what!?" Rembrandt said in a panic.

"Pick the lock!" Wade screamed at Mallory.

Mallory nodded and pulled out the small screwdriver he had put in his pocket a few minutes before. He inserted the instrument into the lock and began to manipulate the tumblers. "I don't know if I'll be able to pick the lock in time," he whispered.

"You are not inspiring my confidence in you Mr. Mallory." Arturo whispered back as the water rose over his stomach.

"I'll see if I can get some help," Rembrant said as he made his way to the door.

"Bennish, go with him," Mallory commanded.

"Gotcha boss," Bennish said as he and Rembrandt waded out into the hallway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yes... Yes... Thank you!" Coffey said as he put the satellite phone on the tilted desk. "That was..." he paused as the phone slid off the desk and hit the floor. "That was Admiral Decker of the Navy. The USS Lexington is on the way. ETA forty-five minutes."

"That's going to be cutting it close," Captain Hiller mumbled. "But it's better than nothing." He looked out upon the deck of the Titanic as it slowly became submerged. He shut his eyes and gave the most difficult order of his life. "All company... abandon ship." He walked along the bridge and patted each officer on the shoulder. "Watkins, Bell, Perry... get to the boats. There's nothing more you can do here. Everyone else... you've done an exemplary job. Now, get on a lifeboat and get the hell off this ship."

One by one, the bridge crew shuffled off of the bridge until Captain Hiller and Commander Coffey were left alone. "Thad, I was talking to you too," Hiller said.

Coffey took a couple of steps foreword. "You're not going to pull that 'captain goes down with his ship' crap on me, are you?"

Hiller turned to him and grinned. "Do I look stupid to you? No... I'm afraid the old girl is taking this trip alone." He slid his hands across the antique steering wheel. It wasn't used anymore... all of the ship's steering was controlled by computers. Yet, it was kept on board as a reminder of days gone by. "You know," Hiller said. "There were days I would've given anything to be off this ship and back on the bridge of the Northern Lights."

"I know," Coffey whispered. "You told every chance you got."

"Yeah... But you know what? I'm really going to miss this ship... a lot more than I thought I ever would." He patted the steering wheel and sighed. "Good-bye, Titanic... You deserved so much more than this."

Coffey stood there for a few minutes and then put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Andrew, it's time to go."

Hiller nodded and he and Coffey walked off the bridge. Hiller didn't look back. He couldn't look back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ricky as on his way back to the Mallory suite when he saw the water creeping up the corridor. He smirked and continued half expecting to meet Cisco and Rhonda before he got to where he had left them. Trudging along, the water got to his knees and then his waist. He soon began to believe that something was wrong... Cisco and Rhonda were crazy... but even they weren't crazy enough to keep guard in a submerged hallway.

The lights went out and Ricky stopped for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He heard splashing on the far end of the corridor and noticed two figures coming towards him. One had dark skin and the other had long hair. "Where the hell have you been?" Ricky yelled at them. "Come on, let's get on a lifeboat and go!"

The two figures stopped and looked at each other.

Ricky cocked his head as he became more adept at seeing in the darkness. "Rhonda... Cisco?"

The two figures quickly turned and began wading in the opposite direction. Ricky followed them in confusion.

When the lights came back on, he was momentarily blinded but quickly saw that the two people he thought were his partners were, in fact, two of the people who should be back in the suite drowning. "HEY!" he yelled as he pulled out his gun and fired a shot in their direction.

Rembrandt and Bennish ducked into the water to avoid being hit. The lights flickered again and Ricky ran as fast as he could towards them.

Bennish resurfaced a few feet from where Ricky had stopped. The terrorist spun around and prepared to shoot him but he was pulled under the water by Rembrandt. Ricky and Rembrandt fought for a few minutes. It was long enough for Bennish to run past them and up the corridor. The water became more shallow and Bennish was able to get on the deck. He looked around and was unable to find a lifeboat. All of them had been launched. He was in a panic and couldn't think straight, so he took the only option that seemed available to him at the time.

He ran and jumped off the side of the ship.

And hit the side of the lifeboat containing the surprised bridge crew. "Get him! Get him!" Coffey yelled as he watched Bennish sank into the water.

Arnel and another officer dove off of the lifeboat and hauled Bennish to the surface. Hiller and Coffey pulled him in and assessed his condition.

"He's unconscious but breathing," Coffey observed.

