From: aa811@cleveland.freenet.edu (Terri M. Librande) Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative Subject: No Escape From Reality Part 15 Date: 1 May 1993 17:08:06 GMT Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio (USA) Lines: 131 Message-Id: <1ruapm$a93@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu> Nntp-Posting-Host: slc5.ins.cwru.edu What with all that's gone on this week, I'm sorry it took me a while to post this.... Part 15 "I don't like this, Sam." "Do I have much of a choice?" The physicist glanced from his friend's face to Guinan's. She'd honestly explained the situation to him, and he understood. The implant couldn't be disrupted; it had to go. He knew the design; remembered enough to know that there was no way to block the signal, that it's removal was imperitive. "If it's any consolation, I've been told it won't hurt a bit, or impair me in any way. I won't even need to be put out. "That innate curiousity of yours," Al said affectionately, not quite hiding the apprehension in his voice. "It's going to get you killed some day." "Not now." The pain in his head made it difficult to speak, and with every rise and fall of the deck from the displacement it seemed to grow worse. "you go now." Sam glanced over at the doctor, waiting patiently by the door. "It won't take long, and I know how squeamish you are around surgery." He smiled at Guinan. "I trust you to take care of him." "No problem, Sam." She smoothly took the Admiral's arm and drew him away from his friend, and out of the Sickbay. "First things first. You need a change of clothes." "You got a tailor shop on this thing? I don't buy off the rack, you know." "I can believe it," she said drily, taking in the loud colors he wore. Al glanced back once at the Sickbay doors, torn between going back to stay at Sam's side or go off with Guinan as the kid had ordered. "He'll be fine." She smiled at the Admiral, immediately taking his arm warmly. "I promised you a drink, remember?" ****************** They returned to Deck Ten, called Sickbay to inform them of Al's whereabouts, and Guinan sat the man at the bar. "Now," she said, in her best bartender voice. "What's your poisen?" "Surprise me." "You never tell me something like that, Al. I have every drink know to man and alien. We'd better stick to something you know--like scotch and water." "How did you know..." Al was thunderstruck. "A lucky guess," she quickly interjected. "You make quite a few of those, lady." Al leaned over the bar, eyes narrowing. "I'm damned curious about who the hell you are." "I'm a person that fixes things, when I can. You'll have to trust me, Admiral." "What are you going to do to Ziggy?" "Nothing too terrible, and it'll make things go back to normal." She set the drink in front of Al, smiling gently. "See, Sam made one fatal error." "He made more than one." Al's face was grave, playing with but not drinking his scotch. "Jumping in that thing, for starters." "The universe isn't finite, Al." "That's part of Sam's theory--that it is." "And, despite your faith in him, he isn't all knowing. I've been around just a little longer than he has, or you, for that matter." "Right. You look like you're not over thirty five, forty..." "I'm offended. Looks can be decieving. I'm right about the universe. Sam's theory states that the universe was finite, and by programming that into Ziggy he choked up the works. You think his word is gospel, but think twice. He's as smart and as good as any man who's ever come down the pike. Only one thing wrong with that guy--he's always right, and when he isn't he tears himself up. That's your job; to put the pieces back together, once he's home." The tone of her voice, and the grave expression on her face forced Al to believe her words. "See, that's why the Leaps got out of hand. It was a form of protection, to keep Sam from flying off into the flow. If you hadn't had the interference, he'd be so far away now neither you nor I could do squat to retrieve him. He had really no idea what he was playing with, not yet. Your government pushed him and he had to rush past some very important elements. If he'd had the time, you know he'd seen the complications." "So," Al asked, frowning. "What did yoiu say I had to do?" "Keep him away from the Accelerator. He's not lost most of his other work, and the records of his Leaps are still there. Document everything, an then put it behind you both. You have to be the Caretaker, making sure he does the good he has to do, without interference." "I've had that job for five years now. What if I wear out? What if I get tired? I am human, after all, not a conglomoration of bits and bytes. So far, I think Ziggy is the only one that's ever been able to keep Sam Beckett in line." She grinned. "You might lose some patience with him from time to time, and maybe have some wing ding yelling matches, but, essentially, you'll always be together, taking care of each other." "What does he have to do? You said 'the good he has to do'. "I can't tell you that. He'll know, and I think we should return to Sickbay, but first, you need a change of clothes. Between me and the ship's computer I think we'll be more than happy to oblige." "Those stupid uniforms, like Sam's, I guess," Al groaned. "Not hardly." Her smile was enigmatic. "I think we can be a little more creative than that." more to come.... -- "Girls who have glasses have lots & lots of energy!" Al--Single Drop of Rain Terri Librande aa811@cleveland.Freenet.edu--Assistant Sysop The Science Fiction and Fantasy Sig--Go SCIFI