Firstly, as far as I can think there are no spoilers at all in this story. This probably occurs sometime in the second season, but it doesn't matter much!
Secondly: The following story is intended for entertainment purposes only. This document can be freely distributed with the condition that no part of the text is modified, and this notice is included with all copies.
Some characters and elements of this story are the property of St Clare
Entertainment/Sci Fi Channel and are used without authorization. No copyright
infringement is intended. The author receives no compensation from the
distribution of this work. Any comments or criticism would be welcome.
"Don't you think that landing felt a little weird?"
"Sure, Remmy." Quinn dusted himself off, checking for any injuries.
"No really," Rembrandt insisted.
"He could be right, Mr. Mallory. I failed to receive a single injury," the Professor observed.
The four of them began to look around properly.
"Well, it looks OK," Wade announced, already off exploring.
The others followed her, hoping she was headed for the hotel, and some much needed rest. Quinn checked the timer as they went. They had just over two days.
"Food or rest?" inquired the Professor.
"Foo-est!" they all responded simultaneously.
The Professor laughed, "well OK. How about Mr. Mallory and myself seek out some food, while you two book us into the hotel?"
Wade nodded.
"Agreed, Professor," smiled Remmy.
The Professor turned to Quinn.
Quinn shrugged, "sure, why not."
Wade was happily relaxing reading a book, and Remmy was lightly sleeping, when Quinn and the Professor returned with the evening's sustenance.
"Quinn! What happened to you?" Wade rushed up to him, staring at his face. "Professor! What's going on?"
The two of them looked at her strangely, apparently they had yet to notice. Rembrandt sat up, suddenly awake again with the noise of their return.
"Is food here then? What's all that noise about gi..." Rembrandt's jaw dropped as he saw the others. "Q-ball, what happened?"
"Kindly explain yourselves," growled the Professor, losing patience.
Wade shrugged, "Go look in the mirror."
Alarmed, Quinn and the Professor did as she suggested. Each of them had apparently aged around 20 years, yet as far as they could tell the effects were only visual.
All through dinner, Remmy couldn't help but keep staring at the Professor and Quinn. "How're we going to get you guys back to normal? You can't stay like that forever."
"Unfortunately, Mr. Brown, I have no idea. I suggest some research into
this world will turn up some form of solution," the Professor stated
hopefully. He certainly didn't want to remain an old man for the rest of
his life, and the effects that were originally only visual were beginning to
take actual hold on his limbs.
Wade finished her dinner quickly, and went to switch on the television.
"Well, I'm starting now, we can't leave you two in that state!"
Remmy chuckled. "How about a game of chess, Professor? Take your mind off it for a while. We've got a couple of days here, so there's plenty of time for this tomorrow, when you're not as tired."
"A fine plan, Mr. Brown. I suggest tomorrow you and I seek out the library and endeavour to find any information available which could reverse our condition. We can leave those two to find any doubles who might be able to help." The Professor eased himself into a chair opposite Rembrandt.
"And any trouble they might be able to find," grinned Rembrandt, throwing a sideways glance at Wade to see if she had noticed. Fortunately she was too engrossed in the TV.
For the first time ever, Rembrandt beat the Professor at chess. Remmy couldn't help but gloat a little. "Professor, I do believe I'm wearing you down. This time next week I'll be thrashing you regularly," Remmy laughed.
"You beat him?" asked Wade. "Wow." She patted Rembrandt on the back. "Care to take me on, Professor?"
"I think I shall retire hurt, Miss Wells. Perhaps tomorrow. For the moment I have to admit I am feeling alarmingly fatigued." The Professor yawned loudly.
"We're all tired, Professor. Let's get some sleep," agreed Quinn.
"Goodnight everyone," yawned the Professor, again.
At 3am, the Professor awoke unexpectedly. He lay in bed listening to the noises of the others sleeping for several minutes, then he felt an incredible cramp in his chest. He began to breathe in short raspy breaths, and the pain in his chest became unbearable. As he thought he could no longer stand the pain, he passed out. Suddenly it was as if he was floating above himself and the others. He looked down, and could clearly see each of them sleeping, including himself. Then he realised what had happened.
