Message-Id: <199308241441.AA08298@dirt.cisco.com> Date: Tue, 24 Aug 93 09:43:39 CDT From: Gina Goff Subject: "Afterimage", part 9 "Afterimage" by Gina Goff Part Nine Sam hurt, and he couldn't seem to breathe properly, and there was blood everywhere. "Sam! Are you all right?" Al walked through the crowd of children gathering around him and knelt on the ground. "Ruthie. How's Ruthie?" "She's fine, Sam. How are you?" "Maxine?" Admiral Calavicci elbowed his way through the crowd. "Oh..." He reached for a loud handkerchief and pressed it firmly against Sam's arm. Sam looked down and realized that all the blood was coming from a cut at his left elbow. "You're going to be okay, honey." "Sam, are you all right?" Al repeated. "Just had the wind knocked out of me," he answered, as Admiral Calavicci turned to his other daughter. "Ruthie, are you hurt?" "No, Daddy," she answered, but she seemed shaken and pale. "Sit down, Ruthie, before you faint," said Beth as she came up to them. "What is it?" she asked her husband. "A bad cut. I don't think anything's broken. You look." They traded places. As he straightened, he caught sight of Michael trying to sneak away. "Oh no, you don't," he said, grabbing the boy's arm. "You're not going anywhere. I saw you push her down." "That's it! Go get him!" said Al. "It was an accident," Michael said nervously. "No, it wasn't," Ruthie and Al said simultaneously. "Al, she needs stitches," said Beth. "Well you got the `stitches' part right, try working on the gender next," said Al. "I'll take you to the hospital," said Admiral Calavicci. "No," said Beth. "I can take care of it. You stay here and settle this." "Sam." "Keep your voice down, I'm supposed to be taking a nap." "Beth can't hear me." "No, but it's easier for me to be quiet if you're quiet, too. And the last thing I need right now is another scolding. Why haven't I leaped, Al?" "What do you mean, why haven't you leaped, you're not finished here. You've still got to save you." "I know that, but I don't see how I'm going to do that as Maxine. We've already had ample evidence that nobody listens to her." "So you think you're gonna leap into someone else to finish this one. Who? It can't be you. Well, maybe it could. If we had the younger Sam in the Waiting Room for a couple of weeks, we could get him rested up and I could work on him." "Al, if the other you can't convince him to take it easy *here*, why do you think your luck will be any better in the Waiting Room?" "Well, I know exactly what's at stake. And I'm more experienced. All I really have to do is outstubborn him. And let me tell you, having Maxine as a teenager has taught me... oh, a whole lot about being stubborn." "That can't be it. He'd learn too much about the Project." "Yeah, and he'd forget it as soon as he leaped back. Who else would you leap into? It can't be me, because of Maxine." "What about Donna?" "Oh, that could be interesting. How would you like to be your own wife? You'd find out what sort of kisser you really are." "Al, can't you ever think about anything except sex?" "Yeah, when there's a reason to..." Al punched some buttons on the handlink. "Oh, this won't work, Sam. You can't leap." "Why not?" Al gestured at Sam's stitches. "Maxine doesn't have a cut on her arm..." "No. Oh, no." "So Ziggy thinks you'll have to stay here until that heals." "I can't. I won't. You don't know what it's like, Al. I'm sick of Barbie and these ridiculous clothes and being asked ten times a day if I need to go potty. I want out of here." "Sam..." Al began, but Sam deliberately turned his back on him and stared out the window. "I know this hasn't been easy for you, but..." "He's home." "What?" "Your alter ego just pulled into the driveway." Sam stepped back abruptly from the window, looking mildly apprehensive. "He saw me. He's got that look on his face." "What look? Is he angry?" Sam shook his head. "It's not your `I'm really steamed' look, it's that little smile you get on your face... right before you disembowel someone. He thinks I'm Maxine. He doesn't know I saved Ruthie's life, all he knows is that I ran away from Beth. Oh, boy, he's really going to chew me out." Al stared at Sam in amused surprise. "You're afraid of him. You're afraid of *me*." "I'm not afraid of him. It's just that you can be very unpleasant to be around when you're angry. You'd better go." "Why?" "Because I'd rather not be humiliated in front of an audience. Do you mind?" "Sam, you've just given me a great idea." "What? Al... " Al made a shushing gesture and pointed at the bedroom door. Sam saw the door opening and gave Al a quick, panicky glance. "I'll be back later. Don't worry, kid, I haven't killed you yet." Al stepped through the Imaging Chamber door and disappeared. With a sigh of resignation, Sam turned back to face Admiral Calavicci.