From: bewalton17@aol.com (BEWalton17) Newsgroups: alt.tv.quantum-leap.creative Subject: QL: The Enemy (Prologue) Date: 2 Dec 1998 04:27:56 GMT Message-ID: <19981201232756.27332.00000919@ng-fc2.aol.com> (Sorry if this absurdly long story is going out twice to anyone. It doesn't seem to have gotten far the first time I tried.) The Enemy A novel by Barbara E. Walton based on the Universal show Quantum Leap created by Donald P. Bellisario PROLOGUE: VISITOR It happens fast. There is a flash of blinding white light, and the distinct sensation of being struck. He thinks maybe he has been hit by a car. Then there is a horrible moment of discorporation, floating, almost disembodied, in an endless chasm between time and space. Then he arrives. The room he finds himself in is as blank as he can imagine. It looks like nothing more than a Hollywood bluescreen, the kind that will be replaced with real scenery later, with a few pieces of furniture set in front of it. There is a door across from him. He can't remember who he is. His name is gone, his birthday, his family. The only thing he does remember is the woman. She was beside him before, and she isn't any longer. He remembers her blue eyes, but not her name. He remembers that he is worried about her, but not why. He remembers that he loves her more than life. He hears a low, grumbling voice outside the door, and his heart begins to race. He knows the voice. The door opens. *** Project Quantum Leap at Stallion's Gate, New Mexico. 2000 C.E. "Our new Visitor is here," Ziggy whispered into the darkened room. Al Calavicci sighed and rolled out of bed. He heard Tina sit up in the dark. "Do you want me to come with you, honey?" she mumbled. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "No, that's okay. You get some sleep." "You sure?" He tucked a thick rope of red hair behind her ear. "I'm sure." "Uh-huh." She fell back into the pillows, already asleep again. Al smiled in the darkness; it had been a long and interesting night. He pulled on the clothes he had worn yesterday, which were laid carefully over Tina's chair. Whatever this thing with Tina was, it felt good most of the time. She was like him, which he knew was a strange thing to think, since she was less than half his age, had grown up in an entirely different world, and still tended to talk like a mall rat from the mid-eighties. He loved her, which was also a strange thing to think, since he hadn't even considered the possibility of such a thing until Ruthie Westheimer had tricked it out of his mouth, but it felt good to let himself feel it again. Learning to say it to her had been hard, but it had opened up whole new vistas... and made her more energetic. He bent over and kissed the back of her neck. Blow it off. Let whoever it is think he's been kidnapped by aliens and leave him alone. But he wouldn't do that, tempting as it was to stay here with Tina. The Visitor in the Waiting Room would be disoriented and scared (if, of course, s/he hadn't immediately gone into shock), and a human face helped to dilute that, just a little bit. Besides, maybe it would be Sam. "Admiral?" "Yeah, I'm coming." "Shall I summon Dr. Eleyse?" "No, don't bother Donna. I can handle it." He picked up the handlink, a small terminal connected to the hybrid computer Ziggy, stepped quietly out into the corridor, and started for the control center of Project Quantum Leap. Verbeena Beeks usually took care of first contact with the Visitors, but she had been worn out and ill, and Al had ordered her to go on vacation before she burned out. "Look who's talking," she'd said, but had not challenged his suggestion. She'd caught a flight to Calgary a few hours later, and by now she was in a cabin somewhere in the Canadian Rockies. For a minute, Al hated her for it. He shook off the feeling and turned his attention to the handlink, which was, as usual, showing a malfunction light. He'd never understood why the things (he was on his third) were so prone to gremlins, but they'd managed to cough up some truly creative ones over the last five years. He hit it on the side, which for some reason usually got it back in order, and was rewarded with an indignant squawk and a stream of characters racing across the viewscreen too quickly for any human eye to catch. "Great." He turned the handlink over and pried the back cover off of it as the Waiting Room door slid open. He was trying to tighten a tiny screw with his fingernail when a man's voice cut across the room. "Calavicci?" Al looked up. The voice belonged to Sam Beckett, the quantum physicist who had designed Project Quantum Leap, as did the image of the man sitting at the far end of the room. But the person behind the voice and inside the image was not Sam Beckett. That person was always -- well, almost always -- a stranger. But not this time. The face that had once been Sam's was showing a vague dismay, the tone of voice had been distrustful... and familiar. The Visitor spoke again. "Jesus, you look like hell." He had heard that tone before, seen that expression. But where? Al stared at the Visitor, almost hypnotised, for what seemed an eternity of groping for the memory. When it came, everything else came with it. Al breathed in sharply. His mouth was dry; he needed a drink. He let out the breath in a shaky sigh. "Oh, boy." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Barbara