"Good lord. I'm dead!" The Professor couldn't help but express his surprise to himself, as if that would add some element of realism to his surroundings. Nothing changed. For several minutes he floated above his body, as if waiting for something to happen. Then, suddenly he was back in his body and the pain had gone. Relieved, but puzzled, the Professor got out of bed and went over to the window. He looked at the stars for several minutes savouring the opportunity, he had thought perhaps he had lost his last chance. After what he could only assume was a heart attack, the Professor felt fine. In fact he felt fitter than he had all evening.
After his narrow escape from death, the Professor was tempted to go outside and run around shouting his relief to the rest of the world. But he looked at the others, still asleep, and decided they probably weren't ready for any revelations he had about death. Particularly if they started worrying about it all the time... The Professor realised what telling them might do, and chose not to. Laughing at himself a little, he instead climbed back into bed and lay there staring at the ceiling for a while just thinking. He thought perhaps he ought to be worried that it might occur again, but somehow he felt sure that it was all over for now, so he drifted into a relaxed and dreamless sleep.
Quinn woke early the next morning. As he got out of bed he realised that he didn't feel nearly as old as he had the previous evening. Initially he thought it was simply tiredness, the rest had obviously made him feel better, but looking in the mirror he realised that he had apparently partially returned to his own age. The face in the mirror now looked to be in his early thirties.
He wondered if perhaps last night's strange effects gradually reversed themselves, but then he noticed Wade and Remmy. Rembrandt now appeared younger than Quinn and Wade was now a child of perhaps 12 or 13.
"Wade," he whispered to her, trying to wake her quietly. "Wade!"
She stirred in her sleep, still half dreaming. "Dad?"
Quinn's heart sank a little. Perhaps he shouldn't have tried to wake her. Then Wade woke fully.
"Who're you? What am I doing here?" Wade looked alarmed. "Where is this?" In panic, suddenly surrounded by unfamiliar things, she shot out of bed and was halfway out of the door before Quinn caught her.
"Shhh, Wade." He tried to calm her.
She relaxed slightly, but she was obviously still afraid, and now she looked so tiny.
"How do you know my name?" Wade asked, her usual curiousity kicking in, as for the moment she could see no other course of action.
"I'm your friend, Wade. I have been for ages, one of your best friends. You have to remember me," Quinn whispered.
Wade looked sceptical, but seeing little alternative she allowed him to continue.
"Come on, I'll buy you breakfast," Quinn smiled.
Looking up at him, Wade decided that for the moment it would be quite safe to trust this man. So the two of them left the hotel, leaving the Professor and Rembrandt still sleeping.
"Man, that must've been a good night. I don't remember anything about this place!" Rembrandt stretched and yawned. Then he saw the Professor. "Aaaaaagh!"
The Professor woke with a start to see Rembrandt hurriedly dressing, and muttering to himself.
"What are you doing, Mr. Brown?" He groaned, his back still ached. "Wait! Where are you going? There's work to be done here," he shouted.
But Rembrandt ignored him. Apparently he was trying to pretend that one or the other of them didn't exist. "It's just a dream, a damn convincing one, but it's just a dream," Remmy chanted to himself. "No, forget that, it's a nightmare. Best just to get home, hope no one finds out."
Rembrandt finished dressing and shot out of the door before the Professor could think of anything to say.
The Professor felt much better than he had the previous evening, but he was still in no condition to go chasing after Rembrandt, and he still had to find out what on earth was going on. So he set about his task as he had intended, and left for the library.
Quinn desperately wished he had known Wade when she was originally this age. He knew he had to persuade her to go along with him, but with no real frame of reference he had no idea how to go about it. So he was incredibly nice to her. Even so, every now and then she would get a little suspicious and decide to leave. In a public place, he couldn't just grab her. As Wade sat drinking the largest chocolate milkshake Quinn had been able to afford, Quinn rested his head in his hands, frantically trying to think of a way round the problem. Then he considered her sense of adventure. He bet that hadn't changed. If anything she was more likely to go along with him in her present state.
"Wade. I know you don't remember me, but there's this weird aging thing on this world, and we have to visit my double and find out what's going on."
