Date: Sun, 1 Dec 1996 14:56:07 -0700 (MST) From: Cathy Laughlin Subject: He also Serves 3 Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII He Also Serves, part 3 Al walked with Sam for nearly an hour, telling one of his old astronaut stories. For an instant Sam felt truly at ease, and forgot about the Leap and all its problems. In that one moment, Sam was home, regardless of how many years stood between him and his Project. As they walked the first small flakes of snow began to fall. This brought Sam back to reality fast. "How long do we have before the real storm hits, Al?" Sam asked, concerned. Al checked with Ziggy, giving the small, temperamental handlink a good whack, just in case. "About three hours," he replied. "I'd better go and get some work done back at the Project. Remember, when the storm hits, _don't_ leave the trail, not for _anything_." Al waved his cigar at the trail as he spoke. "Just buckle down and try to ride it out. I promise I'll be here, OK?" Sam smiled at his friend. "Thanks Al," he said softly. Al smiled back, opened the Imaging Chamber door, and departed, leaving Sam alone in the deepening snow. Sam turned and began to trudge up the trail. It seemed to him that he hiked for hours. *How much time do I have left?* he wondered. *It's just so cold. What am I going to do?* Up here the air was thin, and Sam's lungs had to work harder to breathe. The backpack was beginning to feel like a lead weight at his back, and each step turned his legs to Jello. Sam continued to climb, urged onward by the thought of safety at the top. The wind began to howl, and snow filled the air until Sam could barely see. He pulled his jacket close. Sam's hands and feet were totally numb, and he could no longer feel his face. Sam didn't know where the trail was anymore, and he had lost the backpack somewhere behind him. He fell to the ground in a heap, and curled into a ball to try and get warm. Snow covered his shivering body, blanketing him in freezing cold. *I'm so sorry, Al,* he thought, disoriented. *I'm sorry I didn't make it home.* He wasn't angry at his friend for not showing up before the storm; Sam knew by now that something must have happened to Al. Sam felt tired; too tired to move or even to think. The only thing he wanted was to rest, but he was too tired to close his eyes. Sam lay buried in the deep snow, his senses slowly fading. As the numbness worked its way through his body, Dr. Sam Beckett realized he was dying. Once Al Calavicci "returned" to the Project, he went to his office once more, trying to make some sort of progress with his desk work. He sat signing papers for nearly an hour, carefully going over every detail of each memo and report. It was nearly time for Wietzman's yearly visit, and Al wanted everything to be perfect. He had even ordered an in-depth diagnostic of Ziggy's programs, to be sure she would be ready. *There,* he thought. *This is the last one. After I finish reading this I'd better go see how Sam's doing.* Al read the paper slowly, searching for errors. About halfway through there was a knock at the office door. "Who is it?" Al asked, using his best, most imposing "Admiral Voice." "It's me, sir, Gooshie." "All right, come in," Al growled. He assumed something had gone wrong with the diagnostic, and he was completely unprepared for what happened next. The door opened and Gooshie walked through, carrying a large handgun. Al stared, completely frozen, as Gooshie lifted the gun and pointed it at the Admiral's head. *I don't believe it,* Al thought, stunned. *After all I've been through, this is the end.* Al couldn't move at all- he seemed to be rooted to his chair. Gooshie smiled a wicked smile, the kind of smile Al never thought he'd see on the programmer's usually nervous face. "Your dear Dr. Beckett isn't here to save you now, Admiral," he sneered. Gooshie fired twice, but Al didn't feel a thing; the first shot took most of his head off, killing him instantly. It took four Marine guards to bring Gooshie down, and he managed to kill two of them before he finally died. Al Calavicci's death was the end of Project Quantum Leap. All funding was stopped a week after his funeral. Back on the mountain, Sam huddled in the snow, waiting to die. He didn't care about living anymore- all he wanted to do was rest. His vision was filled with white, and it seemed to him that there was nothing else in the world beyond the falling snow. Suddenly a figure entered his line of sight. Sam stared, wondering if he was becoming delusional in his last moments. Before him stood an angel. She was tall, with curly dark hair and dark eyes that reminded him of Al. The angel wore a steel-grey dress and a darker grey coat that seemed far too light for the weather around them. Sam wasn't quite sure how he knew she was an angel, but there was no doubt in his heart. The angel crouched next to him and touched his face gently. "You're cold," she said softly. "Here, this will help." The angel took off her coat and wrapped it around his shoulders. The moment it touched him Sam's chilled body filled with warmth; it reminded him of the fireplace back at his family's farm, when he was small. "Thank you," he said humbly. "You saved my life." The angel smiled and sat down in the snow beside him. "Don't mention it, Sam," the angel replied. "You aren't meant to die here. Your friend needs you." Sam gaped at her; she knew his real name! It had been ages since anyone other than Al had called him that. "How do you know my name?" he asked, puzzled. "And how do you know about Al? I'm the only one who can see him." "I don't know everything about him, or about you either," the angel said. "But I do know that he needs you. Al has been killed," she said quietly. Sam sat staring at her, stunned, as the terrible truth worked its way into his heart. *Al's gone,* he thought, disbelieving. *I never got to tell him goodbye. Oh, God- he died, and I won't even be there at his funeral.* Sam buried his face in his hands, sobbing. He thought of Al, dying alone, and he hated himself for Leaping and abandoning his partner, who had been abandoned so many times before. *Oh Al, please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you.* The angel put her arms around Sam and held him close. Somehow her touch helped to sooth Sam's pain, but he wondered if he would ever truly feel whole again. Well, there it is, part 3. The others are on the way! ************************************************ * "Make the most of the Indian Hemp seed, sow it * everywhere!"- George Washington * * Free Kaneh Bosm-the world's safest medicine! * Cathy Laughlin: Hempster@nmt.edu * http://www.nmt.edu/~hempster ************************************************