From: Sean Smith X-From: rkwong@engin.umich.edu (Roberta Chi-Woon Kwong) Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative Subject: "Quanta" part 1/17 Date: 17 Apr 1995 21:46:17 GMT This is being posted for Sean Smith , who is having some difficulty posting from his account. Please direct all comments to him. Apologies if any line noise remains in these posts. -------------------------------------------------- This story is dedicated to Kat Turner, Freda Whaley, and YouKneek@aol.com, not necessarily in that order. I should also thank my friends and roomies for putting up with me while I was writing. _Quanta_ is an X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover story. Theorizing that one can time travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Samuel Beckett stepped into the Quantum Leap Accelerator...and vanished. He awoke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own, and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on this journey is Al, an observer from his time, who appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. And so Dr. Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time, that his next leap will be the leap home. Fox Mulder is a believer, excelling enough in his work as an FBI agent building psychological profiles for him to use his position to investigate paranormal cases closed by the Bureau years before. He has made powerful enemies, and few friends. His partner, Dana Scully was assigned to _watch_ Mulder, and report on him. She was to keep a check on his imagination, for she does not believe. But somewhere along the way, she learned to trust him. And for the first time, he learned to trust somebody, too. Perhaps more than trust. THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE. 'Quanta' is the second installment of a trilogy. For X-Philes, this episode takes place the night after 'Irresistible',' when Dana Scully was kidnapped. For QLers, it takes place shortly after TThe Leap Back.U Please send all comments and criticisms to: ez042725@peseta.ucdavis.edu And let me know if the other two episodes should be written or not. Arigato gozaimasu! Based on characters and situations created by Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, Bellisarius Productions, Tom Clancy, and Fox. No copyright infringement is intended. All rights reserved. Quanta by Sean Smith Dr. Scully leaned back into her pale gray seat as the matte black laptop on her desk whirred away. Trying to write this report had taken far too long, and now her eyes and back were reminding her of the price they paid. Her attention, however, was focused inward. In the dead of night, she could still ignore her bruises, yet could not fight silently reliving her ordeal. Blinking she tried to brush aside the memories, and found she couldn't. And yet for all their apparent strength, they seemed disjointed, dislocated. They felt like the memories of a nightmare, hovering at the edge of thought in the dark of night. From the moment Pfaster had run her car off the road, that night had maintained an air of unreality. Even when she had grabbed her partner Fox, sobbing, it had seemed like the whole situation wasn't real, as though she herself was not the one breaking down in front of state troopers. Certainly the nightmarish hallucinations that had accompanied her attack were unreal, no matter how clear the demonic images had seemed. Dr. Scully thought. < I don't think I really want to see another psychologist about how I'm *adjusting*. And thank God I didn't say anything to Fox. Mulder...Thank God I didn't say anything to _Mulder_,> she chided herself mentally. Leaning back, Dana ran her hands over the cotton fabric of her slacks and surveyed her office. Despite the late hour, all her lights were on, reflecting off the neutral colors of the Bureau walls. It even managed to glint off the hulking black shapes of her file cabinets. Agent Scully thought. Stretching her arms over her head, Scully made a noise deep in her throat as she tried to let herself relax. Still reclining with her arms in the air, Scully ran her hand along the back of her upper arm over a bruise there. She deliberately pushed her kidnapping out of her mind, and tried to think of happier things. Certainly her family was the last thing she wanted to think about; she hadn't called her mother or Melissa yet. Instead she stared at the Manatees in the poster on her wall over her desk. She smiled, remembering that Mulder told how that manatees were responsible for the legends of mermaids. Suddenly, a frown crossed her features, and, as if in unconscious mimicry, she crossed her arms behind her head. she thought Before she could stop and figure out where in the world _that_ thought had come from, a soft voice interrupted her reverie. "Relaxing, Scully?," came the familiar voice from the door. Dana quickly lowered her arms and turned to face Mulder as he nudged the smooth metal door open a foot wider and stepped sideways in. "Not really, but I'm trying anyway," She said with a friendly smile, "I suppose you're still working." Mulder dropped the limp mass of his charcoal black overcoat on top of her file cabinet, nearly overturning a wilting spider fern. "No, I came by to see how you were doing, Scully." He remained standing, awkwardly fidgeting with his hands. "I'm fine Mulder. We've been through this before." She turned back to her work. "What's been keeping you here in the building all this time?" "Just reading this," he said as he pulled a dog-eared red paperback out of his briefcase and tossed it onto her desk. It slid a few inches across the faux wood veneer, coming to rest against her computer. She tapped a manicured nail on the desktop as she read the title off its dilapidated cover. "_The Hunt for Red October_?" she looked up smiling, "It's nice to see you reading something other than one of those files in the basement." "Actually, this _is_ related to a couple of X-Files I'd like us to look at. And case histories aren't all I read." "Let me guess, you also buy the magazines just for the articles." Mulder laughed silently. He was glad she felt up to her usual banter. Scully continued, "You aren't serious about this novel, though, are you?" She paused a moment, "Please, Mulder, don't tell me you think there's a Soviet SSBN hidden in a dockyard somewhere? This is _obviously_ fiction..." Mulder paused a moment, baiting her. As her eyebrows started to rise, he replied, "No I'm not looking for the _Kranzny Oktobyr_. It sounds like you've already read the novel," He turned the other chair in her office around and straddled it, somehow managing not to further wrinkle his soft umber suit, "but somehow I didn't think it would be your taste." "You never know what my tastes are, Mulder," Straight face, but just enough life in the eyes to make it a joke. She noticed him drop his hazel eyes momentarily before he replied, "Well, maybe California might fit y our tastes." Small