"Sure. You think I'm stupid or something?"
"Not up for the adventure then? Willing to miss out on something like this? What've you got to lose if you're wrong?"
"You could be a psycho. Mum and Dad are always going on about them. How else did I wake up in a hotel room with you?"
Quinn thought fast. "Look, you always wanted an adventure, so they arranged one for you. Not the same if it isn't a surprise! But they'll be so disappointed if you don't find out what's going on." Quinn paused for breath, watching her reaction. "And think of the stories you could tell you friends," he added.
For one nervous minute, Quinn thought she might try to go back home. Certainly she was highly suspicious of him. But then he saw the Wade he knew kick in.
"Right. When do we go?" She stood up, and remained shorter than Quinn while he was still seated.
Grinning triumphantly, Quinn took her hand and led her back onto the street thoroughly embarrassing Wade, who removed her hand at the first opportunity.
Rembrandt was seriously confused. He went home, fully expecting his Mum to be about ready to murder him, or at least call the police, only to discover that his parents weren't home and apparently hadn't been home for some time. And the streets all looked slightly wrong, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He sat on the lawn of his parents' home until a complete stranger arrived and asked him to get off her property. Rembrandt backed off hurriedly, back to the centre of San Francisco.
Frustrated by the poor condition of his body, the Professor nonetheless managed to find the public library and set about his investigations. The deduction wasn't difficult, although more detailed scientific information was proving very difficult to come by. This world had mysterious pockets of what could only, loosely, be described as time. And these pockets could age people forwards or backwards at a certain rate. The Professor glanced down at his uncooperative fingers, hoping that there was some way to reverse the effects. Further enquiries showed that reversing the effects required you to find a reversed time pocket, which was about as reliable as predicting the weather. It also showed that memory could be affected without the use of a suitable time stabiliser.
"That explains Rembrandt at least," he muttered to himself, and set off in search of four time stabilisers.
The walk to Quinn's house was a long one, but Quinn had no money left for a taxi, and Wade was unlikely to give him any in her present condition. Unfortunately, Wade was also tiring, although as yet she wouldn't admit it. Looking down at her, Quinn felt relieved that his body had remained relatively unchanged.
Finally they arrived at his double's house. Quinn knocked on the door, praying that the changes in him were minor enough that it would still be obvious who he was.
"Quinn." Quinn greeted his local double.
His double nodded silently.
"I'm you from a parallel earth." He had to admit, as explanations went, this wasn't his most eloquent.
"Oh?" His double looked at him, "So you've been sliding and you came here?"
Quinn relaxed, assuming his double was also a Slider. "Yes, but we got caught in some weird time distortion that made me older, and her young."
"What!" cried Wade.
"Shh." Quinn tried to quieten her.
"Quickly, come inside, there's another downdraft. You're getting younger again!" His double grabbed Wade and withdrew a small button-like object from his pocket which he pressed against her skin. "It's a bad one!" Quinn's double frantically rushed down to the basement, and emerged with another of the button-like objects, which he pressed onto Quinn's wrist.
"That was close," the other Quinn remarked. "A good job you got here when you did, she could've been a baby!"
Quinn turned to look at Wade. She had shrunk further, he estimated her age was now approximately six years old.
"Can you reverse it?" Quinn worried. "Will she be OK?"
"Hey! I can speak for myself you know." Wade punched Quinn on the leg.
"Wade! You're back to normal."
His double nodded, "Yes, the stabiliser will bring her mind into sync, and protect her body. But it cannot reverse the effects of those downdrafts she experienced."
"What!" Quinn and Wade cried in unison.
Wade looked down at what remained of her body, acutely aware of how small it seemed.
"Don't panic," Quinn's double smiled. "I have an idea how to reverse the effects. But you're Sliders, you must have so much to tell us." Quinn's double looked excited. "I met a Slider once before you see. I thought that was amazing, but twice!"
"You don't Slide then?" Quinn was disappointed.
"No, I'm not a physics student. I stuck to pure maths. Less experimenting I'm afraid, but a fascinating area of study. You should try it some time, Quinn. It might even help with some of your theories. Have you ever studied monoids?"