Hiller stared at the new passenger in disbelief. "That's... That's Condrad Bennish Jr. He came aboard with Quinn Mallory."

"What's was he doing still on the Titanic?" Arnel asked as he shook water out of his hair.

"I don't know," Hiller answered. "But I'm sure he'll have an interesting story to tell us when he wakes up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ricky dropped his gun and Rembrant took advantage of the loss of the weapon. He rammed the terrorist's head against the bulkhead making him loose consciousness momentarily. He propped Ricky up against the wall so he would not drown and made his way back down the corridor. As he neared the Mallory suite, the water was up to his mid-chest. "Guys, we've got a big problem!"

"I believe we are all aware of that, Mr. Brown!" Arturo yelled. He was standing in a bent over position waiting for Mallory to pick the lock to his handcuffs.

"No, you don't understand!" Rembrandt yelled pointing to Cisco and Rhonda. "Their friend is back! He's probably on his way here now!"

Mallory had to duck underneath the water, coming up every few seconds for a breath of air. "Almost got it!" He looked at Rembrandt. "Where's Bennish?"

"He ran for it, man," Rembrandt said. "He's probably on a lifeboat right now."

Mallory nodded, took a breath, and ducked under the water again.

"Quinn," Arturo said. "Take the others and get out of here. Don't stay for me."

"I'm not leaving you behind!" Quinn argued.

"Mr. Mallory, it could take your counterpart another thirty minutes to pick this lock by my estimation," Arturo countered. "This room will be filled with water in less than ten. I want you to go now!"

Quinn shook his head. "No!"

Arturo's face twisted in rage. He pointed at Quinn and shook his finger furiously. "You blithering idiot! If I had half I mind I would..." He stopped and stared at the handcuffs hanging off of his arm. "Ah...," he whispered. "Well, it appears to be a moot point now doesn't it."

Mallory wiped the salty water out of his eyes and grinned. "New record," he said gasping.

"Celebrate later," Wade said heading for the door. "Let's get out of here."

"What about them?" Rembrandt asked indicating the two terrorists in the corner.

"What about them?" Mallory asked sarcastically. "We're just doing to them what they were going to do to us. Let them drown!"

"No," Quinn interjected. "We're not judge, jury, or executioner. We take them with us."

No sooner had Quinn finished saying that he intended to take the terrorists with them when Rembrandt, who had been standing by the door awaiting any sign of the man he had dispatched earlier, was alerted by the sound of approaching splashing. "No time for that, Q-ball," he said with an air of urgency. "Our friend's friend is on his way! I'm sure they'd rather go with him than us."

"Point taken," Quinn agreed. "Let's get the hell off this boat!"

He started toward the door but was stopped by Wade. "Quinn! Where's the timer?"

He patted his jacket pocket. "I just made Logan think I hid it. Lucky for us she didn't bother to search us."

"Well done, my boy!" Arturo commended as he waded out into the corridor. The water was well up to his upper chest and getting deeper by the minute. As Quinn, Wade, Rembrandt, and the other Quinn joined him, he observed that the water got deeper down the hallway and the current was stronger. "We don't have much time left," he cautioned. "How much time is left until the slide?"

"Ten minutes, thirty seconds," Quinn answered. He spotted a floating zip lock bag floating nearby. He picked it up, shook all of the water out of it, placed the timer inside, and zipped it shut. He looked at the others and grinned. "Just in case!"

There was more splashing from the shallow end of the corridor. "He'll be here any second," Wade gasped staring down the hallway. "and that's the only way out!"

"What about the windows in the sunroom?" Rembrandt offered, "We can bust them out and get out that way."

Mallory shook his head. "They've got bars... besides, there's another way out. There's a crossover a few meters back that way." He pointed down to the deep and submerged corridor. "Feel like getting a little wet?"

"No," Wade answered. "But I'll go anyway."

The sliders waded down the corridor. It was a difficult journey as they had to fight both fear and the strong current. The water rose up to their necks and finally, they found themselves grabbing the fixtures on the ceiling in order to keep from being swept back the way they came. The mainframe iron structure of the Titanic groaned and shrieked in protest of the strain it was being subjected to. None of the sliders said anything to anyone as the eerie noises filled the hallway. Each time the ship groaned, the water they were in shuttered lightly. It was a very strange feeling.

Then there was another noise. It was louder and sounded closer. Then there was another just like it, except this time, the ceiling above them sparked and something ricocheted into the water.