pause, "You can't believe we're going anywhere _tonight_? After all this, I don't really think I'm up to tearing off after anybody. And you don't look like you've slept much either." "Par for the course. I want to catch an early flight to Sacramento tomorrow. It's got a layover in Edmonton, party capitol of Canada. And we'll still have plenty of time to sleep and pack." "What is this here, a vacation? You _do_ still work in Behavioral Sciences, right?" His smile mirroring hers, Mulder leaned forward, "Can you blame me if I do my job too well? There's just a serious shortage of mundane psychopaths late...ly..." Mulder trailed off as both stopped smiling. "I didn't mean that-" "I'm fine, Mulder. It just wasn't a funny joke," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She turned halfway and pushed a stray lock of red hair into place automatically. "So Mulder, what do they have in Sacramento?" "Oh the usual; a second rate b-ball team, a lot of flood damage, and a lot of tomatoes. We've received a request about the tomatoes." "Tomatoes? We're flying cross-country because of tomatoes?" "Yup. Sacramento's got the best tomatoes in the nation, and we're going in to check them out. Sounds juicy, doesn't it?" "Mulder, please tell me this is some obscure sexual innuendo. I don't need to be known in the forensic path labs as Miss Spooky Tomato." Her voice rose just enough to suggest that this might be an actual concern. "Don't worry...it's not that bad. You remember those genetically altered tomatoes that hit the market last year? "Of course." "Well, University of California, Davis is one of the few Federally funded sites of agricultural research. Seems they've been looking for ways to protect wheat from rust strains, and breeding drought resistant corn. And doing the occasional bit of work on tomatoes." "Mulder, none of that is an X-file. The controlled breeding of beneficial plants and animals has been going on since the dawn of civilization. Genetic tailoring simply extends the premise one step. All their work done in those labs is reviewed, and their papers published publicly. Not to mention the fact that their work is entirely necessary to your lifestyle. Without it, our wheat belt would have been decimated years ago.." "Slow down...I couldn't agree with you more Scully. But a Professor there, by the name of Davies Holland has been working on fruits, using similar techniques to the ones used by Genentech on their tomatoes. According to him, his recombinant tomatoes seem to be unaffected by most pests, but until he publishes, he's keeping his techniques under wraps." "That's not surprising; the competition in the field of research can be cutthroat." "Nothing quite that dramatic. Holland's been working out of a small lab north of the town, and the flooding wiped out his greenhouse, and a couple years of plant breeding. He wants his grants increased so he can repair the damage. The Department of Agriculture wants to know if it was sabotage, and since his work is on Federal grounds, we get jurisdiction." "Sounds like an accident, or a petty crime at best. Why not leave this to the local police force?" Mulder stood up with an easy smile and picked up his jacket, "Because it's a good excuse to see downtown Sacramento, Scully. The flight's Northwestern 1121, and it leaves at eight-fifteen." Fox tossed his trench coat over his arm and headed out the door. Dana had just turned back to put her desk in order when Fox stuck his head in, saying, "And Scully, I wouldn't mind you as Miss Tomato." * * * A harried young flight attendant in a polyester uniform brushed past Fox's sleeping form as Dana finished reading the rather sketchy information the Sacramento Police Department had provided in their folder about Dr. Holland's complaint. In reality, there was next to nothing there. Certainly there was no reason for them to be flying in, leaving the Bureau with uncompleted paperwork. But here they were on a plane headed out there, and Dana couldn't figure out why. As she mulled this thought over, her right hand crept up to remove her gold-rimmed glasses while her left closed the manila file. Seeming to stare through the rough cloth of the airline seat ahead of her, she narrowed her eyes and tapped her glasses against her full lips briefly. Her train of thought was interrupted by a yawn. It occurred to her that her hands had hit her lap, and her head had dropped back against the headrest. She sat forward, and stretched as much as she could in the tight confines of her seat. She'd already slipped her patent leather pumps off, and could at least curl her toes inside her hose. She leaned forward, stretching her back. Her lithe form had taken too much abuse in the past day, and she was still too stiff to be comfortable. A smile flitted over her lips. She settled back into the reddish-orange upholstery of her airline seat, and turned to look at Agent Mulder. The cabin tilted slightly to port as Dana's ears popped. Fox remained half turned in his seat, facing away from the aisle, with his head back against the chair. The book _Psychosensory Processes_ lay open on his lap below his half closed hands. Daylight streamed through the half-shaded porthole, highlighting the folds in his somber suit, and picking out the colors in his paisley tie. It even tipped his short hair with gold, and softened the lines of his face. With his eyes closed and the tension drained from him, he looked much younger, much happier. For a moment she thought about waking him to talk about the report, and why they were really on this flight to California. Maybe just _talking_ with him for a change. She was about to turn away and take out the copy of _Exit to Eden_ she'd bought in the airport shop when the scratchy voice of the pilot interrupted. "We are at twenty-thousand feet, and are descending into Edmonton's International Airport. We'll reach the terminal on time and..." the pilot droned on, seeming bored himself. But it was enough for Fox Mulder to awaken and find Dana Scully watching him. He raised his head and peered at the silhouette next to him. Backlit by the early morning sun, she was surrounded by a corriolis of red and gold hair. He could barely see the faint smile cross her face, but his eye caught upon the single glimmer from her plain golden cross hanging just above the folds of her silk blouse. He looked up and met her eyes slowly. There was a long moment of silence that somehow was not uncomfortable. "Am I that fascinating, Scully, or is the flight that boring?" he asked without moving. "The flight's that boring. But you woke up just in time; we'll be landing soon." Then Fox sat up and pretended to blink sleep out of his eyes. He glanced at his partner, and decided to reign in his thoughts. "I tell you what, Scully, you make sure our connecting flight isn't leaving for a while, and I'll get a taxi to show us Edmonton's mall." He straightened his suit, and waited to be back on solid ground. * * *