Quinn sighed; his double's enthusiasm was no match for a Quinn with intimate knowledge of Sliding. There was no time to study the potential of abstract algebra on this Slide. Pushing down his disappointment at another missed opportunity to get home, Quinn smiled. "Well thanks for the help. For these I mean." Quinn held out his arm. "If there's anything we can do in return."
His double smiled back. "It's nice to know that my doubles are getting along so well. And Wade too!"
Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Wade?"
A double of Wade appeared from the shadows, shaking his hand firmly. Then she saw her own double and smiled.
"Don't worry, it should be quite simple to fix that. My Quinn keeps those charts lying around for months!" She told Wade.
Watching the time to ensure that they made their 4 o'clock rendezvous with the Professor and Remmy, Quinn sat down with his and Wade's doubles. They talked about some of the worlds they'd visited, and of the worlds the previous Quinn to visit this world had told the local Quinn of. Wade herself remained unusually quiet. Suddenly she felt like a little girl surrounded by grown-ups talking, especially if she heard her own voice. Disturbed by this, she tried to hang back, out of the way, until Quinn noticed and sat her on his knee, trying to reassure her. It worked in some ways, but in others it only served to increase Wade's awareness of her situation.
"How do I get back to normal?" Wade suddenly blurted out, interrupting the flow of conversation.
Quinn's double turned to her. "Well it's risky, certainly not guaranteed. You could start getting younger if it goes really wrong. But I've downloaded tonight and tomorrow's disturbances already. If you go to one marked higher at the appropriate time, you should take off your stabiliser and allow someone to monitor you until you're the right age."
Wade nodded. "Seems reasonable, what's the problem?"
Quinn's double explained the problem, "There's only one problem. These things aren't 100% reliable. It a lot like predicting the weather, even a local map like this could be a little bit wrong."
Quinn started wondering again what could've caused this. He found it strange that his counterpart should genuinely have no idea. There wasn't even an official story from the government, only some silly rumours, such as large numbers of undetected black holes too close to the earth. It was frustrating to have such an intriguing scientific mystery to solve, and no opportunity to solve it.
The Professor successfully located what appeared to be a "downdraft" and before going to meet Quinn and Wade managed to return his own age to what appeared to be normal. He had erred a little on the side of losing a couple of years, if only so that he might be able to escape more quickly the next time someone started chasing them. Feeling very self-satisfied, he replaced his stabiliser and set off to meet the others in the park. He prayed that Quinn and Wade wouldn't be late. They had much work ahead of them if they were going to find Rembrandt and return him to normal in time for the Slide.
Quinn and Wade were late, of course. They ended up running through the streets near the park, praying that the Professor wouldn't lose patience and leave without them. Wade was practically flying as Quinn pulled her along.
"Good heavens, Miss Wells, what the devil happened to you?" The Professor roared, trying to conceal his amusement.
Wade smiled, it was relief to be treated normally again. She could tell that Quinn was having a hard time with it, she'd caught him several times behaving more like her babysitter than someone equal to her in age. He was bad enough for worrying about her under normal circumstances.
"Hi, Professor. Where's Rembrandt?" Wade called.
"Ah, there lies our little problem, Miss Wells. It seems that the strange time effects on this world, for which I have incidentally found no explanation, caused Mr. Brown to lose his memory. As a result he rushed out of our hotel room before I had the opportunity to explain."
Quinn tried to imagine what had happened, remembering a similar scene with Wade that morning. He chuckled quietly.
"It is no laughing matter, Mr. Mallory. The man has no idea where he is, and he believes that I was his latest drunken conquest!" The Professor couldn't resist a slight smile.
"Where do we look?" Wade looked round, half hoping that Remmy would appear around the corner, everything remembered. He failed to do so.
"I suggest we split up and search for him," said the Professor. "That way we increase our chances of success. It should be quite safe now that we have our stabilisers."
"Right, where are you going to take?" asked Wade.
"Wait a second!" Quinn interrupted the proceedings. "You can't wander off by yourself in the middle of the city."
Wade glared at him. "I won't get lost."
"We have no idea what sort of world this is," spluttered Quinn, "and no one would ever let you in a bar in that state."