Someone was shooting at them again. Quinn took a quick look back and saw a man wading into the water after him - obviously the terrorist that wasn't their when they had captured the other two. "Down!" Quinn screamed when the new mercenary took aim again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ricky took aim again and prepared to fire. The flickering lights and stress sounds from the sinking ship were interfering with his aim. Not to mention that he was scared to death... not that he'd ever admit that to anyone. He cursed silently as he saw his quarry's head's disappear underneath the water. And then he heard someone call his name.

"Ricky, dammit! get us out of here!" Rhonda screamed from the Mallory suite.

"Rhon?" Ricky called out in confusion as he pushed the door to the flooded Mallory suite open. "What the hell happened to you two?"

"They jumped us," Cisco explained as Ricky untied them. "Did you hit them?"

"You were shooting enough," Rhonda added.

"No," Ricky answered. "They ducked down the corridor and went underwater. Probably dead now. Drowned."

Cisco snatched the gun from Ricky and started down the hall. "Where the hell are you going?" Ricky asked.

"I'm gonna go find them," Cisco answered. "And if they ain't dead when I do... I'll finish the job."

Cisco disappeared into the water. Ricky took Rhonda by the arm and led her in the opposite direction. "W-What...? Where are we going Rick?"

"Topside," he answered. "Cisco's nuts. Those people have got to be dead by now and Cisco's gonna be dead right along with them. I personally don't want to be dead anytime soon."

Rhonda hesitated and looked square at him. "You're saying we just leave Cisco to die?"

"Ten million dollars splits better two ways than three!" Ricky exclaimed as he threw down her arm and made his way to the deck.

Rhonda had known Cisco for three years. Sure, he wasn't very bright and lord knows, with him action usually preceded thought. Hell, if he got himself killed it was his own fault.

She started to leave but then paused and looked back. Ten million does split better two ways than three. "Good-bye, Cisco" she sighed. And then Rhonda the terrorist left the Titanic and she would be the last living person to do so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quinn inhaled violently as he and the others surfaced in the partially submerged crossover hall. "Which way?" he asked his counterpart.

"Up ahead. Take a left," Mallory answered him as he pulled Wade towards the rest of the group. "Should be smooth sailing from then on out."

"Mr. Mallory," Arturo grumbled. "Could you please stow the naval terminology for another time?"

"Sure, skipper," Mallory answered.

There was another loud succession of bangs that made the entire group hold their breaths. "We need to get out of here fast!" Arturo cautioned. "When the Titanic went down on our world, it split in two. I think it's going to happen here also!"

"You mean the ship is going to break in two!?" Mallory repeated in disbelief.

"It's a possibility, Mr. Mallory, nothing more," Arturo said. "But regardless, we must leave now!"

They made their way to another hallway that was not nearly as submerged as the one outside the Mallory suite and took the left that Quinn's counterpart had advised. They started to make their way up the hallway. Literally... "up" since the deck was now at such a steep slope, they all had to hold onto the handrails to keep their balance.

And then, after a dew minutes of climbing, something struck the wall by Rembrandt. He yelped in surprise and fell backwards. Only the arm of Maxamillion Arturo kept him from tumbling backwards into the water. The professor glanced over his shoulder and spotted one of the terrorist's coming out of the crossover.

"These guys just can't quit!" Wade yelled as she kicked open a door and motioned for the others to get in the room. No sooner had the professor leaped in than another bullet ricocheted by.

The sliders fell against the wall and stared at the room they had taken shelter in. Pots and pans hung awkwardly from hooks hanging from the ceiling and the polished metal surfaces of the tabletops reflected their exhausted and terrified expressions. "Ship's galley," Arturo surmised.

"Now what?" Rembrandt asked.

"Search for anything," Quinn answered. "A gun... some kind of a weapon. Anything!"

The sliders and the counterpart searched frantically through the room. All while the terrorist slowly made his way towards them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ricky pulled Rhonda backwards as a half a dozen deck chairs toppled down the deck towards the ocean. They looked frantically around for an available lifeboat and mumbled the same curse when they spotted the lights from all of them in the distance with a great naval battleship in the middle of them.

"Now what?" Rhonda asked.

Before Ricky could answer a loud bang reverberated though the wooden deck below them. The electricity went out and the ship went dark. They both turned to the sinking half of the ship and watched in horror as the deck literally began splintering and exploding. Metal began to tear and bend under the stress of the sinking. The Titanic's superstructure began to collapse.

