From: aa811@cleveland.freenet.edu (Terri M. Librande)
Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative
Subject: That Terrible Price Part 7 finally!
Date: 5 Jun 1993 22:29:02 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio (USA)
Lines: 112
Message-Id: <1ur6ne$6i2@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu>
Nntp-Posting-Host: slc5.ins.cwru.edu


The expression on Al's face, the way he'd behaved since coming into
this room, that was beginning to make sense, too.  "I died, and you 
saw the whole thing, didn't you?"

He just nodded his head, eyes on the link.  "We've been searching for 
you, two days, I guess."  I could tell it had been the longest 48 hours
the man had gone through in his life, but he hadn't given up on me.  I 
owed him so much it would take a lifetime to repay that love and loyalty.

"You didn't stop, did you, Al? I'm grateful, let me tell you.  I'm scared,
too."

"Of what?"  Brusquely, he squared his shoulders, pushing back the emotional
for a moment.  "I'm here."

"And that makes all the difference in the world, but what about this
child?  He's making me crazy, like I'm split into parts, and I can't control
him.  What happened and why didn't he leap to the Waiting Room?"

"That damned implant, Sam."  From the look on my face he must've known I 
didn't have the slightest idea what he was talking about.  "That's how we
stay in touch, with this thing you had implanted under your skin."  A frown
formed between his eyes.  "Anyway, the thing shorted when you leaped out of
Marty.  Must've been the energy it took to get you out of the host after
he...died."  He wasn't going to forget that for a while, if ever.  His
eyes darkened every time he brought it up.   "The docs replaced it, and here
I am.  Finally, and none too soon.  I'll check with Ziggy about why the
kid...Walt?"


"Yes, Walt Jordan."  There was the faintest hint of hysteria in my tone that
Al was quick to pick up on.

"Sam."  He sighed, tucking his hands in his blue silk slacks. He looked
exasperated, at the very end of his rope.  "We'll get you out of this,
somehow.  Hell, Ziggy brought you back from the dead.  Can't ask for anything
more spectacular than....that."  His voice broke a little on the last, and 
I thought I could see his face crease in pain again.

"I'm sorry, Al."  There was little I could remember about the events of the
last leap, but I knew, deep in my soul, that being shot had been my fault, that
I should have seen it coming somehow.  "You ... you were with me, weren't
you?"

"When I arrived, yes."  He sounded bitter.  "Missed out on the other parts,
but not that. I saw you die, kid, and I don't want that to happen again.
I gotta go, Sam.  They need confirmation that you're alive, and that 
situation with the boy.  Gotta get him out of this mess, too. I'll dig 
up the background as best as I can."  The I.C. door opened behind him as 
he stepped through it.  "Good to have you back, Sam," he said roughly,
as the door closed behind him.

AL:

Cheers and handshakes all around; Sam was very much alive.  I didn't 
feel much like joining in, and once the crew got wind of our time traveler's
dilemna, things sobered out.

I have to hand it to Gushie and Zig; they managed to pull Walt's future
in record time.  If they'd had a problem I think I would've jumped out of
my skin.  Verbena spent a lot of time watching me like a hawk until I 
rather rudely informed her that either she find something else to do 
than mother hen me, or leave.  I wasn't in the mood for psychoanalysis, or
concern.  My first and only objective was to get the information and return
to Sam.  He was was one agitated mass of nerves, from what I could see,
and I wasn't going to let him down again.

When I returned to '92, Sam was sitting at the breakfast table, picking
at a bowl of corn flakes.  He looked none too happy, and his 'mother'
was hovering over him with the same concern Verbena had shown towards me.
When he finally looked up, I saw the total devastation in his eyes, and
every line on his face told me he hadn't got much sleep after I'd left.

"Walt, you haven't eaten a thing."  The mother's tone was familiar to every
child who didn't like mushy breakfast food.

"I'm not really hungry...Mommy."  His voice came up on the last word, making
me realize tht he kid was in control, or at least taking a stand.  She sighed
in resignation and left the room, giving me my opening.

"Hiya, Sam," I said, trying to be as carefree as possible, under the
circumstances.


"What's Ziggy say?"

"The kid saw the murder all right, and Ziggy says it doens't come out for
years. In the original history, Walt keeps things to himself, and ends up
having emotional problems, eventually making him drop out of high school.
A real shame; the kid is bright as a whip, if his achievement test scores
are any indication.  Third grade, straight 'a's, ahead of al the kids in
his age group."

"I know he's smart, Al."  Sam rubbed his forehead.  He looked as if he
had an army marching in there.  "And pretty outspoken, as well.  I'm 
having more and more trouble controlling what he does and says."

"Keep it in control.  Turns out that cop, Jones?"  Sam nodded.  "Hes
the one to talk to."

"If I can get Walt to cooperate...and he doesn't seem to want to talk 
about what he saw."


More to come!!!!

Terri in Cleveland
-- 
"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