The Professor eyed Wade's small body, which was currently seething, and tried not to laugh. "Perhaps Mr. Mallory is right. It isn't normal for a child of your apparent age to be seen at night. It definitely won't allow anonymity." He came to his former student's rescue.
Wade was about to retort when she decided to concede gracefully for once. Even under normal circumstances she might have thought twice about wandering round the city alone at night.
The Professor nodded. "Yes, you two cover all the people he might visit, anyone you can think of from Mr. Brown's past, anyone in his family. I shall take the nightclubs. Judging by his reaction this morning, I'd say Mr. Brown was a frequent attendee of such places." The Professor braced himself.
Their strategy agreed, the three of them set off on their search, intending to meet back at the hotel the following day, or when they found Rembrandt. The Professor quickly located a guide to the great nightlife of San Francisco and began his quest, praying that he hadn't started too early. Stopping for a brief meal, the Professor made a plan of action for the evening. He planned to cover as many bars and nightclubs as possible, particularly those with live music advertised. As he ate, the Professor made a mental note to pay more attention to Rembrandt's stories the next time he had the opportunity.
It was then that an idea struck him. Their Rembrandt was now essentially living ten years or so in his own past, a time in which the Professor knew he had been frequently touring, although the Professor wasn't sure whether he would still have been with the Spinning Topps by then. But he may even have been famous enough for people to take note of where he regularly went. Smiling to himself, the Professor set off with renewed purpose.
Quinn continued to find this tiny version of Wade difficult to get used to. He knew in his head that she was the same Wade he had always known, but he still found it difficult not to treat her like a small child. Wade was beginning to lose patience.
"Quinn, where do you think we should start? Can you find Remmy's parents in the phone book?" Wade stood outside the phone booth, wondering what could possibly be taking the guy so long.
"There's too many Browns to just guess, it is quite a common name. I don't know which part of town Remmy was from." Quinn sighed, exasperated to be stopped at their first hurdle.
"Let me look!" Wade grew tired of waiting for Quinn. She squeezed through the door of the phone booth and grabbed the directory from him, nearly dropping it in the process. She tore out the relevant page, and dragging Quinn behind her said, "Let's try these."
Quinn smiled. Once again he was reminded that this really was Wade.
Still confused by his parents' apparent disappearance, Remmy had decided to look for his friends, the other guys in the Spinning Topps for a start. He amended his plan quickly, remembering a series of confrontations with Maurice. He would try to find the other members of the Topps, but not Maurice. He shuddered at the recollection. "Still, in a weird place like this, even finding Maurice might be a blessing," Remmy muttered to himself, wondering once again where his parents might have gone. He felt as though he'd been his on the head and was still wandering round in some sort of dream state. He tried pinching himself roughly, but it made no difference. Sighing, he set off in search of his friends. By the evening, tired and footsore, he had established that they had apparently all disappeared. Alternatively, he was losing his mind, it was difficult to decide which. Either way, a drink was definitely in order, so he set off to his favourite bar, hoping to meet someone familiar, or perhaps someone new.
Quinn and Wade were already tired of their assignment. They had knocked at the doors of umpteen Mr. or Mrs. Browns and found no trace at all of Rembrandt. Finally, they reached the last house in the area.
"Hello, Mrs. Brown? I'm Quinn Mallory, and this is Wade Wells. We were wondering if you have a son called Rembrandt? He's a friend of ours you see, but we've lost touch with him."
Mrs. Brown smiled, "Come on in. Any friend of my Rembrandt's is welcome here. You two look exhausted, let me get you a drink and some biscuits. Sit down, sit down, make yourselves comfortable." She looked up at Quinn. "Coffee, dear?"
Quinn failed to refuse quickly enough, trying to think of a polite way to decline.
Mrs. Brown bent down to talk to Wade. "How about an orange juice? Or maybe a lemonade?"
Wade smiled as sweetly as she could, under the circumstances, she knew Mrs. Brown meant no harm.
"Ah." Mrs. Brown beamed at Quinn, "Is she a bit shy?"
Quinn tried not to laugh. "Yeah, she's always a bit quiet round strangers." Quinn prayed that Wade would forgive him later.