Ricky and Rhonda looked at each other and without saying a word, leaped into the water just as the Titanic's bow broke away and crashed back into the water.

Rhonda resurfaced and watched as the bow crashed a mere twenty feet away. The impact kicked up a huge wave that swept them both back and then foreword again into the hard steel hull of the sinking ship.

Ricky pushed himself away from the Titanic and watched as it slowly rose back out of the water.

"Holy shit," Rhonda whispered.

"I think we'd better make like a samon and swim like hell," Ricky yelled.

Rhonda winced at the joke but followed the advice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fifteen seconds earlier...

Rembrandt grabbed Quinn by the shirt and pulled him off balance just as a large butcher knife toppled from one of the hooks and embedded itself in the wall where Quinn had been standing. "Thanks, Remmy," Quinn said in a high register.

Wade pulled the butcher knife out of the wall and held it up. "Think this'll work?" she asked wondering if they could fend off the gunman with it.

"Drop the knife," Cisco's voice yelled out as he pulled himself into the doorway. "Or I blow pretty boy's head off."

Wade dropped the knife and backed away.

"Good," Cisco said. "Nice knowing y'all."

He then pointed the gun at Quinn and got ready to shoot.

And then all hell broke loose.

The lights went out and the ship lurched violently and everyone in the room experienced a second or two of weightlessness as the bow of the Titanic broke away from the rest of the ship and splashed back into the sea.

The pans and pots and knives and other utensils that was piled against the wall clattered back into the room. It was pure blind luck that nobody in the room was impaled by the dozen knives that clattered around them. Quinn and Cisco tumbled out into the hallway both dazed by the unexpected calamity. Faint emergency lights flashed on illuminating the hallway.

Rembrandt wiped his forehead and grimaced a bit when he noticed his fingers where covered in blood from a cut above his eye.

Then there was a loud and prolonged groaning sound and the room began to tilt again. Every little thing in the room that had clattered against the floor began to tumble against the wall. The heavy pots and pans began to drop from their hooks and Rembrandt shielded Wade with his body.

In the meantime, Quinn drug himself to the door of the galley and barley managed to grab the doorframe before the ship's stern began to tilt at a ninety degree angle.

Quinn soon found himself hanging from the door. The long hallway had just become a fatal drop... a bubbling mass of water and twisted metal awaiting at the bottom.

Mallory looked out of the doorway down at him and grabbed his arm. "Pull yourself up!"

Quinn felt something grab his leg and when he looked down he saw the man who, just moments ago, tried to kill them. He was hanging onto the railing for dear life trying to pull himself up to safety. Quinn looked back up at his counterpart who knew exactly what he was thinking. "Professor! Rembrandt! Help me!" Mallory yelled out.

Arturo and Rembrandt soon appeared in the doorway over the drop and helped grab onto Quinn's arm.

Quinn extended his free hand to the terrorist. "Give me your hand!" he yelled.

Cisco grunted as he tried to pull himself up... but the exhaustion and fear finally caught up to him and he just quit. The sliders could only watch as Cisco dropped into the bubbling water at the bottom of the upturned hallway.

Rembrandt, Mallory, and Arturo wasted no time pulling Quinn into the Galley. They stood up on the wall and nervously looked at each other. They felt a strange weightless sensation in their stomachs as the Titanic resumed her decent into the Pacific.

"We're not going to be able to get out, are we?" Wade finally asked.

"Maybe we won't have to!" Quinn realized. "The gateway opens in two minutes and forty seconds. If we can find an air pocket or something, maybe we'll be okay!"

"Air pocket," Mallory repeated. "I don't know where we can find one.

"Galley's have walk in refrigerators!" Rembrandt exclaimed. "At least the galleys on the navy ships I used to be stationed on did. They're going to be the closest thing to watertight you'll find on this barge!"

Arturo looked straight up. "There!" he announced pointing at a crome plated door. "Question is, how do we get up there?"

Water began to rush into the door. Within seconds, it was rising rapidly above their waists and propelling them towards the higher wall. "This is how we get up there!" Quinn screamed over the roar.

Before they knew it, they were touching the higher wall. Rembrandt struggled with the refrigerator door and finally managed to get it open. He pulled Wade towards him and helped her get inside. Before he could get anyone else inside, he was underwater. He finally got into the refrigerator himself hoping that Mallory, Quinn, and the professor could find the entrance themselves. It was freezing inside to say the least and the water rising through the open door wasn't helping.