Mrs. Brown continued talking to them from the kitchen. "You know I haven't seen my Rembrandt for quite a while! You might have trouble finding him before Christmas. He went east on his latest tour a couple of months ago., and he seems to be visiting everywhere! He's doing so well."
Quinn and Wade looked at one another. At least if Remmy was famous here they might have a fighting chance of him being recognised, and tracking him down.
"Actually, Mrs. Brown..." Quinn began.
"Call me Rosie, dear," she interrupted, bringing in the coffee and a number of biscuits.
"... we .err.. wondered if you could tell us anything about Rembrandt's old friends. Where we could find them, that sort of thing." Thinking of how ravenous he was, Quinn dared not resist the offer of biscuits.
Mrs. Brown turned out to be enormously helpful, but incredibly long-winded. She obviously didn't have company very often, and she enjoyed every minute of it. Quinn didn't like to guess where Remmy's Dad might be. As Mrs. Brown reeled off a string of addresses, Quinn tried to take notes, hoping that the information would provide a few clues.
By the time Mrs. Brown stopped talking, Quinn was falling asleep in the comfortable surroundings. Wade had long since succumbed, her body no longer capable of sustaining such long periods of wakefulness, or the exertion.
Fortunately, Wade sleeping gave Quinn the perfect excuse to leave. He carefully picked her up off the chair, praying she wouldn't awake before they had left the house, and carried her outside, waving his thanks to Mrs. Brown. When Mrs. Brown had returned indoors, Quinn gently shook Wade awake, thankful that the disturbance hadn't woken her and caused her to say something controversial to Rembrandt's Mum.
"Did I doze off? Sorry," Wade grinned sheepishly as Quinn released her. "She was really nice, but I was so tired."
"It's OK, I took notes. Besides, in your current state you can hardly expect to stay awake. It's way past your bedtime." Quinn dodged as Wade reached out to punch him playfully.
"So where's our next call?"
"I'm not sure we can just turn up on someone else's doorstep now. It's getting pretty late for normal people. Maybe we should check out some bars instead."
"You're forgetting something, Quinn," Wade pointed out. "They're never going to let me in, no way."
Finally Quinn gave way, he couldn't resist laughing. It was really odd, this copy of Wade in a child's body. It was five minutes before he could speak coherently, and Wade standing beside him looking indignant did nothing to help.
"Give me that chart, Quinn. I have to get back to normal as soon as possible. There's no way I can look for Remmy like this anymore." Wade held out her hand.
His fits of laughter subsiding, Quinn managed to find the chart and by the light of a nearby street lamp, they poured over it. There was nothing. The only updraft before they were due to Slide was late the following afternoon. In fact it was really somewhat closer to their departure than they would've liked. Wade was stuck as she was for the moment, she groaned loudly.
"Well, you'd better go and get some sleep then. I'll carry on looking, you're dead on your feet as it is." Quinn nudged her gently. "Come on, like you said, you can't look for Remmy in that condition."
Wade frowned. "I can't just give up and leave it to you. You might miss something vital without me to help you. We'll just have to think of a way."
The Professor was enjoying little success. He had found a number of establishments, some of which even advertised that they were the birthplace of the Spinning Topps, although he failed to see how that could be true of all of them, but he had seen no sign of Rembrandt. Apparently this world was too dissimilar. He was just buying yet another drink in order to talk to yet another bartender when he spotted Rembrandt with a young lady. He moved over to try and speak to him, surprised to realise just how difficult it was becoming to think coherently. He made a mental note not to order anything alcoholic the next time he had to search all of San Francisco's bars for one of the group.
Rembrandt noticed the Professor advancing on him and recognised him from that morning.
"Aaagh! Let's get out of here, girl. I think I've got a crazed fan following me," Rembrandt whispered to his companion.
The girl gave Rembrandt a warm smile, obviously impressed. She then turned and gave the Professor a disgusted look as Rembrandt pushed her out of the door.
"Stay away from me, Grandpa," Rembrandt addressed the Professor directly, before following the girl out.
"Drat." The Professor tried to decide whether or not he would get arrested if he persisted in following. He watched them run, and instead of following, made a note of their heading. Then he headed back to the hotel, hoping to find Quinn and Wade.
Luckily, Quinn and Wade reached the hotel soon after him, intending to catch a brief pause and devise some sort of plan. Quinn had to admit that the only plan he had was to wait for Wade to fall asleep again then leave by himself, something she would never forgive him for. So he was relieved to see the Professor already there, thinking that meant he'd already found Rembrandt.
"How's Remmy, Professor?" Quinn asked.
"Unfortunately, I have no idea. He ran away from me as soon as he saw me." The Professor sighed.
"He did? Why?" Wade asked, puzzled.
"Because, my dear child, he thought I was a crazed fan of his, and I didn't fit into his concept of attractive," the Professor rumbled.
Wade chuckled at the mental picture he created. "I see," she said. She considered for a moment, a plan rapidly forming in her mind. "I could find him and ask him for an autograph."
Quinn smiled. "That wouldn't give you time to explain anything, Wade. That'd never work."
"No, but it'd give me time to stick one of these on him." She held up her arm displaying the stabiliser clearly. "If we can get hold of another, that is," she added.
"Excellent. My dear girl, that is a most cunning plan." The Professor produced several stabilisers. "And I believe I have the equipment at hand!"
"So all we have to do now is find him," concluded Quinn, "And keep you out of sight, Professor."
They were all suddenly alert again. They stood a chance of saving Rembrandt. Wade fingered the spare stabiliser in her pocket, along with the notebook and pen Quinn had given her for the autograph. The quickly reached the street where the Professor had last seen Remmy, and Quinn took back his notebook for a moment to flick through the notes from his conversation with Mrs. Brown. He was so engrossed he nearly fell over several obstructions in his path as they went, including Wade.
"Keep your eye on the road, Mr. Mallory!"
"Yeah, watch who you're stepping on, or I'll find a way to make you small," complained Wade.
Quinn grinned, "Sorry. It was worth it though." He paused to wait for the others to listen to him. "I think I might know where he's gone if you were right about his heading, Professor."
"Where?" The Professor and Wade asked in unison.
"This bar right here." Quinn pointed to his diagram.
"She gave you directions?" Wade couldn't believe it.
"Well, while some of us were sleeping, others were paying attention." Quinn laughed as Wade glared up at him.
"One the other hand, my boy, we have arrived. Without any need for your directions!" The Professor pointed to a bar on the opposite side of the road.
Quinn shrugged, and the three of them walked across and into the bar. Wade did her best to remain unnoticed, hiding behind the others.
"Can you see him yet?" she whispered from behind Quinn.
"No, not yet," Quinn replied.
"Wait, Mr. Mallory, I see him. To your left." The Professor hurriedly moved outside, out of sight.
"OK, Wade. Now's your chance."
As boldly as possible, as she wasn't even supposed to be in the bar, Wade marched over to Rembrandt.
"Excuse me, can I have your autograph?" Wade got Rembrandt's attention.
Rembrandt smiled hugely when he saw her. He'd always liked children, and was more than happy to grant her request.
"Who's it to, girl?" He asked.
"Wade," she replied, still finding it strange that he didn't know her. As Remmy began to write, she grabbed hold of his wrist, and pressed the stabiliser into place.
"She your..." Rembrandt began to ask Quinn, who had slowly followed Wade over. Then his memories began to return.
"Q-ball! Wade?" Rembrandt couldn't believe his eyes. "What happened to you, girl?" He thought further. "What happened to me?"
Before Quinn had chance to explain, the barman appeared to complain about Wade's presence.
"What's that kid doing in here at this time? You know it's not allowed, drinking or otherwise. You could get me in real trouble, get out of here! Now!"
Quinn nodded apologetically to the barman. "C'mon Remmy," he mumbled, and pulled Wade out of the bar.
Remmy politely left the woman he was with, and followed Quinn out.
"Professor! Oh man, I'm sorry." Rembrandt tried not to laugh, remembering how he had treated the Professor.
"That's quite alright, Mr. Brown," the Professor looked relieved. "I'm simply happy to have reacquired your company."