Soon, Quinn and his double emerged from the opening. Quinn stuck his hand into the opening and helped pull the professor out of the water. He then ducked below the surface again and after a few seconds, he reemerged. "Door's closed," he announced.

Quinn stood up and flipped the timer open and dimly illuminated the dark room with the red LED display. "Two minutes," Quinn gasped. "There's not a lot of air in here."

Suddenly, a jet of water erupted from the floor as the outside pressure of the water began to force it's way through the submerged cracks of the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jesus Christ! Look at that!" one of the passengers on lifeboat #34 exclaimed as Rhonda and Ricky were pulled on board.

The bow of the Titanic was pointing straight up into the air and sinking straight down into the ocean. Spotlights from the USS Lexington illuminated the ship as it descended into the sea.

Ricky couldn't help but smile to himself. Ten million dollars... and a place to get away from the authorities if that Logan Saint Claire woman kept her promise.

Titanic was claimed by the dark ocean and disappeared beneath the waves. After the sea calmed it was as if nothing had happened... the only evidence of the sunken liner were the floating deck chairs and furniture bobbing in the still waters of the Pacific Ocean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air inside the refrigerator compressed and squeezed at the sliders lungs as the outside pressure increased exponentially as the Titanic slid deeper into the ocean. Quinn took the timer out of the zip lock bag and held it up. Their shelter only had to hold for another sixty seconds.

The water was up around their necks now and it felt as if their entire bodies were being squeezed in vices. Soon, Quinn discovered that he was unable to even breathe anymore. Their air had run out and all he could do was shut his eyes, mouth, and bear the pain until the timer hit zero.

The pressure was so intense, it felt as if they were going to be crushed before they drowned.

The timer beeped and without opening his eyes, Quinn activated the wormhole. Through his eyelids, he could see the radiant blue of the vortex... but only for a few microseconds as the pressure in the refrigerator found a way to escape... Through the wormhole taking all of the trapped sliders with it.

Quinn, Wade, Rembrandt, Arturo, and Mallory, along with thousands of gallons of seawater were pushed through the interdimensional gateway at an impossible rate of speed. Quinn held onto the timer as tight as he could. Finally, all of the sliders splashed into the warm waters of the Pacific.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Waterspout off the port bow!" A crewman on the oil tanker Valdez yelled out.

"Waterspout?" the captain repeated as he raised his binoculars and looked out across the dark ocean.

There it was as plain as day. A bright blue light over a column of water... it was like a giant water faucet hanging over the ocean.

"What the hell kind of a waterspout is that?" another crewman remarked.

The blue light snapped out of existence and was replaced by the faint cries of help.

"There's somebody down there!" the captain exclaimed. He rang a bell and yelled to the crewmen on decks. "Man overboard! Man overboard!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The captain handed Wade Welles a hot cup of coffee. "We're headed to San Francisco," he answered. "Why do you ask?"

Wade shook her head as she took a sip. "That's where we need to go," she answered. "Thanks for the coffee."

The captain glanced over at the two identical men standing on deck talking to each other.

"So," he said to Rembrandt. "How did you guys get way out here in the ocean? What happened to your ship?"

Rembrandt looked at Arturo and shrugged. "It sank."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I never really thought about it while we were on the ship," Mallory mumbled. "Sliding... I mean. You know, it was just a convenient way of surviving. But... I'm never able to go back to my world, am I?"

Quinn shook his head. "I'm sorry... It was either bring you with us or let you drown."

"I know," Mallory admitted. "Still, I've left behind an awful lot. A wife who wanted me dead... a public who wouldn't leave me a moments peace... millions of dollars that weren't rightfully mine." He paused a moment and looked up at the stars. "I haven't felt this good in three years!"

Quinn smiled and smacked him on the back. "So, what are you gonna do now? You can always come with us."

"Naw," Mallory said dismissively. "I think I'll put down roots here. Maybe I'll try my hand at writing... I always thought I'd make a good writer. You ever feel the same?"Quinn shook his head. "Not really... Still, I've met all sorts of versions of me. Freedom fighters... Sorcerers... women."

"Women?" Mallory asked.

Quinn decided not to explain about Logan. "Forget it. Anyway, I think that you'll make a hell of a writer. And at least this time, you'll be earning your money honestly."

Mallory agreed. "Maybe I'll write about you guys. You think anyone will want to read about Quinn Mallory and the Sliders?"