"Thank you, Professor," grinned Remmy. "What now? Out on the town?"
"Back to the hotel I think." Quinn nodded down at Wade, who pretended not to notice.
The next morning they all slept in late. By the time any of them awoke, it was way past breakfast time, so instead they all went out for brunch.
Fully fed and rested, an hour later the four of them were left to casually make their way to the location of the updraft.
"Do you want to get older again, Remmy?" Asked Wade. "You're alright as you are now aren't you?"
"You know I never thought I'd say this, girl, but I just don't suit being this young anymore. I have to put myself right. I think we should both make the most of this while we have it though," he added.
"Have what? I'm just shorter than normal, and more clumsy!" Wade replied.
"There must be something you can do now, that you won't be able to do when you get back to normal again. You've only got a few hours, forget about trying to prove you're still Wade, try being a kid again for a bit."
Wade considered carefully. Remmy was right of course, as usual. "In that case I think I'll have to start off by going on some swings. Race you to the park!" She set off running before anyone had the chance to argue, Rembrandt followed her down the street.
Quinn and the Professor had been engrossed in discussing the possible causes of this strange world, when Quinn looked up to see Wade and Rembrandt disappearing down the road. He turned back to the Professor, trying to get his mind back in gear.
The Professor followed Quinn's gaze down the road. "Go on, boy. Join in the fun, we can discuss this some other time."
"Well come on then Professor. Don't think you get out of it that easily." Quinn beckoned to him before sprinting down the road after the others.
The Professor rolled his eyes and followed them at a more sedate pace. By the time he reached the park and found the others, Wade was hanging upside down from the top of a climbing frame.
"This is great! Come and try it, Quinn," she called. "Remmy?"
Quinn and Rembrandt exchanged looks before Quinn replied. "I think we may be a bit big. Maybe we'll just sit this one out, eh, Crying Man?"
Remmy chuckled and nodded, still watching Wade.
"Aw, no excuse. How about a seesaw then?" Wade rushed to the seesaw, allowing Remmy to join her on one side and Quinn to take the other.
By the time they were due to leave, Wade was exhausted, but a little disappointed to be about to grow up again. She'd forgotten how much fun being small could be.
It was time for the updraft. Praying that the predictions his double had provided were accurate enough, Quinn carefully removed Wade's stabiliser. He held her arm tightly to ensure that she didn't run off because of the initial memory loss, and they waited.
The Professor patted Rembrandt on the back. "It's time, Mr. Brown." Remmy nodded, and looked him in the eye. He removed his stabiliser.
The updraft began, slowly at first, but gaining strength. Quinn was so transfixed by Wade's gradual transformation back to her old self that he scarcely heard the timer beep.
The Professor opened the vortex. "Mr. Mallory! You can't leave it any longer," the Professor shouted against the noise of the vortex. Then he jumped into the vortex after Rembrandt, and was gone.
Quinn turned back to Wade to see how close to her normal self she was. She didn't look quite right, but she was close. Quinn decided he'd just have to risk that she wouldn't lose a couple of years permanently, they had no time left. As the vortex began to fold, Quinn grabbed Wade's hand and dived in, pulling her behind him.
Their landing was as spectacular as ever. By the time Quinn hit the ground, the Professor was already engrossed in an argument with Rembrandt over the correct Sliding posture. Quinn laughed to himself, relieved to see a little normality. Then he turned to Wade. She appeared unharmed, but a little confused. He began to fish around in his pocket for his stabiliser, which he had just removed.
"Quinn?" Wade looked a little dazed.
"Yeah?" Quinn looked into her eyes, trying to determine just how much she remembered. "Do you remember what happened?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Wade looked puzzled. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"What's the last thing you remember?" Quinn began to worry.
"Well, the last Slide. Nothing happened really, it was too short. I'm not sure there was anything worth remembering," Wade replied, still puzzled.
Quinn thought back two days, and began to laugh, making Wade feel slightly uncomfortable. "You forgot exactly one Slide. A few seconds longer and you'd have been fine!"
"So what happened?" asked Wade, growing impatient.
Quinn smiled at her, and, pulling her to her feet, turned to the
Professor. "So, where do we start?"