Quinn laughed a bit. "Depends on how good of a writer you are."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunrise greeted the USS Lexington as it delivered the Titanic survivors back to San Francisco. The news was reported by CNN, MSNBC, Headline News, and even Comedy Central's Daily Show. The world's most luxurious and exclusive liner, the RMS Titanic, had sunk and multimillionaire Quinn Mallory had gone down with it.

Wade Mallory, the widow, was giving her testimony to police as Logan Saint Claire looked on from the shadows. Karl Lewis was standing nearby trying to suppress a smile during the somber affair. Just as a habit, Logan picked up her timer to see how long it would be before her next slide... not that he was going to be taking it. No, she was going to settle here and spend the rest of her days in luxury.

When she examined the readout, her jaw dropped open in disbelief. It was reading a wormhole... Quinn's wormhole. "That son of a bitch!" she grumbled to herself. "How many lives does that bastard have!?"

She looked up at Wade Mallory and decided to dismiss the whole affair... Let Quinn and his friends get away! Why the hell should she care? Let them have a one way ticket to nowhere... She'd take a fortune over that existence any day.

And then there was a ruckus and then the captain of the ill-fated Titanic, Andrew Hiller; the ship's first officer, Thad Coffey; Security Chief, Zach Arnel; and the bandaged business partner of the late Quinn Mallory, Conrad Bennish, Jr., emerged from the crowd and made their way towards Wade.

"Arrest that woman!" Hiller ordered. "The lawyer too!"

The policemen obliged and grabbed Wade by the arms. "What the..!?" she exclaimed. "What is this!? On what charge are you arresting me!?"

Arnel stepped foreword. "Conspiracy... Sabotage... Attempted murder... Murder..."

"You have no proof," Wade sneered.

"We have an eyewitness," Coffey said motioning to Bennish. "And we have two terrorists who were pulled into a lifeboat filled with Mr. Arnel's security personnel." He pointed to a nearby police car where Rhonda and Ricky were being loaded onto. They were both handcuffed and arguing among themselves. "They've given us full confessions Mrs. Mallory."

"I'll be sure to ask the warden to give you a first class suite," Hiller hissed. "Get her the hell out of my sight!"

"Wait," Wade yelled. "There was another woman! Logan Saint Claire! She's over there! If you're taking me, you've got to take her too!"

Arnel saw the brunette woman take off down an alley and he took off after her. However, when he reached the alley he was greeted by a strange swirling red mass. The woman stood in front of it and smiled over her shoulder at them.

"What the hell is that!?" Coffey exclaimed as he caught up with him.

"I have no idea!" Arnel said.

Captain Hiller arrived next and watched in amazement as the red vortex grew.

Logan Saint Claire turned towards them. "Sorry about your ship, captain. No hard feeling....'kay?"

And then she jumped backwards and the red vortex snapped shut leaving the three officers staring at an empty alley.

"Did you see that?" Coffey whispered. "I mean, I'm not going crazy, am I?"

"I didn't see anything," Arnel remarked.

"Me neither," Hiller whispered. "Thad?"

Thad Coffey sighed and shook his head. "Woman? What woman?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Did you catch her?" Bennish asked the Titanic officers when they rejoined him.

"Catch who?" Hiller asked.

"Logan!" Bennish exclaimed. "The psycho hose beast who tried to kill us!"

The officers looked at each other. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bennish... but it appears she's gotten away."

They walked past him without saying another word and Bennish was left alone on the docks. He looked out over the sea and thought about his friend and the sliders. He didn't know if they were alive or dead and not knowing was worse to him than having a dead body lying at his feet.

More than likely, Quinn's family would be inheriting his money. He hoped that David Mallory... Mrs. Mallory and Colin would be able to find happiness in it... and he still had his fame. Maybe he'd accept that FOX sit-com he had been offered. It might keep him busy for a few weeks.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see a bearded man in his fifties standing there grinning. He was wearing a life vest and was obviously one of the Titanic passengers. "Conrad Bennish?" the man asked.

"Uh-huh?" Bennish answered.

"My name's James Cameron... I'm a filmmaker," the man explained. "This whole experience has been quite exciting and I am playing with the idea of making a movie about it. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind telling me exactly what happened to you during the sinking."

Bennish looked at the man with an amused expression. "Why make a movie about the Titanic?" he asked. "Everyone knows that it's gonna sink at the end! Who'd wanna pay and see that!?"

Bennish laughed to himself and walked away leaving the confused filmmaker staring after him on the dock.

THe eND